The breeze got stronger, dust around them whipped and scattered in it, the sound scaled up until it blotted out almost everything else. And despite her annoyance, Nita suddenly got lost in the old familiar exhilaration of magic working. From memory—for she and Kit had worked this spell together many times—she lifted her voice in the last chorus of it, where the words came in a rush, and the game and skill of the spell lay in matching your partner's cadence exactly. Kit dropped not a syllable as Nita came in, but flashed her a wry grin, matching her word for word for the last ten seconds; they ended together on one word that was half laugh, half shout of triumph. And on the word, the air around them cracked like thunder and struck inward from all directions, like a blow— The wind stilled and the dust settled, and they found themselves in the last aisle of a small chain bookstore, next to a door with a hand-lettered sign that said employees only. Kit put his manual away, and he and Nita were brushing themselves off when that door popped open and a small sandy-haired man with inquiring eyes looked out at them. "Something fall down °ut here? No? . . . You need some help?" "Uh," Nita and Kit said, still in unison. "X-Men comics," said Dairine, not missing a beat. "Up front on the right, in the rack," said the small man, and vanished through his door again. 342 SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WIZARD "Hope they have the new annual," Dairine said, brushing dust off her shorts and Admiral Ackbar shirt, and heading for the front of the store. Kit and Nita glanced ruefully at each other and went after her. It looked like it was going to be a long day. Passwords Like so many other human beings, Dairine had made her first major decision about life and the world quite early; at the age of three, in fact.