Long Hot Summoning. Under Summons

“Distracted?”

“Focused.”

Well, that explained the Meryat obsession.“Does the shadow affect…” She waved a hand toward the scales…

…which had stilled with Lance’s heart holding steady a good six inches above the feather.

“Not in the least. I judge this man to bemaa kheru. He is free to go. Anubis.”

Anubis, who’d been licking his fingers, leaped forward, retrieved Lance’s heart, squatted down, and pushed it carefully back into his body.

“Bast…”

Caught between bracing herself and trying to relax, Claire missed Bast’s hand plunging into her chest, but she certainly felt it coming out. Ow! was a bit of an understatement. The cat-headed goddess frowned slightly as she crossed to the scale and Claire began to have a bad feeling about how this was going to turn out.

Of course her heart was heavy. She was a Keeper. She was responsible for the metaphysical protection of a good chunk of southeastern Ontario and upstate New York. And then there was the guest house and Diana, and being away from the segue, and dragging Lance around the Otherworlds, and not even knowing there were Otherworlds until she found herself plunged into the middle of them. Or maybe it. And she’d left Dean alone to face a reanimated mummy. Sure, Austin was with him, but he wasn’t supposed to be, and what had she been thinking dragging a seventeen-year-old cat into an evil shopping mall anyway?

“Well. This is…interesting.” All three gods were staring at the scales. The bowl holding the feather was brushing the floor. The bowl holding her heart was an arm’s length above Osiris’ head.

“Is this happening because I’m a Keeper?” Claire hazarded.

“No. This is happening because this isn’t your heart.”

She glanced down at her chest and up at the bowl.“Pardon?”

“It appears you have given your heart to another. This heart is his.”

Dean stared down into Claire’s face for a long moment before his mouth finally curved into a worried smile. “Got my heart?”

She laid a hand lightly against her chest.“Right here. Got mine.”

He mirrored the motion.“Safe and sound.”

“A most unusual young man.”

He’d lived next to a hole to Hell for six months and it hadn’t even convinced him to drop his underwear on the floor.

“He is, yes.”

The Lord of Death dragged Dean’s heart down to where Bast could reach it. “You realize you’re getting off on a technicality.”

“Yes, I do.” The return was painless. It was a pity Lance was still out; Claire had a feeling things couldn’t get much more metaphorical than this.

HEY! THIS ISN’T FAIR!

Osiris shot an exasperated look toward the shadow.“Death seldom is.”

SHE CHEATED!

“No one cheats death in the end.”

WHAT, I’M SUPPOSED TO EAT PLATITUDES NOW?

“If you like.”

And you can choke on them, Claire thought as Lance’s eyelids started to flutter. Dropping to one knee beside him, she shook his shoulder. “Come on, big guy. We’re leaving.”

“Going home?”

“Not right away. I’ve got some shopping to do first.”

“I like shopping.”

“Great. Hold that thought.”

It took Anubis and Bast helping to get him to his feet. He swayed slightly and blinked at Anubis.“Hey, who’s a good OW!”

Violence against Bystanders was permitted only in circumstances where it saved said Bystander, or Bystanders, from a greater violence. Claire figured calling Anubis a“good doggie” was definitely in the greater violence category.

“You pinched me!”

“Yes, I did.”

“Okay, then. How did we do?” he asked, rubbing one cheek.

“Neither of you were found wanting,” Osiris answered. He stepped forward, and Claire wasn’t surprised to find the three of them suddenly standing in front of the huge golden doors. Only now the doors were a standard height.

“Hey! We grew!”

Okay. That worked, too.

*

“Dr. Rebik?” The cleaned and ironed chinos hanging over his arm, Dean knocked on the door to room two. “Dr. Rebik, your pants are ready.”

“Maybe they’re having a nooner.”

Dean turned to stare at Austin in disbelief.

The cat shrugged.“Why not? They’re young and in love…oh, wait, my mistake, he’s having his life sucked out and she’s a reanimated corpse.”

“And it’s twenty after ten.” He knocked again.

“I find it disturbing that you’re more concerned with the time than the corpse.”

“I find it disturbing that you know what a nooner is.” About to knock a third time, he lowered his hand as the door opened and Dr. Rebik slipped out into the hall. Dean caught a quick glimpse of Meryat lying on the bed, wrapped arms crossed over her breast, then Dr. Rebik pulled the door closed.

One hand clutching the waistband of a pair of borrowed sweatpants, he stared up at Dean through bloodshot eyes as if unsure of who he was speaking to.“Yes?”

Dean held out the chinos.

“Ah. Yes.” Comprehension dawned slowly. “You were washing them for me.” His hand trembled slightly as he reclaimed his clothing.

“You all right, Dr. Rebik? You’re looking some poorly.”

“Some poorly?” The archaeologist managed a tired smile. “It’s the waiting. It’s hard on Meryat.”

“Looks like it’s hard on you.”

“We are as one in this.”

“Okay. Sure.” Frowning slightly, Dean watched as Dr. Rebik slipped back into his room. Meryat hadn’t moved. If he didn’t know better, he’d have to say she looked dead. As he stepped away from the door, he noticed a worn, brown leather wallet lying on the floor.

The way those sweatpants had been sagging, it had probably fallen from a pocket.

Dean bent, scooped it up, and lifted his hand to knock again.

Austin cleared his throat.

Don’t look at the cat. Just give it back.

As subtlety didn’t seem to be working, Austin sank a claw into Dean’s ankle just above his work boot.

“Son of…” He danced down the hall, collapsing against the wall by room one. “What’d you do that for, then?”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“About what? Tetanus?”

“About what’s in his wallet.”

“An amulet controlling his will? A note asking us to save him?”

Austin speared him with a pointed gaze.“You didn’t used to be this sarcastic.”

“I didn’t used to live with you!”

“Maybe he dropped it on purpose, did you think of that? Maybe it’s a cry for help.”

“You’re reaching.”

“You’re opening it.”

And he was. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but he found he couldn’t give the wallet back unexamined. Ithad fallen some conveniently.“I can’t believe I’m after doing this.”

“I can’t believe it’s taking you so long.”

Credit cards. Health card. Driver’s license…His eyes widened. If forced to guess, he’d have said Dr. Rebik was in his mid to late sixties.

According to his driver’s license, he was thirty-eight.

And he looked worse than his picture.

*

“I was right.”

“I know.”

“You were wrong.”

“Yeah. I got that.”

“There’s a song, you know. When I’m right and you’re wrong.”

Dean stopped pacing long enough to glare at the cat.“Don’t sing it.”

Austin sat down on the dining room table, stuck a foot in the air, and began washing his butt.

“Very subtle.” The dining room was exactly fourteen paces long. Provided he shortened the last step. “What do we do now?”

“You mean now that you admit I’m right?”

“Yes!”

“Well, we have to stop her. She’s sucking your life force out and what’s to say she won’t get tired of waiting for Claire and start sucking harder.”

“Lance said he knew how to stop her.”

“Which would be relevant if Lance wasn’t off with Claire.”

“Can we use the elevator on her?”

Austin sat up and shook his head.“It’s a little obvious. I suspect she’d sense it. What are you doing?”

Dean paused in the middle of crumpling up a sheet of newspaper.“I’m going to clean the windows. It’s what I do when I need to think.”

The two huge windows in the dining room were already spotless, but he sprayed them with a vinegar-and-water solution and began to rub.

“That’s a very annoying noise.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re not going to stop, are you?”

“No.”

When the paper was wet, he tossed it into the garbage and reached for another sheet. As he pulled it off the early edition, Austin’s paw snaked out and smacked it back down.

“There’s our answer!”

Dean scanned the headlines and frowned.“The waterfront renewal project?”

“No. The life-sized stone statue found at the mall!”

“The mall?”

“The very one! And you know what a life-sized stone statue means.”

“Bad garden art?”

“Basilisk! We go to the mall. We capture it. We turn Meryat to stone!”

“Claire…”

“You want Claire coming home to find Meryat waiting for her.”

No. He didn’t. “How do we capture a basilisk without turning to stone ourselves?”

Austin stared up at him in disbelief.“Do I have to think ofeverything?”

TWELVE

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

WHILE KEEPERS SPENT pretty much their entire lives fighting to keep the world safe, they didn’t usually get involved inactual fighting of the hand-to-hand, teeth-to-arm, knees-to-groin variety. And no matter how many Saturday afternoons got wasted watching badly dubbed kung fu movies, it didn’t help.

Diana realized this about ten seconds into the fight. She couldn’t reach the possibilities, she’d lost her prepared defenses, and she had no idea how to disable her opponents with a shopping cart. Not that there was a shopping cart handy.

Running, while the intelligent response, had got them exactly seven paces closer to the throne before two of the giant bugs—moving in that creepy, skittery,fast way that giant bugs had laid claim to since the old black-and-white movie days—had cut them off. Diving out of the way of a flailing forearm, or foreleg, or sixleg or whatever it was called on a bug, Diana smacked her head against the floor and, just for an instant, heard the voice of Ms. McBride, her last biology teacher.

“…size to mass ratio…”

Yeah. That was helpful.

Fortunately, her belief that the meat-minds were too clumsy to simultaneously walk and breathe made them an avoidable threat for the most part. The bugs were the problem. Just as the bugs had been the problem in the access corridor.

“Diana, are you listening?”

Apparently not.

She caught a quick glimpse of Kris going up and over a meat-mind, her black hightops digging into knees, thighs, hips, chest, and shoulders like they were part of her own personal jungle gym. As the mall elf leaped clear, the pursuing bug knocked the meat-mind ass over tip and got itself tangled in the sudden barricade of flailing arms and legs. Diana wasted a moment imagining what Kris could do with a shopping cart, then, at the last possible instant, dropped flat and slid under a descending carapace.

And let’s hear it for polished marble floors! she noted as her slide put her considerably closer to the wand. She could see it, lying all pink and plastic on the steps of the throne, but she couldn’t…quite…reach…

The bug’s leg caught her a glancing blow, skidding her a couple of meters in the wrong direction.

“This willbe on the final exam.”

What will?

She’d written her final biology exam only ten days ago.You’d think I’d remember more of it. Which was either a scathing indictment of the public school system, or she should start worrying about her short-term memory.

Curved, swordlike mandibles cut through the back of her sweater and hoisted her onto her feet.

Mandibles. Maxillae. Labium or lower lip.

Her final exam’d had an entire section on bugs. Class Insecta. A useless spewing of information she assumed she’d never need again—her present situation having been unanticipated at the time. Evidently, a little shortsighted of her.

Insects. Nearly a million known species.

Every kind of land environment supports a flourishing insect population.

“So, Ms. McBride, if bugs are so great, how come they aren’t taking over the world like in them old movies?”

Diana smiled and mentally thanked Daryl Mills. The bug holding her shuddered as its exoskeleton cracked in a dozen places with a sound like cheap wineglasses hitting a concrete floor. She jumped clear as it collapsed under its own weight. Most of a sperm whale’s weight was supported by water. Elephants had evolved massive bones and muscles to deal with their bulk. Size/mass ratio.

Giant bugs were impossible.

So there.

The sound of breaking glass filled the throne room and pieces of chitin buzzed around like shrapnel. The Shadowlord shrieked like a hockey mom after a bad call.

Three steps and she’d be at the dais. Up two stairs and she’d have the wand. One moment after that, it would all be over but the fat lady singing. Whatever that meant.

Three steps and…

Something caught her between the shoulder blades and she went down, hard.

Epicuticle, she thought muzzily as it bounced and landed about two centimeters from her nose.This isn’t…

A booted foot pressed hard against the back of her neck.

…good.

She swung out as a hand in her hair dragged her up onto her knees but only succeeded in overbalancing and nearly scalping herself. Blinking away memories of grade school ponytails so tight she looked like Mr. Spock’s kid sister, Diana screamed “RUN!” over the Shadowlord’s ultimatum that Kris surrender.

“What did you listen to him for?” she demanded a moment later as two meat-minds dropped Kris beside her.

The mall elf got shakily to her knees.“Like I was going to leave you here alone?”

How romantic.Well, since you asked, not very.“You could have gone for help!”

“As if. It’s wall to friggin’ wall of meat-minds out there. Couldn’t get past them.”

Okay. Even less romantic.

“So I remembered something I was told, way back,” Kris continued. “If you’re going to lose anyway, surrenderbefore they kick your ass—not after.”

“Arthur?”

“My mom.”

“Smart lady.”

“That time.”

“Are you two finished catching up?” the Shadowlord snarled.

“So, ’rents still together?” Diana asked, shuffling around so that she was facing the other girl.

The mall elf stared at her for a moment, then disbelief disappeared behind a gleeful smile as she caught on. When it seems like there’s no options left, there’salways the option of being a pain in the ass.“Nah, my dad split about six years ago. I’m guessin’ you’ve got the whole happy suburban family thing going down?”

“Oh, yeah. We’re a walking, talking WASP clich? except for that whole Keeper, Cousin, cat thing.”

“Silence!” At some point the Shadowlord had retrieved his club, and he was stroking it as he loomed over them.

“You know if you think that looks threatening…” Diana nodded toward the club. “…you’re so wrong. It’s screaming, ‘hey, girls, look at my big substitute…’”

She’d been a little worried she might provoke him into actually using the club, but, fortunately, he went with the personal touch. The backhand lifted her off her knees and threw her back over the steps of the dais. Moving around to face Kris had placed her at exactly the right angle—no brainer tofigure he’d lash out—and she grabbed the wand as she sprawled over it, stuffing it down into the front of her pants.

Diana’d seen the same stunt on a television show once. On a seventeen-inch screen it hadn’t looked as painful as it really was. Bells and whistles were still going off inside her skull as a pair of meat-minds hauled her onto her feet and dragged her back before the Shadowlord.

“Foolish little girl. I should kill you where you stand.”

“Not actually standing here…Ow!” The dangling she could cope with, but the shaking was a bit over the top. “Besides, you can’t kill me or you’d have already done it. And do you know why you can’t kill me?” For the same reason she hadn’t used the wand the moment her fingers closed around it. “Because you’re not the Big Bad.” She was not wasting their one chance on a flunky. “Killing me would release all sorts of energy down here. Energy you can’t control. That’s why you didn’t kill me…us,” she corrected, glancing over at Kris. “…before. That’s why you can’t kill me now.”

“I can’t, but that from where I came, can.”

Diana blinked. Even her eyelashes hurt.“What?”

“I speak of the Pit. The Darkness. The…”

“Yeah. Okay. I get it. You can’t. Hell can. It may have split you off, and given you a personality—of sorts—but it still keeps you under its thumb.”

“That’s not…”

“Hey, denial; not just a river in Egypt. Face it, Hell’s just using you. In fact, there really isn’t ayou at all. You don’t have a name, you don’t have an identity; you’re just an itty-bitty part of a greater whole. Hell doesn’t trust you with anyreal power.” As the last words left her mouth, Diana knew she’d made a mistake. The Shadowlord had been frowning as he listened to her, clearly not liking what she had to say—possibly not liking it enough to challenge Hell and cause a distraction, allowing her to seal the hole and shut down the segue thus saving the world—but attrust, he smiled.

“Of course, Hell doesn’t trust me,” he said calmly. “Hell is me. And I am Hell.”

“A little-bitty part…”

“Enough. Your blatant attempt to drive a wedge between me and my origin might have worked were we in the sort of fairy tale where the good guys always win, but we’re…”

“In the subbasement of an imaginary shopping mall,” Diana finished as dryly as her current position allowed.Oh, great, I’m starting to sound like Claire.

He stepped forward and pressed the end of his club under Diana’s chin, forcing her head back. “What part of ‘enough’ are you having difficulty understanding?”

“Well, duh; the part where I do anything you say.”

“Then perhaps you should consider this…” Had he been breathing, his breath would have caressed her cheek. As it was, she felt a faint frisson of fear spread out from the closest point between them, as though his proximity caused an involuntary physical reaction. “…I can’t kill you, but I can bludgeon you senseless.”

“Right. Enough; adverb. To put an end to an action.” Clearly she’d been paying more attention in English than biology, and she reallyreally wished he’d back away. “As in enough taunting the Shadowlord. I should stop it. I can do that.”

“Good.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_5]

“Is there any particular reason you asked the three-thousand-year-old, reanimated Egyptian mummy that’s been sucking out your life force if there was anything we could get her while we’re at the mall?”

“I was just being polite,” Dean protested as he turned off Sir John A. MacDonald Boulevard and onto Highway 33.

“She’s sucking out your life force,” Austin repeated, enunciating each word with caustic clarity.

“And that’s a reason to be rude, then?”

“Some people might think so.”

“Some people might be after jumping in the harbor; that doesn’t mean I’m going to do it.”

“So, just out of curiosity…” He hooked his claws in the seat as the truck maneuvered around another corner. “…what would be grounds for rudeness in your book?”

Dean’s brow creased above the upper edge of his glasses as he thought about it.

After a few moments, Austin sighed.“Never mind.”

There’d been discussion about Austin remaining at the guest house to keep an eye on things, but in the end they’d decided it was too great a risk. Without Dean there to snack on, there was always the chance that Meryat would turn to the cat and the cat didn’t have life force to spare.

“Although it’s entirely possible she can’t feed from me.”

“Why?” Before Austin could answer, Dean had raised a hand, cutting him off.“Because you’re a cat.”

“Does there need to be another reason?”

“Isthere ever another reason?”

The guest house had proven it could take care of itself.

The mall parking lot was about half full. Fully three quarters of the parked vehicles were minivans, which was disturbing mostly because Dean didn’t know how disturbed he should be. Or why. Just to be on the safe side, he parked next to a white sedan with Ohio plates.

“I’d feel better about this if I could go in there with you,” Austin muttered as Dean pulled an empty hockey bag out from behind the seats. “Do you remember the plan?”

“Find a spot by the food court, place the bag on its side with the zipper open, place the dish of cold Red River cereal in the bag, close the bag while the basilisk is eating, only look at it with this piece of mirror.” Dean held up the sideview mirror that had broken off the truck on his firstdrive to Ontario a year and a half ago. The support had snapped, but the glass was fine, so he’d hung on to it. “You’re sure it’ll come to the cereal, then?”

“It’s got to be hungry, and that stuff’s close enough to chicken feed it’ll never know the difference.”

“I can’t believe we’re…”

“…utilizing local resources to disable a metaphysical threat.”

Dean stared at the cat.

Austin stared back.

“Well, when you put it like that,” Dean said at last. He opened the door and stepped down onto the asphalt. “Try to stay out of sight. The windows are open and you’ve got lots of water, but I don’t want some good Samaritan calling the cops on me because they think you’re suffering.”

