“Catastrophic system failure, probably. It happens when any kind of tech gets old. I think Sefton installed those mirrors to protect his gallery and, more importantly, the items in his vault. But he put the system in place in the latter half of the last century. Paranormal energy hangs around for a long time, but the crystals used in that kind of technology are sensitive. They require tuning from time to time. It’s like rebooting a computer or a cell phone.”

“So over time the crystals got out of sync?”

“Theoretically they could have been rebooted before they failed, but that would require engineering skills and talent that Sefton may not have been able to maintain as the years went by. Add in the fact that there was so much energy in that basement, and you’ve got a disaster waiting to happen.”

“We got lucky, didn’t we?”

“Luck had nothing to do with it. Let’s go see if your vehicle survived. If it didn’t, we’ve got a long walk ahead of us.”

“That is not a happy thought.”

They made their way through the woods, following the smell of smoke. There were no sirens yet, but Harlan heard the rumble of rapidly accelerating automobile engines.

“Someone is rushing to the scene,” he said. “This may be interesting.”

“People are always curious about explosions and fires.”

“Yes, but the people driving those vehicles seem to know exactly where they are going.”

“How can you tell?”

He looked at her, saying nothing.

“Oh, right,” she said. “Chaos theory and no coincidences.”

“It’s what I do, Olivia.”

“One of the things you do,” she said. “You didn’t mention a downside to your chaos talent. Is there one?”

“Turns out chaos talents don’t come across as the romantic type. We tend to have poor social skills.”

“Give me a break. You’re talking to the woman who couldn’t get a date to talk to her for ten minutes at a speed date event. Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you.”

“No sympathy for the devil?”

“You’re not the—”

The squeal of brakes and the noise of big vehicles slamming to a stop on a gravel road interrupted her. Car doors slammed.

“Ash, Trev, check the back of the house. Ox and I will take this side,” a man yelled.

Harlan caught Olivia’s arm and tugged her behind the cover of a jumble of moss-covered boulders. He put his mouth to her ear.

“Stay here,” he said. “I’ll take a look.”

She hesitated as if she thought that was a bad idea, but she didn’t offer any prophetic warnings.

“Be careful,” she whispered.