As Amy processed what Cathal had told her, the air on the mountaintop suddenly turned cold. It was the first time in that strange place that she had encountered a chill breeze; even at night there was always a moderate quality to the climate. Yet there was something very familiar about the sudden drop in temperature, and that familiarity was not in the least bit alarming. She blinked as she came out of her own thoughts. As her eyes opened, Branna, Cathal's daughter, was standing next to them.

"Are you two having fun?" asked Branna, cheerfully.

Amy and Cathal exchanged quizzical glances. Branna was a solid soul, but she was not easily overtaken by mirth.

"Sure," said Amy, awkwardly. "Just getting the whole, end of the world tour. Your dad knows how to show a girl a good time, no doubt."

Branna rolled her eyes, and the fleeting levity was gone.

"Tell me about it," said Branna. "You are new to the end of the world club. I've been listening to it for an eternity. Did he tell you why he doesn't want me to go back to the kingdoms in search of answers? One or two fleeting visits, and we were done. Did he tell you why? No? Me either. He is very helpful like that. No clues at all?"

"Hmm, not exactly. Though I'm guessing it has a lot to do with your total lack of self-control once you have a sword in your hands. And that you have no powers down there, except for the, kickass, sword skills?"

"Is that what he told you?" asked Branna, as she turned to face her father. "That's not exactly the full story, is it, old man?"

Cathal raised his hands.

"I didn't say any of that," he explained. "I said that the folks down there could not use their powers. And as my daughter knows only too well, that is the truth. They were created all-powerful, but they are not all-powerful any longer, and their children are cursed with the same restrictions. They are as helpless as any mortal man, but even mortal men can swing a sword to deadly effect. Branna is not one of their children. She is the daughter of a very powerful witch, and a very handsome vampire. Despite what you have seen in the movies, or read in fiction, vampires are not true children of their sires. They have the pure, divine part of their souls drained from them when they are bitten, leaving only the corrupt part behind. They are slaves to evil, not children of evil. And my little bloodsucker has never lost the pure part of her soul. Her mother saw to that. The dark part of her soul did not rise and take control of her. The same goes for me. I was fortunate enough to marry the right woman. In short, the rules don't apply to us."

"You can use your powers?" quizzed Amy, excitedly. "Magic and all?"

"As far as I can tell. My father has never let me fully use my abilities when we have visited the kingdoms. If they knew what I was and what I could do, they would see me as a threat."

"Well, it looks like we are about to find out if that's true," said Amy. "You'll know what to do."

Amy was looking beyond Branna and Cathal, into the valley below. From a large, dense forest next to one of the great cities, an army poured forth and quickly stood in disciplined ranks in front of the city walls. Before Cathal had a chance to protest, all three vanished. The reappeared on an isolated side street inside the city.

"This is not a good idea," said Cathal, mildly distressed.

"The best ones never are," said Amy. "We are here and playing the what-if game is no substitute for the real thing. Relax, and enjoy yourself. If the worst should happen, Branna can magic us the hell outta here."

"If the worst happens, Branna will not be a live to magic us anywhere," Cathal protested.

Amy and Branna headed off in the direction of the main thoroughfare. Cathal reluctantly followed them after a moment of panicked contemplation.

"Wait!" Cathal called after them.

They continued to walk towards the main street. The wide cobbled road was lined with market stalls and it was hiving with eager customers and traders who were yet to be alerted to the approaching army on the other side of the city walls. Although from a time that was completely alien to Amy, there was definitely something very familiar about the scene. It could have been any modern city, only without cars, air pollution and zombies on their mobile phones—the lack of deodorant and frequent piles of horse waste did leave her longing after the petrochemical mist of her native New York City.

"Wait! Damn it!" called Cathal. "There's something that you need to know."

Branna and Amy came to a halt. They turned to face Cathal with impatience etched across their faces. As Cathal joined them his expression suddenly changed from that of deep concern to one of resignation.

"What?" demanded Amy.

"I was going to say, I got into a wee spot of bother the last time I was in this city. It would be a good idea to keep a low profile. But.."

"But?" Branna insisted.

Cathal raised his hands in an act of surrender. He pointed to somewhere behind them. As Amy and Branna turned around they were met by four solders with their swords drawn.

"And daughter, whatever you are planning to do, don't. It will make matters worse."

