Only the author’s name and half of the title were visible, but Sam knew the book, anyway. It was R. Norman Carter’s Queen of Sorceries. The original spine of the cover was gone, replaced by a strip of plastiboard taped down to protect the binding. Sam remembered his father standing behind his shoulder monitoring him as he carefully lettered the name of the book onto that now-scuffed piece of board. He could hear Janice crying in the other room and the soft, comforting tones of his mother as she tried to soothe her frantic daughter. Sam had still been mad and unrepentant about teasing his sister about her fondness for the story. His father had said it had been cruel to tease Janice, but Sam hadn’t understood at the time. He had thought that his father would approve of his attitude. After all, the book glorified magic. Sam had thought he was rescuing Janice from the perils of magic.