The room was lit by a flickering red light as a Veela danced and sang in the corner, the tune a haunting melody as she gyrated slowly. The floor was filled with dust and sand, and the grimy and worn upholstery of the seats matched the equally tattered patrons. Sullen men and woman nursed glasses of alcohol, most of them ignoring the Veela, who looked more exhausted than titillating at the moment. The air was filled with a haze of smoke from hasheesh and tobacco. The bartender was a rough looking djinn, who had a large sword strapped to his back that gleamed dully in the light.

In the corner, a man with a dark eyepatch hunched over his drink which he nursed while glaring around the room with his good eye. He'd positioned himself so that he could see the entire bar area as well as both the entrance and exit. His eye never stayed still for long, roaming around the room as his the fingers of his right hand stroked his wand handle. Alastor Moody was starting to somewhat enjoy his retirement. He'd been at this particular dive for three nights running though, and he'd already picked fights with the most likely suspects, leaving them tied up for the local aurors to take in for the dark artefacts they'd had on them. He was starting to think this particular watering hole was played out. Maybe he should think of venturing out to the Blackwater Oasis and having a go at the nundu that was rumored to haunt the place.

Suddenly, the door burst open, letting in a blast of hot air. Despite the fact that the sun had set, the Moroccan desert was always hot in summer, no matter the time of day. Moody glared at the stranger standing silhouetted in the doorway, his cloak billowing dramatically about him. The patrons all turned toward the man as the veela singer fell silent. The newcomer stepped forward, twirling his blond mustache as he swept off his hat and bowed. "Good evening ladies, gentlemen, and unnatural abominations. Tell me, have any of you wicked lot heard tell of a nundu in these parts recently?"

"And who the hell are you?" someone called.

The man flourished his cape, grinning roguishly. "Why it is none other than I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Monster Hunter Extraordinaire!"

A hush fell over the bar, and several patrons began to sweat nervously at the presence of the renowned gentleman adventurer and vanquisher of evil.

"You mean, you're here to see to that nundu that's out at the Blackwater Oasis and been terrorising the local villages lately?" someone called.

Lockhart flashed a grin, showing off his pearly white teeth. "Indeed I am! However, I am in need of a guide. And of course, perhaps a few good wands who would be willing to aide me in my latest heroic conquest? I'll be willing to pay, of course."

The bar fell silent. Moody picked up his glass and downed the last of his drink, then stood. "You're a bloody fraud, Lockhart. I've investigated your books, and half of what you claim to have done is bloody impossible! The other half has such a horrifically inconsistent timeline even a snot nosed firstie at Hogwarts could tell you were lying."

There was a collective gasp from the rest of bar.

Lockhart's eyes narrowed as he studied Moody. "Bold claims to make, stranger. I have given you my name. What, pray tell, is yours?"

"Nonya," Moody growled.

Lockhart rolled his eyes. "Oh, very clever. I suppose that is short for Nonya Buisness?"

"Ha! Guess you're not a complete idiot. Now clear off you wanker, and let a real professional handle the nundu."

"Well, if you make such bold claims, I demand to know your name sir."

"Why, so you can lie and take the credit for my deed?" Moody snarled

Lockhart drew his wand. "No, so that I know what to tell the gravedigger to carve upon your epitaph."

Moody fired first, letting loose with a barrage of bludgeoning hexes and stunners as he erected a shield and transfigured the table into a barrier he could fire through. The rest of the bar patrons dove out of the way and hid under the tables as Lockhart's shield sprang to life. Moody's spells shattered chairs and tables and sent shards of wood and stone flying through the air as they bounced off the barrier. Lockhart conjured up a dozen swords, and sent them slicing through the air at Moody's barrier.

"Not bad, boy, but you have to get up early in the morning to get the drop on me!" Moody waved his wand, and glasses and plates zoomed towards the swords, battering them aside. However, the swords proved to be just a diversion as Lockhart apparated behind Moody and let loose with a stream of stunners and binding curses.

