The Death of the Necromancer

Octave staggered to his feet, his stick swinging back to point toward Nicholas. He felt a wave of heat and saw spellfire crackle along the length of polished wood, preparing itself for another explosive burst. Crack was moving toward Octave, but Madeline shouted, "Get back!" Nicholas ducked, as a shot exploded behind him. Octave fell backward on the carpet and the blue lightning flared once and vanished with a sharp crackle. Nicholas looked at Madeline. She stepped forward, holding a small double-action revolver carefully and frowning down at the corpse. He said, "I wondered what you were waiting for." "You were in my line of fire, dear," she said, preoccupied. "But look.

I have a plan.” This was true. “I just don’t know whether it will actually work or not.” This, unfortunately, was also true.

Can you be a trifle more obscure? I think I almost understood what you said that last time.

Oh, I’ve no sense of self-preservation,” Reynard replied easily. “That’s what I depend on you for.

They're coming this way, quickly!' 'I didn't really want to know that.

As the waiter led them among the tables, Nicolas saw that Madeline was by no means the only woman dressed as a man, or vise versa in the crowd.