He was dreaming, recalling his restoration, his rebirth - and it was not all that pleasant ...

He was Vandal Savage, an immortal.

He was dead - he clearly remembered his three deaths, in different time periods, at the hands of those he'd been used to thinking of as 'Hunter's Idiots'.

It was only gradually that the implication of the fat that he was having conscious thoughts occurred to him. He could not be truly dead. But whatever state he was in - alive or in some kind of afterlife - he didn't like it. Wherever he was, it was pitch black and full of forces and pulled and pressed on him, stretching him to the point where he thought he was about to be pulled apart, then squeezing him to the point where he was almost squashed out of existence.

Finally, he opened his eyes and mouth, breathed and let out something that was half-way between a groan and a scream. Every part of his body was aching.

A face that he didn't recognise leaned over him with a concerned expression. A voice, coming from someone out of his field of vision, ordered ''Give him the Colardrian now.''

He was struggling to find the words to ask what that was, when he appeared to be stabbed in the arm. Words formed in his mouth, but then he realised that the pain he was in had begun to ebb away. Taking a few deep breaths, he felt his heart and the rest of him begin to settle down, to return to normal. He looked once more at the face looming over him and then turned his head to bring the other one into view.

''Caspar and Dronon.'' His voice was a harsh rasp. He recognised them as two minor members of the Time Masters' Council.

''Water.'' Caspar, who'd previously been out of view, slipped a hand behind his head, lifting him to the point where he could drink. He realised that he was feeling weak. He didn't like it. ''Your strength will return'' Caspar assured him ''You'll need to eat and drink as soon as possible.''

''I was dead?'' It was not quite a question.

''You were'' Caspar gave an enigmatic smile ''but Time Masters have a few tricks up their sleeves. There's a lot we have to tell you.''

Twenty-four hours later, he was wondering how much of a favour they had actually one him. He was alive, yes, thank you, and he was immortal. But, like most aspects of Holaristan science - they were also the creators of the Lazarus pits - there was a downside. He needed daily doses of Colardrian to keep the pain from coming back with a revenge.

And he was rapidly coming to realise that Caspar and Dronon had their limitations as allies. He needed someone better. He had to find Nikki.