Anne’s a superb cook. She told us that she grew up doing the cooking for her house, and it shows—she can make a meal out of literally anything and it’ll taste good. Luna isn’t bad, but she’s accident prone. The bad luck from her curse may not affect her, but it works just fine on everything else, and putting her in an environment filled with lit fires, sharp knives, and potentially poisonous substances is just a really bad idea. Her last attempt at oil frying is the reason I’ve got a CO2 extinguisher mounted on the wall. Variam is terrible. His dishes come in three flavours: scorched, charred, and burnt to a crisp. I have the suspicion that he makes it awful on purpose just so he doesn’t get asked to do it again, but I can’t prove it.

Anne met me with a smile and a plate of delicious fried stuff. “Anne, I love you,” I said as I took it from her.

Anne laughed. “You probably say that to any woman who feeds you.”

“I didn’t say it to the last woman who used this kitchen before you and Luna.” I sat down at the table and started eating. It tasted as good as it smelt.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” I said between mouthfuls. “Turned out she was working for a guy who wanted to kill us. She helped catch me and Luna so he could have a try at murdering us both. Was one of my more spectacularly dysfunctional breakups.”

Anne paused and looked at me. “You’re not joking, are you?”

“I’ll tell you the story sometime,” I said. “Vari gone out?”

“He went for a run.” Anne took the remainder of the sausages, hash browns, and bacon from the pan and divided them in two. Half went on her plate and the other half in another pan, which she closed carefully.

I nodded at the pan. “For Vari?”

“Mm-hm.” Anne took her plate over and sat opposite me. She had just as much food as I did. Anne may be thin, but she eats a lot.

“It really annoys Luna that you’re always so nice to him.”

“I know,” Anne said with a rueful look. “I keep telling her I don’t mind.”

I laughed. “You never mind being nice to people.”

“Well . . . maybe sometimes,” Anne said with a quick smile. “Vari can be bad-tempered, but he’s not a bully. He never tries to control anyone. And . . . he’s a little nervous at the moment.”

I looked at Anne in surprise. “Why now?”

“He’s worried we’ve been looking for a master for too long,” Anne said. “We’re not really supposed to be in the apprentice program, are we? Vari thinks that the longer this goes on, the more chance someone will start paying attention to us.”