The trio hurtled through the air, seemingly using the stars as a path, with Cyril galloping forward faster and faster. Celesta consulted her candles within the cage and tapped Joxer on the shoulder. "There's a duel in Alpes, a significant assassination in Dacia, and a war in Sparta that Ares is working on. Which would you like to see first?"

"Can I see the duel please? I've never seen a duel before," he said with interest.

Cyril wheeled left and raced off again, then slowed up as they reached the mountains of Alpes, descending to a range that was somehow slightly different to all the other ranges that looked very similar. A few people that were pinpricks a few moments ago loomed into view as the centaur and his passengers landed a short way away from the protagonists.

"What's happening?" Joxer asked the Goddess, as they dismounted from Cyril.

"TWO MEN ARE FIGHTING FOR THE LEADERSHIP OF THE BIGGEST TRIBE IN THEIR TRIBE. AND THE WINNER ALSO GETS THE CHOICE OF THE TRIBE'S WOMEN," she added, with a small smile.

"Ah, cherchey la femme," Joxer nodded in understanding.

"HE IS THE LEADER OF THE TRIBE, AND HIS DAUGHTER," said Celesta, pointing out the six-foot muscle-bound bearded warrior armed with a six foot bearded axe and standing by a petite younger woman. A much smaller man appeared nearby, armed with only a spear and approached the tribe leader, a curt nod of recognition to both.

"Ah, so we've come to collect the spearman," Joxer said thoughtfully.

"NO. BRAXUS, THE TRIBE LEADER."

"Huh? But how? By the Gods, the other's a dwarf!" the apprentice said in bemusement. "and he only has a spear!"

"PROMOTION CAN BE VERY RAPID," Celesta remarked, as a stone boulder toppled from a ledge above, landing on Braxus, but missing his daughter who stepped back at the vital moment.

"A conspiracy then," Joxer said, rolling his eyes at the reunion between the woman and the man, her mourning of Braxus' death obviously not a long one.

Braxus' spirit rose from beneath the boulder, his mighty axe still gripped firmly between his hands, and glared at Joxer, Celesta and Cyril. "Where's that miserable runt who wanted to challenge me? And who are you?"

"He's over there with your daughter," Joxer answered him.

"What? And my second-in-command - what's he doing with my favourite axe?"

"THERE ARE SOME THINGS YOU NEED TO WORK OUT FOR YOURSELF, AND THIS IS ONE OF THEM, BELIEVE ME," the Goddess observed.

"Oh. I'm dead then," he said glumly, noticing his arms and legs protruding from beneath the boulder.

"YES. AND HE APPEARS TO HAVE CHOSEN HIS WOMAN ALREADY. AND A NEW DEPUTY LEADER."

"Loyalty was never his strong point," he shrugged. "Or hers. So what happens now?"

"THAT'S UP TO HADES," Celesta answered calmly, blowing the ashes of his life candle away, and Braxus' spirit slowly faded away to nothing.

"All done then?" Cyril said brusquely.

"YES."

She looked at the selection of candles in the cage, and picked one up, which was nearly out. "TIME TO GO - AN APPOINTMENT IN DACIA LOOMS."

She helped Joxer up onto Cyril's back again, and was quickly sat behind him again, her arms holding his waist tightly; though her grip was firm, it was as cold as ice and hard as stone, sending a shiver down his back. He reached gratefully for the hot package from under his arm again, and opened it noisily, the steam from the contents warming him through.

"AH. CHIPS AGAIN. ALTI'S SPECIALITY," Celesta remarked, upon the whiff of the contents hitting the air. "WITH LOTS OF SALT AND VINEGAR."

"Cool!" Joxer enthused, and began to tuck in with vigour. "Want some chips Celesta?"

"THANK YOU, NO," she answered firmly. "IF I ATE THE DAILY MEALS ALTI MADE, I'D BE THE GODDESS OF GIRTH, NOT DEATH."

