Sortilège She came along the alley and up the back steps the way she always used to. Doc hadn't seen her for over a year. Nobody had. Back then it was always sandals, bottom half of a flower-print bikini, faded Country Joe & the Fish t-shirt. Tonight she was all in flatland gear, hair a lot shorter than he remembered, looking just like she swore she'd never look. Sortilège Back when they were together she could go weeks without anything more complicated than a pout. Now she was laying some heavy combination of face ingredients on Doc that he couldn't read at all. Sortilège Doc ran through all the things he hadn't asked Shasta. Like how much she'd come to depend on Wolfmann's guaranteed level of ease and power? And least askable of all, how passionately did she really feel about old Mickey? Doc knew the likely reply, "I love him", what else? With the unspoken footnote that the word these days was being way too overused.