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The Dark Man rolled his eyes to the roof. "But, what?" |
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"I am sorry, Master. But why do I not just kill the woman?" |
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The Dark Man felt like screaming. If the woman died at the wrong time and in the wrong way the dark lords would be cheated and he could lose the Butcher's Broom forever. But of course he couldn't tell the moron that. Instead he replied, "Your hold on the body you inhabit will be tenuous at bestyou will certainly be no match for the white man." |
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"But what if she will not accept the box? Can I give it to the man?" |
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"No! No! No! How many times must I tell you? You must place the box in the woman's hands!" |
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The goateed man tensed as he waited for the blow that never came. |
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The Dark Man took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. "Do you have any other asinine questions?" |
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"How . . . how long do I have?" |
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"I can maintain your essence in the host body for forty-eight hours." |
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"You . . . you said you only got a glimpse of where she will be. . . ." |
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"Don't make the mistake of asking me to explain myself!" |
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"Of course not. I only wondered, if I cannot find her and give her the box, what then?" |
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"I will bring you back. But! If you do not pass her the box, you may wish that I had not. Now, prepare yourself!" |
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Kyna and Cyrus departed Banff around three in the afternoon, following the highway north while keeping their eyes peeled for the turnoff to Vancouver. They raced the setting sun all the way and it was well after dark when they arrived at their hotel. Most of the downtown area had already closed for the night and they were forced to settle for cold corned beef sandwiches and warm diet sodas at a murky, woodpaneled pub in the basement of the hotel. Most of the other |
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