Branna looked frustrated, but she knew when it was safe to ignore her father's words, and when it was not safe to ignore his words. She raised her hands and Amy mirrored her actions. Branna knew that if she used her powers in front of the soldiers then their visit to the city would be at an end—they would be wanted fugitives and nowhere would be safe for them.

It was a long walk to the Areene, the main castle that served as home to the king, his administration, his royal courthouse, and his jail. They were placed in separate cells of identical appearance. There were no windows in the cells, but enough light seeped through the bars of the cell doors to illuminate the straw covered, stone floor, a small stool, and a bucket. It was the perfect level of comfort for wrong doers to think hard on their sins. The soldiers moved to the outer part of the jail, closing and securing the heavy metal outer door with thick bolts as they went.

"Can I act now?" Branna asked, impatiently. "They didn't even take my sword!"

"If we vanish from these cells, they will know what you are and what you can do," Cathal explained. "If you start swinging your sword and accidentally kill someone important, you could have all of the kingdoms after us. Best leave it for now, sweetheart."

"And? I know all that. My point being, what are we going to do? We can't stay in this prison forever." Branna said, exasperated.

"A powerful witch in a land without power?" said Cathal. "You are a weapon of mass destruction in this place. If they ever learn what you truly are then they will either kill you, or they will force you to work for them against the other kingdoms. Leave this to me. I have talked my way out of worse situations. It is one of the wonders of dealing with beings of supreme intellect—they assume the rest of us are thick, and that we would never dare try to pull the wool over their eyes."

Branna rolled her eyes.

"And just supposing you're wrong about that?" Amy asked.

"Then..." Cathal struggled. "How did you put it? Branna can magic us the hell outta here."

"And what's the signal?" asked Amy.

"Signal?" quizzed Cathal.

"You know? For Branna to do her thing? What's the signal?" pressed Amy.

"She will know when the moment arrives," said Cathal.

"Good to know," said Amy, unconvinced.

They remained in the cells for almost an hour before the soldiers returned. At the sound of the bolts on the door being draw back all three got up from where they had been seated on the floor and they nervously awaited their fate.

"The king wants to see you," said a soldier, as he opened the door to the cell.

"It's about time," said Cathal. "You lads have made the most horrendous mistake. I look forward to straightening this out with the boss."

In less than five minutes they were standing in an enormous chamber in front of an empty golden throne which sat on top of a raised platform made from blue stone. There was a vaulted stone ceiling above their heads, with various balconies jutting out high up on the walls. Statues of animals, humans, and beings in between, were arranged haphazardly about the floor, with others taking on a dramatic aspect on small ledges in the walls. From a large doorway behind the throne the king entered the chamber dressed in light, tight-fitting chainmail. King Ares ignored the group completely as he moved swiftly up the steps in the stone platform to sit on the throne. With deliberate menace he settled his gaze upon them.

"I will keep this brief," said Ares. "I have a small battle to fight outside the city walls, and you people are taking me away from that very important matter. The sentence for theft in my kingdom is death. Those found in the company of a thief are guilty by association. The sentence is also death. I would normally ask if you had any last words, but to be brutally honest, I really don't care."

Cathal took a few steps forwards. The soldiers grasped the hilts of their swords, ready to draw on him. Cathal looked at the soldiers with mild alarm.

"Easy lads, I mean no harm. I just want to have a quick word with his highness before you relive me of my head. It will take but a moment. I promise."

The soldiers remained unmoved by his words. The king stood up. The soldiers drew their swords and they prepared to strike. The king began to walk away. When Branna vanished, the king stopped. She reappeared and plunged her sword into the back of the soldier that was standing behind her father. She vanished again as the dead soldier fell to the ground. The soldier standing next to Amy turned around and he frantically swung at empty space. It was the wrong empty space. Branna reappeared in the air above his head. The soldier's head popped free from his body as Branna landed, then vanished again. The other soldiers took her blade through their stomachs in quick succession. Cathal shook his head as he surveyed the carnage.

"Can I act now?" Branna asked, as she turned to her father.

Cathal smiled.

"Aye, daughter, you can certainly act. You shouldn't have, but here we are."

He turned to face the stunned king.

"As I was saying, highness. I just want a quick word."

Ares smiled. In that moment he knew who she was and what it meant for him—she was there to kill him, or she was there to help him—either way, he was powerless to stop her.

