Nightmare

CHAPTER TEN

Kendi backpedaled, fear humming through his veins. The brim of the hat cast a shadow that hid most of the man’s face, but Kendi could see his mouth twisted into an animal snarl. Kendi whirled and dashed for the arch. Abruptly the arch snapped shut. Kendi slammed into a solid wall. Dazed, he felt hard hands grab his shoulders. They spun him around and a hard blow drove Kendi to his knees. Blood dripped from his nose, mingling with the blood from the cuts on his cheek. All Kendi could see was a pair of shins in front of him. One of them drew back to deliver a kick. Kendi drove himself forward, slamming into the man. Surprised, the man went over backward with a grunt. Kendi scrambled over him. He caught a blurred glimpse of the woman’s bloody corpse on the sofa.

Then the room came to life. The rug he was standing on ripped itself out from under him and Kendi flew sprawling into a pile of cushions. Instantly they molded themselves around him, piling about him and suffocating him. Kendi clawed at them ineffectually and wished for a knife, glittering and sharp. In that moment, he had one in his hand. Kendi cut and slashed until the stuffing flew and he came free, though he was still on the floor.

The man loomed over him. Kendi lashed out with the knife. The man leaped back. A table rushed at Kendi like a battering ram. Kendi ducked, and it slid over him. While he was still underneath it, Kendi stood up and flung the table at the man. It caught him squarely in the chest. Without looking to see more, Kendi dove for one of the windows. It shattered around him. Flying glass slashed his face and forearms as he landed on hard, flat ground, but Kendi scarcely noticed. He had to get out of the Dream, get back to his body, but he needed time to concentrate. Should he take the time now or try to get away?

The man appeared at the window, face still in shadow. He was holding a needle gun. Kendi shut his eyes and yanked his thoughts together.

If it be in my best interested and in the best interest of all life everywhere, he pleaded, let me leave the Dream.

The gun went off with a phut. Kendi braced himself for pain and felt none. He opened his eyes and found himself on his own bed in his own room. Pain scored his face, arms, and most of the rest of his body. He tried to sit up, but the room spun dizzily and he fell back. Blood stained his pillow and blanket and slicked his hands. Kendi felt dazed, as if he were only half there. He should call someone for help. But who? The room darkened around him.

"Baran," Kendi croaked. "Baran, call Mother Ara. Emergency!"

The computer connected the call and a moment later Mother Ara’s face appeared on Kendi’s white wall. Her eyes widened when she saw the blood. "Kendi! What-?"

He passed out.

The ceiling was made of beige tile. That wasn’t right. The ceiling was supposed to be white plaster. Kendi blinked, trying to figure out why it looked wrong. He put up a hand and saw it was swathed in soft bandages. Other bandages covered parts of his face and upper body. He was lying on a bed, but it wasn’t his own. How had he gotten here? He tried to sit up. A gentle hand came down on his shoulder to stop him, and Kendi looked up into Mother Ara’s concerned face.

"How do you feel?" she asked. "Are you in pain?"

Kendi checked. "No. Where am I?"

"Medical center. I called an ambulance. Can you talk? Can you tell me what happened?"

"Just a moment now." A man whose hair was as white as his coat bent over Kendi. His name tag proclaimed him Dr. Benjamin Yarmul, and Kendi immediately thought of Ben. "Can you follow my finger?"

Kendi tracked Dr. Yarmul’s finger, wiggled various bandaged appendages, and assured the doctor that he felt no pain anywhere. Another person was in the room, an Asian woman Mother Ara’s height with a carefully-woven black braid trailing down her back. She didn’t speak as the doctor examined Kendi.

"The damage was superficial," Dr. Yarmul said. "All of it psychosomatic, but still damaging nonetheless. We’ve closed your wounds and there won’t be any scars, but you’ll need to keep the bandages on until tomorrow morning just to make sure, all right? We’ll have to keep you here overnight for observation anyway."

Kendi and Mother Ara thanked the doctor, who then left. The Asian woman came forward and took his place next to Kendi’s bed.

"This is Inspector Lewa Tan," Mother Ara said. "She’s from the Guardians."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Tan asked. Her voice was gravelly, odd for a woman.

"I was attacked. In the Dream." Kendi tried to sit up again. This time the bed tilted upward with him until he was in a reclining position.

"Did you see who attacked you?" Tan asked.

Kendi shook his head. "Not really. He wore a hat that kept his face all shadowy."

"But it was definitely a man," Tan said.

"Yeah."

"Are you up to telling the entire story," Mother Ara said, "or do you want to rest?"