"How about you Cyril? You up for a few chips?"

"Hah! Like I've got time to stop for a quick snack?" the centaur harrumphed, as he cantered northwards. "Time enough for that when we stop, Boy!"

"Fair enough," he replied, as he munched on the greasy chips. "so who's being assassinated?"

"A HIGH QUEEN."

"Wow - a High Queen! Should I bow to her?" he said in awe.

"YOU CAN," Death said drily "BUT IT IS LIKELY THAT PROTOCOL WILL NOT BE THE MOST PRESSING THING ON HER MIND AT THE TIME."

"We're here," Cyril announced, as he began the descent to a village below, a seething mass of yurts and horses, with one large tent in the centre.

"Looks like a grand gathering of the tribes," Joxer observed.

"AN AMAZON GRAND COUNCIL, TO BE EXACT."

"What are they here for?"

"Questions, questions!" Cyril growled. "you start knowing things and it affects the Business - best just watch the Mistress and learn the trade - that's all you need to know!"

"NOW, CYRIL," Celesta admonished him gently, "HE IS THE APPRENTICE. AS I KNOW ALL, SO MUST HE - THAT EACH MORTAL HAS ITS TIME AND MUST COME TO AN END. THERE IS NO APPEAL, NO HIGHER COURT, THERE'S JUST ME."

"As you say, Mistress," the centaur replied respectfully.

"IT'S TO DECIDE THE FATE OF THE AMAZONS - WHETHER TO EXPAND, MAINTAIN PEACE OR FADE AWAY."

The three halted but a few yards from the main tent and entered through a flap, to be faced a by a veritable horde of Amazons in various forms of dress, costume and masks. Celesta eyed the withering candle in question and nodded towards the table where the leaders sat.

"THAT'S HER. THERE'S BUT A LITLE TIME YET - HELP YOURSELVES TO THE BOAR ROAST."

"Is she a good High Queen?" Joxer asked carefully.

"AS FAR AS I KNOW, THOUGH I DARE SAY ONE HIGH QUEEN IS LIKE ANY OTHER - THEY MAIM, THEY KILL AND ARE SUITABLY HEROIC AND INSPIRING."

The figure Celesta indicated was a middle-aged woman; her brown hair had blond streaks, though the grey was trying to breakthrough. Her face wore a steely look of determination, yet her eyes still had a smile within, making Joxer wonder what kind of leader she was. "She looks okay to me - why would anyone want to kill her?"

"WOMAN ON HER LEFT, SPEAKING TO THE CROWD, FACE LIKE A RAT AND RED HAIR?"

"I see her."

"SAHA, GRAND VIZIER and HALF-SISTER TO THE HIGH QUEEN. NOT SOMEONE YOU WANT TO BE CLOSE TO. NOT MANY FRIENDS, BUT NO ENEMIES AT ALL. RIVALS TEND TO HAVE ACCIDENTS. THE AMAZONS HAVE A SAYING OF HER - ALWAYS SMILE AT THE ONE YOU'RE SHAFTING. GOT THE PICTURE?"

She pulled a candle, with a good hunk of wax still melting, from mid-air, and glanced at it. "AND ABOUT A SCORE OF YEARS LEFT IN HER YET."

"Grand Vizier, huh?" Joxer grimaced. "they're the ones who are complete and utter bastards, right? Sell their own grandmother for power and wealth?"

"GOT IT IN ONE. NOT A NICE WOMAN," she commented, as the assembled women warriors opened a gap before them towards the High Queen's table.

The manic roars and screams of approval made Joxer nervous, the irony of a man and a centaur in the midst of Amazons was not lost on him. Saha finished her rabble-rousing speech to the gathered masses, now suitably riled up, and bowed to her half-sister respectfully, with a crocodile-like smile "Majesty, they await your words of wisdom"

"IT'S TIME," Celesta announced, lifting a candle up, with the legend "Queen Sycorax the Rash" on the holder, from the cage.

