She saw the bouquet and bore down on it, shears raised. On its face, as clear as anyone had ever seen it, was the Peddler, he who came out of Nones with his sackful of squealing souls. about the whole show, really. She felt she could talk to him all night—about the thinny, or Citgo, or her irritating aunt, or just about anything—and the idea dismayed her.
She looked behind her, saw that she had come nearly a mile, and brought him down further—to a canter, a trot, a fast walk. Close enough to swap sugar for salt . Go there on the fastest horse you can swing a leg over. Coral looked at it with dismay.
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