"I can talk." Kendi shifted position beneath the crisp white hospital sheets and explained what had happened to him. Tan held what Kendi assumed was a recording device. Mother Ara listened attentively. Kendi had thought he was fine, but by the end of it he was sweating and his heart pounded as if it had happened to him again as he told it. The bandages reminded him of the suffocating couch cushions, and he had the sudden urge to tear them off. The man was pointing a needle pistol at him, and the hospital room felt small and confining, with no place to run. He forced himself to take deep breaths and continue talking, though the sweat turned cold on his body.

"And then I called you, Mother," he finished. "That was pretty much it."

Tan leaned forward. "Kendi, you saw the killer write a number on the woman’s forehead. What was the number again?"

"Fourteen."

Tan and Mother Ara exchanged glances. "You’re sure it was fourteen and not thirteen?" Mother Ara asked.

"Positive," Kendi said. "Why?"

"Just making sure," Tan said.

"So how long was I out?" Kendi asked.

"About four hours," Mother Ara told him. "You scared me out of my wits. Ben’s outside. You scared him, too, and he insisted on coming down."

"Ben?" Kendi’s heart leaped. "Ben’s outside? Can he come in?"

"In a moment." Tan leaned closer. "I need you to answer a few more questions. If you’re up to it."

Kendi leaned back against the pillows. "Yeah, okay. Go ahead."

Tan went back over parts of his story, gently asking for more detail here, a simple retelling there. More details surfaced as Kendi spoke, and he reported them to Tan and Mother Ara.

"We still don’t know who the victim is," Tan said. "Though if she was wearing a gold medallion, she was probably a Child. Did you recognize her from the description, Ara?"

Mother Ara shook her head. "There are thousands of Children."

"Then I guess we’ll have to do it through old-fashioned detective work," Tan said grimly.

"Any more questions?" Kendi felt tired now, and his eyelids drooped.

"Not for the moment," Tan said. "Though I’ll want to go over it with you one more time a little later, when you’re rested."

"You should sleep now, Kendi." Mother Ara patted his shoulder. "Inspector?"

"Wait," Kendi said. "I wanna see Ben."

"I’ll bring him by in the morning," Mother Ara said.

"No." Kendi roused himself. "I want to see him now."

Mother Ara looked at the Inspector, who shrugged and opened door. She gestured into the hallway, and Ben rushed into the room, his face even paler than usual.

"Kendi!" he said. "Are you all right? You look like shit. I mean-you didn’t-you-"

"I’m okay," Kendi said. "I’m glad you came by."

"What happened to you?" he demanded. "Mom said she thought you were hurt in the Dream, but we didn’t know for sure and they wouldn’t let me in to see you and-"

Mother Ara put a hand on Ben’s arm. "He’s fine, Ben. Don’t tire him out. I’ll tell you about it when we get home."

Ben flushed. "Sorry. I was just-you know."

"Yeah." Kendi’s head drooped. " ‘S okay. I’m glad you …you were …"

"Let’s leave him now," Mother Ara murmured. But Kendi was already asleep.

In the hallway outside Kendi’s room, Ara gave Ben some money and asked him to go get her some juice. The moment he was out of earshot, she turned to Inspector Tan.

"Number fourteen," Ara said. "Did he skip a number?"

"Either that, or there’s a corpse we haven’t found yet," Tan replied. "Let me check with the ME." Tan took a small phone out of her pocket, spoke rapidly into it, paused, then sighed and hung up. "Examiner says the finger sewn to the victim Kendi saw does not belong to Iris Temm. So there’s definitely another corpse hiding out there somewhere."

Ara didn’t know how to respond, so she said nothing.

"You should go home," Tan continued. "I’ve got to try and track down who and where the victim actually is. We’ll meet here in the morning to go over Kendi’s story one more time."

Ara agreed. The next morning, she and Inspector Tan questioned Kendi again, but no new details came to light. Ara, unwilling to let Kendi stay by himself, installed him in her guest bedroom with orders to spend the remainder of the day being quiet. To Ara’s surprise, Kendi didn’t protest at the confinement. Ben, meanwhile, offered to stay home and keep him company.

"Teenagers," Ara said to Tan on the front porch. "For weeks they fight doing what you tell them, and then out of nowhere they up and volunteer to do the right thing."

"Especially when it involves missing a day of school," Tan observed.

Ara, enjoying a proud maternal moment, ignored this. "Did you learn who the victim was?"

"Her name was Vera Cheel," Tan rasped.

"How did you find her?"

"Checked to see if anyone on duty in the Dream didn’t turn in the transcriptions of their communications. Cheel’s name popped right up. Linus is already at her house. Let’s go."

Vera Cheel’s house was larger than Iris Temm’s, and tidier as well. The body had been taken away by the time Ara and Tan got there, for which Ara was grateful.

"What …condition was she in?" Ara asked as they entered Cheel’s living room. It was bright and airy, with several potted plants scattered tastefully about. A vase filled with lush red roses sat on the coffee table. Half a dozen technicians were going over the different rooms with scanning equipment. Tan’s partner Linus Gray was in deep discussion with one of them, and he gave them a distracted wave as they entered.

