[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Ben sighed, leaned back again, and stretched his legs out comfortably in front of him.  It ll work, he
said.
They were speeding through the countryside north of Woodinville on 522 in a black stretch limousine,
Miles driving, Ben sitting alone in the back seat. Miles wore a chauffeur s cap and coat at least one size
too small, which was unfortunate because the whole scenario would have played better if the driver had
been as immaculately dressed as his passenger. But there hadn t been time to shop for Miles and even
if there had, they probably wouldn t have been able to find a clothing store with chauffeur uniforms for
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
rent or sale in any case so they d had to settle for what the original driver was wearing. Ben looked
considerably better. There d been time to shop for him. He wore a five hundred dollar three-piece dark
blue suit with just a hint of pin striping, a pale blue silk shirt, and a deep mauve silk tie with a scattering of
blues and lavenders woven in. A matching scarf was tucked neatly into his breast pocket. He glanced
surreptitiously at himself in the rearview mirror. Just your average millionaire businessman, he
thought with just a touch of the wheeler-dealer in evidence. Sitting in his stretch limo with his chauffeur
and his fine clothes, he looked every bit the successful entrepreneur.
Which was the way he was supposed to look, of course.
 What if he s seen your picture somewhere? Miles asked suddenly.  What if he recognizes who you
really are?
 Then I m in big trouble, Ben admitted.  But he won t. He s had no reason to track down a picture of
me. Meeks always handled the Landover sales by himself. Michel Ard Rhi was content to collect the
money and let matters take care of themselves. He had his own interests to look after.
 Like running guns and overthrowing foreign governments. Miles shook his head.  This plan is too
risky, Doc.
Ben stared out into the darkness.  True. But it s the only plan we ve got.
He watched the dark shapes of the trees on either side of the highway rush past and disappear like
frozen giants, the land sullen and empty, the night skies overcast and impenetrable. It was always smart to
have a plan, he told himself. Too bad it couldn t always be a good one.
They had left Davis Whitsell knowing that Abernathy was again in the hands of Michel Ard Rhi. It didn t
matter that Whitsell hadn t seen Abernathy s abductors. They were as certain as the trainer that it had
been Michel Ard Rhi who had taken him. Abernathy was imprisoned somewhere in Ard Rhi s castle
fortress, and it was up to them to rescue him quickly. There was no telling what Ard Rhi would do to
the dog now. There was no telling what he would do to that little girl either, once he found her out. He
might even use the little girl as a weapon against the dog. Abernathy still had the medallion; Whitsell had
mentioned seeing it. They had to assume that Ard Rhi knew about the medallion and was trying to get it
back. If not, he would have done away with Abernathy long ago. He couldn t take the medallion by
force, of course, but he could put an awful lot of pressure on the dog to persuade him to part with it
willingly. The little girl would provide just the sort of pressure Ard Rhi would be apt to use.
That being the case, there simply wasn t any time to come up with the sort of elaborate, foolproof plan
they might otherwise have envisioned. Abernathy and the little girl were in immediate danger. Willow was
growing steadily sicker from the environment into which she had willingly placed herself in order not to be
separated from Ben. God only knew what was happening back in Landover with the Darkling still on the
loose and Questor Thews trying to govern. Ben seized hold of the first reasonable plan that came to
mind.
It was going to take an awful lot of luck to make it work.
 Don t forget about Willow, he reminded Miles suddenly.
 I won t. But I don t see how she s going to have any better luck than you. He glanced quickly back
over his shoulder.  There s bound to be lights all over the place, Doc.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Ben nodded. He was worried about that, too. How effective would Willow s magic be when she
needed it? What if it failed her entirely? Under normal circumstances, he wouldn t have thought twice
about it; he knew that, like all the fairy folk, the sylph could move about freely without being seen. But
that was in Landover and that was when she was well. Willow was so weak, so drained by the attack on
her system! She desperately needed the nurturing soil and air of her own world. She needed to make the
transformation. But she couldn t do it here in this world. She had already told him so. Too many of the
chemicals in the soil and air were toxins to her system. She was trapped in her present form until Ben
could find a way to get her back to Landover again.
He tightened the muscles of his jaw. It was pointless to dwell on it. There would be no help for her until
he regained the medallion no help for any of them.
He turned his attention to the plan. It had been a fairly simple matter to have the rented limo and driver
sent north out of Seattle to the little motel in Bothell that they had quickly made their base of operations.
It had been equally simple to bribe the driver to part with the limo and his coat and cap for a few hours
while he waited in the motel room and watched TV. After all, five hundred dollars was a lot of money.
And it hadn t been too tough to track down the clothes Ben needed.
Finding Michel Ard Rhi had been easier yet.  Oh, sure, that nut that lives out in the castle! the manager
of the motel had eagerly volunteered when Ben asked.  Gramma White or some such, it s called. Looks
like something out of King Arthur. Sits back in there behind the winery off 522. Can t even see it from
the road. Guy runs it like a prison. Doesn t allow anyone close. As I said, a nut case! Who else would
live in a castle in the middle of nowhere? Then he had drawn Ben a map.
Finding the nut case was one thing; arranging to see him on short notice and at night was something else.
Ben had made the call. He had spoken with a man whose sole position with Ard Rhi, it appeared, was to
prevent people like Ben from disturbing his boss. Ben had explained that he was only in Seattle that one [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • granada.xlx.pl
  •