"When there's a computer here? Nita, sometimes you're such a spud." Nita folded her arms and leaned against the dresser, ready to start a lec-ture. Her sister, unfortunately, took all the fun out of it by mocking Nita's position and folded arms, leaning against the doorjamb. Funny how someone so little could look so threatening: a little red-haired eleven-year-old stick of a thing in an Admiral Ackbar T-shirt, with a delicate face and watery gray eyes-337 HIGH WIZARDRYProblem was, there was someone smart behind those eyes. Someone too smart.Nita let out an annoyed breath. "I won't kill you this time," she said. "I wasn't worried about that," Dairine said. "And you won't turn me into a toad or anything, either, so don't bother trying that line on me. . . . C'mon, let's watch Mom 'n' Dad mess it up." And she was out the door.Nita made a face. It didn't help that Dairine knew she was a wizard. She would sooner have told her parents about her wizardry than have told Dairine.Of course, her folks had found out too … Nita headed out the bedroom door and down the stairs. The living room was full of boxes and packing material, loose-leaf books, and diskette boxes. Only the desk by the window was clean; and on it sat a cream-colored object about the size and shape of a phone book—the key-board/motherboard console of a shiny new Apple IIIc+. "Harry," Nita's mother was saying, "don't plug anything in, you'll blow it up. Dairine, get out of that. Morning, Nita, there's some pancakes on the stove.""Okay," Nita said, and headed into the kitchen. While she was still spreading maple syrup between two pancakes, someone banged on the screen door."C'mon in," Nita said, her mouth full. "Have a pancake." Kit came in: Christopher Rodriguez, her fellow-wizard, quick and dark and sharp-eyed, and at thirteen, a year younger than Nita. And also suddenly two inches taller, for he had hit a growth spurt over the summer. Nita couldn't get used to it; she was used to looking down at him. She handed him a pancake.
