Dappled sunlight and looked at the silver vapor swirling inside. "Mist gathered at first light on the first day of the new moon on the Isle of Avalon," he said. "Yep. Good for one hour of great talent," said Annie. Jack smiled, remembering their hour as horse trainers and their hour as stage magicians. "I wonder what we'll be great at this time," he said. "Maybe great nurses?" said Annie. "We'll see," said Jack. He put the tiny bottle in his backpack; then he picked up the piece of paper from the floor. On the paper he had written the two secrets of greatness they'd

remember a feeling of excitement, of sudden inspiration, when I was visiting Giovanni Boccaccio's home in the walled village of Certaldo, outside of Florence. (Boccaccio was the medieval author of The Decameron.) It was as though I had met my muse! After this trip, I read The Decameron and began writing the Alchemy Series in earnest.

Then everything was still. Absolutely still.

I think it might be nice if there was a Cosimo de' Medici around today, offering commissions to the poor, but talented artists.

After my husband died more than a decade ago, my mother prayed that I would remarry so that I could have a "normal" life again. Many people assumed that it would be too difficult for me to carry on as a single mother and raise a child without a man at my side. As the years went by, I found that it was indeed possible and that, in fact, I had no desire to remarry.

I love teaching. It's a job that lasts forever. Whatever you teach children today travels with them far into the future.

I have to keep facing the darkness. If I stand tall and face the thing I fear, I have a chance to conquer it. If I just keep dodging and hiding it will conquer me.