"Okay its morning, now tell us why I have blisters on me blisters before I rip out your spleen," growled John.

"Okay, the short answer is that we traveled to another earth that has its own London," said Xander as he gathered up the gear.

"That does nothing to explain why you had us walking for two days straight when we could have just opened a portal in London!" exclaimed Tim.

"We didn't open a portal in your London because directly linking the magic's of our world and this world would have vaporized half of each world. I don't know about you but I didn't want to be responsible for destroying two worlds in one shot," said Xander in an even tone. "By going through Fairy what ever personal magic you two have has been altered so that it will work here."

"Well at least it won't be another day of walking, I can see it form here. If any of us had the sense of bringing a phone we could have called a cab to pick us up," said John.

"I still have five gold coins and I'll give them all to you if you can get a cab to stop for you once we get to London," said Xander with a smile.

"I know that they are all crooks, but cabs don't charge five gold," said John with his own cheeky grin. "Unless there is something about cab prices here that we should be aware of that is."

"It's not the cabs, its us," said Xander. "On this world magic has been shoved so far into the shadows that it and everything touched by it is invisible to anyone who hasn't been touched by it. We have been touched by it, so no one in London Above will notice us, and that means no cab rides."

"London Above?" asked Tim, proving that he wasn't just a kid with a bad attitude.

"That's where the people who haven't been touched by magic live. They have things like soft beds, restaurant, and indoor plumbing. Want to guess what we get in London Below?"

"Crap and magic?" moaned Tim.

"Crap and magic," said Xander.

"Remind me to thank Ripper for this trip, preferably with something that will make his piss burn," said John.

"On behalf of the G-man, Hey!"

One hour later Xander walked with confidence down the forgotten tunnels below London. They continued down the seemingly random paths until they stopped in front of a pile of rags.

"Wake up de Carabas, we have business," said Xander.

"You're talking to a pile of rags mate," said John.

"At least he is polite about it," said the rags. Soon the rags shifted and straightened to the form of a man. "Now before you tell me what you need from me, tell me what you are willing to give me."

"Information," said Xander.

"I deal in favors. If all you have is information, we will part company now," said the strangely clothed man.

"The information concerns information about one of the seven."

This caused the self titled Marquis de Carabas to pause in his departure. Turning he said, "To which seven would you be referring to? Seven is a very powerful number, and there are quite a few groups and artifacts that make use of that number."

"I'm talking about the biggest group of seven out there, the Endless."

"Information about that particular group of seven is volatile as often as it proves useful. Tell me what member you have information on before we continue," said the Marquis.

"I'm talking about the one who left his realm. The information is only volatile if you use it wrong, much like all information," said Xander.

"Information about that particular member of the Endless is quite valuable, and volatile. You have only recently entered London Below, if your clothes are any indication, so what makes you able to say how volatile your information is."

"If we had belonged to The Above until just recently we wouldn't have known about you, only our information. The fact is that we have traveled from another world to here with the information we are prepared to offer you. If it had been too explosive it would have destroyed us before now."

"The payment is one large service over a short period of time, or one small service over a long period of time. Anything more would probably end up costing me another life, a price that is far too high to pay," snapped de Carabas.

"One small service over a short period of time, and a favor if I or my friends should ever need it," said Xander. "Before you reject the price, remember that we are from another world and have every intention of returning to said world. Chances are that you will never see any of us again."

"Done," spat the Marquis. "Now tell me what you need, and the information you promised."

"What we need is for you to take us to the next Market. After the Market we will give you the information promised, but not before or the information will become as dangerous as you fear it will be," said Xander in a firm tone. He had taken a risk by identifying who he had information on; he wasn't going to take any others.

"The next Market is tonight at the Tower of London. If you have traveled from another world, then I suggest you get some rest. After all I wouldn't want you to forget any of my information."

"Good point," said Xander as he sat down to get some rest.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" hissed Tim as he sat down next to Xander.

"What was what about?" responded Xander.

"He's talking about the way you were talking back there. You sounded almost like a completely different person when you were talking to that de Carabas fellow," said John from Xanders other side.

"Different how?" asked Xander with a feeling of dread.

"You sounded older, as in centuries older," said John.

"You also sounded like you had lived here for a while as well," chipped in Tim.

Xander stifled a sigh as his fears were confirmed. Deciding that telling his companions the truth may endanger them he simply said, "Listen I won't lie to you and say that this isn't a big deal, because it is. All I can do is tell you that the changes won't hurt you. As far as telling you guys why I'm changing, I can't. If I tell you now chances are we will die, but I promise I'll tell you as soon as its safe."

"That's not good enough," said Tim. "I'm sick of your cryptic shit. If I'm going to bloody well die, then I want to know what in the bloody hell I'm going to die for!"

