She yelped in surprise, and watched the tuna can roll down the stairs. She laughed, because it was funny, and because she wore waterproof athletic shoes and the can didn’t hurt her toes. She ran a few more steps, and something else fell onto her foot. It was a tuna can. She waited for it to roll down the stairs, but it sat there like a guardian tuna, tail twitching in menace.

She backed away, skidded a few steps down, clutched the handrail, and tried to remember where she was going.

Upstairs to her room. She had to hurry, because… She didn’t know why.

Yes, she did. Because Mara was coming.

“I’m here.” Mara took her arm. “I see you got into the water.”

Kellen stared at her, wide-eyed. “You did something to the filter.”

“Full points to you.” Mara led Kellen up the stairs. “The thing about this drug is when I take it, it makes my brain normal.” She smiled, and her face turned into a cat’s.

Kellen gasped.

“But when you or any person with a normal brain takes it,” the Cheshire Cat said, “it changes your world in terrible ways. Or so they tell me. I do hope you can hear the air quotes when I say, ‘Normal.’”

“I don’t like talking cats.”

“I don’t like barking dogs, either.”

They reached the top of the stairs, and they weren’t in the stars. They were in the corridor headed for Kellen and Max’s bedroom.

“I need to go to the bedroom,” Kellen confided, “so I can lock the door.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because Mara is coming. Shhhh.”

“I’m Mara.”

Kellen looked. The cat rearranged its features and became Mara. “You’ll have to wait out here.” She frowned. “You’ve got a bump on your head. It’s a big bump.”

Mara steered her through the bedroom door and over to the dressing table. “That’s what happens when a corpse falls on you.”

“Nooo. That sounds awful.” Kellen sat, because Mara pushed her onto the dressing stool. “How did that happen?”

“You bitch. You know. You did it.”

“Did not.” But some vague memory pressed against Kellen’s skull, wanting out. “Jamie is flying with the birds,” she blurted.

Mara trembled with some great emotion. Or maybe that was another illusion. Then she smiled, pressed Kellen’s left hand onto the polished wood of the dresser top and spread her fingers wide. “I was hoping it would come to this.” Her eyes gleamed with maniacal pleasure—and she drove a five-inch-long needle through Kellen’s left hand.

42