“Nobody understands my pain.”

“You can say that again,” Dean sighed as he closed the door.

The parking lot felt soft underfoot. It wasn’t the heat, even though it was hot enough to paint his T-shirt to his body, and bright enough to light it up like Signal Hill; it was as if the asphaltitself was rising around each boot and trying to drag him down. Not exactly what had happened to Claire and Diana the morning he’d dropped them off since they’d left visible footprints in the tar and he had no actual evidence that this was going on anywhere but in his head. No footprints. No smell of melted tar. Just a feeling. Accompanied by the certainty that things on the Otherside had gotten worse instead of better.

Things always get worse beforethey get better, he told himself and didn’t find it very reassuring. He wanted to help. He couldn’t help. All he could do was make sure that when Claire came home, she wouldn’t be facing a life-sucking reanimated mummy. Given the condition of the parking lot, it didn’t seem like enough.

He found himself walking with an exaggerated, high-stepping gait. And he wasn’t the only one. Across the lot, two kids, one around three, the other no more than five, were walking the exact same way. The funny thing was, their mother—Dean assumed it was their mother although she could have been a babysitter—didn’t seem to notice. Her feet were dragging with the unmistakable exhaustion of someone who’d just spent the morning with two preschoolers in a shopping mall.

Were children more open to the extraordinary?

He flushed as he realized the mother—or babysitter—was aware of his attention. Flushed darker when he realized she was staring at his…uh, jeans…and smiling in a way that was making him distinctly nervous. Picking up his pace, he made it to the concrete in time to turn and see all three of them pile into a later model station wagon.

Not a minivan.

Which was good; right?

Feeling vaguely nostalgic for the days when he knew what the hell was going on, he went into the mall.

The air-conditioning hit him like a dive into the North Atlantic, and the sweat dribbling down the sides of his neck dried so fast it left goose bumps behind. A trio of fourteen-year-old girls burst into high-pitched giggling as he stepped back and held open the door for them, the giggling punctuated by“Oh. My. God.” at frequent intervals as they passed. Dean had the uncomfortable feeling they were referring to the rip in the right leg of his jeans. Maybe he shouldn’t have worn them out in public, but after years of being washed and ironed, they were so thin that they were the coolest pair he owned in spite of how tightly they fit.

He’d parked by the food court entrance, having a strong suspicion that a man carrying a basilisk in a hockey bag was going to need to cover as short a distance as possible inside the mall.

By the time he reached the edge of the seating area, he remembered what he hated about these kind of places. He’d seen dead cod with more personality.

Actually, in this kind of weather, dead cod had personality to spare.

Only the fact that the forces of evil were using this mall as part of their attempt to take over the world made it any different than a hundred malls just like it. Although not a lot different.

Austin had been certain the basilisk would be hanging around the food court.

Dean studied the area carefully, walked over to the ubiquitous Chinese Take-Out, and bought an egg roll and a coffee. He couldn’t just sit down at a table in the food court without food, taking up space he had no real right to; that would be rude. Tray in one hand, hockey bag in the other, he made his way through a sudden crowd of teenagers toward the more thickly filled of the two planters—the perfect basilisk hiding place.

The good news: the table closest to the planter was empty.

The bad news: either a chicken-lizard combo smelled like the shallows after one of the big boats had just flushed her bilges on a hot day or the basilisk wasn’t the only thing the planter was hiding.

It certainly explained why the statue they’d found had been holding a trowel and a bucket.

He wasted a moment wondering why they’d positioned plastic plants under a skylight, then reached into his bag and took the top off the container of cooked cereal. With the open bag carefully braced between his feet, he set the mirror in his lap, and opened his coffee.

As he took his first sip, he heard his grandfather’s voice,“Fer the love of God, bai, you don’t go buying coffee from a Chinese Take-Out! That’s why the good laird gave us Timmy Horton’s!”

Dean put the lid back on his cardboard cup, forcing himself to swallow.

His grandfather had been a very wise man.

The egg roll probably would have tasted better if his sense of smell hadn’t gone numb. On the other hand, had his sense of smell still been functioning, he wouldn’t have been able to eat the egg roll, so he supposed it evened out.

How long was he supposed to be waiting, then?

“Dean McIssac? Christ on crutches, it is you!”

The young woman who dropped into the other seat had a blaze of red hair over startlingly black eyebrows and breasts that threatened to spill out over the top of her…Actually, Dean had no idea of what she was wearing. He remembered the breasts. When he wasn’t playing hockey, dreams of those breasts had pretty much got him through his last year of high school. And occasionally when hewas playing hockey, which was how he’d dislocated his shoulder. Unfortunately, she’d been dating the same guy since grade nine and no one else stood a chance. She’d been the perfect, safe, unattainable fantasy. “Sherri Murphy. What’re you doing so far from home?”

“Working. Same as. Got a job out at the nylon plant.” Sherri grinned across the table at him. “Damn, it’s some good to see a familiar face. You here alone?”

“Yeah…”

Her grin sharpened.

Dean wondered why he’d never noticed the predatory curve to it before. No wait; he knew why. “Uh, Jeff…”

She shrugged, and he missed the first few words.“…boat with his dad. Like you can support a family fishing these days.” Her gaze turned frankly speculative. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“You got a girl?”

“A girl…yes.” Floundering without knowing how he’d gotten caught up by the surf, he clung to the thought of Claire. “She’s around here somewhere.” Which, ifsomewhere was stretched about as far as it could go, was the absolute truth.

Head cocked to one side, Sherri studied his face.“You know, word was, Dean McIssac couldn’t lie to save his life.” The tip of her tongue traced a moist line over her lower lip.

Something warm and soft brushed up against Dean’s ankle, and he felt his cheeks begin to burn. “Listen, there’s a, uh, bar down in Portsmouth Village, the, uh…” The pressure against his leg increased, moving softly up and down his calf. “…Ship to Shore. Bunch of us from home are there most Saturdays.”

“Talking about when you’re going back east?” Her voice had picked up a wistful tone.

“Yeah. That, too. The owner has a load of Black ‘Arse trucked up from home about once a month.”

“Beer and nostalgia, hard to resist.”

The lightest touch against the inside of his knee. Dean’s whole body twitched although, crammed into the seat as he was, he couldn’t jump back. He was amazed she’d found enough room to maneuver under these tiny tables.

“I’m not remembering you as being this jumpy.” Smiling like she knew a secret, she stood. “Saturdays, eh? Maybe I’ll be stopping by, then. I’d like to meet the girl who finally got you.”

More than a little confused, he watched her walk away.

Got me wha…

A gentle caress against his other leg.

Sherri had disappeared into the drugstore.

How did she…?

Oh.

Ears on fire, he glanced down at the mirror in his lap. The chicken half of the basilisk was in his hockey bag eating Red River cereal. The lizard part, a long, prehensile, bright green scaly tail, was rubbing up and down his leg.

She must think I’m a total idiot.

Leaning forward, both hands under the table, he gently shoved the tail into the bag.

Claire could never find out about this.

A warm beak investigated his fingers. He pushed it back down toward the cereal.

Austin could never find out about this.

Holding the zipper clear of stray feathers, he quickly closed it.

The squawk was remarkably loud. Half a dozen heads turned toward him.

“Just caught my basilisk in the zipper,” he explained, threw the bag over his shoulder and hurried for the door, his ears so hot he was sure they were leaving a thermal trail behind them.

*

Dean listened to the flat, definitive click in disbelief and then turned the key again, just in case. Another click followed by a silence so complete he could hear feathers being rearranged in the hockey bag now tucked behind the seats.“I don’t believe this. The battery’s dead.”

“You were gone for a long time; I got bored.” Austin licked his shoulder. “I was listening to the radio.”

“But I have the keys, and you couldn’t use a key if you had one.” Click. Nothing. “How did you even turn the electrical system on?”

“It’s a cat thing.”

He laid his head against the steering wheel and jerked it back almost immediately as the black plastic branded the arc of its upper curve into his skin.“You’re telling me cats can hot wire cars, then?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Austin snapped. “This is a truck.”

“Right.” Because that was all the explanation he was ever going to get.Okay. He got out of the truck and stared across the parking lot, watching the heated air rise up off the asphalt and shimmer like a curtain between worlds. If only it was that easy. Kevin had borrowed his jumper cables back in March and never returned them. He’d be smacking the buddy upside the head for that come Saturday, but it wasn’t going to do him any good now.A basilisk,a talking cat, and a dead battery walk into a bar…Turning his back on the minivans, he banged his head against the hood of truck.

“You look like you’re having a bad day. Is there something I can do to help?”

She was about his age, her name was Mary, she was up from the States for a music festival, and she had, not only a set of jumper cables, but a set long enough to reach from her battery to his.“My brother bought them for me,” she told him tossing a waist-length braid back over her shoulder as she efficiently hooked the two vehicles together. “There, try it now.”

The truck turned over on the first attempt. Dean hit the parking brake, put it in neutral, and got out to help Mary coil her cables.

“Is that your cat?” she asked as Austin put his paws up on the dashboard and peered out at them.

“Not exactly.”

“Ah.” She nodded wisely. “Your girlfriend’s cat. You have the look of a man in over his head.”

As she bent to put the cables in the trunk, Dean was horrified to see the hockey bag rise up from behind the seats and attempt to take flight. He gestured wildly at Austin, who made a rude gesture in return just as the bag slid forward, hit the seat, and knocked Austin’s feet out from under him. On the bright side, bag and cat were out of sight by the time Mary turned. Dean thanked her in a hurry, shook her hand, yanked his feet out of the tar, and dove back into the truck.

The bag was on the floor on the passenger side. Austin was on the bag, smacking random bits of covered basilisk.“I’m getting too old for this kind of…” A fast right, quickly followed by a left hook, quelled an incipient uprising. “…shit.”

“If you hadn’t run down my battery, we’d be home by now!”

“Oh, so it’smy fault you had to be rescued by a girl?”

“Yeah. It is. Your fault.” He glanced up, noticed Mary frowning at him, waved, put the truck in gear, and started for home. In over his head. That pretty much summed up his life of late.

He needed Claire back in the worst way.

*

Sam knew he was supposed to be calm, cool, and collected—although he had no idea of just what he was supposed to collect. He knew that he, as a cat, should be an example of self-confident serenity to the horde of mall elves, armed and armored from sporting goods, who were about to go into battle against the forces of evil.

Sporting goods aside, this wasn’t going to be battle by Disney.

He had a feeling that even as an angel, he’d sucked at serenity. Unfortunately, since that whole Soldier of the Lord thing would come in handy right about now, the more time he spent in fur, the less he remembered about his life BC. Before cat.

Back and forth across the top of the shelves that defined the open court around the fire pit. He couldn’t stop pacing.

The unmistakable of sound of a two-fingered whistle echoed through the enclosed space, instantly silencing the babble of conversation. A dozen heads of exotic hair turned toward the sound.

“Dudes! Listen up.” Red braid swinging across the broad shoulders of his hockey pads, Will nodded toward Arthur, who stood beside him on a chair pulled away from a kitchen set in home furnishings. “Our fearless leader’s got something to say!”

The Immortal King looked out at the crowd, his blue eyes sweeping from face to face, refusing to be hurried. Under his black leather jacket, he was wearing an umpire’s padded breastplate. In his left hand, he held a pair of heavy leather gauntlets from gardening supplies. In his right, he held Excalibur.

It was so quiet Sam could hear only the faint creak of plastic padding. It was almost as though the mall elves were holding their breath, waiting for their leader to speak.

The ringing crash of the aluminum bat bouncing loudly across the tiles spun everyone around. They watched in unison until the bat finally hissed to a stop under Kith’s raised boot. Then they all looked at Sam.

He hadn’t even noticed the bat before he knocked it off the shelf.

Ignoring the pounding of his heart, and pretty sure he’d just lost the first of the alleged nine lives, he sat down and wrapped his tail pointedly around his front paws. Given the overwhelming, all encompassing level of noise, he didn’t think he could pull off the classic “I meant to do that” expression, so he settled for the slightly less difficult “What?” aimed directly at Arthur. Unable to help themselves, the elves turned again, searching for what he was staring at.

Poets knew that cats looked at kings because poets were no more immune than anyone else when it came to discovering what cats were staring at.

Arthur sighed.“You called me here,” he said after a moment, “to make you one people. To stop the bickering that made you easy prey for the darkside. To teach you how to hold the line against the darkside and say, this far you shall go and no farther. This I have done. You are one people. You act as one against the darkside. You hold the line. But it is no longer enough. The darkside has taken one of us and one of the Keepers who came to set us free. We cannot just hold the line while Kris and Diana are in the hands of our enemies. It is time we take the fight to them!”

“Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Caught up in the rhetoric, it took Sam a moment to realize why the response made him so edgy. He’d seen much the same thing on a grade-school playground while waiting for Diana to close an accident site under the slide.

Tossing back his hair with one hand, lifting Excalibur above his head with the other, Arthur yelled out,“Who is with me?”

All the hair lifted along Sam’s spine and in the second between the question and the answer, he shouted, “Wait!”

*

“Ow! Where are we?”

“In a refrigerator.” Bent nearly double, Claire reached for the door, hoping it was still open. “I’d have told you to duck, but I didn’t want to end up on an extended visit to Donald, Daisy, or Howard.”

“So, Meryat’s not in here?”

“No. Meryat’s not in here.” There was focused and then there was obsessive. Lance had crossed the line some time ago. “Hands off!”

“Sorry! There’s not much room!”

“Well, it’s arefrigerator,” she muttered, flicking the edge of the egg tray and trying to remember if it was on the door in this particular model. They had more than the actual room available but not by much.

“Would this be a good time to tell you that I’m a little claustrophobic?”

“No.” Okay. That was the butter thingy. Had to be the door. Both hands against it, Claire pushed.

“We need to get out now.”

“I’m working on…Hey!” Those were hands where they had no business being. Not that Lance seemed to notice as he began to throw himself against the sides of the fridge. “Careful! You’re going to…”

Too late.

The fridge went over, the door flew open, and Claire spilled out into Large Appliances wrapped up in a panicking grad student. She slapped him purely for medicinal reasons.

Rolling free, she found herself staring up at a pair of worried amber eyes, cinnamon nose nearly touching hers. No mistaking the tuna breath.“Sam! Ow!” Half a heartbeat later, she had an armful of marmalade cat and a row of bleeding puncture marks along her collarbone. “Oh, baby-cat, you have no idea how glad I am to seeyou.”

The ecstatic purring stopped. Sam squirmed free and backed up until all four feet were each applying approximately ten pounds of pressure to Claire’s chest. “Baby-cat?”

“Term of endearment.”

“Baby-cat!”

“I’m sorry. I was caught up in the moment. It willnever happen again.”

Whiskers bristling, Sam stared at her with such intensity, her eyes started to water.“See that it doesn’t,” he snorted at last and walked away muttering, “Baby-cat? I’d like to see what’d happen if she tried that on Austin. He’d remove her spleen…”

Claire smiled and sat up. It was good to be back.

“What’s with the elves in hockey gear?” Lance demanded, bouncing up onto his feet, panic forgotten.

Actually, that was a good question.

White, plastic shoulder pads gleaming under the store’s florescent lights, the mall elves pushed their way between the washers and dryers and surrounded the open area in front of the toppled fridge. Whatever they’d been doing, it had certainly got them worked up; Claire’d never seen them so excited. They were in constant movement, all talking at once. Half a dozen hands reached down to lift her to her feet.

“Thank you, okay, that’s great, I’m fine, yes it’s good to be back…Hey!” An elf she didn’t recognize backed away, hands in the air. Sure, hecould have just been smoothing down the back of her skirt and shecould have just spent a couple of hours with the gods of ancient Egypt.Oh, wait…

“They’re happy to see you!” Lance pointed out, accurately but unnecessarily.

“He’s not Australian?” Stewart asked, shooting a disbelieving glance up at the taller blond.

“Not so that you’d notice.”

“Weird.” He handed over her sandals. “You left these here.”

Claire thanked him, bent to slip them on, and straightened as the surrounding babble rose in volume.

Lance’s fingers closed over her shoulder. “Meryat!”

She sighed.“Arthur.” And stepped forward to meet the Immortal King.

He clasped her wrist in a warrior-to-warrior move Claire’d only ever seen performed in old movies. It was moderately reassuring that he hadn’t changed enough from his basic parameters to greet her with a high five. “I am truly glad to see you back, Keeper.”

“I’m truly glad to be back.” She glanced at his chest. “Decided to have a sports day while I was gone?”

“We are armored for battle.”

“Battle? The darkside is attacking?”

“No.” Blue-black hair fell over his eyes as he shook his head. “We take the fight to them.”

It seemed like she’d managed to find the mall just in time. “No, we don’t…”

“Your sister, the Keeper Diana, and Kris, my captain, have been captured.”

“Yes, we do. How do you know this?”

“A budgie mirror gave the news to Sam.”

“Okay, then.” That was just ludicrous enough to be a reliable source. She waved toward the various bits of surrounding padding. “Can I assume you were about to leave?”

“We were.”

“Just let me get my stuff…”

“Claire?”

Right. Lance. Her own personal albatross. Except that an actual albatross would be significantly less annoying. Still…Bystander. Keeper. Responsible. Yadda. “Lance…” She reached back, got a good grip on his sleeve and dragged him forward. “…this is Arthur. He’s in charge of the elves.”

“The Arthur?”

“Yes.”

Lance frowned.“I would have thought Oberon…”

“Apparently not.”

“He’s younger than I imagined him being.”

“That’s because youdidn’t imagine him.” She gestured toward the kids. “They did. Arthur, this is Lance. He’s a very confused grad student looking for his professor and a reanimated mummy.”

Arthur stared up at the large, blond man and his pale cheeks paled further.“Lance?”

“Yes.”

“Du Lac?”

“Benedict.”

The Immortal King released the breath he’d been holding. “Thank God.”

YOU’RE WELCOME.

THIRTEEN

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

“YOU LOCKED SAM IN A CRATE?”

“With both you and your sister missing, I felt responsible for his safety. I asked him to give me his word that he’d remain here, in the store. He wouldn’t.” Arthur glanced over at Claire, his expression somewhere between concerned and defiant. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“You were,” Claire told him reassuringly. “But that’s not actually relevant. If I were you, I’d check your bedding before getting into it and your shoes before putting them on.”

A quiet voice murmured“Ooo, shoes…” from around ankle height but when Claire looked down, Sam was nowhere to seen.

“Sorry.”

Arthur waved it off.“It’s all right…”

He was lying, but she appreciated the effort.

