The Company wastes no love on this man.

Maybe I like him better unconscious than conscious, though we never butted heads personally. I have heard so many horror stories about his cowardice that I cannot say much in his favor at all. Well, he was a modestly effective fire marshal when he was awake. Fire is an enemy Taglios knows far more intimately than any remote Shadowmaster.

If he had not been such a chickenshit and gone over to Longshadow he would not be in the sad shape he is now.

For reasons unclear even to One-Eye, Smoke's comatose spirit is anchored to his flesh very loosely. Making a connection with his ka, which is what they might call it around here, is easy. It takes instructions well. I can connect with him, detach from my flesh and ride him almost anywhere, to see almost anything. Which is why he is so special to us today. Which is why it is so critical to keep everything about him under wraps.

If we succeed in this dark war, victory will come largely because we can "walk with the ghost."

"I'm ready to go," One-Eye said.

"You come back fast for an old fart."

"You keep running your jaw, Kid, you're never gonna get a chance to find out what it's like to be old enough to deserve respect but not to get none from pups like you."

"Don't go picking on me because Goblin ran out on you."

"Where the hell is that stunted mouse turd, anyway?"

I knew. Or thought I knew. I walk with the ghost. One-Eye did not need to know, though, so I did not clue him in. "Lift the damned litter, limberdick."

"I just know you're going to enjoy life as a polecat, Kid."

We hoisted the litter. Smoke made a gurgling sound. Foamy spit dribbled from the corner of his mouth. "Hustle up. I need to get his mouth cleaned out before he drowns himself."

One-Eye saved his breath. We clumped down the stairs. Smoke began making strangling noises. I kicked the door open and went through without looking outside first. We got into the street.