Blazing BodiciesWhen the woman who was not a woman burst into our evening, we were just setting up some balls for the breaking.
Shortly after Miss Patel had finished her story of the Emerald Guardians, I and several members of the Wanderers' Club retired to the billiards room. After all the idle chit chat, we felt the need for action. After all, we call ourselves Wanderers, not Gossipers, do we not?
Just as Mr. Asteroth-Phipps was drawing back his stick to break the first rack of balls, the heavy oak door of the billiard room flew open. As the door slammed home against the oak paneling of the wall, the five of us in the room looked toward the noise all at once.
My first impression was of a statuesque woman standing in the doorway, two or three inches taller than six feet. A black ov
