“No they called it the Codex Merlini because it was written by a guy named Ralph.”

“This had expectations written all over it. Expectations that I was going to fuck up royally because I wasn’t the kind of gal who wore designer nightwear and knew what all the forks were for. I was the kind of gal who thought the nightgown drawer was where old T-shirts went to die and who had only started using forks in the last century.”

“Who is this Marlowe guy anyway? He's an ass. Threw him out. Threatened to have Ysmi sit on him if he returned.Why are there two severed heads rolling around the house? Cats tried to eat one. Mostly prevented.Headless guy is in hallway broom closet with head that I think is his.”

“Huh.”“Huh what?”“Would you look at this?” he asked, examining a small box. “It says it glows in the dark.”“So?”“So, what use is that to anybody? I mean, what am I supposed to do? Write her name inthe air with it?”

“I lay there, no longer fighting, since my head was spinning too much. And because I wasn’t going to win anyway. And because I kind of liked the feeling of sensual captivity, at least by this particular jailer.”

“You will die a worse death if you do not leave my domain,” a voice thundered down from the third story of the old tenement. “I am a servant of the Sacred Fire, the wielder of the flame of Arnor—”“So I should call you Gandalf?”

“I left it with a warmer,” he said drily. Because war mages ate their fried chicken frozen to the ground and they liked it.”