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Kell strolled around to the small woodshed, and glancing back to make sure he went unobserved, pulled a hidden flagon from under a pile of logs. He unstoppered the flagon, took a deep breath, and followed it with a long, gulping drink.

"No good will come of this," he muttered, but by then – as it always was – it was far too late…

Night fell. The fire burned low. Kell snored heavily on one side of the room, and Saark lay with his back to the fire, eyes closed, unable to sleep. Inside of him he felt something shift and it made him feel nauseous, like he was going to puke. Tick, tick, tick went his steady clockwork-enhanced heart. By all the gods, he thought, it feels too strange.

Saark heard Nienna shift, and kneel up beside the fire. Saark turned himself, and looked at her long hair glowing. She moved to him, and lay beside him, and he threw a glance to Kell but the man had drank more whiskey later that evening, and was now sleeping like a baby – albeit a very drunk one.

"We shouldn't," he said, as Nienna kissed him; but not like before, this time it was urgent, and this time she pressed herself into him, eagerly, filled with lust, filled with desire.

"We should." She had waited a long time to get hold of Saark. She wasn't going to let him go now.

They kissed, and she straddled him, and their passion grew and Saark felt himself in that place again, that uncontrollable place and, as he always did, he gave in to it, surrendered unconditionally and kissed Nienna, kissed her hard, with passion, his hands running up and down her flanks, caressing her breasts and she writhed atop him, moaning, and Saark was hard and pressing against her and something intruded on his thoughts and there was a click as he realised his error. Something was wrong. Shit. Kell was no longer snoring…

"Up you get, girl."

Kell lifted Nienna bodily from Saark, and placed her to one side. His eyes were glowing embers in the gloom of the cottage, his fists were clenched, his beard glinted with droplets of whiskey, and the firelight gave him the air of a demon.

Maybe he is, thought Saark.

"You too. Up you get."

"We've been here before," laughed Saark.

"No we haven't. This time I'm going to break your fucking spine, I reckon."

Saark looked up into those merciless eyes, and swallowed hard. Kell was not a man to back down.

"I implore you, Kell, there are greater things at stake here than Nienna's honour! Think of Falanor! Think of the Vampire Warlords! And let's be honest, look, the girl is fully clothed, all I did was maul her a bit. Squeeze her tits. Get her hot and ready. No harm is done, really, Kell, I beseech you!"

Kell loomed close. "The harm, fucker, is that you never stop. Ever. And unless I teach you a lesson, you'll come back time and time again. And I can't have that. Now get up, or I'll kick you into a pulp like the fucking dog you are."

Kell's boot swung, and Saark rolled fast, avoiding the blow. He leapt up, wearing only his trews, and lifted his fists slowly, as did the pugilists he'd watched in the Shit Pits.

"I've got to warn you, Kell. I'm vachine now. Stronger. Faster. Harder." His own eyes glowed by the light of the fire.

"Show me," said Kell.

"Stop it!" screamed Nienna, both hands at the sides of her head. "Stop it, both of you!"

They ignored her.

Kell charged, roaring like a bear and throwing a fast combination of five punches. Saark dodged, left, right, ducked, then leapt back and his back slammed the wall of the cottage. But Kell followed him, a right straight thundering a hair's breadth from Saark's chin and implanting a dent in the plaster of the wall. Saark skipped away, and Kell followed again, a whirr of punches coming faster than any drunk should be able; Saark ducked, shifted his weight, then slammed a right hook to Kell's jaw that rocked the big warrior.

Kell halted, and stared hard at Saark.

"Have you come to your senses?" snapped Saark.

"Ha, no, well done boy," he rubbed his jaw, "a fine punch. Let's see some more." He launched at Saark, arms grappling around Saark's own and pinning them to his sides. Together, they crashed through the cottage door reducing it to tinder, and landed in the snow with "oofs" of exploded air. Saark wriggled, the dead weight of Kell atop him, and a stunning blow caught the side of his head, blinding him for a moment, then another cracked his nose and that made Saark good and angry and he felt his fangs ease free and talons slide from fingers and with a scream he heaved Kell aside and leapt up, talons slashing for Kell's throat, but Kell took a step back, swaying, and lifted his fists. "Yes lad! Come on! Show me what this pretty dandy's made of!"

They circled in the snow, Nienna hanging at the doorway, panting. Both men were wary now, eyes shining. Snow fell thick around them, and the whole scene was surreal to Nienna, muffled, silent, as if she was seeing it in a dream, or from the bottom of a frozen lake…

" Stop, " she begged, wearily.

Again, they ignored her. Saark attacked, aiming punches for Kell who swayed, the punches missing him. Kell's boot lashed out, catching Saark in the stomach, but Saark turned the blow into a backward leap, and he flipped, somersaulting to land on his feet, fists raised.

"A pretty trick, boy-lover. You left a piss-trail of perfume droplets in your wake."

"Funny, because despite the perfume I can smell your stale whiskey and bad sweat from here."

Kell growled, and charged, and Saark leapt over him, flipping again to land in the snow.

"Damn you, stand still and be battered!"

"No, Kell, I don't want to fight you! Don't you understand? There are enough fucking enemies out there to last us a thousand lifetimes! And you want to play here in the snow like little kids?"

"Little kids, is it?" growled Kell, and charged again. Saark leapt high, but Kell was ready, jumping himself with a grunt and catching Saark's legs. He swung Saark like a slab of beef, and the dandy hit the snow hard, head slapping trampled ice, all air smashed from him. Kell put one knee on Saark's chest, and one great hand around his throat. With his free fist, he punched Saark with a crunch, and glared down with lips working soundlessly, anger his mistress.

Nienna ran inside the cottage, and curled her hands around Ilanna. The weapon was cool to the touch, and perfectly smooth, like ice. Nienna lifted the axe, the huge axe, with ease. It was surprisingly light.

I have missed you, came the words in her head, and Nienna jumped. She nearly let go of the weapon, but for Saark wriggling around under Kell and returning punches to the great man's head.

Saark grabbed Kell's balls and squeezed hard. Kell howled, rolling to one side, and Saark scrambled free across the snow, but Kell lunged, catching the vachine's ankle and dragging him back -

Claws hissed through the air.

Nienna blinked. Am I dreaming? she thought, mind in a swirl of severed lust, fear and now, wonder.

No. I am Ilanna. I am Kell's axe. Do you remember, back in the Stone Lion Woods? I saved your life, but at the time thought you were too young to shock with my… thoughts. Now, I see, you are a much harder woman. I congratulate you.

If only everybody thought so, dreamed Nienna. She took a step towards the door. Kell and Saark were exchanging punches once more. Saark's newly accelerated vachine status was proving a match even for Kell, and both wore bruised and battered faces like horror masks.

I've missed you, said Ilanna, voice soft and sweet.

What does that mean?

We worked together. In the past. It was a good union. One day soon, we will speak again.

Confused, Nienna stepped out into the snow. "Stop!" she screamed, and held the huge battleaxe above her head. Ilanna gleamed dull, matt black, an awesome sight to behold. "Stop this foolishness! I demand it!"