"The easy answer?" Torina asked, manicured hand on one hip. "Magic." She compressed her lips thoughtfully. "How could I put this in layman's terms? Imagine that in an adjacent reality, this library is full of water. A sturdy container holds all of it in place. Then imagine that these fish are able to inhabit both realities at once. They are fully interacting with both realities, while we remain oblivious to the water. That description isn't exact, but it conveys the proper idea."

"Unbelievable," Kendra breathed, warily watching the sleek shark glide by almost within reach.

"We may be surrounded by barnyards and outnumbered by livestock, but not even countless miles of farmland can deny us at least a few truly sophisticated amenities."

"How do you feed them?"

"Sometimes they devour one another, though we have some magical deterrents in place, particularly on the shark. Normally we just do to their food what we did to them, leave it floating in both realities, and they find it without much trouble." Torina clapped her hands. "I have tested your patience long enough. Allow me to escort you to your room."

Kendra let Torina usher her back into the hallway. Stealing a few backward glances at the surreal aquarium, she wondered how anybody would get any reading done in there. Torina directed Kendra up some stairs to a third level, where numerous doors flanked a narrow hallway. Kendra glimpsed an old man peering from one of the doorways, but he ducked away as they approached. Paying him no heed, Torina escorted Kendra to the third door on the right.

Beyond the door awaited a frilly trundle bed, a dresser, a bookshelf, a pair of nightstands, a modest desk, and a small private bathroom. The simple room had a single window and unadorned walls.

"This will be your room while you remain here," Torina said. "You're welcome to explore this floor. Please do not wander the rest of the house except by invitation. I would rather not resort to less comfy accommodations."

"You've been pretty nice for a kidnapper," Kendra said. "Too nice. It's really weird. Are you going to fatten me up and eat me?"

Torina pursed her lips and gently scratched at the corner of her eye. "The witch references are getting tiresome, dear."

"What will you do with me? You mentioned the Sphinx."

"You answered your own question. I'll do what the Sphinx tells me."

Kendra's mouth felt dry. "Will he be coming here?"

A sly smile crept onto Torina's lips. "I am not his keeper, but I expect he will, sooner or later. Look, darling, I have no desire to make your situation harsher than necessary. Believe me, you can't escape, and nobody will find you. Don't rock the boat, and I'll keep things bearable."

Kendra doubted she could get more useful information out of Torina. "Okay. I'll try to be good."

"Sleep well, Kendra."

Torina closed the door.

Kendra sat on the edge of the bed. What would the Sphinx want? Information? Cooperation? Would he torture her? Could she resist torture? Ancient as he was, he probably knew a million ways to get people to talk. There were plenty of secrets that she needed to protect. Would he want to use her fairykind ability to recharge spent magical objects? Would he find ways to use her abilities to harm the people she loved?

She pictured the false Kendra currently sleeping in her bed. What was the impostor doing? Would she harm Seth or her parents? Supposedly the impostor had access to her memories. Was she already divulging secrets? Kendra lowered her face to her hands. By the time the Sphinx arrived, whatever secrets she possessed might be irrelevant.

There came a soft knock at the door. Kendra scooted off the bed and opened it. A pair of elderly men waited outside, one in a wheelchair, the other pushing.

"Welcome," said the man in the wheelchair. His white hair was disheveled. He wore thick horn-rimmed glasses, plaid pajamas, and felt slippers. A folded newspaper rested on his lap.

"Can we come in?" asked the man pushing the chair. Liver spots dotted his bald scalp.

"What do you want?" Kendra asked, not moving out of the way.

"To introduce ourselves," said the man in the chair. "We're your new neighbors."

The man behind the chair lowered his voice. "We know some things that might be of service." He winked.

Kendra stepped aside. "Isn't it late?"

"What do we care about late?" griped the man in the wheelchair. "Too many days are the same here. You get sick of it. A new face is front-page news." The bald man guided the wheelchair into the room.

"I'm Kendra."

"Haden," said the guy in the wheelchair. "The other geezer is Cody."

"We're not really geezers," Cody said. "I'm thirty-two. Haden is twenty-eight."

"Oh, no," Kendra said. "She drained you! What was it like? Can I ask?"

"The first bite is quick," Cody said. "It leaves you paralyzed. Then she really latches on, and you can feel your life ebbing away. Your body withers. Deflates. It doesn't hurt. It's dreamlike. Hard to describe."

"Torina can put on quite an act," Haden warned. "Don't trust her. Not for a second."

"Why do you guys live here with her?" Kendra wondered.

"We're prisoners," Haden said. "Torina chooses her victims wisely. I don't have any close relations. Even if I somehow busted out of here, old duffer like me, I'd have no place to go."

"Ditto," Cody echoed.

"So we cooperate," Haden said, resignation in his tone. "It beats the alternative."

"You don't want to end up in the basement," Cody cautioned. "Some of the other guys in our situation ended up down there. Not pleasant. They don't always return."

"How many of you are there?" Kendra asked.

Haden inflated his cheeks and exhaled slowly. "Seven, right now. Two in the basement. One on his deathbed. One mostly keeps to his room. Quiet type. And Kevin is her lap-dog. Hangs on her every word. Steer clear of Kevin."

"Two others have died since I've been here," Cody added.

"That doesn't add up," Kendra complained. "You're talking about hundreds of years of vitality. Are there lots of lectoblixes here?"

"Just her," Haden said. "She's an old one, and she's slipping. Like a reusable battery that doesn't hold a charge anymore. Every year she ages, what, at least twenty-five?"

"Closer to thirty," Cody asserted.

"She steals forty or fifty years from us and consumes them in less than two."

"How terrible," Kendra said.

"She tries not to overindulge," Cody said. "She hates to show any wrinkles, but too many disappearances and she'll have to move the whole operation, find a new lair. She's been here close to twenty years, near as we can figure."