Moody dropped to the floor, which he turned into a pit. He set the dusty stone floor to turn into a thick tar, causing Lockhart to swear as he was plunged into it.

"You oaf! This is cashmere and silk! It never cleans properly, even if I had a house elf handy!" Lockhart plunged his wand into the tar, which animated into a blob like monster and hurled itself towards Moody. The old auror rolled out of the way, sending blue flame at the tar beast and igniting it, then banishing it back towards Lockhart.

Lockhart parted the flaming tar, using his free hand to make a complicated gesture. He siphoned the fire off into his empty hand, then crafted a flaming javelin which he hurled back at Moody, who deflected it towards the bar where it burst apart into a cascade of sparks.

Coming up from the cellar, the bartender dropped the keg he'd retrieved."No fighting in bar!" The djinn roared as the sparks fell onto him. He drew his sword and rushed forward, conjuring a ball of flame in his off hand which he threw at Lockhart as he attempted to skewer Moody.

Moody sprang to his feet, conjuring up a war axe, which he wielded one handed as he crossed blades with the bartender. He grunted as the bartender pushed him back. Moody's footing was unstable with only one good leg, and he wasn't as young or as strong as he used to be. He tried to hex the djinn, but the fire spirit absorbed the magic with little to no effect. Moody spun away, putting the djinn between himself and Lockhart, hoping that his two foes would take care of each other.

However, Lockhart had blocked the flame with an opaque shield, and was lost to view. Moody swore, and focused on fighting his new foe. They danced back and forth for several seconds with a furious rain of blows. Moody was forced to holster his wand to wield the axe two handed, but never the less he became winded quickly.

"Foolish mortal! You are no match! You should have not fought in my bar!" the djinn growled. "I do not care if you fight after you leave, but in my bar, no fighting!" With a heave the djinn smacked away Moody's axe, then kicked him in the groin.

With a groan, the old wizard fell to the ground as the djinn raised his axe for the killing blow.

"-and with the key of Solomon, I bind thee!" Lockhart's voice cried as his shield vanished and he reappeared, extending a brass ring on the tip of his wand as his other hand made a gesture reminiscent of a keyhole.

The djinn let out a howl of anguish, struggling to resist the magical bindings that flew toward him from the ring. Despite his efforts, he was was sucked backward into the ring. Fiery red arabic letters glowed upon its surface for a moment before going dull. The ring clattered to the floor, where it spun for a moment, then lay still. Lockhart sprang forward to stand over Moody, who glanced at his axe. It lay just out of reach.

Instead of finishing him though, Lockhart extended a hand. "You fight well, for an old man."

Moody took the hand, groaning as he stood and his joints popped. "Guess I was wrong, you're obviously no fraud. You're not half bad, for an upstart kid."

The two wizards paused, glancing around the bar. Frightened patrons peered out from their hiding places, and a few beat hasty retreats out of windows or doors. The entire place was demolished, with broken glass and spilled drinks littering the floor.

"Well, I don't suppose any of you lot would be interested in being our guide?" Lockhart asked, looking to the few remaining patrons. They all wordlessly ran, not even stopping to loot the now untended bar. Shrugging, the monster hunter stepped over and picked up the ring, pocketing it in his waistcoat.

The bar was now empty, save only for the two wizards and the Veela singer. She stepped forward now, her raven hair and dusky skin unmarred by the dust filling the air. "I would be your guide," she said, her voice low and husky. "I am Nareh. My coven was driven from the oasis by the nundu. Many of my sisters died to its toxic breath. I would show you the way, though I cannot promise that we shall triumph. Even wizards as mighty as yourselves have fallen before such a beast. In times past, it has taken a hundred of my sisters to subdue a nundu."

Lockhart waggled his eyebrows roguishly. "Ah, but never before has a nundu faced Gilderoy Lockhart. And with companions such as this stout old man and a beauty such as yourself, the creature stands no chance."

