Obscura pulled Lishta’s sharp pair of silver scissors from her bag and crouched beside the table. As she cut the zip tie on Maren’s ankle, Maren cringed at the cold metal on her skin. With a flick of her finger, the ballerina sent her killer moth-bee zooming to the back of Maren’s head, where it hovered, faintly brushing her hair.

“Get up,” Obscura said, pointing to a door in the wings. “That way.”

Maren moved slowly, trying to think of a way to escape. She could slam the door shut just as Obscura came through and possibly run, but that moth-bee could probably fit underneath it and chase her down.

“Just be aware,” came Obscura’s chilly voice, accompanied by the angry buzz of her trained insect. “I won’t tolerate any nonsense.”

Shakily, Maren opened the door and the buzzing grew softer as she stepped through it into a dark stairwell.

“Down,” ordered Obscura, and Maren clung to the banister as she descended. They turned onto another hall, wet and slick and reeking of mold. From inside the walls came the tiny scratchings of rodents or cockroaches—or both.

“Stop,” said Obscura.

The flashlight went out, and darkness closed like a mouth around Maren.

Bzzzzzzzzzz.

She drew a deep, shuddering breath full of mildew and fear.

A key clicked in a lock and a door swung open, bathing the hall in gray-green light. Obscura gave Maren a hard nudge, and she shuffled forward into the small space. A mirror ringed with blown-out bulbs hung over a dressing table, and along the opposite wall a tiny woman lay curled up on a cot. It took Maren a few seconds to recognize Lishta—she seemed to have shrunk since Maren had last seen her.

“Gran-Gran?” Maren’s voice croaked out.

“She won’t hear you,” said Obscura, and Maren’s blood went cold. She stopped short of Lishta’s hunched form, afraid to touch her.

Obscura let out a huff of a laugh. “She’s not dead, little fool. I gave her sleeping medicine.”

“Gran-Gran,” whispered Maren, sinking down beside the bed. “I’m here, and everything’s going to be okay. They’re probably looking for us already.”

“That’s doubtful,” said Obscura. “I texted your mother from your grandmother’s phone and asked if you could stay with her for the weekend. She said that was fine. Then a little while later, I texted her from your phone and told her you were having an awesome time.”

Maren face blazed hot. She turned back to Lishta, whose eyebrows were knitted together. Her papery lips moved, but no sound came out.

“You can’t keep her asleep forever,” said Maren. “She’s old. It can’t be good for her.”

Obscura shrugged. “Let’s see how well you make dreams for me.”