had read at least three books in her life

When asked for his opinion of any book, the Face elicited the visitor’s judgment first, then agreed with it in such a charming fashion that he seemed both erudite and every bit a kindred spirit. As Ethan slid Lord Jim onto a shelf between two other Conrad titles, a small reedy voice behind him said, “Is there magic in it?” [19] Turning, he discovered ten-year-old Aelfric Manheim all but swallowed alive by one of the larger armchairs. According to Laura Moonves, Aelfric (pronounced elf-rick) was an Old English word meaning “elf-ruled” or “ruled by elves,” which had first been used to describe wise and clever actions, but had in time come to refer to those who acted wisely and cleverly. Aelfric. The boy’s mother—Fredericka “Freddie” Nielander—a supermodel who had married and divorced the Face all in one year, had read at least three books in her life. The Lord of the Rings trilogy. In fact she had read them repeatedly. She had been prepared to name the boy Frodo. Fortunately, or not, one month before Freddie’s due date, her best girlfriend, an actress, had discovered the name Aelfric in the script for a cheesy fantasy film in which she had agreed to play a three-breasted Amazon alchemist. If Freddie’s friend had landed a supporting role in The Silence of the Lambs, Aelfric would probably now be Hannibal Manheim. The boy preferred to be called Fric, and no one but his mother insisted on using his full name. Fortunately, or not, she wasn’t around much to torture him with it. Reliable scuttlebutt had it that Freddie had not seen Fric in over seventeen months. Even the career of an aging supermodel could be demanding. “Is there magic in what?” Ethan asked. “That book you just put away.” “Magic of a sort, but probably not the kind of magic you mean.” “This one has a shitload of magic in it,” Fric said, displaying a paperback with dragons and wizards on the cover. “Is that advisable language for a wise and clever person?” Ethan asked.