It was cemetery dirt and didn’t need separating, but it would buy time. Obscura pulled her chair up close, and Maren gave her the tweezers, a pair of drugstore reading glasses to magnify her work, and a plate to collect the black grains of sand on. Obscura worked quickly, humming a little as she picked through the dirt.

Maren craned her neck to see the duffel bag on the floor behind Obscura. If she could just reach one of the cell phones inside, all she needed to do was call 911 and they’d trace the call even if she didn’t speak. She knew it’d work because once she’d accidentally called the number and then not answered when they called back, only to discover a police officer at her front door five minutes later.

“How did you get inside those people’s houses to give them the nightmares?” said Maren.

“I didn’t.” Obscura set her tweezers down, and Maren’s gut lurched as she pulled the killer moth-bee from her hair. She reached for a finished nightmare and held it out to the insect, which tested the sachet with its long antennae and then took it with its front legs. Maren watched, sickened and spellbound, as Obscura whispered to the moth, then pointed at her.

“Pretend you’re asleep,” ordered Obscura.

“I don’t want to—” began Maren, but Obscura waved her hand impatiently.

“Close your eyes. Now.”

Maren dropped her chin to her chest and shut her eyes. Seconds later, the moth-bee’s buzz grew so loud that Maren’s entire body broke out in cold sweat. A quivering brush of wings on her forehead, and then the bug began to crawl down her cheek. She wanted to swat it away so badly that she had to tuck her hands under her legs. One sting and she’d swell up like a balloon and suffocate. The insect’s little, tickling feet found her lips, and Maren gagged.

“Don’t you dare move,” said Obscura. Tears filled Maren’s eyes as the moth-bee pushed the sachet into her mouth and the sour, black taste of it began to seep onto her tongue. Then the creature was gone, and Obscura was laughing. Maren spat the dream onto the table, then spat and spat again onto a paper towel until her gray spit cleared. In the corners of her vision, dark things twitched and crept.

“Why don’t you finish sorting this dirt and let me know when it’s done?” Obscura pushed her chair back and returned to the ballet barre. The moth-bee flitted back to her hair, and slowly, Maren’s heartbeat and breathing returned to normal.

Obscura propped her long leg up on the barre. “Did you know that I grew up in Rockpool Bay?”

Maren nodded. “My grandmother said you came into the shop once when you were younger.”