“He'd already put a shirt on each leg and had stacked every shoe I owned into a precarious pyramid. The room looked like a small, overly curious tornado had torn it apart."You have got to be kidding me," I said. "Maybe I should give you to Shamus.”

“When he'd been small, people had said things like, "And what do you want to be, little man?" and he'd said, "I don’t know. What have you got?”

“I had said too much. He was giving me the look. I hated the look. It was the “You’ve had it tough, huh, kid?” look. It made me feel pathetic.”

“I have a good eye," said Benjamin. "Most of the time I can look at a person and see their whole life. Small things give them away. That farmer, for instance. I could tell by the way he tied his shoes that he'd never traveled more than twenty miles from his home, and it was unlikely that he'd follow us for long. And that Father John of yours. I knew he had something hidden in that sleeve. And I knew he'd use it on you. The only thing I didn't know was if you deserved it.”

“I was all put back together, but had never felt more torn apart.”

“I was doing the new Summer Lady a favor, running down a roguestorm sylph. Got to go all over the place in those tornado-chasergeekmobiles. You should have seen the look on the driver's face when herealized that the tornado was chasing us.”