"You okay?" G-Dogg asked, leaning in toward her. Kellan warded him off with an outstretched arm.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm all right," she said. "Just got a headache."

"Actually, what you have is a modestly effective spell defense," Lothan said.

"What?" Kellan asked. The troll mage looked extremely satisfied with himself, which Kellan began to suspect was his normal state of being.

"Spell defense," he reiterated. "The image I asked you to focus on is a basic exercise for reinforcing the aura and protecting against hostile spells. While you concentrated on it, I cast a simple stun spell at you and-"

"You what?" Kellan said, jumping to her feet.

"A stun spell," Lothan said, waving Kellan to sit back down. "Nothing permanently harmful. Indeed, all it should have done is put you painlessly to sleep."

"If that's your idea of painless, chummer, then-"

"If you'll allow me to explain:." the troll mage said sternly, and Kellan stopped in midsentence. She closed her mouth and sat down with deliberate slowness.

"That's better," Lothan breathed. "Now then, as I was saying. My stun spell should have put you painlessly to sleep. Any mundane would have been out like a light. You, however, are no mundane, my dear." When Kellan just gaped at him, he continued. "You have some magical talent, albeit somewhat limited, and quite untrained. You're a magician."

"A: but how?" Kellan stammered. "I mean, if I was, wouldn't I know it by now?"

"Not necessarily. For some, the Talent emerges later in life. It may lie dormant until something activates it: stress, powerful emotion, even contact with other magic-something like that amulet of yours, for example."

"What about it?" Kellan said.

"It is most definitely enchanted," Lothan replied, furrowing his brow and stroking his chin, "although I have to admit that the exact nature of its enchantment eludes me. I've never seen anything exactly like it. Where did you get it?"

"It used to belong to my mother," Kellan said, "but I don't know where she got it. I-I don't know much about her, actually. I was hoping to find out more here in Seattle."

"Your mother, you say," Lothan replied. "Hmmm. Well, I certainly haven't seen the likes of this before. Perhaps it will yield some clues about her."

"Do you think?" Kellan asked.

"I make no promise, but it's possible."

"Well, you've got great news, kid," G-Dogg said, patting Kellan on the back. "You're a spell-slinger! You shouldn't have any trouble getting biz."

"She's not a trained magician, G-Dogg," Lothan interjected. "Just a raw talent with little else to back it up. She needs training. In fact:" Both Kellan and G-Dogg looked at the troll mage as he rolled his eyes in thought. Then he looked at Kellan.

"You intrigue me, my dear," he said. "I haven't seen a newly Awakened talent around here in quite some time-not one that wasn't already influenced by some pirate street grimoire or, worse yet, some corporate thaumaturgy program. Too many bad habits for them to break, but you, you're the proverbial tabula rasa, a blank slate. Plus, there's that intriguing amulet of yours." He wagged a finger in Kellan's direction, touching it to his lips briefly as he collected his thoughts.

"I'll tell you what," he said. "I would be willing to take you on as my apprentice, to train you in the arcane arts, teach you to harness and mold the potential that you have discovered, in exchange for certain considerations from you."

"What kind of 'considerations'?" Kellan asked cautiously.

"A percentage of your take, of course," Lothan said. "You would be working for me, in effect. If you're interested in shadow work, that is."

Kellan resisted the urge to glance over at G-Dogg, to see what he thought of Lothan's offer. That was something an uncertain newbie would do, not a seasoned shadowrunner. If she wanted to make it in the Seattle shadows, she needed to start handling things like this on her own, making her own deals. She deliberately paused for a moment to think it over, not taking her eyes off of Lothan, doing her best to size up the old troll and his intentions. Lothan's face was as unreadable as craggy stone, but really, he did seem to know his stuff, and G-Dogg said so, too, so what did she have to lose?

"Deal," Kellan said, extending a hand. Lothan grasped it in his own massive paw and shook it firmly.

"Well, then," he said, "you can get started right away. I actually have a business meeting to attend this evening. G-Dogg, I'd like you to come along too, since this job might be something of interest to you. If all goes well, there are a few people I'd like you to call." The ork nodded in acknowledgment and Lo-than slapped his knees as he levered himself up out of his chair and reached for a carved wooden staff resting against the nearest bookcase.

"Let's do business, shall we?" he said.

The place Lothan took them to was called Ebey's Bar. Lothan said that it was a pun when it came to doing business, but Kellan didn't get the joke. It sure as drek didn't look to her like the kind of place where shadowrunners cut deals. It was nothing compared to the glamour and glitz of Underworld 93 or some of the metroplex's other nightspots. It was just a run-down little hole-in-the-wall in Everett, wedged between two taller buildings. The inside was dim and smoky, decorated in dark-stained wood that created pools of shadow around the booths and small tables. The dull yellow lights over the bar barely succeeded in a feeble attempt at illuminating it.

Ebey's boasted a smattering of patrons at the tables and booths, no more than a dozen or so all told. At first glance, Kellan thought that the man behind the bar was an ork. He was certainly tall and broad enough, and ugly enough, but he lacked the tusks and pointed ears. His shaved head shone in the lights as he poured foaming beer expertly into mugs and slid them across the bar to a couple of guys wearing synthdenim and street leathers. The bartender glanced up as Lothan, Kellan and G-Dogg entered the bar. He exchanged an almost imperceptible nod with Lothan, then glanced toward the back of the establishment.

"This way," Lothan said quietly, taking the lead. The big troll made his way around the bar and between some of the tables toward the back, where two men waited at a table. Kellan noted there was no one else sitting near them, and the men sat where they had their backs toward the wall and a clear view of the front and rear entrances of the bar.

Kellan gave the two a quick once-over. The first man was clearly the one they'd come to see. He was younger than Kellan expected, although age was always difficult to tell with cosmetic surgery, magic and gene-cleansing therapy available to people with the money to pay for it. He was human, his dark hair cut in a fairly severe, almost military style, wearing a nondescript pair of black jeans and a burgundy sweater that was bulky enough to conceal ballistic padding, maybe a weapon or two. He also wore black leather gloves, meaning that he was probably a SINner, someone with a System Identification Number. His fingerprints, genetic map and other data were on the Matrix in some government computer somewhere. That meant he had to be especially careful not to leave traces behind. Shadowrunners like Kellan and G-Dogg didn't have SINs-at least not the kind you got from a government computer. They were blanks, ghosts in the machine, which was why SINners hired them in the first place. Shadowrunners who knew their business were careful to stay out of the databases of the governments and the corporations, since it was their anonymity-and deniability-that made them so useful.

Kellan wondered for a moment if the man was with the military. He certainly looked the part, and it wouldn't be the first time that the UCAS military (or those of other nations) had dealt with shadowrunners. He looked the three of them over with an appraising eye, but showed no signs that he was nervous, concerned or anything other than in complete control of the situation. Some of that confidence might have stemmed from the presence of the person sitting next to him.