“…we have greater troubles now facing us than possible retribution by one annoyed cat.”

And if Arthur was very lucky, Sam hadn’t heard that. “So you’ve armed your people and are about to…?”

“Meet the enemy head on, rescue your sister and my captain, and end this once and for all.”

“That’s the plan?”

“No, those are our objectives. How we achieve those objectives—that’s the plan. Once we have drawn the enemy into battle, Teemo and Kith will take the scout’s route in behind their lines and effect the rescue.”

“And ending this once and for all?”

“I will be leading my people. Once I am on the darkside, I do not doubt their leader will personally try to kill me. We will meet in battle and in single combat decide the fate of this mall.”

Claire stopped walking and turned to stare at Arthur.“I beg your pardon?” She could almost hear Diana asking him if his baseball equipment was cutting off the oxygen supply to his brain.

“I have been in these situations before, Keeper. This is what always happens.”

“Yes, and youlose.”

His smile was almost condescending.“There is no Mordred in this reality.”

“Okay, first of all, you don’t know that. We don’t know who or what is pulling the strings on the darkside. That’s what Diana and Kris were supposed to find out instead of getting themselves captured and possibly tortured, and it’s all very well for you, but what on earth am I supposed totell my mother if I come back without her?”

Arthur blinked, glanced back at Lance, who shrugged and finally offered,“Tell her that Diana gave her life in the service of the greater good.”

“Uh-huh.” Claire chewed a bit of nail polish off her right thumb. “And on a pure Keeper/Cousin level that might work but I’m talking about my little sister and mymother.” She spat a bit of Midnight Coral out with the last word, then sighed. “I’ll be going with Teemo and Kith. If Kris and Diana have been taken by the enemy, there isn’t a chance of getting them back without my help.”

“Then your help is gratefully accepted.”

“Good.” They began walking again, skirting the edge of Giftware and cutting through Leather Goods. Given what the elves considered party clothes, Claire wasn’t surprised that particular section had been emptied out. “Where was I? Rhetorical question,” she added quickly as Lance made anI know, I know! kind of noise.“The whole Mordred thing is irrelevant. You’re the archetypal symbol for one side, and if you face the archetypal symbol for the other side—we can call it Big Bird if we want to, but it won’t make a difference—you’ll die. This is the Otherside. I am a Keeper. I believe this, so itwill happen. If it makes you feel any better, you can blame Mrs. Saint-Germaine and grade eleven English.”

“But…”

“No.”

“If I…”

“No.”

“It isn’t…”

“What part of ‘no’ are you having trouble understanding? Youmust not face the leader of the darkside in combat.” Claire ran both hands up through her hair and sighed again. “All at once, I understand exactly how Yoda felt.”

“Who?”

“Not important.”

Arthur looked as though he was about to protest, then clearly thought better of it.“Okay.”

“I’m going to go get changed.”

“Petite Sportswear is against the far right-hand wall.”

“Thank you. Lance…” A half turn to find him smiling down at her. She had a sudden vision of him let loose in the mall and shuddered. “…you’d better stay with me.”

“Sure! Hang on a minute!”

Since she didn’t have a hope of moving him, she folded her arms and waited as he stepped forward, his pale blue eyes locking onto Arthur’s azure ones.

“You’re the actual Arthur?” he asked.

“I’m a version of the archetypal Arthur.”

“Cool! Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The broad brow under the silver band wrinkled.“I am making a fractured people one. I am a leader where there is need.”

“But here? In a shopping mall?”

“Yes.”

“With elves?”

“Yes.”

Lance frowned.“I’m confused.”

“You’re not the only one.” Claire patted him reassuringly on a sunburned forearm. “Come on…”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_5]

Black stretch pants, black tank, black hood, black running shoes, black belt pouch…Claire had no idea if the real-world store carried the same selection, but on the Otherside this was clearly the place for one stop skulking. She either looked like she was going to a very casual funeral or about to fill her evening with a little B&E—she couldn’t decide. Maybe both; B&E at a casual funeral…

Stop it. Do not think of funerals. You’ll get Diana back.

Her hands were shaking as she dropped to tie her laces.“Is this really necessary? Ninja dressing didn’t keep Kris and Diana from being captured.”

“I totally doubt it was the clothes that got them snagged,” Kith snorted, tying off the end of her braid with a black elastic. “You walk the walk, you wear the cloth.”

“Excuse me?”

“You gotta dress like you do.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Communication between seventeen and twenty-seven occasionally took place in two distinct languages. Buckling on the belt pouch, she hurried out of the dressing room in time to smack a piece of chocolate away from Lance’s mouth.

“Hey!”

“If you ever want to go back, you can’t eat or drinkanything on this side that you didn’t bring with you.”

“But I’m hungry!”

Actually, so was she.“I’ve got food in my pack. Come on.”

Her pack was with Diana’s, just inside the front door. Claire dragged Lance through the milling crowd of mall elves, tossed him a power bar and a bottle of water, and began filling her belt pouch with preset possibilities.

“I’d send you back to Kingston if I could,” she told him, tucking a folded piece of paper behind three glass marbles, “but with the darkside influencing the paths, I can’t guarantee where you’d end up.”

“I’m willing to take that chance in order to stop Meryat!”

“Since you’re the only one whocan stop Meryat and since she’s with Dean, I’m not. We rescue Kris and Diana, we stop the darkside, we stop its influence, I send you to the guest house, you stop Meryat, and…”

“We all live happily ever after!”

“Sure. Why not.” The small plastic packet of cayenne pepper got slid very carefully up against the flat side of the pouch. “But for now, you’ll have to stay here in the store where you’ll be safe.”

“I’m not afraid to fight!”

“Good. If the store gets attacked, you’ll have to.” Fortunately, with Arthur out in the mall, there’d be no chance of that. Claire unzipped an outside pocket on Diana’s pack, reached into it, and froze as her fingers closed around air. “The wand. Diana took the wand.”

“That’s bad?”

“When she used it against a minion, it nearly killed her. If she uses it against the darkside…”

“But I thought she was captured?”

“So?” It took all of Claire’s strength to push that single syllable out against the certain knowledge that her little sister was as good as dead.

“So if it’s that powerful, then she didn’t get to use it before she was captured. After, well, they’ll have taken it away from her so shecan’t use it. Right?”

Claire actually felt time start up again.“Right.” For the first time since the beach, she looked at Lance with something other than pique. Like he was something other than an unwanted responsibility. “Thank you.”

His cheeks flushed under the sunburn.

“So what’s the holdup?” Sam jumped up onto the top of Claire’s pack. “Why aren’t we moving out?”

She zipped the belt pouch closed.“We?”

Amber eyes narrowed, and his tail traced one long, slow arc from side to side.

“You’re right.” Claire raised both hands in surrender, ignoring Lance’s questioning glance. Some arguments didn’t require actual dialogue. “But you’re not coming with me because I need you go with Arthur. If he’s challenged to single combat, he’ll forget everything I’ve told himabout why he shouldn’t and leap forward to do what he considers the only honorable thing.”

“I want…”

“Sam, there has to be someone there to tell him when he’s being an idiot and that’s one of the things cats do best.”

“But Diana…”

“Needs my full attention. I can’t be worrying about what Arthur’s going to do if I’m to have a chance of saving her.”

Sam’s ears saddled. “You’re that sure he’ll answer a challenge?”

“I am. It’s one of the benefits of working with an archetype.” As Arthur climbed up onto the chair, she frowned thoughtfully and added, “Actually, it’s pretty much the only benefit.”

Arthur stared out at his assembled elves, raised his sword, opened his mouth, and closed it again.

The moment had long passed.

He jerked his head toward the mall.“Let’s go.”

*

“So, we’re winning, right? And this is part of your plan?”

Diana glanced over at Kris as the surrounding meat-minds shoved them along familiar corridors.“This?”

“Yeah. This.” Her gesture took in the meat-minds and the back of the Shadowlord walking up ahead. “You know, being captured and taken back to that…hole. ’Cause that’s where you want to be, right?”

“Kris, that hole is essentially an entrance to Hell.”

“So, as a plan, it sucks. But itis a plan, right?”

Since the other girl so clearly needed to hear a specific answer, Diana smiled and lowered her voice.“Yeah, it’s a plan. It’s not much of one now, but it will be by the time we get there.”

“Wicked.”

Actually, yes, it being Hell and all, but Diana figured Krisdidn’t need to hear that right now. Closing Hell down in the real world had been difficult enough, closing it on the Otherside without access to the possibilities would be almost impossible. Rules would probably have to be broken.Hey, it’s not like I haven’t broken rules before.

Although not big ones.

Not on purpose anyway.

And intent counted.

I’m intending to save the world. That ought to count for something.

Destroying the bugs had been easy—once she’d plugged the small memory leak—as easy as tripping up the meat-minds by noticing how clumsy they looked. but Hell hadn’t given either the bug or the meat-minds substance. People preferred their world to have form and function and by giving darkness definition, they gave it a physical presence. The mall elves had created their own monsters. Giant bugs, skittering around inside the walls, and big, slow-moving guys with short hair, beady eyes, heavy guts and hands that were too big for their bodies.

The mall elves had been street kids before they found their way through to the Otherside.

The meat-minds were broad stereotypes of bad cops.

Maybe we should throw coffee and donuts at them. Answer one bad stereotype with another.

“You just had an idea.”

“What?”

Kris dug her elbow into Diana’s side with unconcealed glee. “You grinned. And your eyes were gleaming. You just had an idea. Hey, you! Piece of Hell Guy!” She raised her voice. “My girl’s gonna kick your Metamucil ass!”

He turned, his expression so affronted Diana couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “My what?”

“I think you meant metaphysical,” she murmured into an elven ear.

“Metaphysical, metamorphosis, metronome,The Metropolis Daily Planet!” Kris snorted. “Thepoint is the ass kicking.”

His lip curled.“The point is that you are my prisoners, and I know a great many ways to make you scream.”

Remember the meaning of enough, Diana pleaded silently with Kris.If you push him too far… She’d only get one chance to use the wand and the last thing she wanted to do was weigh the life of one beautiful, funny, interested girl against the world.

And, for a change, it reallywas the last thing she wanted to do.

When neither Keeper nor elf responded, he nodded, turned, and the whole procession began moving again.

About five minutes of shoving later, Kris sighed.“I should’ve said it’d take more than an old white guy to make me scream. Wrong color. Wrong gender. Wrong wang.”

“Yeah, you always think of the good lines when it’s too late.”

“Truth.”

“Wang?”

“You know.” She pumped her hand at her crotch.

“Ah. Wang.”

By the time they reached the cavern, the wand had slid out from under her waistband and started down her right leg. It would have slid farther, but one of the points got caught on the leg elastic of her underwear. Diana half expected Hell to say,Is that a wand in your pocket or are you just happy to see me, but the pit remained silent as they were marched toward it.

She’d only get one chance.

One.

As the meat-minds released them, the Shadowlord stepped back and wrapped long pale fingers around their upper arms, dragging them to the edge.

Diana could feel Hell watching her. She was going to need a diversion. Meanwhile, there was no point in cowering.“So…” Given the way the hair was raising off the back of her neck in reaction to Hell’s attention, bored was a bit more than she could manage but—thank God for being seventeen—insolent was no problem. “…what are you going to do with us?”

WHAT DO YOU THINK?

“Don’t tell me. Not the virgin sacrifice again.”

APPARENTLY NOT.

Hell sounded put out about her moral failings?“Oh, ha ha.”

THANK YOU. I’VE ALWAYS PRIDED MYSELF ON MY SENSE OF HUMOR.

“That explains a whole lot about Comedy Central.”

HEY, DON’T BLAME JON STEWART ON ME. I DON’T EVEN GET CABLE.

“Well, it’sHell.”

AND YET YOUR LOT ALWAYS SEEM SO SURPRISED WHEN I TRY TO EXPAND MY HORIZONS.

“You’re trying to take over the world for cable?”

NOTJUST CABLE. YOU MAKE IT SOUND SO PETTY.

“Sorry.”

NO, YOU’RE NOT.

Diana sighed.“You’re right. I’m not sorry.” She tried to yank her arm free without success and sighed again. “Could we get on with it?”

IT?

“The part where you gloat about what you’re going to do to us.”

YOU’RE IN A HURRY?

“I just thought we should get it out of the way.” She leaned forward far enough to catch Kris’ eye around the Shadowlord’s black-clad body. “It’s in the Rules.”

“Gloating?”

“Yeah.”

“I always wondered. And the giant snow-cone machine?”

Diana grinned. She was so definitely in love.“That’s optional.”

YOU’RE BAIT!

That’s what she’d been half afraid of. But this was not the place to let fear show. “Sorry?”

YOUR SISTER WILL COME FOR YOU AND THE IMMORTAL KING WILL COME FOR HER. UNPREPARED TO FACE ME, THEY WILL BE DESTROYED.

There was her diversion.

While Hell’s attention was on the destruction of Arthur and Claire, she’d take her one shot with the wand and pour everything she had into closing the hole.

And it would take everything, too.

As plans went, it sucked—worst case scenario left the ground littered with bodies—but at least now shehad a plan.

*

“I’m after having second thoughts about this plan. That is one pissed-off basilisk!”

Austin smacked at another bit of rolling canvas.“You’re surprised? You don’t go zipping mythological creatures into hockey bags and expect them to be pleased about it.” He dug his claws into the upholstery as Dean turned the truck into the guest house driveway. “Later, when we’ve got the time, remind me to tell you about what happened when Claire stuffed a pixie into her purse.”

“Messy?”

“In a manner of speaking.” The truck rocked forward and back, the jerky stop giving Austin some indication of the state of Dean’s mind. He didn’t reallycare about the state of Dean’s mind, but he had a pretty good idea of what was going on up there. “You’re wondering if you can go through with this.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re concerned because, sure she’s an evil, life-sucking mummy, but is that any reason to turn her to stone.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re thinking that a life-sized statue of a reanimated corpse is not only going to destroy the ambiance of the guest house but will probably gouge the hell out of the hardwood floors when you try to move it.”

“I’mnot thinking ambiance!”

Austin took a swipe at the immaculate white fur on his shoulder.“Too many syllables for you?”

“I’m thinking…”

As the pause extended, he looked up to see Dean clutching the sides of the steering wheel, his head bowed and resting against the top curve.“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop thinking.” He stood, stretched, smacked the hockey bag again, and put his paw on Dean’s thigh. “Look, you’re just a Bystander and you should never have had to deal with anything stranger than laundry instructions. That said—although I’ll call you a liar if you ever repeat this—you’re dealing with it admirably. Justkeep dealing with it and you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t look like a man who’s in over his head…OW!”

Austin retracted his claws and muttered,“You look like a man with blood on his jeans and a basilisk in a hockey bag. Get over yourself and let’s get on with this. I’m hot, I’m hungry, and I’m missing Oprah.”

*

The guest house was cool and quiet as Dean pushed open the back door. With the curtains pulled across the dining room’s big windows, the sun hadn’t had a chance to heat things up. And that was good because the air outside was rapidly approaching dry roast. He wasn’t so sure about the shadows, though; they made the place look mysterious, spooky even and, all things considered, that wasn’t exactly reassuring.

Grunting as a tail or a foot or a wing orsomething caught him in the stomach, he heaved the hockey bag up onto the dining room table. Then grabbed it as the basilisk’s struggles sent it skittering across the highly polished surface. Okay, maybe he had gone a little overboard with the wax.

“Dean.”

Heart in his throat, he whirled around.“Jaysus, Dr. Rebik, don’t be sneaking up on me like that!”

The old man managed half a smile.“Sorry.”

Old man.

They’d been gone for—Dean glanced down at his watch—just over two and a half hours. In that time, Dr. Rebik had aged a good thirty years. Actually, abad thirty years.

He blinked rheumy eyes.“What’s in the bag?”

“You know, word was, Dean McIssac couldn’t lie to save his life.”

“Well, it’s uh…”

“Personal,” Austin snapped. “Just a little cat business Dean’s helping me out with.” He stalked past the professor, tossing an imperious, “Let’sgo, Dean,” back over one shoulder.

Dean shrugged apologetically, picked up the bag, and started to follow, his eyes flicking back and forth from one shadow to another. If Dr. Rebik was here, the obvious question became, where was Meryat?

Right on cue, she stepped out of the shadows, blocking his way. He could push past her, even though she looked significantly less dead than she had, he was still twice her size. But that would be rude. Clutching the handles of the hockey bag in suddenly sweaty hands, he stopped.

“You seem distracted, Mr. McIssac.” She smiled. Her lips went almost all the way around her mouth. “Were you looking for me?”

*

“What’s he looking for?”

“Us.” Teemo squirmed a little farther into the shadows, only stopping when Kith squeaked a protest. “Well, not like totally us. But, you know,us.”

Claire frowned and peered out past the elves at the elderly security guard.“He’s not even in this reality.”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s got this kind of…”

“Teenager sense,” Kith finished. “It’s like he hates us, and that helps him find us.”

“Really?” She could feel her eyes narrowing all on their own.

“Yeah. Really. He’s the freakiest thing in here, and that’s saying something.”

But exactlywhat it was saying, Claire wasn’t certain. Had the old man been changed as the mall changed? Over the years, had he allowed his job to define him until he became his job and the job became his definition of reality? Was there darkness enough in him that the darkside had been able to hire him to work the segue as well as the original mall?

Usinghire in the broadest sense of the word.

“Fuck, he’s coming this way!”

He was. Then he paused and turned and stared into the shadows where Arthur’s army was hiding.

Trying to hide.

There were too many of them for the nooks and crannies of the concourse to hold, so they stood and silently watched the old man approach. As the beam of light swept up, three of the skateboarders sped out from under the stairs.

Drawing his fire.

As she watched them cut the concourse into wild patterns, staying inches ahead of the light, she realized, for the first time, that the good guys might stand a chance. This was their mall now and although they were going to take on the darkside with skateboards and baseball bats, they believed they could do it. On the Otherside, belief was everything.

Two of the boarders went over the beam. The third went under.

Now,she believed they could do it.

Given who she was and where they were, that might be enough.

And it might not, but the point is they’re farther ahead than they were…oh no.

Someone zigged when he should have zagged. Golden hair blazed out under the edge of the helmet as the light caught one of the elves, holding him in place six inches off the end of the metal bench. Stewart. Half a heartbeat later, both Stewart and the old man were gone.

“Where…?”

“We think he’ll go back to the other mall.” Kith sounded very young as she stepped out of the shadows. “But we don’t know for sure.”

Across the concourse, Arthur’s army began to move out.