"Same as Iris Temm," Tan told her. "Pretty much bludgeoned and crushed to death while she was in the Dream."

"I suppose we should go into the Dream and get a look, then." Ara fingered the dermospray in her pocket. "It’s been less than a day since Vera was killed, so the images will be stronger, I think."

"You sound hesitant," Tan said. "What’s wrong?"

Ara pursed her lips, not wanting to give voice to her thoughts. But a killer was on the loose, and they couldn’t afford to let a potential lead slip away. "I was wondering if I should take Kendi in with me."

"Why?"

"Kendi saw the incident," Ara explained. "His mind could strengthen the images and we might get more details, both sensory and impressionistic."

"And if Kendi’s there, we might get more insights into the killer’s mind," Tan said.

Ara nodded. "But he’s just a student. He reached the Dream for the first time only last week. Not only did he witness the murder, he was attacked by the killer. Kendi’s strong, but he’s been through a lot in his life as it is, and I don’t want to add to his burdens by making him watch the whole thing again."

"Irfan Qasad said that all sentient life is sacred," Tan pointed out. "Murder’s the most horrible crime there is. It’s our duty to use whatever methods we can to track this man down."

"I know. But I also have a duty to my student’s safety and well-being."

"Well," Tan said slowly, "let’s ask and let him decide. Now that I think about it, we need to get back to your house as soon as possible."

"What? Why?"

"I’ll tell you when we get there," Tan said, "and we ask Kendi."

"The problem," Ara sighed, "is that I know what he’ll say."

"Yes," Kendi said. "I can do it right now."

They were back in Ara’s living room. Tan, who had put the question to him, nodded. Ben sat quietly in the corner, his blue eyes quietly taking in the entire scene. Ara still felt misgivings. Kendi was only sixteen and not the most level-headed among the students at the monastery. On the other hand, he wouldn’t be in any actual danger at a re-creation, and Ara would be right there with him.

"We should do it at Vera’s house," Ara said, "so the minds around us will be as similar as possible to the ones she herself used to get into the Dream yesterday."

"What about me?" Ben said as they headed for the door.

"You stay here," Ara instructed. "We’ll be back as soon as we can."

"What do you mean about the minds being the same?" Kendi asked, excited. The cuts on his face and hands had faded to fine, pinkish lines.

While Ara explained, Tan drew Ben aside and spoke to him rapidly. His face, which had been filled with disappointment, changed to a more thoughtful expression. He stayed behind without protest as Ara, Kendi, and Tan left the house.

"What did you tell him?" Ara asked.

Tan shot a glance at Kendi. "I told him it was his job to keep all this as quiet as possible and I asked him to scan the news for me. Too many people know about the attack on Kendi-the hospital personnel, for example-and I’m afraid that once the services get hold of it, Kendi’s going to be in some danger."

"Danger?" Kendi asked. "What do you mean?"

"The killer knows you saw him," Tan explained. "The killer knows what you look like, unless-I don’t suppose you’re one of those Silent who looks different in the Dream than in the solid world?"

"No."

"Damn. Anyway, that means the killer may be looking for you. You’re a witness. I didn’t really think of it before, and that’s why I wanted to come back."

Kendi shot a nervous glance around him, as if the killer might drop out of the branches. "But I don’t know what he looks like. He didn’t have a face."

"And that’s a point in your favor," Tan agreed. "So we definitely don’t want anyone knowing that you’re helping us in the Dream. That would only give the killer more reason to come after you."

Ara stopped on the boardwalk. "Wait a minute. You’re saying that if the killer finds out Kendi’s aiding the investigation, Kendi would be in danger?"

"Possibly," Tan said.

"Then forget it. Kendi, you’re going back to the house. The Inspector and I will do this alone."

"It’s only a danger if someone finds out," Tan said reasonably. "News services don’t even know who the victim was yet, so there won’t be any reporters hanging around the house. No one will even know."

"Mother Ara," Kendi said, "let me do this. I want to help. Didn’t Irfan say that all sentient life is sacred?"

"Oh no," Ara groaned. "Not you, too."

"The Real People believe the same thing," he continued. "I have to help if I can."

"This isn’t an adventure, Kendi," Ara said. "It’s bloody and gory and it’s going to be unpleasant."

"I already saw it once," Kendi countered. "I’m still here."

In the end, Ara let herself be persuaded. They went back to Vera Cheel’s house and found it empty. The technicians had completed their scans and left. Outside, dirty clouds had gathered, obscuring the sun and cooling the breeze. The red roses on the coffee table made a sharp, colorful contrast with the dreary sky. Ara wondered where Vera’s body had been found, then decided she didn’t want to know. Linus Gray was nowhere to be seen, and Ara assumed he was out canvassing the neighborhood. There was a certain tension in the room. Ara herself still held reservations about involving Kendi. Kendi, she was sure, was nervous, and Tan was probably anxious to get on with it.

