"I'll send my secretary that way. He's discreet, much more so than I," Doug replied. The main reason was that he didn't care for London too much, and only came down these days if he had no choice, or to visit family, and even then he didn't stay too long. He much preferred the open space of the English country, or the Tibetan plateau for that matter.

As Lazarus seemed to all but sing, and while Doug tucked the business card into a pocket of his suit, the wizard clapped a hand on the horse.

"There's an old saying that goes, if they'll lock the door, we'll come through the window, and if they close the window, we'll come down the chimney. It's all a matter of ingenuity."

He drew out the last word, punctuating every syllable.

Lazarus was surprised to feel something unfamiliar, an emotion his useless heart unbeating all these many years had almost forgotten - he was excited. Something new was going to happen. It was so long since something truly new happened.

"I'm getting to like you wizards," he said with a fangy smile. "Old pals. Well, well. See you at the dance, then."

He clapped a cold hand on Prewett's shoulder, backed away a few steps, turned on his heel and fell backwards into the form of a little brown bat. Screech, screech.