Claire looked for Sam but couldn’t see him in the crowd. She did see Jo raise her bat to the place Stewart disappeared. From the look on her face, the security guard should thank any gods willing to listen that hewasn’t in this reality and that Jo could never cross back.

But I can.

Claire added another note to her mental to-do list—afterrescue Diana andsave the world but beforepick up dry cleaning.

“Come on.” A hand on skinny shoulders got her escort’s attention. “Let’s do this.”

*

IT BEGINS.

The declaration jerked Diana up out of her slump, spilling Kris’ head off her shoulder. “What does?”

WHAT DO YOU THINK?IT!

“Right.” It. The battle. Her diversion. She shuffled around toward Kris, using the motion to cover an attempt to move the wand a little farther up her leg. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah, fuckin’ great. I wasn’t asleep.”

“Okay.”

“I was just…you know.”

Looking for an excuse to cuddle. Diana grinned.“Okay.”

Kris flipped her dreads back off her face and sighed.“You have to sound so smug?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Keeping her back against the wall of the cavern, she got to her feet and held a hand down to the elf.

“So this where all Hell breaks loose?”

Someone had to say it, Diana reminded herself. It wasn’t exactly a Rule. Some things didn’t have to be. “Not yet.”

With any luck, not ever.

Leaning out around the quartet of meat-minds left to guard them, she watched as the Shadowlord came into the cavern—not walking,striding, and being pretty da…darned obvious about it, too. Over the whole black-on-black wardrobe, he was wearing greaves, vambraces, and a polished breastplate. Also in black. He pulled his sword—not black, Diana was happy to note, although it wasn’t like he hadn’t already beat the theme to death—and knelt by the edge of the pit.

“Is it time?”

IT IS. ARE YOU READY?

“I am.”

“Who writes their dialogue,” Kris muttered as the Shadowlord stood, his blade lifted in salute.

Diana had a witty comeback ready, but it slipped off her tongue. The Shadowlord’s hair, definitely blond on all other occasions, was looking more than just a little red. It might have been reflected light from the pit, but she had a horrible feeling he was about to earn a name.

Given who he’ll be fighting, three guesses as to whatname and the first two don’t count.

*

Sam trotted along at Arthur’s heels, vaguely aware that this wasn’t the first time he’d gone to war—Angels being soldiers of the Lord and all that. He just wished he could remember more of his life before he became a cat. Well, he remembered the few days he’d been essentially a human teenage male, but since that had mostly involved being confused, hungry, and obsessed with genitalia, it wasn’t a lot of help.

He would rather have been with Claire, rescuing Diana. He would rather have beenwith Diana right from the start, but no one ever listened to him.

This made his ability to stop Arthur from doing a little one-on-one whacking with the Big Bad just a little suspect. The access to higher knowledge he retained in this form was no help at all.

So.

What would Austin do?

“The trick in getting them to listen is making sure you’ve got their attention before you start.”

“But how?”

Austin stretched out a front leg and flexed the paw. His claws sank a quarter inch into the sofa cushion.“Use your imagination, kid. That’s what it’s there for.”

Well, if a cat could look at a king, he supposed it was only a small step from there to leaving scars. Feeling more confident, he began memorizing the places Arthur’s padding didn’t quite cover. Just in case things got unpleasant.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_5]

“Did you have a pleasant time at the shopping mall, Dean?” Meryat’s voice was low and musical, her movements graceful, even considering she was still more than half corpse.

Dr. Rebik stared at her in open-mouthed fascination.

Dean stared in horror.

Austin seemed to have disappeared.

“You seem to have done some shopping,” she continued, her eyes following the movements of the hockey bag. “Is it another kitty?” Her arm whipped forward with snakelike speed and one finger poked the canvas. The answering squawk was more indignant than pained. “No, not a kitty. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d bought yourself a chicken.”

Dean really didn’t like the way she’d emphasizedIf I didn’t know better…His grip tightened around the straps of the bag, the wrapped canvas growing damp under his fingers.

“Why don’t you show me?”

Okay. He thrust the bag toward her. Austin’s plan had involved getting Dr. Rebik out of their room, leaving the bag outside the door for her to find, assuming she’d go after the life force of whatever was in it. She’d drag it inside, and open it, never suspecting a Bystander capable of delivering a mythological creature capable of turning her to stone. The threat of life sucking would be over and the basilisk would be safely contained until Claire came home.

Still, as long as he closed his eyes and got Dr. Rebik to close his eyesand assumed that Austin was somewhere safe, this should do as plan B. Given that the basilisk had been hiding out in a shopping mall with minimal statuary happening, it clearly preferred hiding over stoning. Stoneage. Turning people to stone.

Meryat pushed the bag back toward him.“You open it.”

That would make things a little trickier.

Meryat was a foot shorter than he was, slim, and not entirely alive. If he shoved her out of his way, could she stop him? If he shoved her into the wall, was she still brittle enough to break?

“You can’t, you know.”

Dean swallowed and found his voice.“I can’t what, then?”

“Just charge past me.” His eyes widened and she smiled. “No, I’m not reading your mind; I’m reading your face. Everything you’re thinking, everything you’re feeling is right out there.”

“You don’t ever hit someone smaller than you.”

“What about Brad Mackenzie? He’s smaller than me, but he’s plays for St. Pat’s, and if I don’t hit him, we’ll…”

His grandfather sighed.“All right, fine. You don’t ever hit someone smaller than you unless they’re wearing hockey skates.”

From the way Meryat was smiling, that had shown on his face, too. He was some screwed because he’d never get her into hockey skates.

“Every hero needs a fatal flaw. Now, for the last time, Dean, open the bag.”

“And what if I’m after saying no?”

“Then I’ll suck my darling Dr. Rebik dry, right in front of you.” A gesture brought the archeologist around to her side. She slid a slender arm through his and smiled. “Your choice.”

Dean set the hockey bag down on the kitchen counter and began fumbling with the zipper.“She’s killing you, you know!”

Dr. Rebik matched Meryat’s smile. “I die of love.”

“Yeah, right…” The bit of basilisk he’d caught back in the food court was jamming the zipper closed. If he kept his eyes shut…

Would Claire be able to fix him if he was turned to stone?

If she couldn’t, would she put him out in the garden?

Would pigeons shit on his head?

It’d be sea gulls back home, so he supposed pigeons would be an improvement.

“Are you stalling, Dean?”

Dr. Rebik moaned low in his throat and a patch of hair fell out, slid down the curve of his head and off his bowed shoulder to the floor.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” he cried, yanking at the zipper and fighting the urge to go for the whisk broom and dustpan. “It’s stuck!”

“I see. We’ll just have to…”

Out in the office, the phone rang.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m after answering…”

“No.”

“But this is a business,” Dean protested indignantly. “You can’t be letting the phone ring!”

“I can and I will.”

Four rings. Five. Six.

The machine should have picked up on five. As it didn’t…“Look, it’s Claire’s mum. As long as there’s someone here, it won’t stop ringing.”

Meryat frowned thoughtfully.“Is the Keeper’s mother also a Keeper?”

“No!”

Seven rings. Eight.

The frown lines deepened with a faint crinkling sound.“Then how does she know there’s someone here?”

“Claire’s her daughter!” Which was the absolute truth. Maybe not the whole truth but the truth, so with any luck at all, that whole lousy lying thing wouldn’t come into it.

Nine rings. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

“This grows very annoying. Go!” A fingernail flew off with the expansive force of her gesture. “Answer it!”

Dean took two grateful steps toward the office.

“Mr. McIssac, aren’t you forgetting something?”

Biting back a curse, he returned for the hockey bag.

Thirteen rings. Fourteen. Fifteen.

Closely followed by Meryat and Dr. Rebik—too closely followed as far as Dean was concerned—he set the bag on the desk and reached for the phone.

Sixteen.

“Elysian Fields Guest House.”

“Dean, it’s Martha Hansen. I’ve got this terrible feeling that the girls are in trouble. Not that the girls being in trouble is ever a good feeling, but this is remarkably strong considering that they’re still on the Otherside and I’m worried. You haven’t heard from them, have you? That’s not why you were so long answering?”

“Uh, no, it’s not.” He had no idea what, if anything a Cousin could do over the phone, but this was his one chance to get help. “You just called at a bad time. There’s…”

“…no need for further explanations,” Meryat said as Dr. Rebik’s shaking finger came down on the disconnect. “The noise has been stopped, and we have business to conclude.” She glanced around the office, and her eyes narrowed. “Although this is not the best place; we could be interrupted, and that has already happened once too often.”

Dean suddenly realized she wasn’t talking about the phone. “Lance.”

“Yes. When my binding came undone, he was partially caught by my counterspell. It seems to have unbalanced him.”

“He’s not Australian,” Dr. Rebik announced calmly.

Meryat rolled her eyes.“He might as well be. Now then, I think we’ll take this someplace more private.” Her gaze traveled slowly down the length of Dean’s body and he shuddered. Before Claire and he had…created an angel, he’d never noticed that sort of thing. After, he realized—to his intense embarrassment—it had happened a lot. “Let’s go to your bedroom.”

Suddenly, being a statue didn’t look like such a bad future.

He only hoped Claire remembered to dust him.

*

Claire stifled a sneeze against her shoulder unable to believe the amount of dust in the dropped ceiling. She stopped herself from wondering where it came from before the Otherside provided an answer, and concentrated on crawling after Teemo’s narrow backside.

Fortunately, Diana had already taken this route, so she didn’t need to worry about securing its reality.

The drop down into the bathroom was a little farther than she was comfortable with. One foot slid off the edge of the soap dispenser and into the sink, but Kith steadied her as she landed, averting disaster with a steady grip above both knees.

The room smelled of cleaners and disinfectants, and all at once she missed Dean so badly it was like a physical ache. In fact, it wasn’tlike a physical ache at all. It was a physical ache. Austin would do what he could, but a reanimated mummy was a just a little beyond what snark and sympathy could hope to deal with.

She had to defeat the darkside and return to them before it was too late. Or get Lance to them if that was all she could manage.

Save the world.

Save Diana.

Save Dean.

At least this time, there’d be no nasty surprises in the final inning.

And that was an unprovoked sports metaphor. Even her subconscious missed Dean. At one time, she’d thought maintaining a relationship would be a distraction. It wasn’t, it was a goal. Something she could use as incentive to charge right through the worst the possibilities could offer.

Memo to self, she sighed, following Kith and Teemo out into the hall,watch a little less Oprah with the cat.

They were almost to the food court when a rumble of thunder flattened them back against the wall, Teemo raising an unnecessary finger to his lips.

No. Not thunder. Meat-minds. A whole herd of them pounding purposefully past the food court in ranks that were more or less even. Claire thought very hard about saving the world; thinking about how clumsy they looked would only set up a chain reaction of vaudevillian proportions and give away their position.

Bringing up the rear between four meat-minds more defined than the rest was a vaguely familiar warrior dressed and armored all in black. His skin was milk pale and his hair a deep red. Really red. Blood red. Bad fantasy clich? red.

That couldn’t be good. Claire sent a silent plea that Sam remembered what he had to do.

On the bright side, if their leader had taken the field, both Diana and the segue would be minimally guarded. Pulling Kith and Teemo closer, she whispered,“From here, I go on alone.”

“No way, Keeper. Arthur…”

“…is going to need you. You saw the size of the army he’s facing; pull some weapons from that sporting goods store, and attack from the rear. Remember, as soon as I shut down the segue, the meat-minds will fall apart, so you don’t have to win so much as you have to not lose.”

“What?”

Okay. That hadn’t made a lot of sense to her either. “Look, I usually work alone. I clearly suck at motivational speaking. Just be careful.” She put a hand on each of their shoulders, squeezed lightly, then turned and raced down the hall toward the Emporium.

They hadn’t come through the store. The plywood construction barricade was gone; in its place was a dark tunnel leading down under the mall.

Only one meat-mind on guard.

He saw her, turned, and, because she believed he would, tripped over his own feet.

Getting past him was as easy as dropping a marble on his head.

The passage ended in what was obviously a throne room. Kicking through bits of shattered chitin, Claire approached the dais where she found, amid the broken insect bits, a tampon lying crushed and forgotten.

Diana.

She paused and quickly checked her memory of the charging meat-mind army. Well, the odds were very good it was Diana’s anyway.

A few scorch marks against the polished stone showed where preset possibilities had been destroyed. None of them looked large enough or scorched enough to have been the wand.

Then there was a chance Diana still had it.

Definitely a good news/bad news scenario.

Only one exit from the throne room. A stone corridor leading even farther down. The moment she stepped into it, Claire felt a familiar pull.

Running as quietly as she could under the flickering torches, Claire hurried toward it. This wasn’t her Summoning. She shouldn’t be feeling a pull, familiar or otherwise.

It was possible that she was sensing Diana’s presence by the segue.

But she didn’t think so.

FOURTEEN

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

DIANA COULD FEEL THE POWER FLUCTUATIONS. They filled the cavern, rippling from side to side, up and down, raising all the hair on her body. Not exactly a pleasant feeling. They were strong enough that she suspected she could see them if she just unfocused her eyes the right way.

The good news was they weren’t all coming from the pit.

Most, but not all.

Some of them were coming from her.

Some from outside the cavern.

She felt it the moment the armies joined. Felt it as the weight of Hell’s attention grew lighter. Soon.

Only one small problem.

She stood, stretched, and beckoned for Kris to join her.“There’s a few thing I’d like to do before we die.”

Which was the absolute truth and always the best way to deal with Hell. No point playing in its court.

I’M SURE THERE ARE, Hell snarked as Kris put her hand in Diana’s and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. BUT YOU CAN’T DESTROY ME, AND IF YOU TRY, I WILL MAKE YOU VERY VERY SORRY. I NEED YOU ALIVE AS BAIT, BUT I DO NOT NEED YOU UNHARMED.

Hands on Kris’ hips, Diana snorted in the general direction of the pit. “It’s not always about you, dude.”

The kiss had a touch of desperation about it—the odds were extremely good this would be one of their last, after all—and things heated up a little past the point where brain cells started to fry. Somehow, Diana managed to keep a small fraction of her mind on something other than the way Kris’ lips felt under hers and got them turned around until the mall elf’s body was between hers and the pit. Chewing along her jaw, Diana sucked the lobe of a pointed ear into her mouth and murmured, “Slide your hand down the back of my pants!”

And let’s hear it for enthusiasm.

“Farther…oh, yeah…no…down the leg.” Diana squelched a sudden desire to giggle at what sounded like bad porn dialogue. “The other leg.”

As Kris’ fingers touched the top of the wand, she stiffened, suddenly realizing what this was about. From the way she began to pull back, she wasn’t entirely happy about it either.

Diana tightened her grip and yanked their bodies into even closer contact. Licking her way around the inner curve of Kris’ ear, she sighed, “If I survive this, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Kris’ answer was an emphatic wriggle.

Probably trying to get a better grip on the wand.

Probably…

She could feel the wand begin to move up her thigh, toward her waistband and couldn’t resist. “Oh, yes! Yes! That’s it!”

OH, FOR…GET A ROOM!

*

Staying close to Arthur wasn’t easy. The Immortal King moved through the battle with archetypal skills and the flexibility of a teenager. Sam did the best he could, and if he took a few detours to avoid being pounded into marmalade-colored kitty paste, well, he figured he was entitled. Squashed flat was not a good defensiveposition.

The trick was to see the pattern of the battle and then become a part of it.

The trouble was that his part of the pattern took him across the concourse at the same time Arthur’s brought him face-to-face with the tall redhead in the so clich? black armor. Who was very definitely not a meat-mind. And who looked vaguely familiar.

The hair rose along Sam’s spine.

He leaped a fallen elf and darted between two massive legs. He had to get to Arthur before…

“What say you? Your sword against mine. Let us leave the young and the stupid out of what we both know is our battle.” The redhead’s voice filled a lull in the fighting; everyone froze for a heartbeat, then dark and light turned to face the middle of the concourse.

Sam raced up and over a planter and found himself peddling air as Will grabbed him and clutched him tight against his hockey jersey.

“Put me down!”

“Shhh, it’s a challenge.”

“I know it’s a challenge! I have to…”

“You have to wait,” Will said, cutting him off. “When a challenge has been made, everything stops until it’s been answered.”

The mall elf didn’t add that it was a Rule, but then, he didn’t have to. Sam could feel the Rule holding elves and meat-minds both in place. Fortunately, he was neither.

“Put me down, or I’ll add a few new piercings to your nose.”

“What?”

A claw hooked into the inside of Will’s left nostril.

“Right.”

And Sam was back on the floor.

“So, do you accept my challenge?”

Arthur’s back was to him. Sam had no way of knowing what his answer would be, but something in the redhead’s pale eyes suggested he was about to get the response he desired. Too far away to stop Arthur from speaking, Sam did the only thing he could. “I accept!”

Everyone blinked in unison.

The redhead recovered first.“I was not speaking to you, cat.”

“Should’ve been more specific, then.” Sam walked out into the open space between the two, sat down, and washed his shoulder.

Arthur shook himself and took his eyes off the redhead for the first time since the battle had brought them face to face.“Sam, you can’t…”

“And I won’t!” the redhead snorted.

“I can and you will.” Sam stood and stretched, butt in the air. “The challenge has been made and answered. You can deal with him…” A jerk of his head toward Arthur. “…later, but the Rules say you have to deal with me first.”

“The Rules…”

“You break them, we get to break them. Up to you, crud for brains, but you know who’s here and you know what she’s able to do if you give her the chance.”

The redhead frowned and suddenly squatted, peering into Sam’s face. “I get the feeling we have fought before, you and I. A long time ago, before all…” His gesture managed to encompass the elves, the meat-minds, the mall, Arthur, and their own bodies. “…this.”

“Well, at least one of us has come up in the world,” Sam snorted. “We gonna fight, or were you planning on talking me to death.”

“When I kill you,” the redhead purred, straightening, “I will have my name. I will use the subsequent death of the Immortal King to gain the kind of power that will cause whole kingdoms to tremble before me!”

“Subsequent death? You pick up that word-of-the-day toilet paper at the Emporium?”

“No, at the stationery shop.”

“Ah.”

“Sam.” Arthur stepped forward, Excalibur a gleaming silver line across his body. “I can’t let you do this.”

“You have no choice,” the redhead snarled, shifted his weight, and swung.

Sam leaped left. Then right. Then left. Then up and over another planter.

“Damn it, cat! Hold still!”

“You think I’m going to hold still becauseyou want me to?” Sam ricocheted off a meat-mind and folded back on himself. “You’re not only evil,” he snorted, raking his claws across the redhead’s wrist as he rocketed by, “you’re not too bright….”

