“Did I promise you too much?”

“She sighed. “Go on, say it. I shouldn’t have come.”“You shouldn’t have come.” He looked sideways at her and gave her a fleeting grin. “But I’m glad you did.”

“He clasped her fingers, not so she could pull him up but clearly because he wanted to touch them. She wanted it too, way too much, and then he stood there right in front of her, the abyss beside them, and she could smell his skin and his hair, and let go of his hand, even though she secretly wanted something quite different.”

“How are you?”Rosa shrugged her shoulders. “My sister turned into a giant snake last night. And your cousin Tano—”“Second cousin.”“He was there too. He was a tiger. I recognized him from his eyes. Then I fainted.” She looked at him. “How does that sound?”

“Do you still have the revolver you were going to shoot me with?” asked the old man on the telephone.“Yes, I have it here.”“How much ammunition?”“No idea. How do I find out?”He explained. In the moonlight, she felt the bulges of the cartridges in the cylinder. “Six,” she said.“And you don’t know how to use it?”“No.”“But you are American.”“Ha-ha.”“If you do as I say, and go about it cleverly, I hope you won’t need it. Unless Cesare Carnevare crosses your path, in which case please be kind enough to shoot him.”“How about the concordat?”He laughed. “Shoot him when no one’s looking.”

“The Trader held the ring horizontal and let the fingertips of his right hand circle over it. As he did so, he closed his eyes, murmured something to himself, and was silent again. His eyes remained closed; he did not move. "What's he doing?" whispered Walker.Soledad shrugged her shoulders. "Something terribly powerful.""Wrong." replied the Trader. "I'm concentrating on the mosquito bite on my left heel, so it will stop itching.""Oh," Walker said seriously."Mosquito bite?" Soledad repeated."I can't catch ghosts if my foot is itching. I beg you for a little more understanding.""But of course," Walker said spitefully.”

“For the images of the gods are much easier to misuse for human purposes than the gods themselves. Images have no will and no desires. Statues stand for nothing but the goals of the rulers. … The word of a god is, in truth, only the word of the one who erected his statue.”