Bast illusions

Bast was hurrying over, pushing her way through the crowd. I’d never been happier to see an Egyptian god in my life.

Somehow she’d managed to change clothes. She wore a rose-colored pantsuit, lots of gold jewelry, and a cashmere coat, so she looked like a wealthy businesswoman.

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“Oh! We have the paperwork.” To my amazement, she pulled out an envelope and handed it to the cop, along with our tickets.

“I see,” the cop said. He looked our tickets over. “You bought...a first class ticket for your falcon.”

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“How did you change clothes?” I asked. “And the document for the bird...”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, mortal minds are weak. That ‘document’ is an empty ticket sleeve. And my clothes haven’t really changed. It’s just a glamour.”