*

“You, turn on the lights.” As Dr. Rebik stretched a palsied hand toward the switch, Meryat sat down on the edge of the bed. “You, put the bag on the floor and open it.”

“I don’t think,” Dean began, searching for a protest that would carry some weight.

“Good. You’re not supposed to think. You’re supposed to do as I say.” She smiled and brushed dry, brittle hair back off her face with fingertips that were still a little black. “So what did I say?”

“Put the bag on the floor.”

“Do it.” Her hand closed around Dr. Rebik’s arm. “Or have you forgotten the consequences? He dies, and it’s all your fault.”

There had to be a way out of this. There had to be. Unfortunately, Dean had no idea of what it was. Coming up with a last minute solution wasn’t in his job description. Run the guesthouse. No problem. Anchor Claire in the real world. Got it covered. Get a high enough gloss on the dining room table that he could stop nagging about coasters. Almost there. He even did windows. Pull a brilliant plan out of nowhere just as things were aboutto land in the crapper—not likely.

Where was Austin? The wardrobe door was open about six inches. Was he inside? Waiting for the perfect moment?

Dean set the writhing bag on the floor.

Meryat smiled. He really wished she’d stop doing that—although all things considered, her teeth were remarkably good. “Open it.”

Austin needed to hurry it up. They were rapidly running out of perfect moments.

Dean dropped to one knee—the last thing he wanted was to be bending over the bag as the basilisk emerged—closed his eyes, and yanked the zipper open.

The scream of an enraged cat filled all the empty spaces in the room. Adrenaline surged through Dean’s body demanding flight or fight and getting neither. He jerked his eyes open in time to see a scaled tail disappear into the wardrobe.

Austin leaped from chair, to dresser, to the top of the wardrobe and sat there looking smug.“The half with the brain is a chicken,” he said.

“You do realize that a basilisk would have no effect on me,” Meryat murmured conversationally.

“Obviously not,” Austin purred in much the same tone.

“But since there’s one available, I was thinking that turning Dean here to stone would reverberate through their bond and bring the Keeper racing back believing she was about to face a basilisk.”

“Whereas sucking Dean dry would bring her back prepared to face you.”

“Exactly. While she’s dealing with the lesser threat, I will…”

“…suck her dry and regain youth, beauty, and power in one fell swoop.”

“What a smart kitty you are. I think the Keeper might missyou more. Get down from there.”

“Or you’ll what?” Austin snorted. “Suck Dean dry? You’re going to do that anyway. Kill Dr. Rebik? Talk to someone who cares.”

“I see cats haven’t changed much in three thousand years.”

He looked seriously affronted.“Why should we?”

“Excellent point. All right, if you won’t cooperate, I suppose I’ll have to return to my original plan. Dean, get the creature out of the wardrobe. Try to pick an attractive pose; you’ll be holding it for very long time.”

Turned to stone, he’d have a chance at being turned back when Claire kicked mummy butt. With his life sucked out…Dean glanced back at Dr. Rebik who seemed to have fallen asleep propped up against the wall. He stood and headed for the wardrobe where he found seventeen pairs of shoes, a crumpled pile of Claire’s clothes…

“What are you doing?” Meryat demanded.

“Hanging things up.”

“Well, stop it!”

…but no basilisk.

The wardrobe was Claire’s usual access to the Otherside. He’d used it himself once, following the path Claire had laid down. But this time, Claire’d crossed over in the mall, so no path. No escape for him. Apparently, basilisks were mythological enough to make their own way over. Dean pressed his hand flat against the back wall, the wood rough and reassuring under his palm.That’s it, Lassie…Collies. Basilisks. Whatever.…bring back help.

*

Oh, Hel…p. Claire stood at the entrance to a huge circular cavern and stared at the pit in the middle of it. No wonder the power fluctuations seemed so familiar.Been there. Done that. Should’ve got the T-shirt.

Not a segue, a hole. A hole capped only by an incomplete segue. The moment the segue was finished, Hell itself would have unlimited access to four acres of suburban Kingston. Which wasnot a redundant observation, no matter how much Claire hated the suburbs.

The problem was: how did she close a hole to Hell without access to the possibilities? Marbles and spices were not going to be enough.

The wand.

If Diana still had it, it was their only chance.

If.

Belief in this instance would accomplish nothing, but as it would do no harm, Claire decided to believe, with all her heart, that Diana had the wand.

She leaned a little farther around the edge of the cavern entrance and finally spotted her sister by the side wall. Not injured. Not even confined. Her hands were wrapped around various bits of Kris and Kris’ hand were…actually, Claire couldn’t see what Kris’ hands were doing, but the result seemed to be a fair bit of wiggling. Neither of them seemed too upset by their captivity.

TEENAGERS, Hell sighed. If the pit had eyes, they’d have been rolling.

The groping had to be part of Diana’s plan.

Forcing Hell to underestimate her.

Lulling Hell into a false sense of security.

Convincing Hell there would be no attack.

Of course, there was always the possibility that Hell was right and, when faced with their imminent death, the two girls had decided to get in one last…

No.

At the very least, they were creating a distraction. She’d have never gotten this close unchallenged had the darkside been paying attention.

Time to return the favor.

The cayenne pepper in one hand, a marble in the other, Claire sprinted for the edge of the pit.

She made it about two thirds of the way.

*

One of the wand’s points had snagged on the inside of Diana’s black stretch pants and wriggling didn’t seem to be freeing it.

“Harder!” she growled, her mouth against Kris’ ear.

“I don’t want to hurt you!”

“I can take it!”

OKAY, UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES, I HAVE TO SAY THAT THIS IS INAPPROPRIATE BEHA…AH!

Between one heartbeat and the next, Diana felt the power fluctuations stop and the cavern fill with a grid of dark bands. She saw Claire snatched up into the air and held writhing. She heard Hell begin to laugh.

Then the wand ripped free.

She met Claire’s eyes.

Said a silent good-bye.

And shoved Kris out of the way.

With its pink star pointed toward the pit, the wand bucked in Diana’s hand like a living thing, fighting to find the possibilities through the power of Hell.

Hell’s first attack slammed her to her knees. The pain of impact almost broke her concentration, but four years of enforced PE lent her strength. If she could work through the pain of field hockey, she could work through this.

Had to work through this.

She touched the edges of the possibilities.

Not enough.

Hell’s second attack slid shadows through her mind.

THEY WILL PAY FOR EVERY MOMENT YOU FIGHT ME!

Images of Claire, of Kris, of her parents, of Sam broken and bleeding.

*

With Hell’s attention split, Claire managed to open her hand although she broke a finger doing it. The marble rolled from her palm, fell too slowly to the stone, and shattered.

*

Brilliant white light burned the shadows away.

It only lasted for an instant.

It lasted just long enough.

Free of the darkness, Diana touched the possibilities and threw herself open to them. No fear. No doubt. No regrets.

This had been her Summoning not because she was closest but because she was youngest and most powerful.

All that she was.

The end of the wand erupted. Streams of pink luminescence sizzled and danced their way down into the pit.

NO!

Diana reluctantly admitted to a brief moment of sympathy—itwas disturbingly pink.

Then the pink began to mute as lines of gray snaked up from the pit, twisting and spiraling around the light toward the wand. Toward her hand. Toward her heart.

HA! NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

Blood in her mouth. The taste of iron. Her vision began to blur.

“Get…stuffed.”

Her Summoning because she was youngest and nothing but possibilities.

All that she would be.

Bubble gum pink. Barbie pink.

The scent of brimstone disappeared. The flickering red light against the cavern’s roof began to brighten.

The pit began to fill with glittering, gleaming, shimmering, incandescent pink.

Diana could no longer tell where her hand stopped and the wand began. At the edge of her vision, she saw Claire fall, missed her impact with the floor, but saw the remaining shadows given form. Had to trust her sister would stop them. At this point, she could no more stop the flow of possibilities than Hell could.

She didn’t realize she was moving until her toes stubbed hard against the edge of the pit.

IF I GO, YOU GO WITH ME!

Well, duh.

All she was, all she would be, given to save the world. How hard was that to understand? It was, after all, what Keepersdid. Evil had a distinct tendency to keep missing the obvious.

She wasn’t so much falling forward as moving through the wand.

And then…

…falling back.

She saw Kris poised on the edge of the pit, the wand raised in a defiant fist.

Saw her totter.

Saw her fall.

Pink light filled the cavern.

When Diana could see again, the pit was closed.

Someone, she thought it might be her, threw themselves forward, pounded bloody fists against solid rock, and screamed“No!”

There were Rules to follow, after all.

*

The problem was, Sam couldn’t just run. The Rules said he had to engage in battle or he wasn’t actually answering the challenge. The problem was, although he hadmore pointy bits, he was fighting a Shadowlord with a great big sword.

He zigged.

The Shadowlord zagged.

A great big swordand opposable thumbs.

Dangling by the scruff of his neck, Sam struggled to fold himself in half and get a claw into the hand holding him. Shrieking defiance, he felt the sword begin to descend.

Flash of silver.

He felt the impact reverberate through fingers buried painfully deep in his fur. Hissed and spat as he was thrown aside.

Twisting in the air, he landed on his feet. Tail lashing, singing his challenge, he spun around.

“Let it go, Sam. I am permitted to intervene at the last instant in order to save the life of my champion.” Arthur stared over his blade at the Shadowlord. “Let’s get it on.” When his opponent looked confused, he sighed and translated. “It’s our fight now.”

Not quite human teeth flashed in a brilliant smile.“I have always killed you.”

“Yeah, yeah. That was then.”

“Fear me.”

“Bite me.”

Sam had to admit the dialogue was less than archetypal. Maybe, hopefully,possibly that would be enough.

Or not.

As swords clashed overhead, hilt caught on hilt, body slammed against body. Eight inches from the floor, his angle unique, Sam saw the Shadowlord pull the dagger from his belt. Saw a black-clad elbow pull back. Slam forward.

My bad.

His failure.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Then the world turned pink.

Really, really,really pink.

When he could see again, the Shadowlord had vanished and Arthur was standing with Excalibur over his head, hips canted back, staring down at a hole in his chest protector.

The circle of mall elves seemed frozen in place as Sam crept forward.“Are you…? Did he…?”

Holding his position, moving only his left arm, Arthur slid a finger into the rent.

Pulled it out again.

The tip was red.

A strangled cry from a dozen throats.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Excalibur’s point clanged against the tiles, as Arthur relaxed. “He barely pricked me.”

They were all still too close to the edge for cheers.

Then someone sighed,“Close one, dude.”

In the joyful chaos that followed, Sam lifted his tail and sprayed the place where the Shadowlord had been standing.

*

“Enough of this!” Meryat rose from the edge of the bed and locked Dean in place with a pointed finger. “These games no longer amuse me. I will take your lifenow and face your Keeper stronger because of it!”

“Not so fast.” Austin crouched at the edge of the wardrobe and stared down at the mummy/Dean tableau. “If I’m not mistaken, which I’m not, so don’t go there, the Rules state you, as the villain of the piece, have to brag about how you defeated us before you administer the coup de grace.That’s the finishing stroke,” he added for Dean’s benefit.

Dean’s expression suggested he didn’t appreciate the translation.

“The point is,” Meryat sneered, the missing piece of her lip adding further scorn to her expression, “you havebeen defeated. What difference will bragging about it make?”

Austin shrugged.“Well, I personally could care less, but if you break the Rules, we get to break the Rules.”

“You? What can you do?”

He licked his shoulder at her.

“Fine! I’ve waited three thousand years; I can wait a few more minutes.”

FIFTEEN

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

“COME ON, DIANA, you’ve got to run. This whole place is coming down!”

Diana twisted free of Claire’s grip and headed back toward the center of the cavern. “We’ve got to get her out!”

“We can’t.” Claire hooked her fingers into the waistband of Diana’s pants and yanked her to a stop. “You know as well as I do that there’s a hundred ways to go to Hell—hand baskets, good intentions—but we can’t use any of them if we’ve been crushed under a pile of…” She threw herself sideways, taking Diana with her as a piece of the cavern ceiling crashed down. “…rock.”

Considering where they were, the light bulb wasn’t entirely unexpected. Claire batted it out of the way with her good hand as Diana surged up onto her feet.

“We’ll go after her!”

“Yes, but…”

“But nothing.” Diana’s hand closed around her wrist and yanked her up. “Let’s move!”

It seemed that their presence alone had been maintaining what little stability the cavern still had. As they crossed the threshold, the rest of the ceiling crashed down. Coughing and choking in the billowing clouds of faintly pink stone dust, they ran faster, the tunnels collapsing behind them.

Which is certainly better than in front of us, Claire acknowledged as they raced toward the throne room…

…only to find the entrance blocked.

“Is there another way out?” Mouth close to Diana’s ear, she still had to shout to be heard over the roar of falling rock.

“This is the only oneI know!”

“Oh that’s just great!” One-handedly fighting the zipper on the belt pouch open, she found Diana there before her. “What are you doing?”

“If we don’t get out, we can’t save Kris. So we’re getting out!” Snatching out the folded piece of paper, Diana knelt and stuffed it between two of the rocks that blocked the door.

“Diana, that won’t work! Rocks can’t read!”

“I’ll read it for them.” Yanking Claire out of the way, she pointed back toward the oncoming destruction and yelled, “Move!”

The paper released the possibilities it held.

The rocks moved.

They moved as though they knew full well they’d be pounded to sand if they didn’t.

The black marble floor had cracked and buckled and the wall behind the throne had canted inward at an impossible angle, but structural integrity was being maintained. Provided the definition of both structural and integrity was less than precise.

And then, lungs burning, they were running on concrete, not stone.

Almost out…

They missed the turn that would have taken them through the construction zone and found themselves in the access corridors instead.

The troll was waiting at the back door of the Emporium.

Before Claire could stop her, Diana grabbed him by the tie and shoved her face up into his, snarling,“Your choice, Gaston! The Otherside’s a big place. You can lose yourself in it, or you can deal with me.”

His eyes widened, showing pale yellow all around the gray.“But…”

“Billy goatsbut as you very well know. I’m counting to three. One…”

On two, he chose to leave the tie in her hand and pound farther up the access corridor into the mall.

Diana dropped the piece of pale leather and swiped her hand against her thigh, moisture drawing darker lines through the pale pink dust.“Eww.”

“Definitely,” Claire agreed, using the moment to catch her breath. Not the way she’d have handled it, but since it worked…“What are you doing?”

“This is where we came in. This is the best place to cross back!”

Bad hand cradled against her chest, she stepped between her sister and the steel door.“We’re not done.”

“The Summoning ended when that hole closed;I’m done!” Dark brows drew in, their challenge plain. “AndI’m going after Kris!”

Claire had her choice of half a dozen good arguments. She used the only one that would work.“What about Sam? He’s still in the mall. I left him guarding Arthur.”

“You left him,” Diana snapped. “You go…you…” She blinked. Swallowed. Scrubbed her hand across suddenly wet eyes. “Sorry. I just…”

“I know.”

“Youcan’t know.”

“Dean…”

“Didn’t go to Hell foryou! I’m sorry.” She scrubbed at her eyes again. “But he didn’t.”

“I know,” Claire said again, because it was pretty much the only thing Diana was willing to hear at the moment. She jerked open the steel door with her good hand. “Let’s go get Sa—” A crack opened suddenly in the concrete floor. Somewhere, not very far away, a steel reinforcing rod snapped with an almost musical twang. “Not good!” Shoving Diana into the storeroom, she slammed the door shut with her shoulder and locked it.

It sounded like someone was playing a steel guitar in the access corridor. Playing it badly.

“How far do you think the destruction will come?” Diana demanded as they charged through shards of broken garden gnomes toward the store.

“It’s already come farther than I thought it would.”

“Great.”

“Not really. I was wondering, last time you used the wand, it knocked you flat. This time…”

“I think Kris’ sacrifice caused a backlash. I got—I don’t know—refilled. I’m feeling…” Diana flashed half a pain-filled grin and straight-armed the door out into the Emporium. “…in the pink.”

Claire managed a nearly identical smile.“We’ll get her back.”

“I know.” Easily clearing the fallen T-shirt rack, Diana lengthened her stride and raced for the concourse. One foot out the door, she stopped, turned, and ran back.

“Where are you going?” Claire figured she had grounds for sounding shrill. From behind them, one small room away, came the unmistakable sound of a steel door buckling.

“Promises to keep.” Dragging a wooden crate of resin frogs under the antique mirror, she climbed up, and slapped the glass. “Jack! Hey! Time to go.”

The blue-on-blue eyes popped into view so fast they came accompanied by a faintboing.“The whole place is falling apart!” Jack also sounded a little shrill, Claire noted. “What did you do?”

A green glass ball fell from a shelf and shattered. Something hissed and scuttled away.

“We won. Sort of.”

“How do yousort of win?”

“I don’t want to get into that right now.”

“Yeah, but…”

A muscle jumped in Diana’s jaw. “I said, Idon’t want to get into it.” She ducked her head behind the edge of the frame. “Is this all that’s holding you on?”

“How should I know?” Shrill had given way to slightly panicked. “I don’t have eyes in the back of my glass.”

“Fair point. Claire…”

No time to argue. Claire reached up, noted somewhat absently that much of her left hand seemed to be purple, and grabbed the lower edge of the carved and gilded wood.“I’ve got it.”

Jack was a lot heavier than he looked. They dragged him past the writhing box of rubber snakes, past the toppling display of scented candles, and reached the concourse just as the windows started to shatter. As the first triangular piece of glass whistled past, Claire spun him around, his back to the store, and pushed Diana down behind him.

“Claire, we haven’t time…!”

“To get cut to ribbons? You’re right.”

“Hey!” Jack’s eyes were as wide as Claire’d seen them. “Get me farther away! I’m breakable here!”

Barely enough room for them both but barely was better than the alternative.“Calm down. You’ve got a wooden backing.”

“Calm down? That’s glass breaking! Lots and lots of breaking glass! Do you know how that makes me feel?”

“Do I care?” Claire snapped. As Jack’s eyes fled to the far corner, two tiny blue pinpricks deep in the glass, she sighed. “I’m sorry. I do care. We’ve just had a…bad time.”

“Sort of winning?”

“Yeah.”

Sort of…Diana lifted her head out of the shelter of her arms and stared into the mirror. She didn’t look any different. She should have looked different. Wasn’t that the sort of thing that changed a person?

It took her a moment to realize that the mall was totally silent. No more crashing. No more breaking. No more dying. Apparently, this was as far as it went.“Claire?” She almost didn’t recognize her voice. She sounded about seven. “Why did she do it?”

