" Take it easy, Kid," Mike soothed, tossing another stick of wood on the fire as they sat on the ground outside their tent. "What's happened is, you'v... probably just blown a fuse or something. From what they tell me, that was one Hell of a blast of energy you was putting out, there at the last. You held off fifty or sixty topnotch adepts, all by yourself. So all right, you can't throw things around bareminded. So what? I ain't got none of them fancy powers, and I'm doing okay." The powers will. Somewhere between the Catholic and Orthodox New Year celebrations the shop windows dressed red in advance for the Valentines. In the mesmerizing atmosphere of the commercially catalyzed happiness the three of us walked in silence. Me, Stan, and the vastly overrated French tennis mug Guillaume Rufin on Stan's iPhone. It's been five hours we haven't talked with the exception of a few short clauses about the place to go for a dinner. I could barely keep up with the pace in my black knee-length. More

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