Cyril lifted above the crowd as the Queen rose to face the horde baying for action and Joxer watched the Goddess breathlessly, as she lifted a totally black chakram from within her shroud. The blackness was its chief feature, drawing light and darkness to it and doing something unspeakable to them both before spitting them out again.

"A chakram?? I thought Xena had the only one of those!"" Joxer gasped in surprise.

"A COPY ARES MADE. MINE IS THE ORIGINAL."

"Why not just the candle and the expiring of life," he inquired.

"IT'S A WHATJEMECALLIT, UM, WHAT'S THE WORD? AH YES, ROYAL PEROGATIVE - ROYALTY GET THE BLACK CHAKRAM."

Joxer followed her eyeline focused towards a gap in the tent, and saw another centaur outside, lining up a blowpipe with a dart. The Queen was standing up now, about to respond to Saha's speech, and held up a placatory hand to her audience. Whatever oratory she was about to give the huddled masses, was about to be halted as the blowpipe fired its deadly missile towards the target.

He havered, as he watched the dart fly through the gap, then despite his wariness of the Amazons, jumped off Cyril's back towards Sycorax, shouting a warning. And found himself halted in mid-air, as time and sound slowed, giving him the effect of trying to run through treacle. His voice slowed too, from a panicked shriek to a deep slur, as he desperately tried to reach her in time; "Looooooooookkkkk ooouuuuuuuutttttttt beeehiiiiiiindd yooooouuuuuuuu!"

The dart finally achieved its destination, and Sycorax slumped forwards as time returned to normal speed. Joxer flopped in a heap on the ground below Sycorax's table, hearing the familiar hum of the black chakram before being trampled underfoot as the Amazons rushed forwards to their stricken leader.

"Hey! Gerrof me! Man down here! Do you -! Watch your feet! I bruise easily y'know!" he protested in vain.

When his head and body stopped feeling like Hannibal's elephants had been playing football with him, he slowly clambered to his feet, groggily looking for Celesta and Cyril. He pushed his way clear of the warriors, who shrugged it off not seeing anyone jostling them and saw them above Sycorax's corpse. The black chakram flew back to Celesta's waiting hand, nimbly secreting it within her shroud her shroud, as the newly dead Sycorax rose to her feet.

"A centaur! What are you doing here? Guards -!" she growled at the sight of Cyril, then saw Death and nodded. "So, Saha plotting again - it is true what they say about Grand Viziers."

She glanced down at her dead body face down, and saw the telltale dart jutting from her back. "Typical! I take precautions by always wearing a chainmail vest, and dart slips through one of the holes to poison me. What about my Great Niece, I don't suppose I could have a final word with herÉ?"

"NO." Celesta said firmly.

"Only she's going to succeed me and - "

"I'M AFRAID NOT."

"I didn't think so," Sycorax conceded. "What happens now?"

The goddess told her.

"Hmm. You never fully believe in the legends until it happens to you, do you?" the dead High Queen observed as her body slowly faded. "Hired assassin, was it?"

"IN A MANNER OF SPEAKING - A CENTAUR WHO HATES THE AMAZONS ALMOST AS MUCH AS SAHA HATES MEN AND CENTAURS."

"Ah, a fanatic," she said with understanding. "They both want a war. But Saha doesn't strike me as the type to let witnesses tell tales - why is she letting him escape?"

"SHE ISN'T," the goddess answered pointedly, lifting another candle from the cage, which was down to a mere stub of melting wax. "I HAVE ANOTHER APPOINTMENT THIS AFTERNOON - A HUNTING PARTY OF AMAZONS ARE STALKING A WHITE HARTÉ."

"Hah! You just can't trust anyone these days!" Sycorax snorted.

"So which is your successor? Saha?" Joxer asked her.

