The Good, the Bad, and the Uncanny

EPILOGUE

When I finally got home, Suzie was in the kitchen, scrubbing blood and gristle off one of her gutting knives. She was supposed to be bringing them in alive these days, but old habits die hard. I came up behind her and gave her a hug, and she leaned comfortably back against me.

“I may have a new job,” I said. “Though with any luck, I’ll fail the interview. How was your day?”

“The usual,” said Suzie. “I’m out of shotgun shells again. Oh, and there’s some post for you. I put it in the living room.”

I went through into the next room—and there on the table was a long sword-shaped parcel.