A year of being hunted, of freeing slaves, of skulking in taverns had denied me one of my passions. Only when illusions were needed, did I paint at al....And those were practical images. No imagination. No letting my muse speak to me.“Wow!” Zanyia gasped behind me.I threw a look over my shoulder. She and Nathalie flew on either side of Ealaín, the aoi si resplendent in her armor, her ebony face highlighted by the crimson moon shining down on us, her silver pauldrons reflecting glittering stars.. He smiled as I briefly looked at him. The rest of the gallery was filled with news reporters, cameras, and more than one or two casino owners with their attorneys.I turned and saw the court reporter taking her seat along with the court clerk, and finally rested my gaze on the bailiff.He was a mousy little man, wearing a gray tweed suit that had been worn once too often, frayed in the back, worn thin at the elbows. He might have once been 5 foot tall, but with age I doubt that he made 4'-11'',. More

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