You’re my addiction. And I’m afraid. Afraid that this wicked world into which you’ve pulled me will soon crumble to dust, leaving me with nothin.... We have to stop this! Please!” Somehow I had managed to say the words that had been at the top of my tongue. “I understand,” she replied, sitting down on the coffee table and playing with a loose curl, looking thoughtful and allowing me to feel a little relief. “It has all happened quite fast and you think that I won’t stop before something happens. I saw Quaithe, of course, the masked Shadowbinder from Asshai, who gave a rather curious look as I marched past her en route to my destination. It was past dusk, of course, so that my nest would not roast in the sunlight.As I entered the official chambers of the Thirteen, I slammed my open palm against their table, sounding like thunder. I had read about this trick from the novel Julian by Gore Vidal, which claimed it was a method used by an Etruscan priest named Mastara. Which was the name. More

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