She simply went where Danny was. Ever since her passage to Duat and back, enfolded—or so it seemed to her—in Danny’s inself, she knew at every moment where he was, and could join herself to him, taking her body with her. She found herself in a living room—no, a parlor—with Danny, two boys, and two adults. “Thank you for coming,” said Danny. “When did you invite her?” asked the woman. “And why?” asked the man. “I thought about her, and the fact that I needed her, and she came,” said Danny. “What kind of magery is that?” asked the woman. Instead of answering, Danny made the introductions. But now Pat remembered them from the Great Gate in Maine, when she made her momentary visit to Westil and awoke her latent windmagery. Marion and Leslie Silverman, Danny’s foster parents. And they seemed to know exactly who she was, which was encouraging—it meant that Danny had talked about her. And had said good things, because they were warm in their welcome to her, though Pat also suspected there was a tinge of pity in the way Mrs.