"Let’s hit the Dream," Tan said, confirming Ara’s suspicions. "I’ll take the easy chair, if you don’t mind."

"The couch is fine with me," Ara said tightly. "Kendi usually stands."

Kendi had brought his spear and dermospray. The dermospray was red instead of black, indicating it belonged to a student. "Does this count as a practice session?" he asked with a grin. Tan snorted and some of the tension eased.

"I suppose it does," Ara laughed. "Your dermospray will still transmit the fact that you used a dose of medication back to the dispensary for your practice record. The dispensary computer doesn’t care why you used it. Kendi, since you’re new to this, you probably can’t leave the Dream unsculpted, so we’ll have to meet on your turf. That’ll be easier."

Tan sat, Ara lay down, and Kendi positioned himself on his spear. A triple thump went through the room as three dermosprays shoved the medication home. Ara let the colors swirl around the inside of her eyelids for a moment, then opened her eyes to a pleasure garden. A carpet of grass lay thick and green beneath her slippered feet, and a stone fountain tinkled musically behind her, the sound mingling with the ever-present whispering of the Dream. Orange and pear blossoms scented the soft air. Ara wore a green robe with a close-fitting hood. The garden was her own safe place, and she liked it a great deal. But there was no time for personal enjoyment. She closed her eyes and cast her perceptions into the whispers around her until she found Kendi’s voice. Once she caught his whisper, she gathered her concentration. She was here but she wanted to be there, and she would be there now.

Ara released her expectations of reality. There was a slight wrench and she opened her eyes in a large, dry cave. Kendi stood a few steps away. His mind, however, was everywhere, pressing against her, unconsciously ordering her not to dictate reality here. Ara obeyed, though it was difficult. To distract herself, she glanced about curiously. She had only been in Kendi’s cave a couple times and she found it a very interesting starting point.

"I do like this place," she said. "It suits you."

"Weird," he said, tugging at the white shirt he wore. "When you appeared like that, it felt like I was in a swimming pool and someone threw in a big rock."

"You’re very sensitive to other people in the Dream," Ara said. "Some Silent can barely detect another person’s presence." She gave him a critical look. "Father Ched-Hisak told me you usually wear a loincloth or even appear naked here. Why the shorts and shirt?"

Kendi flushed. "I–I don’t-"

"You can wear whatever you like on your own turf," Ara said seriously. "Dream etiquette. And you’re expected to dress the people who visit your turf in whatever you deem appropriate. This robe I’m wearing is fine for my pleasure garden but is a little impractical for spelunking, don’t you think?"

In response, Ara’s robe changed into a khaki explorer’s outfit. Kendi’s clothing, however, remained the same. "I’ll keep what I’m wearing for now," he said, a little less embarrassed.

And then Inspector Tan was there. For a moment, she appeared to be wearing an embroidered yellow robe, but it quickly changed into brown khakis similar to Ara’s.

"I felt her coming," Kendi explained.

Tan gave the cave a quick glance. "Nice," she said. "Let’s go."

They followed the exit tunnel up to the Outback. The desert lay before them, filling the world from horizon to horizon.

"Let’s teleport to a blank space," Tan said. "It’ll be faster than having our host let go of the world."

"I …don’t know how to do that," Kendi said. "Teleport, I mean."

"Take my hand," Ara said. "I’ll move you."

Kendi obeyed. Ara was here but she wanted to be there, and she would be there now. Another wrench, and the Outback vanished, replaced by a flat, empty plain. The Dream whispering was loud here. The moment they appeared, Kendi released Ara, dropped to hands and knees, and vomited. Alarmed, Ara knelt beside him. His Dream body flickered, semi-transparent for a moment, then solidified. Kendi threw up again.

"Kendi," Ara said. "Kendi, what’s wrong?"

Kendi looked up at her. "I’m sick. All life-it’s like bad flu. Oh god." He vomited yet again, a thin, clear fluid.

"The teleportation," Tan said. "He wasn’t ready for it."

"The nausea will pass, Kendi," Ara said. "Just wait a moment."

Kendi spent a fair amount of time in dry heaves. Ara remained on the ground next to him while Tan waited with scarcely-disguised impatience. Finally Kendi got to his feet, face a bit green. Ara held out an empty hand. There would be a glass of cold water in it, and there would be one now. One appeared, and she handed it to Kendi, who accepted it gratefully. He rinsed out his mouth, spat, and took a long drink.