"Full of yourself, aren't you?" Moody growled. He stomped over to the bar and poured himself a drink, then nodded to Nareh. "What are you having, love? Be a shame to go to our deaths without a last drink."

Nareh glided over and took a seat on a bar stool that only had half its upholstery burned away. "You do not think highly of our chances? Do you not intend to go?"

"Oh, I'm going alright. I'm old, retired, and bored. Be a good way to go, fighting a nundu. Not a bad end for a crusty old geezer like me."

"A good answer. I would have vodka, on the rocks."

Lockhart waved his wand, restoring Nareh's seat and transfiguring an elegant gilded chair for himself. "I'll have gin and tonic, old bean."

"Get it yourself, you popinjay. I pour for the lady only." Moody poured himself out a tumbler of whisky, then scooted it aside and drank straight from the bottle.

Lockhart laughed, waving his hand so that two bottles flew forward, and poured themselves into a glass before the monster hunter. He raised his glass. "To our fellowship! May our battles be glorious and our fans adoring!"

Moody and Nareh raised their glasses as well. They drank in silence for a few minutes, until Nareh frowned at Moody. "You have not told us your name?"

"Nope."

Lockhart chuckled. "Got secrets, have you?"

"Can never be too careful. Call me Constance Vigil."

Nareh smiled into her drink. "Well, Constance Vigl, if that is your name, what brings you to Morocco? You said you were retired?"

"I am. Had to get out of Britain for a bit. Figured this was as good a place as any."

Nareh nodded, then eyed Lockhart appraisingly. "I suppose there is no need to ask why you are here, Mr. Lockhart."

"Indeed not! I should hope my reputation precedes me. I heard the siren call of adventure, and I could do not but answer." Polishing off his drink, Lockhart smacked his lips. "Capital! Now, my friends, I suggest we get some rest. We leave at first light."

The sun rose upon three travelers riding out into the desert upon a magic carpet. Moody grumbled that such things were not proper, but Lockhart had only laughed and told him, "When in Rome, my good fellow, when in Rome!"

Nareh was silent, her eyes focused on the distant sunrise as they flew across the low rocky hills.

"So, we headed in the right direction?" Moody growled. "Might want to let the lady steer, 's the one who knows where we're going."

"Hmm? Oh, of course, of course. Gilderoy Lockhart does not mind an assertive woman, especially if she's as adventurous as you appear to be, my lovely Nareh."

With quiet expertise, Nareh took control of the carpet, guiding it deep into the desert. They flew for hours, keeping low to the ground and having to skirt a few muggle settlements and roads. Finally, in the distance they could see a shimmer of water and a hint of green. Nareh landed the broom behind a large rocky craig.

"The beast's lair is near the oasis, but its exact location I am unsure of," Nareh said in a low voice as Lockhart rolled up the carpet and shrank it for storage. "We must proceed cautiously."

"Constant Vigilance!" Moody growled, causing his companions to eye him skeptically. "It's the only way to survive."

"So your name is also your matra? Interesting," Lockhart mused. "I heard tell of a similar motto of an old Auror back in England."

"If you know what's good for you you'll forget all about that," Moody said, fixing Lockhart with a baleful gaze.

Raising his hands in surrender, Lockhart motioned onward. "Your secrets are your own, my irascible companion. For now, let us focus upon our quest. The nundu is a ferocious beast. Here, put these on."

Lockhart passed out respirators with attached oxygen tanks, along with goggles. "Muggle inventions. Don't turn them on just yet, but here is how you do it. When we find the nundu, this will allow us to breath. The goggles will keep our eyes from watering from the beasts poison. For now, however, our greatest foe is the merciless sun. I take it your water skins are full?"

"Do not worry about me, for I am veela. We are of the wind and fire. The sun is our ally. I only pray we encounter our foe during the daylight, for I shall be stronger then. It struck before at night, when my sisters were sleeping and weak. It slaughtered our mates and children. I would have vengeance, but I am no fool. We must not throw our lives away."