Haden lifted the newspaper from his lap and began unfolding it. "She's on the prowl for new blood. Been running this ad in all the nearby counties for a week now." He directed Kendra's attention to a certain want ad:

Wealthy Dowager Seeks Young Male Companion [email protected] /* */

"This is how she nabs victims?" Kendra exclaimed.

Haden and Cody exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

"We were dumb enough," Cody said.

"Sounded like easy money," Haden admitted. "I was curious."

"She has something of a conscience, you see," Cody said.

"Especially when she gets on a talk-show binge," Haden interjected, rolling his eyes.

"She tells herself she's just sapping years from gold diggers. Taking from takers. 'Course, we never got a chance to take anything. And she didn't bother to find out what kind of guys we were."

"No worse than most. No malice. We just stumbled across the wrong ad."

"As some other poor fool will shortly."

"And then we'll have another new face."

Cody raised his eyebrows. "Misery loves company."

Despite the actual ages the men claimed, the duo sure acted like crotchety old fogies. It made Kendra wonder how much their aged bodies affected their personalities. "Speaking of new faces," she said, "what were you guys going to tell me? You know, to help me?"

Haden adjusted his glasses. "Don't trust her. Don't disobey or you'll end up in the basement. Don't make her angry."

Cody's face became solemn. "I saw her suck the last years out of a guy who didn't know when to lay off the insults. She got younger and he got... dead. She normally leaves her prey with some final years. She feels enough guilt to leave most of us something. But don't cross her. She's capable of ugliness like you can't imagine."

"You're scaring the girl," Haden complained. "Here's the best tip--flattery works wonders. Even when she knows you're laying it on thick, Torina can't help but respond to generous remarks. Pathetic, really. Way I see it, deep down she so desperately needs to feel admired, she absolutely treasures sugary words, especially about her looks."

"She's extra vulnerable right now, while her age is showing," Cody agreed.

Haden harrumphed. "Old or young, she's always a sucker for compliments. Not so much that she'd let you go or anything. But she'll make your life easier if you play to her vanity."

"Word to the wise," Cody said, adding a wink for emphasis.

"Now that we've made our introductions," Haden announced, "we had better leave this young lady in peace."

"Don't be in such a hurry," Cody complained. "One last question. Kendra, tell us, what did you do to earn her attention? Why did Torina bring you here?"

"Don't press her to spill her guts on a first meeting," Haden growled.

Cody shushed him.

"I think it's mainly because I have information she wants," Kendra said.

"You're part of her world," Cody confirmed. "Not some girl off the street."

"I know there are magical creatures hidden among us, along with other dangerous people like her," Kendra confirmed.

Haden and Cody nodded in silence.

"We don't know much about the supernatural," Cody said. "Only what we've gleaned since living here."

"Tread carefully," Haden advised. "We'll try to watch out for you, keep our hearing aids to the ground."

Cody wheeled Haden out the door.

"See you tomorrow, Kendra," Cody said.

"Good night, guys. Sorry you're in here."

Haden twisted in his chair and pointed at her. "Same to you but more of it."

Chapter 5 Mourning

The crusty snow gleamed beneath the winter sun, refracting the light in dazzling patterns, as if the graveyard were flooded with diamonds. Eventually the rising breeze pushed the vanguard of a fleet of threatening clouds across the sun, reducing the glare, leaving the cemetery cold and bleak. Here and there, flowers and tiny flags added splashes of color to the snow-choked graves.

Dressed in a dark blue suit, hair neatly combed, Seth sat with his back against an eight-foot obelisk, resting his wrists on his knees. The suit coat offered only flimsy protection against the chill, but he hardly noticed. His sister had recently been laid to rest in the family plot near his Grandma and Grandpa Larsen. He had quietly told his parents that he needed a few minutes by himself.

No tears pooled in Seth's eyes. He figured he had used up his lifetime allotment over the past few days. Now he felt numb and dry, as if all emotion had been wrung out of him.

Footsteps crunched through the icy snow, approaching from the side and behind. A moment later Grandpa Sorenson stood over him, hands in his pockets. "How you holding up, Seth?"

Seth kept his eyes on Grandpa's shoes. "I'm okay. How about you?" They had not found a chance to really talk yet. Grandpa and Grandma Sorenson had barely arrived in time for the services.

"You can imagine," Grandpa sighed. "The whole situation is an unbearable nightmare. We've been scrambling to piece together what happened."

Seth's head snapped up. "Find any leads?" This was what he needed. Everyone kept wallowing in the loss. He needed answers.

"Some. When you feel ready, we can--"

"I'm ready right now," Seth assured him. "I need to know how and why."

Grandpa nodded. "Some of our friends broke into the morgue and conducted an informal autopsy on Kendra. Seems to really be her. Not a changeling, at least. We still can't fathom what species of mind control may have been at work here."

"She wasn't herself," Seth stated. "It wasn't Kendra calling the shots."

"I'm sure of that," Grandpa agreed. "So is Warren. The man who ran the day care where she volunteered, Rex

Tanner, turned up dead in his condo over the weekend. What do you know about him?"

"Nothing. But that is really suspicious."

"A safe guess is that whatever happened to Kendra originated at the day care. But the trail is cold." Grandpa looked around, then motioned with one arm. "Your folks are gone. I told them I would bring you home. They were in no condition to argue. I want you to meet someone."

Seth heard more footsteps approaching, these much stealthier than Grandpa's. They rustled the snow rather than crunched. A bald black man wearing a long leather coat and dark, glossy boots came around the obelisk. Snowy gravestones reflected in his sunglasses.

"Seth, this is Trask," Grandpa said. "He's a detective and a Knight of the Dawn. He'll help us get to the bottom of this."