He rose until he was about six feet off the ground, then Makepeace took a

deep

breath and blew it out at him. Wyrdrune started to spin in midair like a

pinwheel, faster and faster and faster.

"Aaaaaaaaaah! Put me downnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!"

"Certainly," said Makepeace.

Wyrdrune went down with a splash into the fountain. Kira stifled a laugh as

he

got up shakily, water streaming from him. Several passersby had stopped to

watch

when Makepeace levitated him, and now others had joined them. The crowd was

enjoying the show.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Wyrdrune shouted at them.

"Uh, Dr. Makepeace, I think it's time we took this someplace else," said Kira.

"I think you're right, my dear," said Makepeace. As Wyrdrune climbed out of

the

fountain, Makepeace inhaled deeply and blew out at him again. Wyrdrune yelped

as

a fierce, hot desert wind hit him, blowing so hard that it almost knocked him

off his feet. He grabbed the side of the fountain as the hot, hurricane-force

wind howled around him, until he stood there, completely dry, gasping for

breath. The onlookers gave Makepeace a polite round of applause.

Thank you, thank you," Makepeace said, bowing to them. He turned back to

Wyrdrune. "Come on, kid. No hard feelings. I'll buy you a beer."

Lovecraft's on MacDougal Street was a small and relatively unpretentious bar

for

the neighborhood. The lighting was dim, the tables were rickety, the

tablecloths

were black, and the candles were all set in white ceramic skulls. The

bartenders

and waitresses were all dressed in black and made up to look like zombies,

with

huge circles of heavy black eye shadow that seemed to drip down onto the

cheeks

painted on their faces.

"You come here often?" Kira said, looking around at some of the other patrons

dubiously.

"The place has a certain decadent charm," said Makepeace. "It's a popular

literary hangout. Everybody in here looks either dead or depressed. Makes the

writers feel at home."

A slinky, black-clad young waitress set two pitchers of beer and two glasses

down on the table. She bent over and gave Makepeace an affectionate kiss, and

he

patted her on the bottom.

"Ah, thank you, Morticia," he said, sighing contentedly as he picked up one

of

the pitchers and drank straight from it. Kira poured a beer for herself and