Moody raised the hood of his robe and took a swig from his hip flask. "This isn't my first campaign pup. Just watch your back, and keep a weather eye out."

Together, the three adventurers began to creep towards the oasis, weapons at the ready. Moody once more had his axe and wand out, while Lockhart carried an odd looking device that appeared to be a sort of crossbow with vials of potion ready to be launched on a bandoleer. Nareh carried two long curved knives, the blades glittering in the sunlight.

They reached a dune top that looked out over the Blackwater Oasis, and all three dropped to their bellies and crawled forward, examining the placid waters as the light breeze ruffled the palm fronds. For long minutes, they scanned the oasis for any sign, until Moody grunted and pointed with the haft of his axe. "There, you see? That mud hole along the eastern bank. Those look like nundu tracks. It must come there to roll in the mud and cool off."

Pulling out a set of omnioculars, Lockhart examined the mudhole. "Hmm, yes, the tracks appear to be recent too. I'd estimate they're a few hours old."

"Probably just before sunrise," Nareh said in a low voice. "They're mostly active at night. It probably stays near the oasis. It's the only water for miles; its prey would have to come to it."

"Where must it spend the days though," Lockhart mused, panning his omnioculars around. "Are there caves nearby?"

"No, but I would not be surprised if it laired in the remains of our coven, over there. You can see the remains of our mudbrick houses."

"Be bloody stupid of us to go poking about in there without a good idea of exactly where the beastie was first," Moody muttered. "Good place for an ambush."

Lockhart snapped shut the omnioculars and nodded. "Indeed. We should observe from here. For now, at least, we are downwind. When the beast comes out for the night, we can track it back to its lair and confront it at our leisure."

The day was long, hot, and dusty. Each of the travelers nursed their food and drink, taking turns sliding down to the shaded flank of the dune to get out of the worse of the blistering sun. Moody spent his turn in the shade napping, having long ago picked up the trick of sleeping anywhere at any time during the three wars he'd fought in over his lifetime.

At last, the sun began to sink beneath the horizon, and shadows stretched out long over the landscape. All three hunters crouched low at the top of the hill, beneath some camouflage netting Lockhart had strung out over the top of the dune. Frogs and toads struck up a chorus, filling the cooling air with their songs.

"Here, smear this on your face and under your arms," Nareh said, handing Moody a vial of something foul smelling.

He made a face. "Bah, what is this?"

"Nundu dung essence. Even if the wind shifts, it will hide our presence," Nareh explained.

"You're certain this isn't from a rival nundu? They're fiercely territorial you know," Lockhart said, sniffing his own vial.

"It is from the beast that attacked my village. It is safe."

Moody grunted, and smeared some of the foul concoction on. It wouldn't be the first time he had to put on something smelly when tracking his prey. Werewolves had sensitive noses as well, and if one smelled like a human they'd twig to your presence in a heartbeat.

The sun finally set, and Moody found himself missing his magical eye more than ever. It could see well in the dark, as well as having heat sensing and magical sensing properties. He had to make do with some nightvision charms he learned.

"Could you do those for me?" Nareh asked. "Veela are nearly blind in the dark. We are creatures of the day, and nearly helpless at night."

"Can't say they'll work well on you lass, but I'll try." Moody did the charms for Nareh, who smiled at him, her white teeth flashing in the darkness.

"Thank you, that is a little better at least. I'm am surprised; you are very accepting of me for an Englishman."

"As long as you're not a dark wizard, I don't give a damn what your blood status is," Moody said. "Some of my best friends were a half giant and an old werewolf."

"Silence. Use your ears. You cannot hear when you talk," Lockhart hissed.

Moody could have kicked himself. Here he was, chatting up a pretty bird instead of being constantly vigilant. Like a snot nosed recruit he was. Worse than that Tonks girl, she had never shut up at first. Moody absently wondered how his old trainee was doing. She was a nice enough girl, if a bit of a motor mouth. Dead useful being a metamorphmagus too.

