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Page 303
Kyna's hand went to her throat. "Oh my God! You remember, Russ. The guy in Miamithe guy that passed me the necklace."
"The guy in Miami was an Indian?"
"This is not my body," Morales said. "My wife and my child and I have reanimated these vessels to speak with you."
"Oh. What about these others?" Cyrus swept his arm around the circle of the dead.
"What's he saying?" Kyna whispered.
Cyrus cast her an irritated glance. "Listen, Mr. Morales, is there any way you can make Kyna hear you? We're kinda on a tight schedule here."
"We know why you run, and we know who it is you run from. We are all here because of Macumba's disciple."
"There, you lost me again."
"What's he saying?" Kyna said, tugging on Cyrus's arm.
"Ask the woman if we may touch her."
"Okay."
Kyna punched Cyrus's arm. "Dammit! What's he saying?"
"He said, 'Ask the woman if we may touch her.'"
"Touch me?"
"I don't think he meant me."
"The woman, huh?" Kyna said, wincing as she stared at the Indian's rotting face.
"His words, not mine."
The body that Morales had inhabited shuffled forward and placed a hand on Kyna's shoulder. At the touch of those cold, bony fingers, she cringed.
"Kyna Rand!"
Kyna's eyes grew as round as dinner plates.
"You hear him?"
She nodded, but didn't even consider trying to speak.
"Time is precious to us as well," Morales said, "so I will try to hurry. We are here because of one manthe monster that even now haunts your shadows."
"The witch doctor?" Cyrus asked.
"He is much more than a mere backwoods dabbler in the

 
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