Carefully brushing aside broken glass, Claire sat down cross-legged on the floor. It wasn’t quite a collapse. “I don’t know. I guess she didn’t want you to die.”

“Yeah, but it’s part of the whole ‘saving the world’ thing. It’s in my job description. Our job description.”

“And it seems that saving you was in hers.”

“I didn’t want her to.”

“She didn’t ask you.” Claire reached out and wiped away a tear with her thumb. “We’ll get her back.”

“Because you promised?”

“Because it’s part of our job description.”

“Right.” Diana dragged her sleeve under her nose, leaving a smear of darker pink across one cheek. “Time to sit around and sob about things later! Let’s get Sam and…” She paused, half standing, and cocked her head. “Is there a reason you’re flipping me the finger?”

Swelling had moved the second finger on her left hand out from the rest.“It’s broken.”

“It’swhat?”

“Broken.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“When?”

“Before!”

“During our copious amounts of spare time? While we were running for our lives, saving Jack, or trying not to be julienned?”

“Yeah, then.”

“Sorry, next time. Don’t touch it!” She leaned back away from Diana’s questing fingers. “I’ll fix it as soon as we cross back.”

“Does it hurt?” Jack wondered, coming out to the front of the glass.

Did it hurt? There were a number of things Keepers weren’t permitted to say to Bystanders. But since Jack was a metaphysical construct…

“Diana!”

Claire closed her mouth, words unsaid, watched Sam race toward them, and sighed. Probably for the best.

*

“…and then, he just vanished!”

“You accepted a challenge from the Shadowlord?”

Sam squirmed around in Diana’s arms. “For the three hundredth time, I’m fine.”

“You could have been killed.”

“For the five hundredth time, I wasn’t!”

Continuing to ignore the post-fight metaphysical analysis going on around her, Diana buried her face in Sam’s fur and held on tight.

“Ow, that was a rib.”

“Sorry.” She loosened her hold just a little and drew in a deep breath of warm cat. He smelled like safety and comfort. Okay, scraping the clump of shed cat hair off her soft palate wasn’t exactly comfortable, but still…She didn’t know what she would have done if she’d lost him, too.

Too.

Right.

As they reached the stairs, the whole procession moving at the snail-like pace of the most seriously wounded elves, she tucked Sam back under one arm and grabbed Claire’s sleeve. “Let’s go.”

“Diana, you have no idea how much I wish we could. While you were gone, I found out that Dean is in danger of…”

“Overfeeding the cat? Stepping on a hairball? Austin’s with him, how much danger can he be in?”

They were facing off at the bottom of the stairs, Arthur’s army breaking into two streams around them. The two elves carrying Jack set him down and leaned on the top of his frame.

“There’s a three-thousand-year-old life-sucking mummy staying at the guest house.”

“A three-thousand-year-old life-sucking mummy?”

“Say that three thousand times fast,” Sam muttered.

“No.” Diana absently stroked a marmalade shoulder and frowned at her sister. “Since when?”

“Impossible to tell with the time distortions.”

“How did you…”

“Claire!”

Claire nodded toward the sunburned blond starting down through the climbing elves, her pack in one hand and Diana’s in the other, declaiming apologies with every step. “He told me.”

“Who’s he?”

“Lance.”

“A lot?”

Arthur stopped beside them and visibly shuddered.“Fortunately, no.”

“While you were gone,” Claire explained, “I went on a little tour of the Othersides and…”

“The Otherside’s what?”

“The Othersides plural. Long story.”

“Then skip it. You found him…?”

“At our beach.”

“The one in the guest house?”

“Yes. Longer story.”

“Skip it, too.”

“He’s not Australian,” Sam announced as Lance reached the lower concourse and set the packs down.

Diana looked confused.“Why would he be?”

The cat shrugged as well as his current position allowed.“I have no idea.”

“He’s a Bystander. Wait.” She raised a hand cutting off Lance and Claire together. “I don’t care why he’s here, but as he obviously can’t stay, we’ve got even more reason to leave immediately. He’s got to go back, Dean’s in danger, Kris is inHell—three strikes, let’s motor!”

Without the time to count to ten, Claire counted to three.“Believe me, Diana, Iwant to, but the injured elves are our responsibility.”

“No, they aren’t.” Diana nodded toward the Immortal King. “They’re his responsibility. We did our bit. The hole’s closed. The segue’s been disrupted, and without an anchor the two malls will continue to drift farther and farther apart. Street kids looking for a place to belong will have to look somewhere else—not necessarily a good thing but a thing.Our work here is done.”

Claire sighed, cradling her left hand in her right. The pain in her broken finger—which was now hurting up her arm, across her shoulders and into her right ear for reasons she wasn’t entirely clear on—made it difficult to concentrate, but Arthurwas alive, Hellhad been defeated, and the worldhad been saved from a shopping mall where midnight madness sales meant exactly that. However, while Diana had a point, she’d missed one as well. “Diana, Kris…”

“Now, Claire! Or are you tired of Dean already?”

Even the ambient noise of bells in elvish hair quieted. Lance opened his mouth. Arthur shook his head. He closed it again.

There were also a number of things Keepers didn’t say to other Keepers. Claire made a mental note to say most of them to her younger sister at a later time. “I’m going to allow for the stress you’re under,” she said quietly. “Pick a door.” Any door would take them back to the access corridor in the actual mall. The point of departure remained the point of return regardless. “Let’s go home.”

“Fine!” Pivoting on one heel, shifting Sam’s weight against her hip, ignoring the little voice that told her she’d gone too far, Diana scanned the lower concourse stores. “There, that kid’s store, the Rainbow Wardrobe. Nothing bad should come out of it.”

“How responsible of you.”

“Don’t patronize me!”

“Fine.” Claire turned toward Arthur. “The mall is no longer a segue, so we can come and go the same way we can from any other place on the Otherside. I’ll be back to check on things.”

The Immortal King glanced at Diana, his blue eyes sympathetic, then turned his gaze back to her. Less sympathy, more understanding, Claire noticed.“When?”

Her watch appeared to be keeping time to a rhumba beat.“Unfortunately, I have no idea.”

“Claire! Now, or I’m going without you!”

Under no circumstances was Claire allowing Diana back into the world unsupervised. Even standing right beside her, it would be hard enough to keep her from making a foolish attempt to rescue Kris the moment she could manipulate the possibilities—on the other side of reality, it would be impossible. Claire picked up her pack, wrapped her good hand around Lance’s arm, and hurried to join Diana at the store.

When the door flew open on its own, they stepped back together. Jumped back together. Fortunately, Lance was in hiking boots.

A sound spilled out first—like a terrified chicken being chased by a snake.

Dropping her grip on Lance, Claire shoved her hand into her belt pouch. She hadn’t closed the zipper after the throne room and for one, heart-stopping moment she thought it was empty. Then her fingers closed around a peppercorn. Enough? It had to be. Releasing the contained possibilities, she yelled, “Everyone close your eyes!” as something squawked and exploded out intothe lower concourse.

A moment.

Two.

Cats hunted by sound.“Sam?”

“I don’t hear it.”

“I can’t open my eyes!”

She signed and opened hers.“Yes, you can, Lance.”

“Oh, this is just great…” Diana would have thrown up her hands had she been willing to put Sam down. “…Hell’s gone, and this place makes even less sense. I don’t see the connection between a basilisk and a children’s st…”

“So you’re saying that while your body stayed in the room, your ka moved around sipping off bits of Dean’s life and spying on us?”

Austin’s voice ghosted out the open door.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I knew everything you had planned from the instant you planned it.”

“Meryat!”

Claire and Diana together grabbed Lance as he surged forward.

“Wardrobe-to-wardrobe connection?” Diana asked, brow furrowed, curiosity momentarily flattening the peaks of other emotions.

“Seems like.”

“I think that fulfills my part in this foolishness, cat. I have explained, I have gloated, now I will have what I want.”

The sound of a struggle.

“A valiant attempt, Dean. But you are mine.”

“I don’t think so, bitch!”

Diana’s eyes widened as her head snapped around toward her sister. “Claire!”

“Lance…” Claire yanked him free of Diana’s grip, her fingers dimpling his arm. Yanked him around to face her. “…can you stop Meryat?”

He pulled a roll of ancient linen out of his right front pocket with his free hand.“Yes!”

“Then go!”

Diana grabbed too late as Lance raced for the storefront, so she grabbed her sister’s shoulder instead. “Claire, that isn’t where he came in. There’s no way to be sure he’ll come out in your bedroom! Not without…” Her voice trailed off at the look on Claire’s face.

Claire reached into the possibilities and set Lance’s feet on a single path.

Rules broke.

*

Dean’s hair had begun to gray.

Since it seemed to be his only remaining option, Austin launched himself from the top of the wardrobe, screaming a challenge.

Meryat swatted him aside. Lost a little flesh tone in the use of power but quickly gained it back as Dean seemed to shrink in on himself.

“Hold hard, you ancient and perfidious evil!”

Her attention lifted off Dean.“What?”

Austin muzzily wondered much the same from where he sprawled against the headboard. Whenhe was a kitten, perfidious and evil meant the same thing.

Bounding out of the wardrobe, Lance twirled a line of linen across the room.

Meryat stared at him in disbelief for a heartbeat, then laughed and raised a hand.“Foolish b…OW!”

As the linen looped around her neck, Dean slid off the edge of the bed. It had taken everything he had left to overcome the years of training that Meryat had called his tragic flaw but, in the end, he’d managed a solid kick in the ankle. Now his back hurt, he had an intense craving for prune juice, and he couldn’t actually hear what Lance was shouting. Wasn’t entirely sure it was English.That’s the trouble with kids today, talk a language all their own. It’s all the fault of that MT…Whoa. Suddenly, he felt a lot better.

Meryat wasn’t looking too good.

A finger dropped off and shattered to dust against the floor.

Lance wrapped another loop of linen around her body and kept shouting.

Another finger fell. The rest of her followed about seven syllables later.

Dean covered his mouth and nose as a fine particulate rose and settled.

“Dr. Rebik!”

The archaeologist now looked only five or six years older than his driver’s license picture. Which wasn’t exactly good, but he inarguably looked better than he had been.

“Lance!”

In turn, Lance no longer looked like he’d taken too many hits from a croc.

Although he still looked Australian.

As the professor and his grad student caught up, Dean stood and leaned over the bed.“You all right?”

Austin checked extremities, sneered in the general direction of the reunion, and reluctantly admitted he was fine.

“Good. I’ll be after getting the vacuum, then.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_5]

The sheer enormity of what her sister—her older, responsible sister—had done shouldered its way past loss and grief. Diana felt as though she was thinking clearly for the first time since Kris’ sacrifice. And Claireso didn’t want to know what she was thinking. She’d been hurt before, upset, now she was angry. “I can’tbelieve you did that!”

“Believe it!”

When Rules were broken, there were consequences.

Claire slammed the door closed, counted to ten, and yanked it open. They stepped through together.

They stepped from the lower concourse into a children’s clothing store.

“You’ve permanently warped it,” Diana snapped as she tightened her hold on Sam and they ran for the next storefront.

“I had to save Dean!”

“Sure you did!” Because Claire could do what Claire wanted and too bad if anyone or what anyone else needed to do got in her way.

Jeans store.

Fabric store.

They ran past the watching elves and tried the other side of the concourse.

The doors opened only to their singular, prosaic destination.

They couldn’t cross back over.

When Rules were broken, there were consequences.

Squirming free, Sam jumped up onto the edge of a planter and looked from Claire to Diana.“So, we’re stuck here?”

“Looks like!” Diana’s lip curled. “Because Ms. I Always Have to Have My Own Way had to save Dean at the expense of everyone else!”

“I was not going to let him die!”

Less than an arm’s length between them now. Voices raised and getting louder. The mall elves started studying the tiles, the light fixtures, the cat.

“Did you evenonce think of me?” Diana snarled.

Claire snorted.“Doyou ever think of anything but yourself?”

Sam dropped back onto the floor.

“Oh, fine talk from someone who goes on and on about sacrifice to the greater good and who just condemned my…condemnedKris to save her boyfriend!”

The shrieks of pain sounded pretty much simultaneously. In the silence that followed, Sam returned to the planter.

Claire rubbed at the blood on her ankle, looked up to see Diana doing the same, realized the tears were not from the cat scratches and reached out.“Oh, Kitten, I’m sorry.”

Things got a little damp and mushy for the next few minutes, embraces awkward because of the packs but determined.

“Well done,” Arthur murmured by Sam’s shoulder. “I had begun to think I should intervene.”

“That would have worked, too,” Sam admitted. “But you probably wouldn’t have liked the result.”

“Oh?”

“Common enemy.”

“But you…”

“Are a cat.”

“Right.”

Caught up in the circle of Claire’s arm, Diana sniffled and raised her head. “You haven’t called me Kitten in years.”

“You started hitting me when I did it.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“And then you filled my bed with butterscotch pudding.”

“Technically, I turned your sheets to pudding, but I can see why you stopped.”

They separated slowly, wiped tears, and mirrored watery smiles.

“Rough day.”

“Yeah.”

“Diana, Kris…”

“I know. We’ll save her. And I’ve figured out how to get us home.”

*

“Diana, I’m not a teenager.”

Diana straightened her pack straps, then bent down and scooped Sam off the floor.“Look, it’s after hours, you’re with a teenager and a cat, and we’ve got a mirror we definitely didn’t pay for—it’s covered.”

Shunk kree. Shunk kree.

“That certainly sounds like it’s covered,” Claire admitted. She closed her good hand around the edge of Jack’s frame. “Jack, are you sure?”

“I just want out of the mall. The guesthouse sounds fabulous and…Hello! Fingerprints on my glass!”

“Sorry.”

Shunk kree. Shunk kree.

Sam tucked his head up under Diana’s chin. “What’s taking him so long?”

They were alone on the lower concourse, Arthur and the elves back in the department store in an effort to minimize time distortions. Good-byes had been perfunctory at best.

“I’ll be back with Kris as soon as I find her. Now go away, or this will never work!”

Claire thought she could smell the fire, could definitely hear the music. Actually, now that the mall was nothing more than a place on the Otherside, they could probably hear the music at the Girl Guide camp. The mall elves were great kids, but she could see why Jack didn’t want to stay.

Shunk kree. Shunk kree.

The circle of light swept across the concourse.

Swept back.

*

His eyes widened as he stared at the two girls and the cat. Twenty-one years he’d been patrolling this darkness, finding the hidden ones, dragging them out to face the consequences. Girls. Boys. Young bodies. Lithe bodies. Hard bodies. All their possibilities caught and held.

They thought they were better than him. They laughed. Here, in the darkness, he made sure they stopped laughing.

Not the first time he’d caught two at once.

Not even the first cat.

The first pair with a cat. And a mirror?

Caught himself, he stared at his reflection and almost saw something stare back.

*

“That was unpleasant.” Although she hadn’t actually touched the old man, Claire wiped her fingers against her thigh as they hurried toward the nearest exit, Jack riding the possibilities behind them.

“Yeah, lots of waxy build up in there. How much did you wipe?”

“His memory of us.”

“And that whole ‘geeks that hunt the night’ thing?”

“Couldn’t touch it. It was tracked in too deep.”

“That’s almost…sad.”

“Might be for the best, though; Arthur will have an easier time with the elves if they continue to face a common enemy.”

“That’s an interesting definition of ‘for the best.’”

“Remind me to check at Children’s Aid tomorrow and find out where they’re holding Stewart.”

“You’ll send him back?”

“Of course I will. If he wants to go.”

“Can’t see why he would,” Diana snorted. “I mean, reality’s just so much more meaningful than a life you’ve made for yourself.” Barely slowing, she popped the lock on the exit’s inside door and held it open. “How’s your finger,” she asked as Sam raced through their legs and off the concourse.

Claire flicked it at her sister.“Good as new.”

Grinning, Diana flipped a finger back as Claire dealt with the outside door.“Sam, she’d be a little faster if you weren’t quite so underfoot.”

“I just want to get out of here.”

“I hear you.” Bending, she picked him up again and rested her chin between his ears. “I’m totally web shopping from now on.”

Jack glanced up at the security mirror as he passed between the doors.“Is that what I looked like on this side?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

He frowned.“Did that curvature make me look fat?”

The heat outside the mall hit them like a wet sponge.

“Oh, man, I so didn’t miss this.” Diana waved the hand not holding Sam between their black-on-black outfits. “And we’re so not dressed for it.”

“Not a problem. First, it’s the middle of the night. Second, if anyone does say anything, we’ll tell them we’re from Toronto.”

“Works. Now…” Deep in Diana’s pack, her cell phone began to ring, the sound remarkably loud in the empty parking lot. She touched the possibilities. “That’s Mom.”

Claire winced. When Rules were broken, there were consequences.“I don’t suppose…”

The ringing stopped.“Battery must’ve gone dead.”

“Thanks.”

“De nada.”

“It’ll be something when your mother catches up to you,” Sam muttered.

Diana ignored him.“So, like I was saying; now what?”

“Home.”

“The guest house?”

“Yes, because…”

“Because the residual power signature in the furnace room will lead us right to Kris! And you have to check on Dean and Austin,” she added hurriedly as Claire’s brows drew in. “I understand. But you know; two birds, one stone. Let’s move!”

Claire reached into the possibilities and called a cab.

*

Chin resting on one hand, Dean covered a yawn with the other and watched Austin eat a sausage he wasn’t supposed to have. After everything they’d been through, it was reassuringly norm…“Austin?”

Both ears were up. His head turned suddenly toward the front door. A heartbeat later the rest of his body followed.

With a shriek of wood against wood and a crash as his chair hit the floor and bounced, Dean followed.

*

Claire stepped out of the taxi and braced herself as a black-and-white streak flew down the front stairs of the guest house and into her arms. She winced as claws sank deep into both shoulders but only murmured reassurances into the top of a velvet head. After a moment, Austin calmed enough to pin her in an emerald gaze.

“Never go away for that long again!”

“I missed you, too.”

“We could have been killed!”

“I’m sorry.”

“If you hadn’t sent Lance back…”

“I know.”

“I had everything under control.”

“Of course.”

“If that’s Dean I hear pounding toward you, put me down before I get crushed.”

It was, so she did.

Sitting on the sidewalk, Austin finished smoothing rumpled fur and looked up to see Sam watching him, head cocked to one side.“I’ll make her pay later,” he said.

The younger cat nodded.“I never doubted you.”

“I assume there’s a story behind the whole ‘dressed like they’re heading out to do some second-story work’?”

“Yes.”