"We’ll work on this," Ara promised. "Are you ready to go on?" He nodded. "Then let’s get started. I want you to close your eyes and empty your mind, as if you were going to meditate, then concentrate on what you remember about the murder. I’m going to be building a scene using your memories as well as those of the solid-world minds around us. You have to allow me to read your mind, all right?"

Kendi nodded. The sickness had left his face entirely. Ara put her hands on the sides of his head and he closed his eyes. Ara concentrated on the whisper, now nearly a shout, that was Kendi’s mind. Images and sensations swirled around her. (Blood, blond hair, chains, a number, fear, horror, pain.) Ara widened her senses to the greater whispering around her and gathered images from that as well. (Shadow-faced man, tidy house, shattered glass, bloody finger.) Carefully but with swift skill, Ara arranged the images into a picture like a archaeologist arranging a fossilized skeleton. (Hot anger, cold love, metallic gun.) When it was done, she released Kendi and opened her eyes.

The three of them were in Vera Cheel’s patchwork living room. Varieties and styles of furniture clashed and melded. Vera sat on a sofa, chatting with Ched-Balaar Ara didn’t recognize. A part of Ara that was beginning to think like a detective mused that they would have to track the alien down for an interview. This scene was clearer, far clearer than the first one Ara had recreated for Tan. Ara could feel Vera’s contentment. She was sure of herself in the Dream, confident of her abilities. And she liked her strange living room.

As Ara watched, the Ched-Balaar vanished. Vera ran her hands through short blond hair, started to stand, and came up short. Mystified, she raised a hand. It clinked. Her wrist was bound with a black wristband and chain that extruded from under the sofa cushions. So was her other wrist and her ankles. The air turned cold. Fear rose in Vera’s chest. She hadn’t created the chains. They would be gone. They would be gone now. But they remained. Ara’s heart started to beat faster.

A blackness touched the room. Suppressed rage mixed with desire and …love? A door opened, and a man dressed in black entered. A wide-brimmed hat hid his face in shadow. He strode toward Vera, who screamed. Vera tried to gather her concentration to leave the Dream, to escape, but the couch moved beneath her and the cushions themselves folded themselves about her body. More chains snaked out and wound tight and cold around her body. Terror swept over Vera and disrupted her concentration. A knife appeared in the man’s hand and he loomed over his victim. He bent down and said something to Vera, who only screamed again. Rage swept over Ara in waves, and he slashed quickly. Blood flowed, and Vera cried out. It went on and on. Ara was vaguely aware of Inspector Tan vaulting over the furniture, trying to get behind the couch so she could get a look at the man’s face.

And then Kendi was there-another Kendi. Ara glanced at her student to make sure he was also still beside her. He was, eyes wide, lips compressed. The man cut off Vera’s finger just as she died and wrote a bloody number on her forehead. Ara felt a tiny blank moment, a barely-discernable flicker as Vera’s Dream form vanished and was replaced by the power of the man standing over her. Dream Kendi swore, and the man lunged for him. Ara watched them struggle, saw the furniture erupt into movement, felt Dream Kendi’s own fear and terror. Finally Dream Kendi crashed through the window and disappeared. The man stood in the window for a moment, then howled once and vanished. Vera’s living room went with it, leaving Ara, Kendi, and Tan alone on a blank plain. Tan was breathing hard.

Ara stood stock-still. Her mouth was dry as salt and she felt weak as a dishrag. A quick glance at Kendi showed he felt the same. His skin was ashen.

"I didn’t see his face," Tan reported. "I don’t think he has one in the Dream."

"We need to get out of here," Ara croaked. "Kendi, you go and I’ll make sure you get out before I follow, all right?"

Kendi only nodded. A moment later, he vanished and the Dream energy around them rushed in to fill the empty space. Without another word to Tan, Ara herself let go of the Dream.

Kendi sat shakily on the couch next to Mother Ara after she sat up. Rain pattered gray tears against the windows. Kendi’s hands shook and nausea oozed in his stomach. He had thought he could handle seeing it all again, but he had been wrong. This time he had felt the emotions of both people involved. Vera Cheel’s fear, terror, and helplessness stayed with him, mingling with a horrible mixture of rage and love. It made him sick and scared all at once, and he felt horribly alone.

An arm came around his shoulder and drew him into a motherly embrace. Kendi buried his face in Mother Ara’s shoulder and for a moment pretended she was Rebecca Weaver. Everything was going to be all right. He wasn’t there. The Dream wasn’t real. After a while, he became aware that Mother Ara was saying these things aloud to him, and he let them sink in. Then he broke away, eyes wet with tears he didn’t remember shedding.

"Are you okay?" Mother Ara asked. Her face was drawn and concerned. "I had no idea it would be that strong, Kendi. There’s no way I would have let you-"

"It’s all right," he said. "I’ll be okay. But all life-it was horrible."

