"Well," our guest began, very tentatively, though I could see the avid gleam in his eye. "If it's not too much trouble..."

"I'm next!"

"No, I'm next!"

As we came around the corner into the next street, a crowd all but filled the avenue. Men and women from every dimension I had seen were trying to get into a tent where I knew manuscripts and books were sold. A sign next to the door said "Autographing Today!" One after another, each person emerged from the throng triumphantly clutching a gaudy hardcover book. I peered at the title as a stout Troll went by with his book open in his huge hand. He studied something on the title page, and a tear rolled down his hairy cheek. I had to jump out of the way because he wasn't looking where he was going.

"Imps Are From Imper, Deveels Are From Deva," I read from the cover. "Well, that's obvious. Imps are from Imper. And Deveels are from Deva."

"Zol Icty!" Bunny cooed suddenly.

"What?"

"That's the author! He writes self-help books. They're, wonderful! I have all of them. Just wait here a moment, Skeeve. If he's here today I have to have a copy signed by him."

"Sure," I agreed. Bunny dived into the crowd pushing in at the door. I pulled Wensley out of the way of the excited shoppers to a safe vantage point across the street. As more people came around the comer and saw the sign, they shoved eagerly into the throng, blocking those who were coming out from inside. Yet, strangely, no one seemed to be angry or impatient. Usually if there was a desirable item for sale, teeth, claws and handbags were the weapons of choice to make sure one got one's hands on it. I felt the air for lines of force, but no perceptible magik was in use in the tent. Something else had to be going on to keep everyone in such good spirits.

About an hour passed before Bunny emerged. She had a starry look in her huge,