"And as I said, I have a battle to oversee. You are more than welcome to join me on the city walls? Perhaps your daughter could do the honours?"

Cathal turned to face Branna. She looked concerned. Cathal shrugged his shoulders and he smiled uneasily. In an instant they were standing on top of the wide walls of the city fortress.

"I miss that," said Ares. "Think of a place and be there. Even if you have never been to that place before. You certainly are an impressive young lady. Very impressive, indeed."

He turned to Amy.

"And you?" he asked.

"Me?" Amy asked, with confusion.

"What is your power? Why are you here?" Ares probed.

"I have no power. And, I have no idea why I'm here. It's a long story, and to be honest, it doesn't make a lot of sense."

"Interesting," said Ares. "Though stories without sense are often the most exciting."

The king turned and looked down at the ranks of opposing soldiers below them. He turned his attention back to Branna.

"If you do to that army what you just did to my men, I will set you free," offered the king.

Branna recoiled.

"I could do to you what I did to your men, and then walk out of here," she said. "I know what you and your men are, and I couldn't care less if you live or die. But, and it is a heavily conditional but, if I did help you, what is in it for me?"

Ares smiled.

"You would have the gratitude of a god," said Ares.

"A god without power," said Branna. "Not much of an incentive. How about, some answers?"

"Agreed," replied Ares. "Answers to what?"

"Whatever I care to ask," said Branna.

"You have my word, young witch," said Ares.

"I do not kill anyone unless I know who they are any why they must die. I am old fashioned when it comes to murder."

"Good for you," said Ares. "That army wants to enter this city and kill every man, woman and child within its walls. Why? Power. Not riches, or land, or my crown. They want the power found within every living being in this place."

"Why?" asked Amy.

"The power that they take will be offered to their king. And one day that king will take part in the final battle between good and evil."

"What?" asked Branna.

Ares smiled again.

"You did ask. I have answered. For now, why don't we watch? If you feel like lending a hand, feel free. More answers will follow if you do."

They paused for a moment before moving to a position next to Ares.

The opposing army was standing perfectly still in disciplined rows. The front formations, those closest to the city walls, looked like normal men. The two rows of soldiers at the rear were comprised of men who were half as tall again as the soldiers in front of them. The tall men were archers. They were poised to fire. The command was issued, and the arrows were instantly loosed. The darts arced through the air and struck the front rows of their own soldiers as they came back down. As the soldiers fell, Amy saw orbs of intense white light leave the bodies of the slain men. The orbs raced back over the heads of the lines of fighting men and they entered the bodies of the archers. They bowmen seemed to grow as the orbs made contact with them.

"What was that?" asked Amy.

"Poor marksmanship," quipped Ares.

"No, the light things?" Amy continued.

The others exchanged perplexed looks.

"Light things?" Ares asked.

Amy hesitated.

"I mean, I thought I saw something. You know, lights? The sun, or something."

"I see," said Ares. "Your power is confusion. Not quite as useful as that of the witch."

As they turned their attention back to the battle, they were utterly confused by what they witnessed. The opposing army turned and marched off back into the forest.

"What in the name of sanity is up with that?" asked Cathal.

"I have no idea," Ares confessed. "My brother is always working some deranged angle. If only I knew a witch who could pay him a visit and ask him what is going on."

Branna sighed.

"I will make up my own mind," she said. "We will visit all of the kingdoms. If I feel it is the right thing to do, I will return, and I will help you. That is as much as I am willing to promise."

"And if you feel otherwise?" Ares asked. "If you learn something that sours your opinion of me?"

Branna smiled.

"You have seen what I can do. I don't think that I need to add anything."

"As you say, young witch. But if I might be so bold, may I leave you with a thinly veiled threat of my own? You are all-powerful in this place, but you will not always be in this place. Betray me and we will meet again. When we do meet again, in some other place, I will hold all the power."

"You are right about one thing, my lord king," began Branna. "That is a very thinly veiled theat. And as threats go, it is also pretty empty."

Theyvanished, leaving Ares to agonise over the wisdom of his threat. In the instantthat they left the city and moved on to the next, Amy saw a dark shimmer surroundAres. A wave of nausea rushed through her body. The sickly feeling left her asquickly as it had arrived, but the feeling of dread that replaced it persistedfor a lot longer.