"And we need to discuss it," Tan put it from the armchair. "Now. Before we forget any of it."

"I don’t think I’ll forget any of it for as long as I live," Mother Ara said. "Aren’t you upset by any of this?"

"I’m upset that the killer is walking free," Tan said grimly. "Let’s go over it. Talking about it may make all of us feel better, in any case."

"Kendi," Mother Ara said, "why you don’t you go and-"

"No," Kendi interrupted. "I want to help. He did awful things to her, and I don’t want him to do it again to someone else."

"Let’s at least go somewhere else," Mother Ara insisted. "Maybe get something to eat. It’ll help us to concentrate on our bodies and dampen the emotions."

The three of them decided to meet at a nearby restaurant. The canopy of talltree leaves kept them reasonably dry as long as they stayed under the branches, but they had to dash across the open spaces between the trees. They arrived at the restaurant damp and breathless.

It was a little early for lunch yet, and Tan got them a booth at the back where they could talk in privacy. The restaurant was warm and dark, and the server was friendly. Mother Ara refused to let anyone discuss the case until their food had arrived. Once they had all eaten a little, Tan put her recorder on the table, and they described what had happened. Kendi was glad to discover that Mother Ara had been correct-it was easier to remain level-headed about the entire thing with some food in him.

"My earlier suspicions were correct, then," Mother Ara said. "The killer has a very strong will, and he can attack people by forcing a new shape on the turf in Dream. That’s hard to do."

"Agreed," Tan said. "Most Silent simply aren’t this powerful, just like most people don’t have the physical strength to kill someone with their bare hands. Good thing, too. Otherwise Dream killings would be far more common."

"He knows the victims," Kendi put in. "I think he even …loves them? Or thinks he does. I felt that."

"So did I." Mother Ara sipped thoughtfully at her drink. "Though he may not know them personally. He may be stalking them without actually meeting or talking to them first."

"My research tells me that most serial killers do stalk their victims," Tan said. "If this one can find his women in the Dream, it means he may have touched them in the real world. That, and the fact that he’s doing his little finger trick, means he’s somewhere on Bellerophon. A relief."

"A relief?" Mother Ara asked.

"Yes. It’ll make him easier to catch." Tan tucked a stray strand of black hair back into her braid. "Imagine if he were on another planet. We’d never have a hope."

"What was the number fourteen?" Kendi said. "He wrote it on her forehead."

"He wrote the number twelve on the forehead of Iris Temm," Mother Ara pointed out.

"Is he numbering them-his women, I mean?" Kendi asked, startled. "If he is, there must be a number thirteen our there somewhere."

Tan gave him an appraising look. "We were thinking the same thing yesterday. Pretty smart."

Kendi felt his face grow warm at the praise and he hid behind his juice glass.

"There have only been three other Dream murders." Mother Ara put her elbows on the table. "Prinna Meg, Wren Hamil, and Iris Temm."

"Which means there are either a lot of victims we don’t know about-and they aren’t necessarily on Bellerophon-" Tan said, "or maybe he isn’t numbering his victims but is doing something else. Maybe he’s using only even numbers for some reason."

"I think there’s a dead body somewhere that no one’s found yet," Kendi said. He took a long drink of fruit juice. It was slightly tangy, just as he liked it, and he wondered about the strangeness of it. Less than a day ago he had watched a woman murdered and today he was drinking fruit juice. Vera Cheel would never drink fruit juice again, and that made him sad and angry, even though he had never met her. Not really.

You’re being stupid, he told himself. You don’t even know if she liked fruit juice. Still, the feelings remained. He pushed the drink aside.

Mother Ara sipped from her own glass again. "What do the women have in common? We’ve been over it before, but is there something we’ve overlooked?"

"Female, adult, Silent, associated with Children of Irfan." Tan ticked her fingers. "Ages have varied from young adult to middle age. There doesn’t seem to be a pattern to where they live, either, or to the dates or times he kills them. If he was friends with all four of them, we should be comparing lists of people the victims were acquainted with."

"We need more information." Mother Ara glanced at her fingernail. "It’s early yet. Maybe I should take another look at the murder scenes."

"You?" Tan raised her eyebrows. "You’re a consultant, Mother Ara, not an investigator. And Kendi here is just a witness."

"I can help," Mother Ara said. "I know how the Silent mind works-"

"And I don’t?" Tan said.

"Your partner isn’t Silent," Mother Ara pointed out. "I’m another Silent you can bounce ideas off and who might catch something you miss. It can’t hurt to have me along."

"Me, too," Kendi put in quickly.

Both women turned their gazes on him. "Kendi," Mother Ara began, "you can’t think-"

"You just said that I’m an important witness," Kendi interrupted. "And you said that if the killer finds out about me, my life could be in danger, right?"

"Right," Mother Ara said warily.

