I thought Clancy would go out of his mind. “It don’t rain indoors, you punk!” he stormed.
“I’ll tear that badge off your coat if you don’t do what I tell you!”
Myra flicked her fingers in his direction and almost immediately he stiffened. “Gawd!” he said looking up at the ceiling. “It is raining!”
“Didn’t I tell you,” the Irish cop said feverishly. “I think I’ll get out of here.”
This intrigued me. Over each patrolman and Clancy I could see a light sprinkle of water falling. It didn’t come from the ceiling but seemed to start a few feet above them.
As they moved uneasily the shower of water followed them. It was the damnedest thing I’d ever seen.
“Are you doing this?” I whispered to Myra.
“Certainly,” she said. “Didn’t you know I could make rain? It’s an old Naguale custom.” She suddenly spied the red-head who was sitting up in a dazed kind of way. “And a little rain might improve that young woman’s complexion,” she went on grimly.
She flicked her fingers in the red-head’s direction.
There was no question of a sprinkle of water this time. It began to rain in torrents. The redhead screamed wildly and getting to her feet, she dashed round the room. The narrow ribbon of pouring water followed her ruthlessly. In a few seconds she was soaked to the skin.