The immortal sat up and fastidiously dusted himself off as the two women looked at him in astonishment. He was just standing up when there was a crash in the undergrowth behind them. The two women turned, weapons ready… as Palamedes and William Shakespeare strolled out of the long grass.

“When shall we three meet again!” Shakespeare said with a smile that exposed his bad teeth.

Joan squealed with delight and launched herself at Saint-Germain, wrapping her arms and legs around him, sending him staggering backward. Catching her in his arms, he swung her around and around. “I knew you would come for me,” Joan whispered in French.

“I said I would follow you to the ends of the earth,” he murmured in the same language, “and now you know I really mean it.” Returning Joan to the ground, he bowed to the Shadow. “You are unharmed and in good health, I see.”

“We are.” Scatty returned his bow. “I thought I’d lost the capacity for surprise a long time ago,” she said, “but I guess I was mistaken. And I really do hate surprises,” she added.

Saint-Germain turned to Palamedes and the Bard and raised his eyebrows in silent shock. The knight grinned, teeth white against his dark skin. “What, did you think we would let you have all the fun?”

“But how…?” Saint-Germain wondered.

Palamedes turned to Shakespeare. “Tell him.”

The Bard shrugged modestly. “I suggested to the Green Man that he send us after you.” Will smiled. He stopped and bowed to Scatty and Joan. “Ladies.”

“And Tammuz did it?” Saint-Germain sounded surprised.

“He raised a few minor objections,” Palamedes rumbled, “until Will threatened him with some horrible fungus disease.” The Saracen Knight bowed. “Ladies: it is good to see you both.”

“And you, Sir Knight,” Joan said.

“Been a long time, Pally,” Scathach added with a smile.

The knight made a pained face. “Please, don’t call me Pally. I hate that.”

“I know.”

The hooded man had remained seated on the rock, bright blue eyes watching each immortal in turn, absently running his index finger along the length of the hook that took the place of his left hand.

William Shakespeare stepped forward, took off his black-framed glasses and wiped them on his sleeve. “I believe, sir, that we are due an explanation.”

Although his mouth and nose were hidden by a scarf, the hooded man’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “And I believe I will tell you only what I think you need to know, and no more.”

Palamedes’ hand moved and the broadsword strapped to his back appeared in his grip. “An explanation, and then you send us back to our own time.”

The hooded man laughed. “Why, Sir Knight, you-none of you-can return home just yet.”

Palamedes raised his sword and took a step forward.