My father stood over me, color appearing in his normally bloodless face, his ivory skin usually melting into his pale-blond locks.“My sweetling,” ...e groaned, seizing my shoulders and pulling me in. “What is it? Is it about last night?”I nodded my head, my cheeks scarlet. I could just tell him it made me feel weird. Explain that he’s my father, that what we did was wrong. Instead, I let him lead me to his desk, covered in papers. He moved around it, sitting down on his chair, motioning me to. Well, not Polish of course. Or Hungarian. Or Welsh and certainly not Irish Gaelic. But you see what I mean. So when I pointed out '34B' on the end of a box, if you could read then you would have no trouble finding another the same. But she couldn't, the figures meant nothing. And another thing. If she was, as she claimed, a Genie, then where the hell was the magic? I wasn't supposed to be buying her clothes, she was supposed to be making me rich, and all she had done so far was provide a sword. More

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