“I prefer to ride alone. You’d slow me down.” She glanced around the stable for any sign of listening ears. “I thought this might be a good place to have a little talk, Chris. I can’t have you popping in and out of my bedroom ever again. Are we clear on that?”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night—about those two scrapbooks and what they contain—about what would happen if people found out.”

“And?”

“You said that the old woman is the town gossip, and that I should think about that. What did you mean?”

“Just food for thought.”

“Don’t get coy on me, Chris. What did you mean?”

He looked at her. “I think you know what I meant.”

“What I want to know is, what are you willing to do about it?”

He paused. “What do you want me to do?”

“Not a thing. That old woman is my biological mother, Chris— believe it or not, that means something to me. Besides, I don’t think she’s a problem. After all, she’s kept this secret for over forty years; if she wanted to tell someone she would have done it a long time ago. She wants to see her little girl make it to the White House; I think she wants it even more than I do. She’s no problem; the secret’s safe with her.”

“Then why did you bring it up?”

“Because—I want to know how far you’re willing to go.” She turned to the wall and lifted an English saddle from a rack.

Riddick reached out to take it from her.

“Don’t.” She hoisted it onto the mare’s back and folded down the saddle flaps. “You said something else I’ve been thinking about—you said you weren’t asking much. You’re wrong about that, Chris—you’re asking for everything.”

“No more than I’m entitled to.”

“You’re not ‘entitled’ to anything—you get what you earn around here. That’s the way it works in the big leagues, and that’s what you’re really asking for: You want to play with the big boys now—isn’t that right?”

“I guess you could put it that way.”

“Good. There’s a woman who lives in the mountains above Endor. She lives all by herself in the woods. The people there think she’s a witch. That’s what they call her: the Witch of Endor.”

“Nice little hometown you’ve got there.”

“People get some crazy ideas in their heads, don’t they? Take you, for example: You think you’ve got a free ticket to Washington just because you know something that I don’t want revealed. Sorry, Chris, it’s not that easy. You can have Washington—we can work something out—but you’ll have to earn it.”

“How?”