"So it would be safest if I stayed in the company of the police-Guardians," Kendi said.

"I could assign someone to guard you," Tan said.

Kendi winced and tried not to show it. The idea of someone following him around all day and night-no. For one thing, it would be difficult to talk to Ben. "I can help, too. I saw things no one else did, and I felt some of the things-" a cold shudder passed through him and he tried to hide that, too "-some of the things the killer did. I might notice something the two of you miss."

They argued further, but in the end, Tan agreed that it couldn’t do any harm for Kendi and Mother Ara to look around the murder scenes. Tan paid the bill and got up.

"Since you’re both so eager," she said, "let’s start with Iris Temm’s house."

"She died a year ago," Mother Ara said as they left the restaurant. The rain had let up, though the heavy clouds remained. "Hasn’t the place been sold?"

Tan shook her head. "Only living relative was a sister. Woman can’t bring herself to go into the house yet or have someone dispose of the stuff inside. It’s stood vacant."

The trip to Temm’s house involved three slippery walkways and a gondola ride. Kendi rested his chin on the gondola rail and watched green forest coast by below. The air smelled of rain and leaves. A bit of excitement grew inside him. Ben would probably be impressed that the Guardians had taken Kendi into the houses of two murder victims in one day, and Kendi could hardly wait to tell him. Then a bit of guilt stabbed him. These women were dead, and all Kendi could think about was impressing Ben? All life, he was selfish. Still, he found himself looking forward to going back to Mother Ara’s house and seeing him.

They finally arrived at Iris’s tiny house. The windows were shut and the door was locked. Wet, dead leaves were scattered about the porch. Tan pressed her thumb to the doorplate and the lock clicked open. Kendi took a deep breath and followed Mother Ara inside.

It took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the gloomy interior. The air was stuffy and smelled faintly sour. After a moment, Kendi made out a living room filled with second-hand, mismatched furniture and an upright piano. A patina of dust coated everything. Kendi half expected to see a skeleton lying on the couch and chided himself for being ridiculous. Temm would have been buried long ago. Still, a vague feeling of unease crept over him. This was a dead woman’s house, and it had been left just as it was on the day she had died. The Real People told ghost stories, and he shivered at the thought of encountering a pale, angry Iris Temm with a number twelve dripping scarlet down her forehead.

Tan opened a couple windows. The fresh air helped clear away some of Kendi’s unease but didn’t entirely erase it. "Look around," she said. "You can touch anything you want-the techs have been through half a dozen times."

Kendi poked about the living room but saw nothing that caught his eye. A small foil-wrapped box sat on one of the wooden end tables and he took off the lid. A dozen chocolates, though an empty space gaped like a missing tooth. The remaining ones were covered with a white film. Kendi made a face and replaced the lid. Mother Ara, who was drumming her fingers on the piano, gave him an odd look but didn’t say anything. When Kendi moved away from the table, Mother Ara also reached down and took up the box.

Next Kendi tried the bedroom. The dust made him want to sneeze but he held it back. It seemed disrespectful somehow to spray saliva in a dead woman’s bedroom. He opened a window to let in air and the smell of rain, then looked around. The bed was normal but had been stripped of its linens. Had Iris been on it when she was …? No. Mother Ara had mentioned that the body was found in the living room. Night stand, lamp, dresser. Nothing out of the ordinary.

What were you expecting? he thought. A big box with the word "clue" written on it?

A bit of thunder rumbled in the distance. Kendi reached for the closet, then hesitated. The knob was cool under his hand. Various childhood fears came back to him. This was a dead woman’s house, a dead woman’s closet. More thunder grumbled. Ghostly images loomed in Kendi’s mind, spirits reaching for his throat with hands that showed bloody stumps of missing fingers.

"This bugs me," came Mother Ara’s voice from the living room, "but I can’t say why."

Her words broke the spell. With a snort at his own silliness, Kendi flung the door open. He saw a perfectly ordinary closet. Dresses, robes, and blouses hung from hangers, all neatly placed. A series of shelves held sweaters. Several pairs of shoes made a perfect row on the floor, and several more were jumbled together in a heap. A bunch of scarves drooped from a set of hooks, one to a hook, all grouped by color.

Something struck Kendi as wrong. He stared into the closet trying to figure out what it was. He looked harder, then stepped back to get the full picture. Something was out of place. Something-

It was the shoes. Kendi knelt on the floor to get a closer look. Most of them were in a row, but a bunch were heaped up.

And then Kendi had it. Everything in the closet was perfectly neat and tidy, including most of the shoes. The jumbled ones were the only messy part of the whole closet, and their presence didn’t make sense. He was reaching for a sandal when something made a slamming noise from the living room and Mother Ara cried out. Kendi jumped up and rushed out, heart pounding.

