Long Hot Summoning

“Okay,” she whispered into the top of Sam’s head. “I am officially squicked out. Where did they find that guy? He’s like every creepy, clichéd old man rolled into one wrinkly package and wrapped in a security guard’s uniform. I mean, I know he’s just a Bystander and I handled him at the door, but still…”

“Still what?”

“You know, still.”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked,” Sam pointed out, squirming to be let down. “And by the way, we’ve found the food court.”

Only six of the seven food kiosks were currently occupied. Directly across from them, a poster on plywood announced the future site of a Darby’s Deli. At some point, a local artist had used a black marker to make a few additions to the poster’s picture of Darby Dill, creating a remarkably well hung condiment. Tearing her gaze away from the anatomically correct pickle, Diana spotted yet another hall on the far side of the food court, the rectangular opening tucked into the corner between Consumer’s Drug Mart and a sporting goods store.

“It’s got to be down there.”

“Why?”

“Because it isn’t anywhere…What are you eating?”

Sam swallowed. “Nothing.”

As they entered the hall, the tile turned to a rough concrete floor. The bench and its flanking planters of plastic trees, although outwardly no different from other benches and other trees, had a temporary look. Only three stores long, the hall ended in a gray plywood wall stenciled with a large sign that read, “Construction Site: No Entry.” The last store before the wall was the Emporium.

Tucked into another convenient shadow, Diana studied the storefront through narrowed eyes. “I can’t sense a power signature, so I’m guessing the power surge only went one way.”

“If they’d known you were coming, they’d have baked a cake?”

She stared down at the cat. “Something like that, yeah. Who…?”

“Your father.”

“Well, do me a favor and don’t pick up any more of his speech patterns because that would be too weird.”

“Why?”

“Sam, you sleep on my bed. Just don’t, okay?”

He shrugged, clearly humoring her. “Okay.”

Diana turned her attention back to the store. “They’re not being very subtle, are they? If any of the Lineage had ever window-shopped their way down here, the name alone would have given the whole thing away.”

“The Lineage is big into window shopping?”

“Not my point.”

“Okay. But I think Erlking Emporium has a marketable ring to it.”

“Marketable? First of all, you’re a cat; marketable for you involves a higher percentage of beef byproducts. Second; do you even know what an Erlking is?”

Sam shot her an insulted amber glare, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth in short, choppy arcs. “According to German legend, it’s a malevolent goblin who lures people, especially children, to their destruction.”

Which it was. “Sorry. I keep forgetting about that whole used-to-be-an-angel had-higher-knowledge thing.”

“Yeah, you do. But I learned that off a PBS special on mythology.”

“While I was where?”

“Cleaning the splattered remains of a history essay off your bedroom walls.”

“Right.” A lapse in concentration and the Riel Rebellion had spilled out of her closet. It had taken her the entire weekend to clean up the mess, and most of it had turned out to be nonrecyclable. “I think I’ve seen enough. Let’s go.”

The purely physical lock on the door took only a trickle of power to open.

Sam radiated disapproval as he slipped through into the store. “Breaking and entering.”

“Technically, only entering.” Locking the door behind them, Diana tried not to sneeze at the overpowering odor of gardenia coming off the display of candles immediately to her left. A quick glance showed that the gardenia had easily overpowered vanilla, cinnamon, bayberry, lilac, belladonna, monkshood, pholiotina, and yohimbe. Unless the Colonial Candle Company was branching out into herbal hallucinogens, at least half the display had clearly been brought over from the Otherside.

Not just the bracelet, then.

Rubbing her nose, she moved cautiously into the store, skirting a locked glass cabinet filled with crystal balls, and ending up nearly treading on Sam’s tail as, hissing, he backed away from…Diana bent over to take a closer look and had no better idea what animal the pile of stuffed creatures was supposed to represent. In spite of neon fur, they looked remarkably lifelike—given a loose enough definition of both life and like.

“I was just startled,” Sam muttered, vigorously washing a front paw.

“If I was closer to the ground, they’d have startled me, too.”

“I wasn’t afraid.”

“I know.” She stroked down the raised hair along his back as she straightened. “I think we can safely say the hole’s not out here. Let’s check out the storeroom.”

“It’s not back there either.”

Not Sam. Not unless Sam’s voice had deepened, aged, and moved up near the ceiling.

Diana dropped down behind a rack of resin frogs dressed in historical military uniforms and began to gather power.