About two hours after sunset, Moody heard movement to the west of the dune. A troop of barbary apes were making their way towards the oasis. The animals were tense, stopping frequently to stand on their hind legs and sniff the air. More than once, they looked to the dune top occupied by the hunters, chattering softly amongst themselves. At last, one brave ape hurried forward, using its hands to scoop up water quickly, before scampering up a date palm. The others apes observed its progress, and seeing it was unaccosted, they quickly moved forward and began to drink themselves.

Moody did not focus on the apes, instead looking towards the ruins of the veela village. There. He saw movement, a large, dark shape slinking around the edge of the oasis towards where the apes were drinking and collecting dates and palm nuts. It was hard to track in the shadows as the thing moved from cover to cover like lightning, at times even Moody lost sight of it as it seemed to split into fragments only to reform.

"Oh bugger," Lockhart muttered. "That's not one nundu."

The attack fell upon its victims like a meteor from on high. A single great shadow sprang forth, splitting into three parts that spewed poison and raked their victims with sharp claws. The apes howled in panic, but many fell dead from the toxic breath of the nundu and their sharp claws.

"By the prophet," Nareh swore. "A mother and her cubs."

As the toxic gas cleared and the last of the apes fled, Moody clearly saw one massive nundu feeding, alongside two slightly smaller beasts. "Twins," he grunted. "Yearlings by the look of it. No wonder your village fell. Even young nundu are dangerous in the extreme."

"It is hopeless," Nareh moaned softly. "It is three on three. We can never hope to triumph."

"Have faith, my dear. They have only evened the odds. For Gilderoy Lockhart is more than a match for any nundu born."

"I just hope you're half as good as you think you are," Moody muttered.

"Please, am I not the man who slew the Serpent of Slytherin, the Supreme Danger Noodle, and dueled the Girl-Who-Fought-Monsters herself?"

"That was an overblown media circus. Granger's a kid, and while a basilisk is dangerous, I heard you'd have been dead if it wasn't for the Weasley brood helping you."

"Ah, but I did prevail, did I not?"

They watched the nundus feed in silence. Once they had gorged themselves on the apes, the pride drank long and deeply from the oasis, before wallowing playfully in the mud. The creatures were cat-like, with spots like a leopard. However, their toxic breath came from a swollen throat pouch that made them look a bit like male lions, despite the fact that Moody knew at least the largest was female. Their tales were also barbed, as with their cousins the manticores. They could also blend into the rocks and sand like a terrestrial octopus, and their magic made it hard for the eye to follow them easily for long. However, it was the beast's' massive size that made them most impressive. The youngsters were the size of a black rhinoceros, while the adult female was as big as an indian elephant, though far more lithe.

As dawn neared, the beasts collected their kills and dragged them back to the village, leaving trails of dust and blood.

"That's our ticket in," Moody growled, getting ready to move forward.

Lockhart stopped him. "Wait. The nundu will be active for some hours yet. They will most assuredly fall asleep about midmorning. That is the time to strike, when they will be the most vulnerable."

Moody grunted and nodded, acceding to what was obviously Lockhart's area of expertise. The time seemed to inch forward as slowly as the sun, the burning orb creeping up the sky. Finally, Lockhart nodded, rising to a low crouch and leading the party down the lee side of the dune towards the oasis. They kept to cover, hurrying between rocks and patches of greenery, careful to avoid making any undue sound. Moody kept his axe and wand at the ready, his eye shifting around on the constant look for danger. They found the blood trail easily enough, the winds of the desert not quite having obscured it yet.

Together, the trio of hunters stalking into the ruined veela coven. The air was rank, the scent of poison and decay heavy on the air. Lockhart had them engage their respirators, and Moody breathed a bit easier. The blood trail led to the ruins of what at one point had been the veela's mosque, its ruined minarets reaching to the sky like bared fangs. In the side of the mosque was a large hole that revealed a hidden basement beneath, where a miasmic fog obscured vision.

