“I stared up at the Erlking, and with my typical pithy brilliance said, "Uh-oh.”

“Come on," I said to Karrin. "Head for the other boat.""Should we?" she asked. "That Erlking guy seems a little..do-it-yourselfy.”

“Erlking,” I told her. “Big-time bad guy. Wants to eat me.”“Why?” she asked.“Well. I met him,” I said.”

“We start by sinking a barge," I decided. Then I blinked and looked at the Erlking. "Can we sink a barge?"The shadow-masked Erlking tilted his head slightly to one side, his burning eyes narrowed. "Wizard, please.”

“Oh, what would you like on your vegetarian pizza?" "Dead pigs and cows," I said. She glanced up at me and wrinkled her nose. "They're vegetarians," I said defensively.”

“I nodded to her. Then I eyed Maeve. "What about you? Holding anything back?""I want to take you to my bower, wizard," Maeve said, and licked her lips. "I want to do things to you that give you such pleasure your brain bleeds.""Uh," I said.Her foxlike smile sharpened. "Also," she said, "my people are about to attempt to kill you.”

“There was a click of high heels in the hall behind us, and a young woman appeared. She was pretty enough, I suspected, but in the tight black dress, black hose, and with her hair slicked back like that, it was sort of threatening. She gave me a slow, cold look and said, "So. I see that you’re keeping low company after all, Ravenius."Ever suave, I replied, "Uh. What?""’Ah-ree," Thomas said.I glanced at him.He put his hand flat on the top of his head and said, "Do this."I peered at him.He gave me a look.I sighed and put my hand on the top of my head.The girl in the black dress promptly did the same thing and gave me a smile. "Oh, right, sorry. I didn’t realize.""I will be back in one moment," Thomas said, his accent back. "Personal business.""Right," she said, "sorry. I figured Ennui had stumbled onto a subplot." She smiled again, then took her hand off the top of her head, reassumed that cold, haughty expression, and stalked clickety-clack back to the bistro.I watched her go, turned to my brother while we both stood there with our hands flat on top of our heads, elbows sticking out like chicken wings, and said, "What does this mean?""We’re out of character," Thomas said."Oh," I said. "And not a subplot.""If we had our hands crossed over our chests," Thomas said, "we’d be invisible.""I missed dinner," I said. I put my other hand on my stomach. Then, just to prove that I could, I patted my head and rubbed my stomach. "Now I’m out of character—and hungry.”