“Maybe. I don’t know him that well, to be honest. We’ve only met a few times over the years.” She gestured around. “You have to understand, for us, all this was always just a strange horror story our parents told us. A kind of secret game. But now it’s all coming true. Phil always struck me as a man fighting a battle with his nerves. I don’t know how he will react. Or how I will, come to that.”

The chopping commotion at the door suddenly grew louder.

“I suppose we’ll see,” she said.

They ran back into the main room. Alex’s grandfather stood at the door to the hallway. He leaned out and craned to look up the stairway that curved to the next floor.

“As we were coming in,” he said over his shoulder, “I noticed a concrete outbuilding around the side of the house. Garage?”

“Yes,” said Metz. He had sat back in his wheelchair, looking like he had given up.

“Car in there?” the old man went on.

Kingdom produced keys, twirling them around her finger and catching them with a slap in her palm. “Gassed up and ready to go. But can we make it out there?”

“I think upstairs might be our best bet. Out a window, maybe over the roof . . .” He trailed off, turning gravely to consider Metz in his wheelchair. “Ah. Do you think you could—”

The sound of breaking glass from upstairs cut him off. Alex’s grandfather crept into the hall, heading toward the staircase. Alex and Kingdom moved to the doorway, in time to see him turn wildly from the bottom step and come sprinting back.

“Shut the door!” he shouted as he hurtled past them. But Kingdom had already stepped out, and stood peering curiously up the stairs. There was a whishing whirr from above, and a silvery cloud came sweeping down around the curve of the staircase, rushing at her.

Alex lunged, grabbed her arm, and hauled her back in as his grandfather slammed the door, turning a key in the lock. They heard several objects hitting the other side of the door, followed by the now familiar scraping of small blades against wood, closer than ever.

“What in the name of—” Kingdom said. Her eyes were round.

“Fliers,” Alex said. “They, uh. Fly.”

“Help me barricade it, Alex,” his grandfather said, running to drag a sofa over. “If you’d be so kind as to lend a hand,” he added to Kingdom, with a grunt.

The hellish scratching at the door continued as they worked to pile everything they could against it. The dogs stood in a semicircle, watching. Metz sat behind them, eyes wide, staring at nothing.

“Philippe,” Kingdom called matter-of-factly, as she moved a chair across the room. “Maybe you could finish preparing the weapons?”