Xander should have felt moved at Tim's impassioned plea, but it was all he could do to keep himself from bursting out laughing. When he glanced at the growing anger on Tim's face he realized that he wasn't doing a good enough job and said, "Sorry, it's just that I never pictured myself becoming cryptic guy, but at least I'm not brooding. Listen I promise that all of your questions will be answered by this time tomorrow, same as the Marquis."

Knowing that he wouldn't get any more information out of Xander Tim decided to catch a quick nap before they went to the Market.

That night Xander wove his way through the throng of beings that had come to the Floating Market. He ignored the calls to buy things ranging from trash, to things he could hardly imagine. He ignored those calls, because there was only one being he was interested in tonight.

"Get your portraits here!" bellowed a cheerful voice into the crowd. "Painting of things, people, and all places imaginable are available here!"

"Not him again," muttered de Carabas.

"You know him?" asked Xander with a smile.

"He comes around every now and then to sell his paintings. If that is the reason you came to the Market I would suggest another painter, his paintings aren't all that good," said the Marquis with a slight sneer in his voice.

"If I want a painting I'll paint one my self, it's the painter you should have looked at de Carabas. Now prepare for the information I promised you. Same goes for you Tim," said Xander.

As they approached the stall the group could begin to be able to make out the painter. He was a large muscular man, with fiery red hair. His voice was joyous, and the smile on his mouth seemed to fit perfectly on his face.

"Welcome," said the man. "Everything I have here is for sale. If you want something painted that isn't here, tell me and I'll have it ready by the next Market."

"I'd rather talk in private with you if you don't mind," said Xander.

"What do you have to talk about to me about that would require secrecy?" asked the man in a care free tone.

"Your family to begin with," said Xander as he tried to push down the fire in the back of his head.

The smile faded from the mans face and his eyes became somber. Quickly packing up his paintings the man said, "Give me a moment, and you will have your conversation."

As the large man led the way out of the Market, Xander tried to focus on the reason he was here. He hadn't expected this particular turn in his quest and it was throwing him for a loop.

"This spot should do nicely. Now say what you have to say," said the man.

Before Xander could respond a large sword leapt from the pocket of the man and imbedded itself in the ground half way between Xander and the man. Struggling to stay up Xander said, "Lest start with your family. A few days ago my friend died saving the world. I didn't think that was very fare so I made a deal with your sister, if I can get five of her six brothers and sisters to agree that by friend should be brought back then my friend gets another chance at life."

"Interesting," rumbled the man. "I'm afraid that I can't help you though. I abandoned my realm several hundred years ago. I am no longer a member of the Endless, and can't help you."

"That doesn't matter!" shouted Xander as the man began to move toward the sword. "She didn't ask for members of the Endless, she asked for her brothers and sisters! I have an uncle that hasn't worked for twenty three years, but he is still my uncle, still a member of my family."

"Good point," said the man as he stroked his chin. "Tell me though why should your friend be brought back? It has been my experience that the dead are often better off staying that way."

"I wish I could tell you," said Xander as sweat began to form on his brow. "I wish I could tell you about how important she is to my world, but I can't. All I can say is that if you don't agree I'll give in and do what they want."

"Do what who wants?" asked the man with a raised eyebrow.

"The universe, the powers, I don't know and at the moment I don't care. All I know is that if destruction was meant to be disorganized you would have never developed. After you left there was a void that others want to be filled, and I've been chosen to fill it because I grabbed a pair of fatigues from the one war you fought on the loosing side," said Xander in an exhausted voice.

"The Chaos magic," whispered the man.

Xander simply nodded and said, "Yeah, that. You tried to lessen or sever the bond, but you couldn't. That is how I knew how to ender Destinies realm, that Dream and Despair have died, and any number of things that I have no right knowing. No vote, or so help me I will take the sword and become Destruction, and cast it myself."

"You could have done so as soon as the sword first came between us, but you didn't. That alone tells me what kind of person you are, and what kind of person your friend likely is. Because of that I vote to have my sister bring back your friend," said the man who was once Destruction. As he was about to pick up his sword he added, "You know what will happen to you if you don't take the sword."

"Yeah, but I've made arrangements," said Xander with more strength than he had a moment ago. "Just do me a favor and visit your family. Despair misses you a lot and would enjoy seeing you, even if she wouldn't show it."

The man just laughed and said, "Very well. Would you like a quick way home as well?"

"Yes!" said Tim. "Don't think I could take another hike like the one it took to get here."

With a deep laugh and a wave of his hand the man opened up a rip in space itself. With Xander leading the way four men took a few steps and were home.

In the shadows of London Below, the Marquis de Carabas was pleased with the deal that had just been concluded. Knowing the face of Destruction, and what dangers were after him at this time were worth more than the favor still owed.