Without speaking, Lockhart indicated where Moody and Nareh should take up positions. Once everyone was in place, Lockhart racked back his crossbow launcher and began to fire vials of potion into the hole. As soon as the potions struck, they exploded, releasing an frigid blast that froze the poison in the air and created a thick sheen of blue ice. Not long after the first vial struck, a ferocious yowl echoed through the ruined village, and Moody readied his axe as Nareh conjured balls of flame on the tips of her knives.

The first beast to bound out of the pit was one of the younger nundus. Its coat was slick with frost, and its eyes blazed with anger as it spewed venom with a mighty roar. Lockhart had to dodge out of the way of the creature's claws, but as he did so Moody let loose several blasting curses with his wand even as Nareh began to fling fireballs. The blasting curses shattered the ice and the fire turned it to steam, scalding the creature. It roared in pain, and Lockhart fired a vial of potion right into the creature's mouth. A look of surprise crossed the beast's face for a moment, before its frill suddenly swelled as blood and bile spewed from it's mouth. Icey spikes protruded from the frill, and the creature fell over, stone dead.

However, as they had fought, the second younger nundu had snuck around behind the party. It now spewed forth poison as it roared and sprang at Nareh. She whirled, her knives defecting the beast's talons as the veela shrieked her rage. She changed, becoming bird like, with wings and feathers lit with ghostly flames. The heat drove back the nundu for a moment, and Moody struck his axe biting into the nundu's flank. Virulent green ichor poured from the wound, and the old auror swore and dodged back as the acidic fluid scoured the very stone upon which he had been standing.

The nundu whirled, roaring and swiping at Moody with its long claws. They caught him in the chest, hurling Moody back against a ruined brick wall. He felt a rib crack, and gasped in pain. His axe clattered to the ground, but he kept his wand and conjured a shield which repelled the creature, its claws skittering off the glowing barrier. Nareh took this chance to strike, her knives wreathed in flame as she plunged them deep into the wound that Moody had already inflicted. As soon as she struck, she withdrew, firing a blast of flame and leaping into the air, taking wing and raining fireballs down from on high.

The nundu roared in pain, staggering from its wounds. Despite this, it leapt high into the air, it's jaws catching hold of one of Nareh's taloned feet, and dragging the wailing veela down to eart. Moody cast a cushioning charm, saving his companion. He took up his fallen axe, and buried it deep into the back of the nundu along its spin. The creature spasmed, its spinal cord severed. However, it's back leg once more caught Moody and raked his arm, the poisoned talons leaving burning red wounds. From below, Nareh struck upwards with the last of her strength, her twin blades finding the liver of the creature. Mortally wounded, the nundu spasmed again and again, spewing poison and roaring in anguish. Moody extracted his friend, and they hobbled away.

During their battle, Lockhart had not been idle. The adult nundu, initially trapped in ice, had broken free. It now battled the renowned monster hunter, fang and claw against wand and vial. Ice slicked the ruined village square, and Lockhart continued to keep his distance, throwing hexes and potions as the nundu scrambled across the slick terrain. The creature saw the last of its children's death throes, and became enraged. Leaping high into the air, the creature came down on Lockhart's position. Dropping his empty bandoleer, the hunter vanished with a crack, appearing some distance away. He hurled a bolt of lightning at his former position, and the vials of potion exploded. The nundu howled, one leg trapped in the ice. It snapped it's tail out, which caught Lockhart's wand arm, breaking both the limb and weapon.

Lockhart screamed in pain as the venom entered his bloodstream, but managed to dodge away before the tail could strike again. Moody tried to hex the creature, but he was too weak, his own wounds slurring his words as the poison burned like fire in his mind. Nareh tried to launch fireballs, but the elder beast's hide was simply too thick: they splashed against it no more effective than spitwads.

With a grunt of pain, Lockhart took the brass ring from his off hand, holding it up to the light as the nundu flailed and began to break free of the ice. "O' son of the desert, O' one born of sand and fire, serve me now your master, and slay this beast!"

