With a nod of acknowledgement, he puts away the case, then strikes the match on the stone covering his right forearm and lights up. As with the rosary, the holiness transferred into the tobacco from the water used to grow it doesn't seem to cause him any discomfort.

Xas' question gets a big slouchy shrug. "Wouldn't know. First thing I remember of my life was appearing in a fireball on the floor of a burned-out English church." The wallet containing his badge comes out again, and from one of the folds he takes out a photograph. "Look how cute I was.

"I kept getting told, back home, that someday I'd go down there, do my part for their war effort, bring Hell on Earth, but..." He shakes his head. "Nah. Not interested, not happening."