Judging from its name alone, Fettle Clinic was an unassuming place.

As such, Frank was not surprised to find the clinic in a remote corner of the suburbs, just past the fringes of Lake Cove.

It was evening, but every door and window of the clinic was shut, as if closed for businesses.

Still, Frank's sharp hearing could pick up the voices inside.

He was alone, and it was a familiar face at that-it was Hardy Xinder!

Narrowing his eyes, Frank leapt agilely up to the second floor and slipped inside from a venting window.

Hardy, whose hair was now completely white, was sitting by a desk and asking into the antique rotary phone, "Hey, what's going on here? You're saying that there have been problems in Zamri, but what am I doing here?"

"What? A trap? What the hell are you talking about?!"

Hardy sounded clearly impatient and was even holding the phone as he paced around. "Damn it, Yaga-so what are you playing at?! Shouldn't the Lane family be going after Frank Lawrence's head by now?! And with your relatives in Bralog getting on his case too, he's not going to get away, is he?!"

"Wait, he's coming? Are you kidding me?!"

snapped furiously over the phone,

it, found a knife held there, pressed

to look who it was, he stammered as he said the name

I'd

knives on the table to restrain Hardy, but his

"It really is you!"

Baba Yaga's words

finding him in

demanded, "Talk! Where's Baba Yaga,

too, and he snapped back,

don't know, because I'm looking for her too! That hag was the one who called

"Wait, this is bad..."

a

"Kikiki... Hello, Frank Lawrence."

"I knew you'd make it as soon as lost contact with Borc. don't know how you found out who I am, but I

"What-"

a soft pop behind him, and green gas started ejecting out of a broken

and ran straight for the exit... where the green gas was. "Fuck!

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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