The hag froze. Bright eyes glinted from beneath the shawl.

'Book?' she said cautiously. 'I don't know about no book. I am healer. You want book, go to library.'

Artemis sighed with exaggerated patience. 'You are no healer.

You are a sprite, p'shуg, fairy, ka-dalun. Whichever language you prefer to use. And I want your Book.'

For a long moment the creature said nothing, then she threw back the shawl from her forehead. In the green glow of the night-vision goggles, her features leaped at Artemis like a Hallowe'en mask.

The fairy's nose was long and hooked under two slitted golden eyes.

Her ears were pointed, and the alcohol addiction had melted her skin like putty.

If you know about the Book, human,' she said slowly, fighting the numbing effects of the whiskey, 'then you know about the magic I have in my fist. I can kill you with a snap of my fingers!'

Artemis shrugged. 'I think not. Look at you. You are near dead.

The rice wine has dulled your senses. Reduced to healing warts.

Pathetic. I am here to save you, in return for the Book.'

'What could a human want with our Book?'

'That is no concern of yours. All you need to know are your options.'

The sprite's pointed ears quivered. Options?

'One, you refuse to give us the Book and we go home, leaving you to rot in this sewer.'

'Yes,' said the fairy. 'I choose this option.'

'Ah no. Don't be so eager. If we leave without the Book, you will be dead in a day.'

'A day! A day!'The healer laughed. 'I will outlive you by a century. Even fairies tethered to the human realm can survive the ages.'

'Not with half a pint of holy water inside them,' said Artemis, tapping the now empty whiskey bottle.

The fairy blanched, then screamed, a high keening horrible sound.

'Holy water! You have murdered me, human.'