“Hi,” I said, stopping a few feet away. Quentin stopped beside me, but didn’t say a word.

“Hello,” she said. Her voice was neutral: it was like talking to a recording. She could have been Daoine Sidhe—her stance and the shape of her ears suggested it—but I didn’t think so. She didn’t feel like one of the Daoine Sidhe. She didn’t feel like anything.

“I’m—”

“You are October Daye, Knight of Shadowed Hills. And this is Quentin, currently fostered at Shadowed Hills from parts unidentified.” It wasn’t a question.

Great. All-knowing kids aren’t my idea of a good time. “Yes, I’m Toby, and this is my assistant, Quentin, and we’re from Shadowed Hills.”

“I’m April.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I said.

“Shouldn’t you be inside?”

“Why? Does your mother want to see me?”

A quizzical look crossed her face, marring her neutral expression. “My mother is occupied with greater concerns. I thought you had come to view the body.”

There are a lot of ways to get my attention. Saying the word “body” is near the top of the list. “The what?” Quentin gaped at her.

“The body. Colin has suffered a hardware failure and fallen out of synch with the server. Everyone is greatly upset; they’re running in circles, just like last time, and they’re not getting any work done. There is still testing to complete, you know.” She said the last almost peevishly, like the world was creating bodies just to spite her.

“No, I didn’t know,” I said slowly, thinking, Just like last time? “Where’s the body?”

“Inside, through the glass doors, at the center point of the cubicle maze. Everyone is there. You should go there as well. Then you can worry about it for them, and they will all go back to work.” There was a sharp snapping sound, like an electrical cable breaking, and April vanished. Ozone-scented air rushed into the space where she’d been standing.

That’s not something you see every day. I stared at the empty air.

“Toby . . .”

“I know,” I said, shaking myself out of it. “Come on.” Turning, I ran for the door.

This time, I was expecting the transition into the Summerlands, and I took note of the moment when it happened, already wondering how many other ways there were to move between the two sides of the building. Quentin pulled ahead and opened the door into the hall, pausing as he waited for me.

I could smell blood mixing with the processed air as soon as the door was open. Strange as April was, she’d been right about at least one thing: something was very wrong.

“Behind me, Quentin,” I said, stepping past him.

“But—”

“No buts. If things look dangerous, you run.”

Quentin hesitated before falling in close behind me. Being a page teaches you how to shadow people without being underfoot; that’s part of being a good servant. Now he was getting the chance to see how it also prepared you for combat. If anything attacked us, his position meant he was already balanced to fight back.