“Well, skip it.”

Diana wrestled Jack out of the back seat—bending half a dozen or so possibilities in the process—and shoved him toward the guest house as the cab roared off, the cabby remembering only the twenty percent tip. The possibilities were cheaper, but their mother had called twice more on the ride home. Once on the cabby’s cell phone. Once using a phone booth near the intersection where they were waiting for the light.

Sooner or later, one of them would have to answer.

Claire would have to answer, Diana corrected glancing over at her sister and Dean. About to suggest Claire leave tonsillectomies to the medical profession, another phone rang. Actually, not another phone. Her phone. In her pack. Mom had clearly found a way around the dead battery.

At this point, the fastest route to Kris might be to answer it. Whileshe hadn’t broken any Rules, at this point in the proceedings, she was likely to catch just as much Hell. Leaning Jack carefully against the porch railing, Diana slipped off her pack and began to search for her cell. Finding it at last under a tunaless tuna sandwich, her thumb was poised over the connectbutton when the sound of squealing tires drew all eyes to the street.

A minivan pulled up in front of the guest house and stopped on a dime. With a tinkle of nine cents’ change hitting the pavement, the side door opened and a familiar body exploded out onto the sidewalk.

“Freakin’ OW!”

“Kris!” Diana raced forward as the van roared away. Throwing herself to her knees, she gathered the crumpled body of the elf up into her arms. “Kris say something!”

Kris blinked, and looked around.“This is Hell?”

“No, this is Kingston!”

She was still holding the wand, now flaccid and more puce than pink.“I was falling and this is where I landed.”

“You were in a minivan.”

“No. I think I’d remember that. Cavern. Falling. Pink stuff. Here.”

Diana twisted around to stare at Claire.

“I kept trying to tell you.” She leaned back against Dean’s chest and wrapped herself in the safety of his arms. “Rule one…”

“The possibilities are not to be used to bring in HBO?” Diana asked, unable to see the relevance.

“Okay, rule two. Hell can’t hold a willing sacrifice. It couldn’t hold Kris any more than it could hold Dean.”

“And you tried to tell me that?”

“A couple of times.”

Diana’s heart felt like it was beating normally for the first time in days. “Next time, try harder.”

“You guys want to keep it quiet out there!” The voice drifted down from one of the surrounding windows, open because of the heat. “It’s three in the morning and some of us are trying to sleep!”

“You want to sleep?” Claire reached into the possibilities.

“Then sleep.” Diana added her two cents’ worth as she helped Kris to her feet.

From where Diana had dropped it at the base of the steps, the phone began ringing again. She looked at Claire. Claire took a step forward, turned, and looked at Dean. Who took two steps sideways and brought his work boot down as hard as he could. Sam batted the pieces down into the area by the basement door.

“Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb,” Claire said with satisfaction.

“I could go for some lamb,” Austin murmured as he followed Sam up the stairs.

“I don’t know about lamb,” Diana sighed as she led Kris into the guest house, “but I could eat.”

Claire waved Jack in ahead of them—time for introductions when there was less chance of being overheard—and laid her head on Dean’s shoulder as he slipped an arm around her waist. They climbed the stairs together. “Where’s Lance?”

“He and Dr. Rebik are…Uh…Sleeping.”

A half turn, and she could see his ears were pink.“Sleeping?”

“Probably. By now.”

“What?”

His eyebrows made an appearance above the upper edge of his glasses.

“Oh. Happy endings all around, then.”

“Well, Dr. Rebik definitely lost a few years and Lance—actually, since I wasn’t after knowing him before, I don’t want to assume…”

“Happy endings,” Claire repeated, leaving no room for postgame analysis.

“Yeah.”

“Good. I want to hear everything that happened while I was gone, but for right now, there’s just one thing I have to know.”

He kissed the top of her head as they stepped over the threshold.“What’s that?”

“What were you doing with a basilisk in the bedroom?”

The door closed on his answer.

From King Street came the faint sound of a minivan being pulled over by the police.

And for the first time in days, a cool breeze blew in off the lake.

UNDER SUMMONS

Eyes squinted against the early morning sun, Diana Hansen walked down the lane toward the Waupoos Marina listening to the string of complaints coming from the cat in her backpack.

“The boat is leaving at seven thirty,” she said when he finally paused for breath. “If we’d gotten up any later, we’d have missed it.”

The head and front paws of a marmalade tabby emerged through the open zipper and peered over Diana’s shoulder toward the marina. “I thought need provided for Keepers during a Summoning?”

“Need has provided, Sam. There’s a boat leaving for Main Duck Island this morning.”

He snorted. “Why can’t need provide a boat at a reasonable hour?”

“It doesn’t work that way. Besides, cats do that hunt at dusk and dawn thing– you should be happy to be up.”

“First of all, I’m not hunting. And second,” he added ducking down into the backpack as a car passed them, “I’d rather have sausages for breakfast than a damp mouse.”

“Who wouldn’t.”

Another car passed, bouncing from pot hole to pot hole.

“You’d better stay down,” Diana told him, hooking her thumbs under the padded shoulder straps. “It’s starting to get busy.”

“Oh yeah,” the cat muttered as a pickup truck followed the two cars. “It’s a real rush hour. I’ll be napping, if you need me.”

The Ministry of Natural Resources trawler was tied up at the nearer of the big piers out behind the marina. Pausing at the south-west corner of the big grey building, Diana scoped out the crowd. Most of the twenty-four other travellers were older couples, sensibly dressed in long pants, wearing both hiking boots and hats. Half a dozen women were obviously together, and, just as obviously, part of a club– unless they’d all accidentally worn the same lime-green t-shirt. There was a sprinkling of younger adults, and three teenagers. Two girls, probably sisters, and a boy. They were the only people wearing shorts. The boy caught her gaze and smirked. He was a good-looking kid – and he knew it.

“Okay, everyone, listen up!” A fortyish man wearing Ministry khaki, climbed up on a wooden crate and waved a clipboard. “Some of you already know me, but for the rest, I’m Gary Straum, and I’ll be your guide this trip. The young man driving the boat is Jamie Wierster. He knows almost as much as I do about the island, so if I’m not available, he’ll do his best to tell you anything you need to know.”

A ruddy-cheeked, young giant leaned out of the tiny cabin and waved.

“I just want to remind you of a few things before we get started,” Gary continued as the two girls giggled. “Main Duck Island is part of the St. Lawrence Islands National Parks system and is a nature sanctuary. You may not take samples of the plant life away with you– this means no picking, no digging, no collecting seeds. The wildlife is to be left strictly alone. If there’s a disagreement of any kind between you and any creature living on that island, I will rule in favour of the creature. Anything you carry in must be carried out. If you can’t live with that, I suggest you leave now.” Gary smiled as an older man grabbed the back of the teenage boy’s skater shirt and hauled him back by his side. “All right, then. When I read your name, come and pick up your life jacket…” He gestured at the open steel locker beside him. “…put it on, and board. Thesooner we get going, the more time we’ll have to spend on the island.”

Diana’s name was the last on the list. She hadn’t put it there, and she felt a little sorry for the actual twenty-fifth person, who’d been bumped to make room for her, but there was a hole in the fabric of reality out on Main Duck Island and it was her job as a Keeper to close it.

Feeling awkward and faintly ridiculous in the life jacket, Diana sat down on a wooden bench and set her backpack carefully at her feet.

“I saw the cat. When we passed you in the lane.”

She answered the teenage boy’s smile with one of her own as he dropped onto the bench beside her. According to the boarding list, his name was Ryan. Ryan, like everyone else on the boat, was a Bystander, and given the relative numbers, Keepers were used to working around them. “Of course you did, Ryan.Please forget about it.”

It really was a magic word.

He frowned. Looked around like he was wondering why he’d sat beside her, and after mumbling something inarticulate, moved across the boat to sit back down in his original seat. The girls, Mackenzie and Erin, sitting on the bench in front of him, giggled.

“I get the impression you’re not the giggling type.”

It was one of the older women, her husband busy taking pictures of Gary casting off and jumping aboard.

“Not really, no.”

“Carol Diamond. That’s my husband Richard. We’re here as part of an Elder Hostel program.” Her wave took in the rest of the hats-and-hiking-boots crowd. “All of us.”

“Great.”

“Are you travelling on your own, dear?”

“Yes, I am.”

Carol smiled the even, white smile of the fully-dentured and nodded toward the teenagers. “Well, how nice you have some people of your own age to spend time with.”

Diana blinked. Two months shy of twenty, she did not appreciate being lumped in with the children. Fortunately, between the motor and the wind it was difficult to carry on a casual conversation, and Carol didn’t try, content to sit quietly while her husband took pictures of Waupoos Island, Prince Edward Point, waves, sky, gulls, the other people in the boat, and once, while he was fiddling with the focus, his lap.

The three pictures with Diana in them would be mysteriously over-exposed.

So would one of the shots he’d taken of the southern view across Lake Ontario, but Diana had nothing to do with that.

“Hey!” Ryan managed to make himself heard over the ambient noise. “What’s that?”

Everyone squinted in the direction he was pointing. A series of small, dark dots rose above a sharp-edged horizon.

“That’s our first sight of the island; we’re about five miles out.” Gary moved closer to the teenager. “Well done.”

Ryan turned just far enough to scowl at him. “Not that. Closer to us.”

About twenty metres from the boat, another series of small dark dots rose and fell with the slight chop. Then, suddenly, they were gone. The last dot rose up into a triangular point just before it disappeared.

“That looked like a tail!”

“Might be a loon,” Gary offered.

“Fucking big loon!”

“Ryan!”

Ryan rolled his eyes at his father, but muttered an apology.

“It’s probably just some floating junk.” A half-turn included the rest of the group in the discussion. “You’d be amazed at the stuff we find out here.” His list had almost everyone laughing.

Lake monster wasn’t on it, Diana noted.

As Main Duck Island coalesced into a low, solid line of trees with a light house rising off the westernmost point, Gary explained that it had been acquired by the park service in 1998, having been previously owned by John Foster Dulles, a prominent lawyer who’d been American Secretary of State in the Eisenhower administration. The island was 209 hectares in size, and except for the ruins of some old fishing cabins that had been postedno trespassing, none of it was off limits.

“The lighthouse?” one of the lime-green t-shirt group asked.

“Is unmanned and closed to the public, but you can go right up to it and poke around.”

Mention of the lighthouse started the shipwreck stories. There were a lot of them; the area around the island was known as the graveyard of Lake Ontario and contained the wrecks of two-and three-masted schooners, brigantines, barges, and steamers, dating back to a small French warship en route to Fort Niagara with supplies and a pay chest of gold for the troops that went down in late fall around 1750.

Diana had begun to get a bad feeling about the location of the hole she had to close.

As Jamie steered the trawler into School House Bay, Gary told the story of theJohn Randall. She’d anchored in the bay for shelter back in 1920, only to have the wind shift to the north and drive her ashore. Her stern hit a rock, her engine lifted, and she broke in two.

“The crew of four scrambled up onto the bow and remained there for ten hours, washed by heavy seas and lashed by a November northeaster. They finally made it ashore on a hatch cover and stayed with the lighthouse keeper nine days before they were picked up. You can still see the wooden ribs and planks of the ship in the bay.”

“So no one died?” Ryan asked.

“Not that time.” With the dock only metres away, Gary moved over to the port side of the boat and picked up the rear mooring line. “But a year and eight days later, the Captain of theRandall went down while in command of theCity of New York. His wife and his ten-month-old daughter went to the bottom with him.”

“So sad,” Carol sighed as Gary leapt out onto the dock. “But at least they were together.” She twisted on the bench to look back the way they’d come. “I bet those waves hide a hundred stories.”

“I bet they hide a hundred and one,” Diana muttered, hoisting her backpack. She was not going to enjoy explaining this to Sam.

“In the water?”

“Essentially.”

Sam’s ears saddled. “Howessentially?” The echoed word dripped with feline sarcasm.

“Under the water.”

“Have a nice time.”

Down on one knee beside him, Diana stroked along his back and out his tail. “There’s a lake monster out there, too. Looked like a sea serpent. Probably came through the hole.”

“And that’s supposed to make me change my mind?” the cat snorted. He peered off the end of the dock into the weedy bay. “Frogs pee in that water, you know.”

“That’s not…” She probed at the Summons, trying to narrow it down a little. “…exactly the water we’re going into.”

He sat back and looked up at her, amber eyes narrowed. “What water are we going into, exactly? Ifwe were going, that is?”

“Southwest.” She straightened. “Toward the lighthouse.”

“I’ll wait here.”

“Come on. The nature hike went through the woods. We’ll take the beach and avoid an audience.” About to lift the backpack, she paused. “You want to walk or ride?”

Tail tip twitching, he shoved past her, muttering, “What part of I’ll wait here did you not understand?”

The beach consisted of two to three metres of smooth gravel, trimmed with a ridge of polished zebra mussel shells at the edge of the water. As Diana and Sam rounded a clump of sumac, they saw Ryan, a garter snake wrapped around one hand, moving quietly toward the two girls crouched at the ridge of shells.

“You think we should get involved?” Sam wondered.

Before Diana could answer, Ryan placed his foot wrong, the gravel rattled, and both girls turned. Although he no longer had surprise on his side, he waved the snake in their general direction.

“Look what I have!”

Braced for shrieking and running, Diana was surprised to see both girls advance toward Ryan.

“How dare you!” Mackenzie snapped, fists on her hips. “How would you like it if someone picked you up by the throat and flailed you at people?”

“The poor snake!” Erin added.

“I’m not hurting it,” Ryan began, but Mackenzie ran right over his protest with her opinion of the kind of people who abused animals for fun, while Erin gently took the snake from him and released it.

“In answer to your question,” Diana snickered as they started walking again, “I don’t think we’re needed.”

A little further down the beach, two even larger snakes lay tangled together in the sun on a huge slab of flat rock. The female hissed as they went by. Sam hissed back.

“Don’t be rude, Sam, it’s their beach.”

“She started it,” Sam muttered.

About half way to the lighthouse, with the teenagers out of sight behind them, Diana headed for the water.

“Is it here?”

“No, it’s farther west, but these shoals go out over half a mile in places, and I’d rather not be visible from shore for that long. I don’t want to have to maintain a misdirection when we’re wading waist deep.”

“Whenwe’re wading?” Sam sniffed disdainfully at the mussel shells. “Lift me over this, would you.”

“Actually,” she bent and picked him up, settling his weight against her chest, “why don’t I just carry you until we’re in the water.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighed and adjusted his position slightly. “It’s going to be cold.”

“It’s Lake Ontario, I don’t think it ever gets warm. But don’t worry, you won’t feel it.” As the water lapped against the beach gravel a centimetre from the toes of her shoes, Diana reached into the Possibilities and wrapped power around them. Then she stepped forward. “There’s a nice, wide channel here,” she said, moving carefully over the flat rock. Sam would be completely unbearable if she missed her footing and a wave knocked them down. “We can follow the rift out to deep water and…”

The bottom dropped out from under her feet.

She stopped their descent before the channel grew uncomfortably narrow. The last thing she wanted was to get her foot stuck between two rocks while under three metres of Lake Ontario with a cranky cat. Well, maybe not thelast thing she wanted– being forced to sit through a marathon viewing of Question Period ranked higher on the list, but not by much.

Thanks to the zebra mussels, the water was remarkably clear– the one benefit of an invasive species that blocked intake pipes up and down the Great Lakes. Enough light made it down from the surface that they could easily see their way.

“Of course,I could see anyway,” Sam reminded her as she let him go. He swam slowly around her, hair puffing out from his body. “Cats see much better than humans in low light levels.” A little experimentation proved he could use his tail as a rudder. “You know, when you don’t have to get wet, swimming is kind of fun. Hey! Is that a fish?”

Since the fish was moving in the right direction, and Sam didn’t have a hope of catching it, Diana merely followed along behind, half her attention on the Summons, and the other half on the cat.

“Sam, come on! This way! We’ve got to go deeper.”

“How deep?” he demanded, scattering a small school of herring.

“Right to the bottom.” She slipped one arm out of her backpack and swung it around so she could pull out her flashlight. “Come on, and stop bothering the fish.”

“Something has them freaked.”

“They probably don’t get a lot of cats down here.”

“I don’t think it’s me. Mostly, I seem to be confusing them.”

“Welcome to the club.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” The water was definitely getting darker. Jade green now and, finally, a little murky. “If it’s not you, then what?”

“Something big.”

“The sea serpent?”

He was back at her side so quickly that the impact sent her spinning slowly counter-clockwise. “Maybe.”

Diana stopped the spin before her third revolution. A Keeper spinning three times counter-clockwise near an open accident site could have unpleasant– or, at the very least unlikely – consequences.

“How can you have a sea serpent in a lake?” Sam snorted in a tone that said very clearly,I wasn’t scared, so don’t think for a moment I was.

Diana shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because lake serpent sounds dumb.”

“What’s that?”

She turned the beam of the flashlight. A small piece of metal glinted on a narrow shelf of rock. “We should check it out.”

“Is it part of the Summons?”

“Yes… No…” She started to swim. “Maybe.” Feeling the faint tug of a current nearer the rocks, she half turned. “Stay close. I don’t want you swept away.”

He paddled a little faster and tucked up against her side. “Good. I don’t want tobe swept away.”

“We’re lucky it’s so calm today. On a rough day with high waves, there’s probably a powerful undertow through here.”

“Don’t want to be eaten by an under-toad,” Sam muttered.

“Not under-toad. Undertow.”

“You sure of that?”

Glancing down into the dark depths of the lake, Diana wasn’t, so, to be on the safe side, she stopped thinking about it. The older Keepers got unnecessarily shirty about the accidental creation of creatures from folklore. As a general rule, the creatures weren’t too happy about it either.

“It’s the clasp off a change purse.” The leather purse itself had long rotted away. “Hang on…” Slipping two fingers down into a crack in the rock, she pulled out a copper coin, too corroded to be identified further.

“You should put that back.”

A second coin. She tucked them both into the front pocket of her jeans.

“Okay, fine. Don’t listen to the cat.”

“I need them.”

“What for?”

Good question. “I don’t know yet. Come on.”

“Come on?” Sam repeated, paddling with all four feet to keep up. “You say that like I was the one who paused to do a little grave robbing.”

“First of all, that wasn’t a grave, and second,” she continued before Sam could argue, “I haven’t actually robbed anything since the coins are still here. In the water.”

“In your pocket.”

“That only counts if I take them away with me.”

“So you’ve borrowed them?”

“More or less.”

“Less,” the cat snorted.

Diana let him have the last word. It was pretty much the only way to shut him up.