Mother Ara was in the living room. A handprint in the dust on the piano lid showed where she had smacked it, presumably in triumph. Tan stood by the couch, her braid over one shoulder.

"What’s the matter?" Tan and Kendi asked in unison.

"The chocolates," Mother Ara said. "They were bothering me, but I couldn’t say why. I didn’t especially notice them before."

"Neither did I," Tan rasped. "So what?"

"There’s a chocolate missing. See?" Mother Ara opened the box and held it so Tan could get a look.

"She probably ate one," Tan said. Then her expression grew interested. "You think the killer ate it? Might be able to find traces of saliva, but it’s a slim-"

"No," Mother Ara interrupted. "I saw Iris’s medical records. Wasn’t she allergic to chocolate?"

Tan rubbed her chin. "I think she was, yeah. So why-"

"— would she have chocolates in the house at all?" Mother Ara finished with a victorious gleam in her eye. "Her boyfriend would almost certainly have known about her allergy and not given them to her. And she herself wouldn’t have eaten one. So who gave them to her and who took the missing one?"

"It’s worth asking the boyfriend about," Tan said doubtfully. "Might have brought them over for himself. Or she might have bought them for him and he left them here."

"I may be grasping at straws here," Mother Ara said, "but Iris was the twelfth victim. There were twelve chocolates in the box and now one is missing. What if the killer ‘gave’ them to her and then took one himself?"

Tan still looked doubtful. "We’ll check into it, I guess. Don’t get your hopes up, though."

"Maybe we should count the shoes," Kendi said.

Blank looks followed. Kendi took the two women into the bedroom and explained. "Iris was too neat to leave her shoes jumbled around like that," he finished excitedly. "Maybe the killer did it or something."

"But why would he?" Tan asked.

"I don’t know," Kendi admitted. "But serial killers do weird stuff, right? Maybe this is one of them." He knelt down and started sorting shoes. With the air of someone who was humoring a child, Tan joined in. Mother Ara watched from the door. In short order, they discovered there were eleven shoes in the pile. Ten of them made pairs, leaving one extra. The trio searched the closet, then looked under the bed and in the dresser. The mate was nowhere to be found.

"It’s a clue," Kendi said breathlessly. "Twelve shoes, but one’s missing. Twelve chocolates, but one’s missing."

Tan was looking more excited now. "Twelve victims, but one finger is missing. The killer is taking souvenirs. Dammit, I can’t believe we missed this."

"Fresh pairs of eyes," Mother Ara said. "Do you suppose there’s anything like this in the other houses?"

Visibly restraining her enthusiasm, Tan got to her feet. "We should search through this house first. Look for anything else that comes in twelves-eggs, flowers, sets of dishes, anything. And good work. Both of you."

Kendi glowed with pride and excitedly set to work searching the rest of the house, but no other sets of twelve came up. Tan gathered up the shoes and the chocolates as evidence, though she said there was little hope of finding anything on them.

"The killer’s too smart to leave his DNA on them," she explained.

"What about sweeping for trace DNA?" Mother Ara said. "If the killer came in to cut off Iris’s finger and take souvenirs, he couldn’t avoid leaving skin cells behind."

"The same," Tan replied, "goes for all the other people who have ever set foot in this house. It’s at least thirty years old. If we sweep for trace DNA, we’ll get hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of sequences. It would take years just to sort them out, let alone identify who they belonged to. Come on-I want to get another look at Vera Cheel’s house."

Mother Ara turned to Kendi. "You don’t need to come," she said. "Cheel’s house is a recent crime scene, and there’s a greater chance the news services will have found out about it and be there by now."

"I was there before," Kendi protested.

"Only because I needed you there to recreate the Dream scene," Mother Ara said firmly. "That was risky enough. I don’t want you endangered, and I certainly don’t want your face skating up and down the news webs. Inspector Tan and I can handle this ourselves." She put a hand on his shoulder. "You were invaluable, Kendi. None of us will forget that, all right? I promise I’ll tell you all about it."

"Just don’t talk to anyone else," Tan added.

"But what am I supposed to do all day?" Kendi asked, feeling only slightly mollified by Mother Ara’s words.

"Do what you like, as long as you don’t stay by yourself." She cleared her throat. "Kendi, I know this is a sensitive issue with you, but-well, I’d feel a lot better if you talked about this with someone. You witnessed a horrible act and you were almost killed. You really should talk about this with-"

"Not right now," Kendi said. "I’m okay. A little shaky, but okay. I don’t need a therapist-or a counselor."

"Kendi, you can’t-" Mother Ara halted and pressed her lips together at the expression on Kendi’s face. "All right. We’ll discuss it later. Like I said, do what you like for now. Go to class if you feel up to it, or stay at my house for the day."

With Ben. Kendi scratched his ear. Maybe being left out wouldn’t be so bad after all.