Bemused, Linka led me away. We slipped from the throne room and into Shangri-La"s dark corridors. Along the winding passages, she swept, me in tow until we reached a door of a certain solidity.
“Are you ready, Jean?” she purred.
“For what?”
“Me.”
The look in her eyes said I had no choice. The force of her grip as she dragged me into the room confirmed it.
“I don"t think those kinds of shenanigans are allowed in a place of worship.”
“Morning, Walter.”
“Is it?” Merryweather flapped his arms at the fog in a vain attempt to clear a view. “I see you"re on your own.”
“Just about see I"m on my own,” I corrected.
“Tee-hee.”
“Linka"s resting.”
“I"m not surprised. Goddamn disgraceful, you should be ashamed!”
“Couldn"t you sleep?” I said, ignoring him.
“I kept hearing ghosts, they kept m
