Rhea went down, screeching and clawing at the air for the sword, which clanked heavily on the ground. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. "See how glad he is!" His irony and displeasure subsided. Vorsack rose from the table and departed for the bathroom, mumbling something about a Tylenol. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. Brutes! They are the brute still with us! Science some day may teach us a way to do without them. Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. The Ragged Edge. Supper was over. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead.
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