Klepto, Present

I hate magic.

I hate sorcerers and wishes and all that crap. Anyone who’d grant you a wish is out to screw you. The only honest magician who ever lived was Seesaw, and she’s dead now. Girls in her business expire fast.

My golden-haired boys' curse was real after all. Both died the day before they turned thirteen. Perfect sons, limited warranty.

Stealing’s all I was ever good for, so I'm still doing it. Mobsters bring too much publicity—I work for magicians only now. They keep me hidden, I keep them rich.

Still afraid to die. Still a screwup.