Long Hot Summoning

Footsteps. Marching footsteps.

Distant, but coming closer.

Hard soles against concrete.

Hard something against concrete. Hooves, maybe? Impossible to tell.

The Keepers could feel the floor vibrate against their feet. Sam’s tail puffed out to four times its usual sleek diameter.

Diana wound her fingers through Claire’s pack straps and hauled her toward the other door. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

Closer.

A pair of snowflake paperweights vibrated so violently they shattered, spilling out miniature Grendels chewing on the bloody ends of Viking arms.

“We don’t know what’s out in the store,” Claire protested, as Diana yanked the door open.

“It’s got to be better than what’s out there!”

Sam leaped off the milk crates and raced between their legs.

“Sam thinks it’s safe! Move!”

They dove through the door after the cat. Diana slammed it behind them.

The sudden silence was almost overwhelming.

The hair lifting off his spine into an orange Mohawk, Sam moved out into the store. “It’s so thick, it’s like walking through pudding.”

“You should know,” Diana muttered, hands flat against the door, straining to hear if they’d been followed.

“That was an accident.”

“Maybe the first time. I can’t hear anything moving in the storeroom.” She turned to her sister. “You?”

“Nothing. Wait here. I’ll go back for Austin.”

“No need.”

“Sam!” Claire glared down at the younger cat…

…who ignored her, his head raised, his eyes locked on the back corner by the ceiling.

The mirror on the Otherside was a sheet of thick, silvered glass, about half a meter wide by a meter long, in an antique wooden frame. It was currently reflecting the store they’d just left. The troll flirted with the two teenage girls standing by the counter, a woman pushed a baby stroller out into the concourse, one of the rubber snakes disappeared under the pile of stuffed toys, and Austin stared down at them from beside a basket of tiny plastic music boxes.

“He’s all right.” Claire released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank God.”

“You’re welcome.”

Diana rubbed her hands over the goose bumps texturing her arms. “Uh, Claire, ixnay on the anking-thay odgay while we’re erehay. Attracts the wrong kind of attention.”

“I know.”

“I know you know. You were just relieved to see, you know.” She nodded toward the cat in the mirror.

“What’s he trying to…oh. Dean. He’s going to go to Dean.”

Eyes narrowed, Diana peered up at the ceramic name plate Austin had pushed out into the aisle. “Are those mice eating a pixie?”

“What? No, they’re eating a straw…Okay, that’s really, really gross.”

Then they were staring up at themselves.

“Hey!” Claire folded her arms and stomped one foot—which would have been a more effective protest had the tar residue not temporarily attached her heel to the carpet. She jerked it free, caught hold of a display shelf as her backpack shifted suddenly, threatening to topple her over, and snapped, “What happened?”

The blue-on-blue eyes managed to look slightly sheepish. “Sorry. Lost the signal.”

“How?” Diana demanded. “You forgot to disable call waiting?”

“No, it’s a hardware problem—those newfangled convex mirrors distort everything. Look, I’ve got to get back on duty, but don’t forget what you promised.”

She nodded. “To get you out of here before we shut the place down. I remember.”

“You remember now,” the mirror acknowledged. “Harder to remember when you’re pinned down under enemy fire.”

“What enemy fire?” But the eyes were gone and her reflection looked as annoyed as she felt. “What enemy fire?” she repeated in her sister’s general direction.

“What difference does it make? Stop thinking about it!”

Diana blanched. The Otherside built substance from the subconscious of its inhabitants and she was suddenly unable to think about anything else. Distraction, distraction…“OW!”

Looking smug, Sam removed his claw from her foot.

“So I’m suddenly less convinced that mirror’s on our side.” Dropping to one knee, she licked her finger and dabbed at the blood. “What do you think, Claire?”

“About what?” She forced her gaze off the mirror. “Sorry. I’m worried about Austin all alone in that mall.”

“Austin’s older than most of the weekend staff,” Diana reminded her. “And it goes without saying he’s smarter. I’m totally sure he’ll have no problems getting back to where we left Dean.”

“We’ve been here a while. What if Dean’s not there?”

*   *   *

His biggest problem was going to be getting out of the Emporium unseen. Capture out in the mall would mean, at most, a few unpleasant hours until he escaped custody. Capture in the store would mean mustard. Trolls put mustard on everything they ate. Usually, to kill the taste. Occasionally, to kill the food. Austin had no intention of dying by condiment.