By the time they reached the bottom, the only illumination came from the flashlight. The water was a greenish-yellow, small particulates drifting through the path of the beam.

“Are we there yet?”

“A little further west.”

The bottom was still mostly rock, but there were patches of dirt supporting a few small weeds in spite of the depth. They followed a low ridge for close to half a kilometre, stopping when it rose suddenly to within a few metres of the surface.

“This is the place,” Diana said, sweeping the light over the rock. “Somewhere close and… Sam, what are you doing?”

He was floating motionless, nose-to-nose with a good-sized herring. “Staring contest.”

“You can’t win.”

“Cats always win.”

“I don’t think fish have eyelids.”

Sam’s tail started to lash, propelling him forward. “You cheater!”

Diana couldn’t be sure, but she thought the fish looked slightly sheepish as it turned and darted away. “Never mind that!” she yelled, as Sam took off in pursuit. “We’re right on top of the Summons, so I’m thinking– given where we are – that we’ve got to find a wreck.”

“In a minute!” Sam disappeared around the edge of the shoal. “I’m just gonna teach that cheating fish a…”

“Sam?”

“Found it.”

“Found what?” Diana demanded as she swam after the cat. “Oh.”

Much like Main Duck Island itself, the shoal rose to become a nearly-vertical underwater cliff on the north side, but fell off in layers to the south. On one layer, about a meter and a half up from the bottom, the skeletal prow of an old, wooden ship jutted out from the ridge, huge timbers held in place in the narrow angle between two slabs of canted rock and preserved by the cold of the water.

“Well, this is…”

“Obvious,” snorted Sam. “Big hunk of rock rising toward the surface. Exposed wreck. Probably been a hundred divers down here every summer.”

“Probably,” Diana agreed, swimming closer. “But this is where the hole is, I’m sure of it. Somebody did something sometime recently.”

“Oh, that’s definitive,” Sam sighed, following her in.

The hole she’d been Summoned to close was not part of the wreck, but in the rock beside it, where a narrow crevice cut down into the lake bed.

“Isn’t the word hole usually more of a metaphorical description,” Sam wondered as Diana floated head down and feet up, peering into the crevice.

“Usually. Still is, mostly.” The actual opening between this world and the nastier end of the Possibilities stretched out on both sides of the crevice, but it was centred over the dark, triangular crack in the rock. “There’s something down here.”

“I’m guessing fish poo.”

“And you’d be right.”

“Eww.”

“But something else, too.” Tucking the flashlight under her chin, Diana grabbed onto a rock with her left hand and snaked her right down into the crack. “Almost…”

“If you lose that hand, are you still going to be able to use a can opener?”

“I’m not going to lose the hand!”

“I’m just asking.”

Sharp edges of rock dug into her arm as she forced her hand deeper, her jacket riding up away from her wrist. One fingertip touched… something. Even such a gentle pressure moved whatever it was away. A little further. Another touch. She managed to finally hook it between her first two fingers.

“Uh, Diana, about that sea serpent…”

“What about it?” She’d have to move her arm slowly and carefully out of the crack, or she’d lose whatever she was holding.

“It’s either heading this way from the other side of the wreck, or the Navy’s running a submarine in the Great Lakes.”

“I pick option B.”

“And you’d be wrong.”

Time to yank; she could always pick the thing up again. Unfortunately, a sharp tug didn’t free her arm. Bright side, she managed to hang onto the thing. Not-so-bright side, approaching sea serpent.

Wait! If her arm was stuck, then she didn’t need to hold the rock, and if she didn’t need to hold the rock…

She grabbed the flashlight and aimed the beam toward the wreck, hoping it would be enough. Pulling power from the Possibilities over a hole would not be smart. There were worse things than lake monsters out beyond the edges of reality.

Framed between two rotting timbers, green eyes flashed gold in the light. Mouth gaping, the sea serpent folded back on itself and fled, the final flick of its triangular tail knocking a bit of board off the wreck.

“Looks bigger up close,” Diana noted, trying to remember how to breathe.

“You think!” Sam snarled, paws and tail thrashing as he bobbed about in currents stirred up by the creature’s passage.

“Maybe it was just curious.”

“Sure it was. Because you get that big eating plankton!”

“Whales do.”

“Some whales do, and that was not a whale! That was a predator. I know a predator when I see one!”

Diana tucked the flashlight back under her chin and reached out to stroke the line of raised hair along Sam’s spine– the Possibility that allowed them to move and breathe underwater granting the touch. “You’re shouting.”

He speared her with an amber gaze. “I don’t want to be eaten by a sea serpent.”

“Who does?”

“Who cares?” he snapped. “The point is, I don’t. Let’s get that hole closed and get back on dry land before I’m a canap?.”

Diana had to admit he had a point, although she admitted it silently rather than give him more ammunition for complaints. The serpent was about ten metres long and almost a meter in diameter. A five-kilo cat would be barely a mouthful. The sooner she got the hole closed, the better.

Carefully, but as quickly as she could, she worked her right hand out of the crack and, when it was finally free, dropped a fragment of bone into the palm of her left.

“The graveyard of Lake Ontario,” Sam noted solemnly, his cinnamon nose nearly touching her hand. “There’s more than just ships at rest down here.”

“Not every body washed ashore,” Diana agreed, with a sigh. “I’m betting there’s more of this body down in that crevice.”

“You think it got smashed and that’s what made the hole?”

“I think someone– probably someone diving around the wreck – smashed it deliberately, and that’s what made the hole.”

“You need to get the rest of the bone out.”

It wasn’t a question, but she answered it anyway. “I do.”

“Great. Considering how long the first piece took, we’re going to be down here forever, and that serpent’s going to come back, and it’s going to be kitties and bits. You’re the bits,” he added.

“Thanks, I got that. You’re not usually this fatalistic.”

“Hello? Lake monster. Cat at the bottom of Lake Ontario.”

“You worry too much. Now that I’ve got one piece out, I can call the rest to it. It’ll be fast.” She held the hand holding the bone out over the crack and Called. Other fragments floated up, danced in the water, and, after a moment or two, formed most of a human jaw.

Suddenly conscious of being watched, Diana whirled around to see a herring hanging in the water. “What?”

Silver sides flashing, it swam about two metres away then stopped, turned, and continued staring.

“Is that your friend from before?”

“We’re not friends,” Sam snorted. “Get on with it.”

Diana studied the jaw. “There’s a tooth missing.”

Sam looked from the curved bone to the Keeper. “A tooth?”

“Okay, a bunch of teeth and the rest of the skeleton, but right here… see where the reformed jaw is a different shade?” She touched it lightly with the tip of one finger. “There was a tooth in there until recently. Whoever did this cracked the jaw and took the tooth.”

“Why?”

“People’ll notice if you come up from a dive with most of a jaw, but you can hide a tooth.”

Sam licked his shoulder thoughtfully, frowned when his tongue made no impression on his fur because of the Possibilities keeping him dry, and finally said, “Cats don’t care about the things we leave behind.”

“People do. Disturbing a body– even one this old – in order to get a souvenir is illegal, immoral, and kind of gross. So, now we have a problem.”

“The lake monster.”

“No.”

Before she could continue, Sam shifted so he was almost vertical in the water and pointed upwards with one front paw. “Yes!”

A long line of undulating darkness passed between them and the surface, turned, and passed again a little closer.

“Okay, problems. Plural. I need the tooth to close the hole.”

“Great.” Sam kept his eyes on the serpent, now one pass closer. “So call it.”

Diana reached out and grabbed him as the lashing of his tail propelled him upwards. “Two problems with that. One, it might be locked away and not able to move freely, and, two, we don’t know how far away it is. Staying down here indefinitely is really not an option. We need to go to it.”

“And?”

“And that’s not a problem: given that we’ve got the rest of the jaw, we’ll just follow it. The problem is, I can’t pull from the Possibilities this close to the hole.”

“So we leave and come back another day. And when I say we come back,” Sam amended, as he wriggled free and started swimming toward shore, “I mean you.”

Diana grabbed him again. “Did I mention that the serpent has to go back through the hole before I close it? If we leave and come back, the serpent could be anywhere, not to mention that another serpent– or worse – could come through.”

“You’re just full of good news.”

“But, I have a plan.”

“Oh, joy.”

“You won’t like it.”

He sighed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I’m going to use the Possibilities that are keeping us dry and breathing.”

“There’s a problem with that.” He squirmed around until he looked her in the face. “They’re keeping us dry and breathing.”

“We take a deep breath, and the next instant we’ll be standing by the missing tooth.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“We’ll just be a little wet.”

“When you say a little, you mean…”

“Completely.”

He locked his claws in her jacket. “No.”

“Would you rather be eaten by the lake monster?”

Sam glanced toward the surface. The serpent was close enough that Diana could see the broad band of lighter-brown scales around its neck. It seemed to be picking up speed with each pass, confidence growing as nothing opposed it.

“Sam?”

“I’m thinking.”

There were teeth visible just inside the broad mouth. Rather too many teeth, in Diana’s opinion. Rather too many teeth suddenly facing them. And closing fast. Really, really fast. “Take a deep breath, Sam.”

“I don’t…”

“Now!”

And they were standing, dripping, in a basement workshop, the room barely lit by two low windows.

“I’m wet!” Claws breaking through denim to skin, Sam leapt out of Diana’s arms and raced around the room, spraying water from his sodden fur. “Wet! Wet! Ahhhhh! Wet!” Tail clamped tight to his body, he disappeared under the lower shelf of the workbench.

“Oh for…” Far enough from the hole that all Possibilities were open to her, Diana reached. “There. Now, you’re dry.”

“I’m still sitting in a puddle,” came a disgruntled voice from under the bench.

“So move.” Taking her own advice, Diana stepped out of a puddle of her own and held out the jaw. “Can you hear that?”

“I have water in my ears.”

“Sam!”

“Fine.” He crawled out from under the bench, shook, and sat, head cocked. “I hear tapping.”

“Can you find it?”

The look he shot her promised dire consequences.

“I’m sorry.Would you find it? Please.” Not a compulsion, just a polite request. Compelling cats had much the same success rate as Senate reform, which was to say, none at all.

The tooth was in a small plastic box, tucked inside a red, metal tool box, shoved to the back of an upper shelf.

“What’s the point of having a souvenir no one can see?” Sam wondered as the tooth settled back into the jaw with an audible click.

“I guess the point’s having it. Let’s go.”

“In a minute.” He walked over to where a full wet suit hung on the wall, neoprene booties lined up neatly under it. Tail held high, he turned around.

“What are you doing?”

He looked up at her like she was an idiot. In fairness, it was a stupid question.

“Good aim,” she acknowledged when he finished. “I just hope they don’t have a cat that can be blamed when he puts that boot on next.”

“They don’t.”

“You really got upset about him taking that tooth,” she murmured, bending and scooping him up.

“Please,” he snorted, settling into the crook of her arm. “I gotwet!”

“Who are you?”

She stared at Sam, who shrugged in an unhelpful manner, then turned toward the piping voice.

A little girl, no more than five, stood in the open doorway, half hanging off the door knob. Behind her, a rec room; empty but for a scattering of brightly-coloured toys.

Diana glanced down at the jaw and smiled. “I’m the tooth fairy,” she said, reached into the Possibilities, and allowed the bone to pull them back to the wreck.

The serpent was nowhere in sight, but since they hadn’t been gone long, she figured it hadn’t gone far. The trick would be getting it to come back.

“Sam! What are you doing?”

He paused, up on his hind legs, front claws embedded in a squared piece of timber. “Is that a trick question?”

“Just stop it.”

“Fine.” Sighing, he swam back over beside her. “Now what?”

“We need to lure the serpent back through the hole before I can close it.”

“I refuse to be bait.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

“Good.”

She nodded at the lone herring watching from the shelter of the wreck. “I need you to talk to your friend.”

“It’s a fish.”

“So?”

“It’s not a friend, it’s food.”

“So you can’t talk to it.”

Whiskers bristled indignantly. “I didn’t say that!”

“I need you to ask it to get a school together, get the serpent’s attention, lure it back here, and peel away at the last minute so that the serpent goes through the hole rather than hitting the rock.”

Sam stared at her. “You want me to convince fish to be bait? Why don’t I just convince them to roll in breadcrumbs and lie down under a broiler?” The darker orange markings on his forehead formed a ‘w’ as he frowned. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

“If they do this, the serpent will be gone, and they’ll be a lot safer.”

“Provided he doesn’t catch them and eat them.”

“I’m not saying there isn’t a risk. Just try.”

As Sam swam over to the herring, Diana slid her backpack around onto her lap and undid the zipper. She needed something that would write under water on slippery, algae-covered rock. Pens, pencils, markers, bag of biodegradable kitty litter, litter box, six cans of cat food, two cat dishes, box of crackers, peanut butter, pyjamas, clean jeans, socks, underwear, laptop; nothing that would work. The outside pockets held her cellphone, a bottle of slightly redundant water, and… a nail file. Possibly…

“She wants you to sweeten the deal.”

“She does?” Diana glanced over at the herring. “How?”

“She wants you to get rid of the fish that suck the life out of other fish.”

“There’s vampire fish in this lake?” All at once, the dark corners under the rocks looked a little darker.

“Get real. They’re called sea lampreys. They came into the lake after World War II and decimated the native populations. TVO special on the Great Lakes,” he added when Diana blinked at him.

“Decimated?”

“It means ate most of.”

“Iknow what it means.”

“Hey, you asked,” he snorted. “What do you say? They’re not supposed to be here, no one would miss them, and you can’t lure the serpent without herring cooperation. She just wants her fry to be safe.” He paused and licked his lips.

“You’re thinking about fried fish, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, stop.” If she gave the herring what she wanted, Diana knew there’d be consequences. More healthy, native species of fish in the lake, for one thing. Actually, more healthy, native species of fish in the lake was about the only thing. She couldn’t see a down side– which was always vaguely unsettling.

“You can’t do it, can you?”

“Of course I can do it.” It was disconcerting that her cat was using the same argument on her that she’d used on him. “Technically, as a Keeper, if I’m asked for help to right a wrong, I can’t refuse. Sea lampreys in the lake seem to be definitely a wrong.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I’m not sure fish were included under that rule.”

“Very anti-ichthyoid of you.”

“Anti what? Never mind.” She waved off his explanation. “You’re watching way too much television. Okay, tell her I’ll do it, but it has to be after the hole is closed, I can’t access the Possibilities until then.”

“She wants to know why she should trust you.”

Diana glanced over at the herring. “Because I’m one of the good guys.”

“She only has your word for that.”

“Sam!”

“Okay, okay, she didn’t say that. You get to work; I’ll convince her you’re trustworthy.”

“Thank you.” Setting the jaw bone carefully aside, Diana began to scratch the definitions of the accident site onto the rocks around the hole with the point of her nail file, the algae just thick enough for it to leave a legible impression.

“Incoming!”

“I’m almost done.”

“Maybe you don’t quite understand what incoming means,” Sam shouted as the first herring whacked into her shoulder.

Diana scrambled to get the last definition drawn in the midst of a silver swirl of fish and dove out of the way in the instant of clear water that followed.

Given a choice between diving face first into rock or returning back where it had come from, the serpent chose the second, less painful, option.

The instant the tip of its wedge-shaped tail disappeared, Diana grabbed the definitions and slammed the hole closed. When she looked up, three dozen silver faces stared back at her, all wearing the same expectant expression. Well, probably expectant; it was surprisingly hard to judge expression on a fish.

“Okay, okay, give me a minute to catch my breath.” She tested the seal on the hole and reached into the Possibilities. Turned out there were a lot of sea lamprey in the lake, and over half of them had to be removed from living prey.

“Where’d you put them?” Sam spun around in a slow circle, lazily sculling with his tail.

“I dropped them in the Mid-Atlantic.”

“There are sharks in the Mid-Atlantic.”

“So?”

“Sharks eat lampreys.”

“Sharks eat Volkswagens. What’s your point?”

“We’ve been down here for hours, we missed lunch, and I’m hungry. Can we go now?”

“In a minute, I have one more thing to do.”

It was only a part of a jaw bone, but once it had been a part of a man who’d sailed the lakes.

Diana set the bone down beside the wreck and waited.

He hadn’t been very old. Under his knit cap, his hair was brown, long enough to wisp out over his ears, and there was a glint of red in his bad teenage moustache. He wore faded blue pants with a patch on one knee. His heavy sweater looked a little too big for him, but that may have been because he was wearing it over at least one other sweater, maybe two. At some point, not long before he’d died, he’d whacked the index finger on his left hand, leaving the nail black and blue.

Pulling the two copper coins from her pocket, Diana bent and laid one on each closed eye. “To pay the ferryman,” she said, feeling Sam’s unasked question. “He’s been in the water long enough, I think he’d like to be back on it.”

A heartbeat later, there was only the wreck and the rocks.

The coins and the jaw bone were gone.

“Now, can we go?”

Diana slung her backpack over one shoulder and picked up the cat with her other hand. “Yes. Now we can go.”

Carol Diamond was standing on the shore when she came out of the water. Her eyes were wide and her mouth worked for a moment before any sound emerged. “You went… you were… in the…”

“I went wading.”

“Wading?”

“Yes. You saw me wading. Then I came out of the water…” Diana stepped over the ridge of zebra mussel shells and set Sam down on the gravel. “…and I rolled down my jeans and put my shoes and socks back on.”

White curls bounced as she shook her head. “You were under the water!”

“Couldn’t have been. I’m completely dry.”

“But you…”

“But I what?” Diana held the older woman’s gaze.

“You went wading?”

“Yes, I did.”

“But that water must be freezing!”

“I hardly felt it.”

“Well,” Carol laughed a little uncertainly, “it must be nice to be young. Doesn’t that rock look just like an orange cat?”

“You think? I don’t see it.”

Sam sighed and headed for the dock.

Ryan sat between the two girls on the way back to the mainland. There was a fair bit of giggling from all concerned.

The lake was calm, the silvered blue broken only by the wake of the boat and a small school of herring rising to feed on the water bugs dimpling the surface.

Sam had eaten, then curled up and gone to sleep in her backpack. Dangling a bottle of water from one hand, Diana leaned back against the gunnels and listened to Gary Straum list just some of the more than fifty ships that had gone down between Point Petre and Main Duck Island. She didn’t know which ship her sailor had been from, but it didn’t really matter.

He was home now.

“The Metcalfe, the Maggie Hunter, the Gazelle, the Norway, the Atlas, the Annie Falconer, the Olive Branch, the Sheboygan, the Ida Walker, the Maple Glenn, the Lady Washington…”