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Han stared at his hairy partner for a long moment. “Hey, Chewie,” he said, finally, “you know as well as I do that what they’re calling ‘magic’ in Xaverri’s act ain’t nothin’ but a bunch of simple tricks and nonsense, right?”

Chewbacca hrrrrnnnned, but he didn’t sound too positive about it.

Han reached up and ruffled the hair on the top of the Wookiee’s head. Dewlanna had often caressed him in just that way. It was the Wookiee equivalent of a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Believe me, Chewie,” he continued, “these stage magicians don’t actually do real magic. Not the kind in Wookiee legends. What this Xaverri does is all sleight of hand, like what I can do with card-chips. Either that or it’s done with holo-projections or mirrors or something like that. No real magic. Nothing supernatural.”

Chewie whined, but he was beginning to look reassured. “I’ll bet you that if you come with me tonight, I can spot how this Xaverri does all of her tricks,” Han said. “How ’bout it, pal, is it a deal?”

The Wookiee wanted to know what Han was willing to bet. The Corellian thought for a moment. “I’ll fix breakfast and clean up for a month if I can’t figure out how she does ’em,” he promised. “And if I do manage to do it, you pay me back for your own ticket, how’s that?”

Chewbacca decided that was fair.

The two smugglers got to the performance early enough to get seats close to the stage. They waited restlessly until there came a blare of fanfare, and the holo-curtain vanished, to reveal the stage and its sole occupant.

Xaverri proved to be a voluptuous, attractive woman several years older than Han. She had long, heavy black hair that she wore in an elaborate coiffure. Her eyes flashed silver from the iris-enhancers she wore. The magician wore a costume of violet silk, slashed in strategic places to permit occasional tantalizing glimpses of the golden skin beneath it.

She was an exciting, exotic-looking woman. Han wondered what planet she came from. He’d never seen anyone who looked like her before.

After she was introduced, she went straight into her act. With a minimum of stage patter, she performed increasingly difficult tricks. Both Han and Chewbacca were captivated as they watched her illusions. Several times Han thought he might be able to guess how a trick had been engineered, but he was never able to spot any flaws in her routine. He knew he’d lost his bet with Chewie.

Xaverri performed all the traditional illusions—and then improved on them. She lasered a volunteer from the audience in half, then lasered herself in two. She “teleported” not only herself but a small flock of Rodian batwings from one glassine cage to another one across the stage—all in one burst of smoke and flame. Her illusions were stylish and imaginative—and so well done it appeared she really possessed supernatural powers.

When she seemingly released a flock of Kayven whistlers to attack the audience, even Han flinched, and Chewie had to be restrained from trying to attack the illusionary beasts, so real did they appear.

For the grand finale of her act, Xaverri made the entire wall of the hotel ballroom disappear, replaced with a star-flecked blackness of space. As the audience oohed and ahhhed, suddenly the emptiness of space was filled with a terrifying vision of a rogue dwarf star rushing headlong at them. Even Han couldn’t stop himself from crying out and ducking as the enormous illusion dominated the room; Chewie howled in terror and nearly crawled under his seat. It was all Han could do to drag him back upright when the illusion abruptly vanished, and there, replacing it, was a huge image of Xaverri, bowing and smiling.

Han clapped until his hands were sore, yelling and whistling. What a show!

After all the applause had died away, Han made sure that he found his way backstage. He wanted to meet the lovely illusionist, wanted to tell her that she was extraordinarily talented.

Xaverri was the first woman he’d found himself really