by Alexis Hall
At this, she subjected me to one of her particularly withering looks. “You’ve been living with me for over a month and you’ve only just noticed?”
“I meant, in particular. Rather than in general. Are you, perhaps, upset about Miss Viola?”
“Do you mean, am I upset that an old friend may be about to repeat the worst mistake of her life? Or do you mean am I upset that my old friend has found contentment when I have not?”
“Both? Either? I hope you feel you can be open with me, Ms. Haas.”
My companion, with some effort, levered herself into a sitting position. “Mr. Wyndham, in order that you may be under no illusions going forward let me explain to you how this relationship works. You may share these rooms with me at a reasonable rent for as long as you wish. I shall, from time to time, wish to consult with you on matters pertaining to the eclectic set of activities I call my work. On occasion, I shall be bored and will call upon you to amuse me. But I am never, ever going to talk to you about my”—she grimaced—“feelings.”
“I quite understand. But, regardless, I should like you to know that despite its perils I have enjoyed our time together immensely.”
“You are a strange man, Captain. But then, I have little time for ordinary people.” And with that, Ms. Haas slumped back down into a position much like the one in which I had first found her. “Now make yourself useful and pass me that needle and the seven percent solution. There will be a new caller soon enough but, until then, I would rather be in any state of consciousness save the natural.”
Though it ran contrary to my personal inclination and professional judgement, I did as she asked. Without further comment, she induced in herself a state of narcotic delirium and I, finding I could be of no further assistance to her, returned to my room, where, still too animated to sleep, I began to put down the notes from which, twenty years later, I have compiled this manuscript. This habit I continued throughout all of our many adventures, though my companion often mocked me for it. I am glad now that I did, for I miss her deeply and hope that these tales will stand as some small tribute to the extraordinary life of my dear friend, the sorceress Shaharazad Haas.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you, as ever, to CMC, the best agent in this or any other universe. And to my utterly fabulous editor, RB, for her unflagging enthusiasm, insightful criticism, and frankly extraordinary patience, along with all the team at Ace for so thoroughly living up to the name of their imprint. You made me really feel like this book had found the right home. Finally, to friends and loved ones, particularly KR and KL, for putting up with me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alexis Hall is a pile of threadbare hats and used teacups given a semblance of life by forbidden sorcery. He has a degree in very hard sums from a university that should, by all rights, be fictional.
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