"Who's he?" The amazon said sniffily, her inbred contempt of the male species still alive and kicking, even if she wasn't.

"MY APPRENTICE, WHO NEEDS A FEW LESSONS ON THE FINER POINTS OF MY TRADE BEFORE THE DAY'S OUT, THE RASCAL."

"Ohhh," she said dismissively. "She's standing over me now."

Her successor was in full amazon regalia - feathers, mask and all - stood bent over the body; she removed her mask to show a grief-ridden face, searching the room for someone. She casually passed her eyes past Joxer as all her other sisters had, then did a double take as she saw him clear as day. Her reaction was muted as the friend she was looking for grasped her hand and hugged her tightly.

"Gabby!" Joxer gasped below his breath as he saw her then realised that she'd seen him too. "Oh Gods, this means trouble. She is so going to kill me"

"Why am I not sad for her?" Sycorax asked.

"GENERALLY, THE DECEASED FIND EMOTIONS AN UNNECESSARY CHORE AND TEND TO LEAVE THEM BEHIND."

"Ah. So this afterlife, what does one do?"

"HAVE FUN," Celesta answered as the last of Sycorax's life essence drained away and she vanished to wherever dead Amazons go.

The Goddess reached down and lifted Joxer onto Cyril's back again, the centaur turning his head and settling for a glare as a greeting. "So boy, what was that all about? You can't go messing about with cause and effect like that!"

"Joxer."

"What?"

"Joxer - my name is Joxer," the apprentice corrected him.

"Is it? Well, 'Joxer', there's a time and a place for interfering in the affairs of Death, but your job isn't it. Just watch and learn, and will be well," Cyril declared sternly.

"INDEED. NATURAL OF YOU TO TRY AND SAVE HER, BUT NOT PRACTICAL IF YOU'RE DEATH'S APPRENTICE," Celesta added, with a wry smile.

"So when are you going to send me home?" he asked ruefully, dreading yet another failure on his record of life.

"SEND YOU HOME? NO. I MIGHT HAVE IF YOU HAD ENJOYED IT. BUT AS CYRIL SAYS, YOU CANNOT MESS AROUND IN THE DEALINGS OF MORTALS. WE ARE HERE BUT TO COLLECT AND TO SEE THAT EVERYTHING ENDS AT ITS APPOINTED TIME."

She eyed his miserable expression warily. "MANY, MANY THINGS COULD HAPPEN IF A MORTAL WERE NOT TO DIE AT THEIR FIXED TIME. ONLY THE GODS CAN INTERFERE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes Celesta," he answered humbly.

"BUT YOU MUST ADOPT THE EMOTIONS NECESSARY FOR THIS JOB. ONE IS TOTAL DEDICATION "

"And the other?"

"THE KILLER INSTINCT."

Behind them, Saha was already moving in on Gabrielle, who was still in a daze on learning that she was Sycorax's heir to the throne. Her arm was drawn around the new High Queen's neck in a comforting gesture, while listing the numerous duties, but with a hint of a smile. It was the same smile that Bacchae had on learning of an open-air picnic for maidens only in a remote spot.

Amazons were swarming round Gabrielle as they left the tent, demanding action, until Saha growled at them to make themselves scarce - a warning from her that could be taken literally - and Gabrielle and Saha were alone again;

Saha's staff had deftly turned Xena into one yurt, whilst Saha escorted Gabrielle towards another, the swirl of amazons between them covering the separation. Joxer turned his head as Cyril leapt upwards, mouthing a warning to her, hoping against hope she could see him again. "Gabby! Don't trust her!"

"Don't lean back boy, you'll fall off," the centaur warned as they left the mortal coil behind them.

After a period of some days, though time never passed at all in Celesta's realm, Joxer became familiar with the routine of the Job. The visits were not restricted to day or night, or to the aristocracy either, most times it was for run-of-the-mill people, who generally seemed quite pleased to see him.

