When Malcolm squeezed her gloved hand, Margo felt as though she were flying.
By the time the scheduled re-opening of the Britannia Gate forced them to leave London, Margo knew she’d found what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. I’ve done it, I’ve gone through a whole week down time, and I’ve come out just fine. She had a lot to learn yet, of course she’d endured humiliation and learned valuable lessons but now that she’d done it, she knew this was exactly what she’d wanted all along.
You’ll see, she promised an unshaven face in her memory, you’ll see, damn you. I’ll do it. This was harder than. anything you ever did to me, but I did it. And if you do it again.. Just you wait. I’ll prove it to you.
Margo had found where she belonged. All that remained now was to convince Kit Carson. And Malcolm Moore. Margo cast a last, longing glance at the gaslit windows of the Time Tours gatehouse, then stepped boldly through onto the grated platform in La La Land. It felt like she’d come home at last.
* * *
CHAPTER ELEVEN
”There are,” Sven Bailey told her patiently, “three basic grips in knife fighting.” He demonstrated. “The hammer grip is the way most people pick up a knife, even kitchen carving and paring knives. Its a good, solid
Margo practiced on the slim knife he handed her.
”Then comes the fencing grip.” He shifted the knife in his hand as though he were holding an envelope out to someone else. His thumb rested on the top of the grip. “This is a deadly grip in the hands of a trained knife fighter, very difficult to defend against. Learn to use it.”