a8eb54fe2a7e7ca192cef2761fb9d6c0

“Sorry. Bit of leftover higher knowledge. It’spossible. But not very likely,” Sam added hurriedly as Austin advanced on him. “I mean, power residue’s power residue; right? And besides, what would I know.”

“Austin!”

Austin shot a“spoilsport” glare at Claire and suddenly became very interested in cleaning his shoulder, his claws almost totally retracted again.

“It’s my Summons.” Diana reached out for the latch. “The risk should be mine.”

Claire shook her head, blocking Diana’s hand. “If one of us is going to send up a flare, I’d rather they knew about me—leaving the more powerful Keeper in reserve.”

“That’s a good point, but here’s a better one. We don’t know what we’ll face on the other side of this door. I should cross first to make sure we’re not stopped before we get started.”

“Why don’t we cross together. They won’t get a good reading from either of us and we’ll be ready for whatever we have to face.”

“But I get to take it out.”

“Be my guest.”

On Diana’s nod, Claire threw open the door.

*

The storeroom on the Otherside looked almost exactly like the storeroom they’d left behind. The same metal utility shelves, the same jumble of empty boxes, the same overstock. The only real difference was the light—low, diffuse, and slightly green.

The two Keepers stood weighing the silence for danger.

“Hey.” Sam jumped up on a stack of old plastic milk crates. “Where’s Austin?”

THREE

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ONE MINUTE, he had the tip of an orange tail in his face. The next, he felt the possibilities shift and he was walking alone into the storeroom they’d just left.

The door to the access corridor was closed.

The door to the store was closed.

Austin sat down, wrapped his tail around his front feet, and glared at nothing in particular. The urge to piss on something was intense. Like all cats, he knew when he was being told“No!”; he usually ignored it, but he knew.

He’d just been told in no uncertain terms.

The possibilities would not allow him to cross over.

When the door to the access corridor remained closed, his eye narrowed. Had she been able to, Claire would have returned immediately to find him. She hadn’t, so therefore she couldn’t. The question now became: why?

Fortunately, there was a way to find out.

Unfortunately, even up on his hind legs, he could just barely stretch to touch the bottom of the latch plate.

Okay, new plan.

Dropping to all fours, he stared at the closed door, a position proven to bring a talking monkey trotting to his assistance.

“Not a problem, ladies, I’ve got more T-shirt sizes in the back room.”

Or possibly a talking whatever the troll claimed as an evolutionary precedent.

As the door opened, Austin slid in behind a crate marked with both a biohazard and a live cargo symbol. Curious, he took a sniff at one of the air holes, but the crate was empty and had been for some time—probably a good thing although he could easily imagine scenarios where it wouldn’t be. With the troll’s full attention fixed on pulling an XXX largeAstarte Fan Club out of a shipping carton of Tshirts, he slipped through the doorway and into the Emporium.

A fast right, a dive under a raised display case, a quick creep forward belly to the ground brought him behind a basket of small plastic jewelry boxes. Head cocked, he listened for the straining gears that would indicate someone with a desire to hear music played on pieces of bent tin had wound the key. When he finally found a silent box, he flipped it open. The miniature Republican in a frilly pink tutu remained motionless in front of the mirror.

Austin smacked the tiny politician out of his way and tipped the box back until its mirror reflected only the security mirror up by the ceiling.

Fortunately, cats were masters of refraction.

The direct approach would have taken him right into the troll’s line of sight now that the big guy was back at the counter explaining washing instructions to the T-shirt’s new owner—apparently, the bloodstains were not supposed to come out.

Blue-on-blue eyes drifted up from the depths of the jewelry box mirror.

“What are you doing here?” the mirror demanded, its usual booming tones more of a low tinkle.

Muzzle so close his breath fogged the glass.“The possibilities wouldn’t let me cross.”

“Age thing?”

Austin shrugged.“Maybe. Maybe the idiots in charge think two cats would give the good guys an unfair advantage; I don’t know. Can you get a message through to my people on the Otherside? I need to know that Claire’s all right; she needs to know that I’m safe.”

“I can do better than that. I should be able to patch you through, cat to cat. Video only, though, no audio. You want full bandwidth, you’ll need a crystal ball.”

“Video’s fine.” If Claire could see him, she’d know he was okay and could concentrate on doing her job. He scanned the store for something visual that would help get his message through and just when it seemed that nothing at all said “Dean,” he spotted the rack of ceramic nameplates.