The exception seemed to be warriors and the youngsters - the warriors were annoyed because they had their bloodlust up and wanted to continue fighting, and the youngsters were seriously peeved at being deprived of a life they hadn't yet had any fun out of.

Meals at the House seemed to consist of chips and sausages, chips and beans, chips and pie, chips and curry or chips and chips. If there was an alternative to chips, Alti didn't seem to be aware of it and low fat cookery was not yet on the menu.

Other than the trips with Celesta, Joxer busied himself by reading the discarded books, as only the Goddess could call the books of the living with the 'voice'. The discarded books still scratched away in the reserve library - which also held the silent books of the as yet unborn, though most of the fresh words were confined to epilogues, prologues, family trees and chapter headings. His knowledge lacking an education, it seemed an ideal place to learn, though the words he used sometimes in conversation with the other residents turned out to have a different meaning from what he intended.

The house needed many hands to keep it, and a good chunk of the day was taken up with helping Alti out - cleaning, beekeeping, feeding the animals, washing up or peeling potatoes in the kitchen to mention but a few. His relations with Alti, Cyril and Miranda were restricted somewhat by their different attitudes to him;

To Cyril, he was an amateur dabbling in things beyond his understanding, Miranda thought he was something the cat dragged in, and Alti treated him as an amusing distraction from her feud with Miranda.

If there was a prize for being the most beautiful girl in the known world who had the inherent knack of getting up everyone's nose and being nicknamed "Atilla", Miranda would win by a furlong; Fortunately, no matter how mad she made people felt, she also had the skill of having a disarming smile and charm that could be turned on like a tap, that made everyone relax and think, "well, that's alright then."

To which end, he asked a question of Celesta, which took her by surprise. " YOU WANT WHAT?"

"A half day," Joxer repeated in a small voice.

"THAT'S UNHEARD OF! THIS ISN'T A JOB ON FLEXI - YOU CAN'T JUST TODDLE OFF WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE IT."

"I know but -"

"WHY? YOUR BROTHERS AND PARENTS ARE IN GOOD HEALTH, YOU DON'T HAVE ANY PETS SICK AND DEMETER WOULD HAVE TOLD ME IF ANY OF YOUR RELATIVES WERE IN THE FAMILY WAY"

Her fingers tapped on the desk, awaiting his answer with bemused curiosity. It was certainly a question she'd never been asked before and she was intrigued as to why he wanted go back to the Mortal world - assuredly, it hadn't offered him much up to now.

"Um, well, you see, it's Miranda, and, she hasn't been to see us Mortals other than with you, so I thought it might do her good and besides, I want to have a word with someone," he said hesitantly.

Celesta arched her eyebrows in surprise. Really, she hadn't expected the Mortal to be of any use, but he was a hard worker, and something was coming of all her hints to him along the lines of ONE DAY ALL THIS WOULD BE HERS. "HMM, A HALF DAY IT IS. BACK AT MIDNIGHT, AND NO SLACKING AFTERWARDS."

"Ignoble suggestion," Joxer said in horror at the idea of slacking.

"BETTER GO AND TELL MIRANDA THEN - WOULDN'T WANT YOU TO BE LATE FOR YOUR DAY OFF."

"Only, um, I haven't got anything to wear and I'd like to make an impression, you know?"

"YOU WANT SOMETHING TO WEAR." she echoed with a roll of her eyes. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH WHAT YOU'RE WEARING NOW?"

He gave his trousers and shirt a thorough pat in answer, and the goddess was covered in a cloud of dust, coughing loudly. "POINT TAKEN. SECOND CORRIDOR ALONG FROM YOURS, FOURTH ROOM ALONG. MY BROTHER'S OLD ROOM WHEN HE CAME TO VISIT LAST. HE SHOULD HAVE SOME CLOTHES THERE."

"Kewl!" he said in thanks and rushed upstairs to get changed.

