No sword. No Thorfinn. Not even ashes. For a moment I panicked. Had I somehow not killed him? No, I was able to reassure myself. He was dead. Not even...someone as powerful as he was could survive his head being cut off. As the feeling came back into my body I began to itch. I was covered in fine dust. If it had been possible for me to sneeze I would have been doing so. Instead I brushed the accumulated dust off my body. I looked around again and saw nothing. Shrugging my shoulders I left,. "I'll see what I can do," she said before kissing the phone and hangingup.She had just started to get dinner ready, doing some preliminary slicingand chopping, when she heard giggling in the hallway. Knowing whom thevoice belonged to, she opened the door. Sure enough, there was David,now 15, dressed as Deanna.Deanna's long blonde hair tumbled down over her shoulders with madabandon. She was wearing the uniform of a girls' uptown parochial highschool - a short pleated baby blue skirt, white. More

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