Alex calmed marginally, saying, “If I see her, I’ll let her know.”

“Good.” I sipped the bloody water instead of gulping this time, trying to linger. Quentin saw this and did the same. Not that it did any good; the blood was as empty as Barbara’s. I spat it back into the cup. “Well, that was useless.”

“Nothing here, either,” said Quentin. He was starting to look green around the edges. The magic wasn’t working, but he was still tasting the blood.

Alex peered at us. “Are you going to throw your cups at me if I say you look like hell?”

I considered for a moment, finally saying, “I won’t.”

“I might,” Quentin said.

“I’ll risk it. You look like hell. Have you had anything to eat since breakfast?”

“No,” I admitted, and sighed. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to eat.

Come on. We can hit the cafeteria and get some food into you. The cooks are gone, but the vending machines still work.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” I said, grudgingly, as I dropped my cup back onto the tray. There wasn’t any blood on my fingers. They just felt that way. I wiped them against the legs of my jeans, trying to be casual about it. “Is there a phone in the cafeteria?”

“Yes,” said Alex.

“I’m not hungry,” said Quentin.

“Is there coffee?” I asked.

“You can have a pot to yourself.”

“I’m sold.” I looked toward Quentin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a soda.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re a teenager. You’re always hungry.” I was hungry, whether or not Quentin was, and I’d focus better after a sandwich and some coffee. “Can we get an escort to the cafeteria?”

Looking amused, he asked, “You two need a native guide?”

“Please. Unless you think you have enough staff left to send search parties.”

“The place isn’t that bad.”

“Uh-huh.” I spread the sheets back over Barbara and Yui. Maybe they wouldn’t care, but I did. Quentin was tossing the cups into the garbage can, not bothering to empty them first. “Have you ever been to Shadowed Hills?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Amateur,” Quentin muttered, and started up the stairs.

“Quentin . . .” He didn’t stop. Sighing, I followed.

Alex came along behind me, pausing to close the basement door. It didn’t lock. “So what’s the big deal about Shadowed Hills?”

He was clearly trying to get back into my good graces. I considered the sincere unhappiness in his expression, and gave in, saying, “Shadowed Hills is just about as bad as this place. I guess the Torquills just have a family grudge against linear space. I’m practically a native, and I still get lost there.”

“This place is confusing at first, but it gets better. You’ll catch on.”

“I hope so.” Quentin was ten feet ahead. I called, “If you don’t know where you’re going, stop.” He glared back at me, but stopped, letting us catch up. “That’s better. Come on.”