He quickly found the room, which was split into two, the doors to each marked 'Tartarus' and 'Elysian Fields'. He opened 'Tartarus' and there seemed to be an interior colour scheme of black and red, each trying to pin the other to the wall and squashing them flat. He scanned the area for a wardrobe, his eyes trying to penetrate the gloom;

A few clothes hangers were on a lonely rail with a small selection of leather waistcoats and trousers upon them. He flicked through the choices, then chose one pair of each, which he hung over his left arm. The room having no choice of clothes, other than what he found, he left and entered 'Elysian fields'. This room was also decorated in colours and pastels, this time in cheery shades of gold and cream, with others waving from the background.

It too was sparsely decorated, with the sole inhabitants being a wardrobe and a chest of drawers; A search revealed a choice of white silk shirts within the wardrobe, and a wide range of undergarments in the chest of drawers, of which he embraced a handful and departed the forbidding room.

He returned to his room, filling a washbasin with water from a candle-shaped beaker, the cold liquid refreshing him thoroughly. He tried on the clothes he'd acquired from Hades' room, and giving himself an experimental twirl in front of the mirror.

"Well, aren't we the dandy," Miranda's mocking voice interrupted him mid-twirl. "All dressed up and nowhere to go?"

"At least I am going somewhere," he said pointedly. "And I got them from Hades' room - I think he's going for the Greek look."

"The Greek look?"

"Quite 'spartan'

"Very drole," she said humourlessly, leaning on the cupboard by the door and giving him a hard stare. "So what do you mean, you're going somewhere?

"Oh, I'm going out for a while - you fancy a trip?"

"Back to see Mortals die? Pffftt!" she said scornfully. "Besides, I've got my hair to brush a 100 times, and have another bath."

"Okay, well, I'll be thinking of you while I'm enjoying my half day back with Mortality and - "

"Who, back up there apprentice boy! You're going to the Mortal world and you didn't think of taking me?"

"Oh, didn't I mention it?" he said with a look of feigned innocence. "Celesta has allowed me a half-day, so I'm going to see Athens and have some fun. Shame you can't make it. Still, never mind, eh?"

"In your dreams, Mister! There's no way in Tartarus you're going to leave me behind," she growled, jabbing a finger in his chest to emphasise her point.

"No, no, I wouldn't dream of it - you've got your hair to brush a 100 times and a bath to take."

"Don't push it," she warned, her eyes flashing with passion.

"Easy on the third degree already, I'm taking you," he laughed, his hands held before her in submission. "I'm just going to have a word with Celesta first, while you get ready - don't take too long!"

He swept out of the room, leaving a surprised Miranda staring after him as he sauntered down the hallway. She shook herself free from her stupor, and exited stage right - not followed by a bear, since there weren't any in Celesta's realm - towards her room to make ready for the day out.

"WELL?" the Goddess asked sharply, on seeing Joxer enter her study. "YOU'RE STILL HERE - AND ON YOUR HALF-DAY TOO!" She produced a candle from nowhere and sliced a sliver of wax from the top, her eyes staring intently at her apprentice. "TIME WAITS FOR NO-ONE. NOT EVEN ME.

[A theatre in Creta was roundly applauded at this point, as an actor dramatically aged ten years without any sign of wigs or greasepaint, and calls of "Do it again! Do it again" and "Can you do children's parties?" were heard from the crowd]

"NO MORTAL IS AN ISLAND, ENTIRE OF HIMSELF, AND ASK NOT FOR WHOM THE CANDLE MELTS, IT MELTS FOR THEE!"

Joxer took a sideways glance at the diminished candle and gulped nervously. "Ah. You know, the getting to the Mortal world thing, how do I-we get there?"

"SNAP YOUR FINGERS."

"That's it? I just snap my fingers?" he queried doubtfully.

"YES. YOU WILL GO WHERE YOU WANT TO."

"PROBABLY," she added, after Joxer left her office.

