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“They do,” Marla said. “But your true name isn’t what’s on your birth certificate, and
anyone can use an alias.”
“The Celestial believes that to name something is to limit it. He does not wish to limit
himself. After you finish your business with the Cornerstone, and you officially owe the
city a favor, he will be forbidden to harm you. In the meantime, though…” He spread
his hands apologetically. “You’re just a tourist who pissed him off. Shall we meet here,
bright and early, say 7 A.M.? I’ll take you to the Cornestone then, and you can be on
your way by lunchtime.”
“I’d rather go now.”
Finch scowled. “You may not have noticed, but I’m soaking up the energy of several
score romping bodies. I’m busy for the evening.”
“Then just tell me where the Cornerstone is.”
“No. I won’t have you carrying off my city’s major artifact.”
Marla opened her mouth, started to protest, then stopped. “Yeah, okay. Fair enough. I’d
do the same in your position.” How could she possibly sleep tonight, wondering if
Susan was going to cast her spell? Her source had told Marla she had a day or two, but
her source had been discovered. Still, that didn’t mean Susan could rush ahead and cast
the spell early. It would require peace and meditation and preparation, after all, and
Susan was probably a bit agitated after maiming Marla’s informant. Marla wanted to get
her protective spell over and done with, but tomorrow morning was probably soon
enough. It would have to be. She didn’t think she could beat the Cornerstone’s location
out of Finch, especially not with all the energy he had to draw on from downstairs. “I’ll
see you first thing tomorrow. I appreciate your help.”
“I’m just doing what’s in the best interest of the city,” he said. “If I denied you, I doubt
you’d go away quietly. I’m sure you’d do the same in my position.”
“Probably I’d just kill me, if I were in your place,” Marla said.
Finch nodded. “Oh, it crossed my mind to try, but I think I’d rather have you owe my
city a debt. We can discuss more specific terms tomorrow. Go on downstairs, and enjoy
the party.” He stood up. “And never burst into my private rooms again, or we’ll see
which of us is really the better sorcerer.”
Marla considered letting that go past, letting Finch get in the last word on his home turf,
but it simply wasn’t in her character. “I don’t have to be the better sorcerer to turn you
into a heap of meat and a bewildered ghost, Finch,” she said. “You might be a halfdecent
pornomancer, but I could feed your balls to you in a fight.”
“Oh, please,” he said, and suddenly Finch was gone, replaced by a shaggy grizzly bear
with ragged claws and a powerful stench. The bear, towering over her, cocked its head
and yawned.