Magic gives you a lot of choices," Grandad says. "Most of them are bad.

Ah coffee. The sweet balm by which we shall accomplish today's tasks.

One night you will ask me for something I cannot give.

It’s hard to look at Barron now, but I do. He’s smirking. His black hair and black suit make him into a shadow, as if I conjured some dark mirror of myself.

I haven't had a very good day. I think I might still be hung over and everyone's dead and my root beer's gone.

It's okay," he informs me. "Your grandfather is teaching me how to play poker." If I know Grandad, that means what he'll really be teaching Sam is how to cheat.

For me the curse is a crutch, but the con is everything.