"You ready yet Miranda? I'd quite like to get to Greece before the day's out!" Joxer hailed the closed door.

"Okay, okay, hold your chariots already!" she grumbled, poking her head round the door. "Five minutes, tops."

The door slammed shut again, making him flinch, as the rustling of clothes and jangling of clothes hangers mixed with much muttering was heard on the other side of the door. "There! Happy now?"

She emerged pouting, dressed in a fine gown of black with silver trim, and red clogs. She stared at him hard, daring him to criticise her choice of clothes.

"Delirious with joy," he said in a flat tone. "Shall we go?"

She followed him downstairs, with an undeniable grace and style - even her exits made an entrance - but her demeanour was upset somewhat by Alti passing by and casting a derisory look at Miranda's choice of garments. "Who died?"

"No-one - yet," she answered tersely, her hackles up and pointed at the housekeeper.

"You and who's army?"

"Why don't you take your staff and shove it up - "

"Well, we really have to be going," Joxer interrupted hastily, grabbing Miranda's hand and forcing her reluctantly through the front door.

"And don't come back after midnight - or else you'll turn into a pumpkin," Alti warned darkly, to Joxer's retreating back.

"Okay, boy, so how do we get to Corinth or wherever it is we're going?"

"Like this," he said confidently, snapping his fingers together, a single, lonely spark emerging, then thinking better of it and fading away again. "Erm, like this! No, like that!"

"Hellooo! Are you taking me anywhere or not?"

"Look, shouting at me won't get me to work this transportation lark any quicker," he pointed out. In answer, she looked ready to throw or hit something - probably him. "But that will!"

He hastily snapped his fingers together, drawing a small silver globe of light, and they both vanished to elsewhere.

The stonewalled library echoed to the lonely footsteps of Alti in her carpet slippers, trudging behind the hovering figure of Death. The only other sound was the drip-drip-drip of the wax melting; a sound akin to nails scarping down a slate and guaranteed to turn a brain into porridge.

"HMM. JUST THE THREE TONIGHT," the Goddess observed as she deposited the last of the candles in the cage.

"That'd be Sister Sousta, Mother Woundwort, and Princess Gabrielle, then."

"WHAT ABOUT THE MORTAL? IS HE UP TO A TRIP OUT ON HIS OWN YET?"

"Sister Sousta Ð" Alti began, looking over the three books of Life, and suppressing the urge to laugh at her name. "-is an old hand at this game, Mother W knows the score, and then Ð well, there's the Comeback kid."

"AH. HER AGAIN."

"Thing is, Mother W's a Mage - she might get funny if you don't turn up. Tradition and all that," Alti said thoughtfully.

Celesta wasn't listening properly, her fingers tapping the candle reflectively, her eyes darkening to pure jet with no light showing in her eyes at all. "A MORTAL THAT WILL NOT STAY DEAD IS AN UPSET TO THE BALANCE - BUT SHE HAS DIED, AND RULES ARE RULES."

"Mistress?"

"WHAT IS IT THAT MORTALS FEEL WHEN THINGS ARE OUT OF PLACE AND NOT HAPPENING AS THEY SHOULD?"

"Petulance, I think, Mistress, but - "

"I AM PETULANCE."

Alti coughed loudly and caught the Goddess' attention, emerging from her train of thought back to the conversation in hand and her eyes returning to brown again. "SORRY, WHAT?"

"The boy, Joxer," the housekeeper prompted.

"WHO?"

"Your apprentice. A bit on the clumsy side but a hard worker."

"AH YES, THE MORTAL. HE CAN GO OUT ON HIS OWN TONIGHT."

"On his own already?" Alti said hesitantly.

"WHY NOT? HE'LL HAVE CYRIL WITH HIM - WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?"

"BESIDES," she added as an afterthought. "THE SOONER HE LEARNS THE JOB, THE MORE OFTEN I CAN SEE MY BROTHER."

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