I'm not about to whine about fate screwing me over yet again. 
First my blood is useless to help anyone destroy anything, and second,
Lilith can't trust me to become a jewel-person.  That's OK, though.  I
could be dead.  Anyway, Lilith is the queen now, or something like that. 
If that doesn't just bite, I don't know what does.  She'll probably forget
all about me.  But that's also OK, because she could toss me into the
dungeon for shooting her in the shoulder.  I'll just duck out of sight
before she remembers that.

	The cool thing is, I can grow feathers on my hands.  Colin doesn't
think that's very impressive, but when I can turn into a bird and fly away
and go *splat* and crap onto his head, then I bet he'll be more impressed. 
So there, Colin.  Beat that.  Even if Suhuy does like you best.  And
Lilith, too.  And probably everyone in the universe.  Except Brand, who is
dead.  (We weren't supposed to kill him, were we?  Shouldn't we have just
put him in chains or something -- and then waited for the authorities?  Of
course, Oberon's the only real authority, and he's kind of not around. 
Shoot.  I should go find him, and then Lilith won't be the queen anymore.)

	Oh, well.  Life just isn't working out very well.  I need an edge,
an angle, and I haven't got one.  That's the price you pay for being only
fifteen and two-thirds.