In fact, all of nature is magic. Magic, like turning a plain piece of wood into a beautiful art object. You understand that kind of magic, don’t you...”“That’s just a craft, or an art,” Wayne argued half-heartedly. He knew how he felt about making things. She was right. It was like magic.“Magic, too, is just a craft or an art. Do you know what night tonight is?”“It must still be Saturday. Or Sunday morning.”“It’s Litha.”“Beware Litha,” he whispered, remembering a warning that he had interpreted. And whatelse?"She continued looking at the picture, her big sexy eyesopening wide as she discerned the moral.A punishment was taking place. The women were being tied intheir turns to a wooden frame and individually beaten acrosstheir private parts. Five of them were fully dressed,complete with habit, wimple and veil. Five of them werewaiting in line in various stages of undress, one hadalready suffered the indignity and was crouched on theground, crying, bent forward, one hand clutching. More

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