“Io watched him come striding up the street, his black duster flowing open like a cape, and the spurs of his black boots jingling musically. Not that the sound called up the same merry thoughts as sleigh bells. It was more the sound of Death moving toward a shootout at a saloon. And how the night loved him as he stalked along under it: his eyes, his hair, his very flesh! He didn’t smile when he saw her, but she was coming to know him and recognized that there was satisfaction in his gaze when he... looked down at her. “So, guess what spell I drew?” she greeted him. Jack sniffed the air. “Something violent.” Io lowered her voice. “Yep. It started out as a stupid spell to open cans with my finger. But I’ve been working on it and now I can stuff my right fist through concrete. Or wood, or metal. It probably works pretty well on goblins, too, but I haven’t tried it yet.” Jack finally smiled. His teeth were very white and strong. “I guess we’re ready then.” “As ready as we can be.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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