"I HEAR AND OBEY!" bellowed the djinn, which appeared with a blast of scorching wind from the ring and raced towards the nundu, his great curved blade slicing through the air and severing the nundu's twitching tail. The nundu roared, shattering its barrier and leaping upon the djinn. Vanishing in a swirl of sand and wind, the djinn appeared behind the nundu, striking at its hide with its sword and carving a large gash.

As the two fought, Lockhart reached into his pocket and produced a spare wand. Leveling it, the monster hunter aimed carefully, chanting a long, complicated spell. Just as the nundu appeared to overwhelm the djinn, batting aside his sword with strong talons and raking his chest, a bar of white fire, so brilliant it blinded all who attempted look upon it, sprang from Lockhart's wand. It slammed right through the chest of the nundu and blew apart the wreckage behind it in a shower of rocky shards. With a final moan, the nundu collapsed.

Moody sank to his knees, his hands trembling as he removed his respirator and uncorked a vial of antidote. He hastily downed half, then crawled over to where Nareh lay panting and poured the rest down her throat. After a moment, the veela struggled up, clutching at her wounded side. She nodded her thanks and stook on shaky legs. Together, they walked over to where Lockhart knelt, the djinn standing over him, naked sword held above the monster hunters neck.

"Foolish mortal, it is folly to bind one of the children of the desert! You are skilled, I give you this, but I shall have my revenge."

"Hussain, leave him," Nareh ordered. "He has done us all a great service. Here, take the ring with which he bound you. Return to your bar, and trouble us no more."

Hussain the Djinn whirled upon the veela, his eyes wide with anger. Seeing her wounds, his gaze softened. He glanced around the ruined village, then at the corpses of the three nunda. "By the prophet, you have slain three such creatures? That is a feat unrivaled in all of Shahrazad's tales!"

"We," groaned Lockhart. "We have slain three such creatures. You are a nundu slayer as well, Hussain of the Desert."

The djinn laughed, a deep, full sound. "You would give credit to a djinn, even as the wizard who bound him?"

"It was with your aid we were victorious," Moody snarled. "Take your credit and go. And next time, think twice before crossing blades with me."

Hussain nodded, a smile upon his lips. "Very well. I shall depart. Perhaps it was worth being bound to do a deed so mighty." Taking up his brass ring, Hussain vanished like the desert wind, leaving the three alone.

Lockhart winced and sank back down into the dust, a smile upon his lips. "Dances with Djinns. Not a bad title for a book, I suppose."

Moody shrugged. "I'm more fond of Night of the Nundu myself."

"Oh, that's good that is. Might have to use it. You'll both have to give me your account number at Gringotts, I'll have my publisher send your cut there. I suppose I can just send Hussain's to his bar. Maybe a bit extra, we did tear up the place a bit."

Nareh looked around the ruined village, her expression mournful as she changed back to her humanoid form. "Though the beasts are slain, their taint will linger for many years. My people cannot return, and those who survive are scattered. Hussain is not likely to welcome me back to his bar either. What shall I do now?"

Lockhart lifted his head, grinning wickedly. "Why, come with us my dear! We make quite the team, and I hear there is a Kongamato loose in Zaire. Could do with taking down. After a bit of rest of course, I think we deserve a break at a nice luxury resort. I hear the Hyatt in Tagzahout Bay is lovely."

"And you just assume I'm going to come with you?" Moody growled, lifting his axe to his shoulder.

Lockhart laughed. "My dear fellow, an old auror as renowned as 'Constance Vigil' would never enjoy a quiet retirement. Let's face it, you were bored out of your mind before I came along."

"A life of adventure and travel does sound compelling," Nareh admitted.

Moody shrugged. "Well, it beats waiting on my pension."

As the noonday sun blazed overhead, the three companions laughed as they rose up on their flying carpet, heading across the sands to their next adventure.