"Go?" Remo said, dumbfounded. "We can't go."
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"Oh, you will leave," Esther said with infuriating certainty.
Remo ignored her. "Now is not the time to give our notice, Chiun. She knows too much. She can blow the whole shooting match. We can't leave her."
Remo strained until beads of perspiration and frustration formed on his forehead, but he failed to move a single millimeter.
"We cannot help by destroying this one," Chiun said, sniffing the air once more. "She is a mere agent of her master."
Esther got back to her feet and strolled over to Remo, standing nose-to-nose with him. The noxious rotten-egg smell clung to her billowy garments.
"Listen to your father," Esther breathed. "The House of Sinanju has reached the end of its cycle in this millennium. It is time for one more powerful than the mortals of your pitiful village to rule the earth. Be frightened, Sinanju, for your every thought, your every action, your every reaction, is known. Your years of glory are near an end." She smiled gleefully. "East has met West, the prophecy is fulfilled."
Her smile rapidly changed to a look of horror as Esther found herself suddenly airborne and sailing backward into her living room.
She slammed full force into the wall over the couch. Her head snapped back, cracking soundly into a wide, gleaming window frame. She crashed painfully to the floor, upending cushions from the couch. Her nose gushed a fountain of bright, sticky blood.
In that flash of time Remo saw the blurry hand of
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the Master of Sinanju—kimono sleeve flapping—as it settled back to Chiun's side.
"Know you this, agent of evil," Chiun intoned. "Sinanju will never be sport for your master's underlings. We acknowledge his presence in the world at this time and will lie in wait for the day when he once again walks among the gods. Until that hour, Sinanju yields."
With that, Chiun whirled the protesting Remo around like a mannequin and propelled him hastily from Ranch Ragnarok.
Once they were gone, Esther pulled herself painfully to her feet. She ripped a handful of tissues from an end-table dispenser and tried to soak up the ceaseless How of blood that ran from her rapidly swelling nose.
When she heard the footsteps coming down the hallway, she didn't even bother to look up. She knew that sleady, confident tread.
"Aren't you worried they'll come back?" Esther honked.
"They are gone for now," Kaspar said. He eyed her appraisingly. "You performed well."
"Thanks," Esther said snidely. "That's the last lime I take a crash course in your gobbledygook. I think that old fart broke my nose."
"The Master of Sinanju is a formidable opponent," Kaspar agreed. He sat in one of Esther's garish Louis Oiiainrxc chairs.
"What is a Master of Sinanju?" Esther asked.
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"And what was all that assassin crap you made me parrot for them?"
"It does not matter now," Kaspar said thinly.
"Bull—"
Kaspar shot her a controlling glance.
Esther let the matter drop. She tested her bloody nose with a clean tissue. The crimson flow had slowed.
Kaspar paused briefly, watching as Esther heaved the scattered cushions back on the sofa.
"The latest oracles appear to have drained the current mortal vessel."
Esther glared up at him through tearing, blurry eyes. "Don't even think it," she snarled.
"The appearance of the Sinanju masters was disturbing to Apollo's emissary. He vented his agitation through the Pythia."
"I am not doing a kidnapping a day for you, Kaspar!" Esther railed. "No matter how good the money is." Esther gathered up her bloody tissues in a damp wad and fell back onto the couch. ' 'Tell him to count to ten before he vents next time." She massaged her temples gently with pale, tapering fingertips.
"It might not be immediately necessary," Kaspar said, knowing full well that the latest vessel would not last the week. He brushed the crease of his dress pants casually. "The Pythia has indicated that there might be a new investment opportunity for you," he added slyly.
Esther considered his words. She dropped the gory wad on the end table. At last she spoke. "I make no promises," she said dully.
Kaspar smiled. For her the money was everything.
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She would gather more vessels for his master. The Pythia had foreseen it.
To Esther, he said, "You have done well so far. Our master is pleased."
"He ought to be." She pinched her nose gingerly and winced at the pain. "I've got to get some ice on this," she said morosely. Then she got up and headed for the kitchen.
"I have to go away on business in a few days," Kaspar called after her. "Will you be able to handle things in my absence?"
Esther came out holding a dish towel clinking with ice cubes to the injured bridge of her nose. "I was handling church affairs long before you showed up, Kaspar," she snapped.
"Of course," he demurred. "It was not my intention to insult. It is just that, in dealing with our master, there are matters with which you might not be wholly familiar."
"Wholly familiar, please," she mocked. "I've seen you do it a hundred times," she said. "Kill a goat, hatch a prophecy. How hard can it be?"
"How hard, indeed?" Kaspar smiled an infuriating, tight-lipped smile. He stood to go. ' 'If we have guests, you will escort them to me?" he said unnecessarily.
"With bells on," Esther muttered. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to blot out the image of the annoying little Greek.
"In that case, good night." He headed for the door.
"Good night," Esther murmured.
After he had gone, she fumbled the makeshift ice bag back onto her nose, wincing at a flash of new pain.