He found them sitting in a booth in Davey P’s Diner.

Pete was stupefied. Rooted to the sidewalk outside. This was a Presto magician. And yet the man looked so lifelike, so alive. Unlike the photos Pete had seen, Roman Emperor’s face moved when he blinked, his hands moved when he brought the fork to his lips, and when a cloud passed in front of the sun, it turned his hair from dark to black.

A raindrop fell from the sky and Pete recalled, vaguely, that it was going to be a boomer of a rainfall tonight. That’s what Mom called it. Said people in town were preparing themselves for a flood. But the only flood Pete was worried about right now was the possibility of wetting his pants as he stared at the two legends beyond the glass.

Pete entered Davey’s in a dream. He could hardly walk normal, one sneaker in front of the other. As he stepped to the host stand, Maggie looked up, and Pete felt a chill. Eye contact. She could tell, he believed, that he’d studied them.

She knows.

Pete sat at the corner of the counter on a stool. Only ten feet now from Emperor’s back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the magician’s black hair, his brown vest, and the white long-sleeved shirt beneath it. Emperor looked so strong…so real…so—

“Kid,” a voice said.

“What?” He swiveled on his seat. The waiter tapped his fingers on the counter.

“You want a menu? You know what you want? The Davey P special perhaps?”

“A…a coffee,” he answered.

“Coffee? How old are you?”

Pete turned red. “Is there an age limit?”

The waiter frowned. “Okay, smart-ass. One coffee coming right up. But don’t blame me if it stunts your growth.”

Rain started to fall harder outside the diner.

He looked back toward the pair nervously. Maggie was blocked by the back of Roman’s head.

Okay, Pete thought. This is it. It simply has to be.

His legs trembled.

“Here’s your coffee, kid.”

Okay. Your name is Pete. Three…

“Don’t blame me if you go berserk from the caffeine.”

Two…

“Don’t blame me if you can’t sit still.”

One.

“Don’t blame me if—”

Pete stood up. He walked to their table. Maggie saw him coming and held his gaze. Once he was beside them he stopped and opened his mouth.

But nothing came out.

When Roman turned to face him, Pete felt like he might melt into the diner tiles.

“Hello,” Maggie said.

Up close, Roman did look different in person. To Pete he looked…sad.

“I’m sorry,” Pete said. The words tumbled up his throat, out his mouth. “I’m your biggest fan in Goblin and maybe the whole world, too. I know everything there is to know about you.” He reddened. “I mean…everything you’ve told anyone.”

Roman blinked. His expression did not change. “That’s wonderful,” he said. And Pete thought he saw something young happen to Roman. As if suddenly the Presto legend was a kid himself again.