Arra pulled the front door open, paused, and looked down at the broken lock. Maybe she should just stay here and fix it. Maybe she should have just stayed in the car. Actually, no maybe about it . . .

She stepped into the office.

What the hell am I doing?

The thermoses were comforting weights in her pocket. Their contents would be useless as long as the shadow remained in Mouse, but they were a clear indication of what her role was in this . . . this ridiculous attempt to save a world already lost.

She glanced toward CB’s office and almost wished he was there. Almost wanted to walk through his door, walk past the fish tank, almost wanted to stand in front of his desk and confess all. Fortunately, he was in Whistler with two of his kids from his first marriage. She had no idea what they were doing in Whistler at this time of the year, but whatever it was, it was keeping her from making an ass of herself in front of the one person in this world likely to ask the right questions.

The costumes rustled as she passed as though they whispered among themselves; a choir boy’s cassock asking a slightly shiny tux what was happening.

Good question.

It was curiosity; that was all, the same thing that had prodded her out of the basement and up onto the soundstage in time for the morning opening of the gate. Wizards were like cats. Curious. Sometimes, it got them killed.

Not me. I know when to run.

She pushed open the door and heard retching. In the silence of the soundstage, it could have been coming from anywhere.

Yeah, right. Who am I kidding . . .

Tony was on his knees under the inactive gate, looking like crap, the last bit of shadow dribbling from his nose. Mouse was stretched out behind him. Maybe dead. Fully separate now from its last host, the shadow slithered across the floor toward Henry.

He was fast. It was faster.

Did it know what he was? Would it be able to control him? From the look of things, it was going to have a damned good try at it. If it succeeded, a shadow-held Nightwalker would be able to destroy this small resistance.

As darkness swarmed up Henry’s body, Arra reacted. The questions and the commentary shut off and her hands rose. She’d cast the incantation countless times in the last futile attempt, it wasn’t one she was ever likely to forget.

The shadow froze, twisted in on itself, and vanished with a soft sputz.

Moving quickly, before the questions had a chance to start up again, she jogged across the empty set to Mouse’s side, the rubber soles of her sneakers squealing against the floor. She dropped to her knees, and, grabbing two handfuls of his jacket, heaved him over onto his back. As his head bounced once against the floor, his eyes opened.

“You!”