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 into the 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…”
Austin’s voice ghosted out the open door.
“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.”
The sound of a struggle.
“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. When
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.
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.”