Reaching into the furnace, Margery grabbed a hot coal between her
fingers. She shrieked and sobbed, but held on bravely, insanely, for a
good ten seconds before dropping it back in the belly of the fire. Her
whole hand was red and blistered, and her fingertips were scalded raw,
straight through her skin to the meat. Then she did it again with her
left hand. This time even Blade could not bear to watch and turned
away, trying to contain his rising gorge and wiping at his own tears.
"So much for the fingerprint problem," she said, her voice still husky
with pain. "Who has the balls to go next?"
We stared at one another numbly and wondered just how much money really
meant to us, after all.
