lightning stripes. A bright green emerald was embedded in the center of his

forehead. The runestone was partially covered by his shoulder-length, curly

blond hair.

"Right," he said, "now what did you... ?" He glanced all around the room, but

Kira was nowhere in sight. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh, no. Not again."

There was a sharp, insistent rapping at the window. Kira was standing

outside,

on the fire escape.

Wyrdrune exhaled heavily with relief. He hurried over to the window and

opened

it. He extended his hand to her and helped her in, then his eyes grew wide

and

he gasped, stiffening with pain as she squeezed his hand in a bone-crushing

grip. "Aah! Aaah! Kira! Stop! Please...."

He went down to his knees, then clutched his hand to his chest protectively

as

she released him.

"Ow! Damn, you're strong! It feels like you broke it!"

"Next time I will break it, so help me!" she said, glaring at him furiously.

"Six more inches to the right, you bird-brain, and you would've dropped me on

the sidewalk!"

"I'm sorry! It was an accident...."

"That's what you say every time! What the hell is wrong with you? Why can't

you

learn to cast one lousy little teleportation spell without screwing something

up? What've you got against cabs, anyway?"

"Oy, gevalt! Enough already with this mishegoss!" A spindly-looking straw

broom

came swaying into the room on its bristles. It had thin, rubbery arms with

four

fingers on each hand, and its matronly voice seemed to be coming from

somewhere

near the top part of its handle, although it had no mouth. It had no hips,

either, but that didn't stop it from putting its hands were its hips might

have

been if it had hips. "Arguments, arguments, always with the arguments! Always

with the yelling! A person would think you . two were married! What is it

this

time?"

"You want to know what it is? I'll tell you what it is," snapped Kira. "I'm

getting sick and tired of being popped into closets and dropped into

dumpsters

and teleported onto fire escapes and—" She broke off and rolled her eyes up

at

the ceiling. "Will you listen to this, for cryin' out loud? I'm explaining to

a

stick?'

"Well! Excuse me for living," the broom said huffily. "Is that gratitude, I'm

asking you? I work around here till I could plotz, scrubbing my fingers to