Maggie Get Your Gun Read Online Free PDF

over at Killian and he gave me a shrug.  Sitting up here on my high
horse after the grunt work was already done wasn’t going to pay the rent, and I
sure as hell wasn’t chalking this one up to experience.  I stacked up the blood
money and put it in my drawer.
    “The comb, please,” Mr. Smith asked, holding out his hand.
    I went over to our wall safe and spun the dials.  I pulled
out the comb and slid it across my desk to Mr. Smith.
    He opened up the bag and poured it out into his hand,
nodding, “It is quite powerful, isn’t it...”
    "Why doesn't it zap you?" I asked, a little
disappointed he wasn't lighting up like a vampire bat in an electrical
transformer.
    "I read that this particular comb is powered by the
bearer's life force.  Channels it into the dead to animate them and such.  I'm
quite old, so I could never wield it."
    "So what you are saying is the more life force you
have, the stronger the reaction from the comb?" asked Killian, making sure
to look at me as he rubbed where it had burned him good.  "One might even
say that if the comb gave one a stronger burn, it is because the comb has
a stronger affinity... it, one might say, likes that person better than
someone who only received a slight shock?"
    "I suppose so..." said Mr. Smith, a little
puzzled by Killian's questioning.
    "I don't think that's what he's saying at all,
Killian," I said, cutting Mr. Smith off.
    "I believe that is exactly what he is saying,
Maggie."
    "I think what Mr. Smith is trying to tell us, before
you so rudely interrupted him, Killian, is the history of the comb..."
    "...and how it is able to magically measure a person's
life force, their virility, as it were,  which it appears I have in excess..."
    "I would be more than happy to surgically remove some
of that virility, elf."
    Killian held up his hands, "Just clarifying the power
of the comb.  Please, Mr. Smith, continue."
    The old man coughed.
    "Please, continue," I said, dragging the daggers
I was shooting at Killian back into my eyes.
    “Well," Mr. Smith said, shifting in his chair, "it
was created for the Empress of China by a powerful sorcerer who based his magic
in the Egyptian arts, hence the scarab symbol you can see here.”
    Killian and I leaned forward as Mr. Smith pointed to the
carvings.
    “Each line is part of an intricate magical system made for
bringing the dead back to life.  I believe they act as channels, allowing the
energy of the host to flow through them and into the body of the one who has
passed.  The thing about highly complex magic, though,” continued Mr. Smith, “is
that it is quite delicate.  The form must be preserved.  Why, if I were to do
something like this…”
    He dropped it on the ground, he raised his foot, and
crushed it. 
    “I would render it quite useless.”
    He picked up the mangled bits and dropped them back into
the envelope.
    “Your lady friend is gonna be pissed,” I said, slack jawed. 
It takes some balls to go around busting up magical objects.  Unless you know exactly
what you’re doing, the objects oftentimes bite back.
    He gave me a slight smile, “I believe she will be quite
pleased.”
    I shook my head, “Awful lot of work for some mangled
metal.  Why?”
    “I’m afraid if I told you, you would be in quite over your
head.”
    “Listen, I just torched half the heroes of Calico Ghost
Town.  I think I’m already quite ‘in’.”
    “I was there, too,” said Killian as he raised his hand.
    Mr. Smith leaned forward and whispered conspiringly, “I am
trying to delay the destruction of Earth by gathering up and destroying any magical
object that evil might choose to yield.”
    “Well, shoot,” I said.  “All you had to do is say so.  I’m
okay with that sort of life goal.”
    Killian nodded, “She is.  She has saved the world several
times.”
    "Really?" Mr. Smith rubbed his white beard,
“Would you like another dip into the ocean?”
    “Um…”
    “The pay is quite generous and this,” said