[A young man in a pastel blue cable knit sweater and khaki capris is pacing in the lounge just off the kitchen. With every few shaky steps, he rubs his chin or pats his chest or just shakes his head.

Could any of the spirits or shades change their sex at will? She can't recall. In any case, she can feel Nemhain out there somewhere. The pact has not been broken. Her eyes flash to the half full glass of purple liquid on the counter. It must be the culprit for this strange turn of events. Umeka stumbles towards the counter, not used at all to this altered gait.]

It stands to reason that if one drink of you will turn a girl into a boy, a second drink will turn a boy into a girl. [She's holding herself together remarkably well until-] Is that my voice?