Ari entered the warehouse and made a beeline for a small grouping of crates against one of the walls. She set down her mandolin case, unfastened the clasps, and began tuning. "Come and sit over here," she suggested, taking her own advice and settling cross-legged on the nearest crate, tucking her skirt around her legs. "I do hope," she cautioned, "that you don't think it will work perfectly this time. But I really do think I won't set you on fire - I know what I did wrong that time, and I fixed it."