approximately two thirds of her height and with red hair that was clipped short to draw attention to the silky skin of her cheeks and neck. Don't misunderstand me—I wasn't interested in Bunny romantically. I had once underestimated her because of her looks. She had used them as camouflage to conceal a surprising intelligence, something that we in M.Y.T.H., Inc. came to appreciate more than her family and former associates in the Mob had. She was one of my best friends, someone whose judgment I trusted absolutely. It didn't hurt that she was fun to look at.

I'd been living back in the old inn for a few months, since leaving the other members of M.Y.T.H., Inc. behind in the headquarters we shared in the Bazaar on Deva. Bunny, our company accountant, had agreed to come along with me to act as my assistant and companion in my self-imposed exile on Klah. I had quit the company to study magik—really study, instead of faking it and learning a technique only when I needed it, sometimes almost too late to save our necks. Since the murder of my first master Garkin by an Imp assassin, my education had been taken over by Aahz. That period of my life consisted of one adventure after another, punctuated by emergencies, alarums, excursions, danger, lectures, financial crises, near forced marriages, and complicated political situations.

I had really enjoyed it. Then I had begun to think about my situation. I had been promoted far above my skill level. The time had not yet come when someone called me on it, but I kept waiting for that knock on the door, the one that would herald the coming of a dark, hooded cosmic being who would point a sepulcheral finger at me and proclaim, "You're a phony!" Then Ogres with moving carts would strip everything out of the offices, and I'd be evicted onto the street with my simple belongings wrapped in a handkerchief, while everyone I had ever met laughed at my humble retreat.