A local habitation

My answer appeared to reassure him, because he nodded. “All right. What do we do?”

Seeing that look on his face—the look that said he knew I’d have all the answers, and that if he asked the questions right, I’d share them—made me want to run for the hills. I stood, ignoring the unsteadiness in my legs. No matter how shaken I was, I needed to keep moving. “All right, it’s what, one-thirty? Two o’clock?”

“Two fifteen,” said Co

“Close enough. We’re going to get some work done.”

“Work?” Co

“Work.” I moved to the pile of folders covering one of the cafeteria tables. “Quentin, you’ve got A through L. Co

“What are you going to do?” asked Quentin, even as he started to do what I’d asked.

“Go through these.” I lifted Barbara’s desk drawer. “There may be something here that tells us where to look next.”

“I didn’t know I was coming to play secretary,” grumbled Co

“Then you should’ve brought a car.”

The next several hours passed in the sort of mind-numbing grind that was so familiar from past cases. We shuffled files, looked for co

And time rolled on.

“Toby?”

“What?”

“It’s four.”

I looked up. “In the afternoon?”

“Yes.” Quentin nodded. Co

“Sunset.” I rose, closing the binder. “Time to get to work.”

“What can we do?”

Get the hell out of here before something happens to you.“You still have those juniper berries?” He handed them to me silently, and I walked over to the counter, putting the mandrake root and juniper berries down next to the sea salt. “Elliot should be back with the flowers soon. It was a pretty big list, but there must be plenty of local florists.”

A faint buzz in the air warned of April’s approach before she appeared, clutching a small plastic bag. I didn’t flinch this time. Co

I smothered a snicker. “Hey, April.”

“I was instructed to monitor for signs of ritual preparation. I have brought you candles and feathers.” She offered me the bag. I took it. “I have also been instructed to inquire regarding further needs.” She paused. “Do you have further needs?”

“Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask.” Seeing that she wasn’t going to react until the question was asked, I continued, “Do you know who was nearest Barbara when she died?” It was a shot in the dark, but one worth taking: if April knew where everyone in the knowe was at all times, she might be able to tell me.

April frowned. “Define ‘died.’ ”

I paused. She’d never used the word “dead” in conjunction with any of the bodies. “Was removed from the network?” I ventured, trying to use words she’d understand.

“The time of removal is not recorded.” Her voice was calm, like she was reporting something of no real consequence. Maybe, from her perspective, she was.

“I thought you knew where everyone in the company was at any given time?”

“Yes. I am aware of current locations. I am not aware of past locations unless I have had reason to take note of them.” She shrugged. “Do you require anything further?”

“No; you can go.” I needed to think about this—but later, after the night-haunts had come and gone. Assuming I was still thinking about anything by that point.

“Noted,” she said, and vanished in a spray of sparks.

“What the . . .” Co

“Dryad who lives in the local computer network,” said Quentin, sounding disinterested. I had to smother another snicker. The kid was definitely learning about playing blasé.

“She’s Jan’s adopted daughter,” I said, bouncing the bag she’d handed me to check the weight before I looked inside. It contained candles and feathers, just like she’d said. Normal Dryads can’t take things with them when they teleport. The Tuatha can, but their method of teleportation is more direct—they open doors between places, rather than actually disappearing and then reappearing somewhere else. The fact that April could move physical objects said a lot about just how much Jan’s procedure had changed her. “Take a look at this, will you?”

Both of them walked over to me, but it was Quentin who reached for the bag. I let him take it. He looked inside, then up at me, asking, “What about it?”

“Does it seem normal to you?”

“Um . . . yeah. Why?”

“Because April brought it with her when she tele-ported in.”

Co

“Just like everything else about this place.” I reclaimed the bag, putting it down on the counter. “You guys want to help me move the tables?”

“Just tell us where,” said Co

I smiled back. “Get ’em up against the walls.” Moving to an empty table, I started to push. Co

The tables proved to be surprisingly light; plastic is a wonderful thing. We worked in comfortable silence for a while, moving the tables against the walls and stacking the chairs in tidy piles. I was going to need a lot of space if I wanted to make a circle large enough to be secure.

We were almost done when Elliot pushed open the cafeteria door, Gordan close behind him. Both of them were carrying armloads of dried flowers; Gordan had almost vanished behind her heap of foliage, leaving nothing but the white-topped crest of her hair visible.

Looking up, I nodded. “Great. Put those on the counter.”

“I’m sorry it took so long, but your list was very specific, and—”

“It’s all right. We still have . . .” I glanced up at the clock over the door. “Almost an hour before the sun goes down. That’s plenty of time to set up the circle.” I straightened, planting my hands in the center of my back as I stretched, then walked over to pick up the sea salt. “Quentin, get the candles. Co

Elliot and Gordan watched me draw a wide circle of salt in the center of the cafeteria floor, making it large enough for me to sit in comfortably. Quentin followed me, handing me candles whenever I reached back toward him. I arranged all but one around the rim of the circle, using small piles of salt to hold them up. The last candle went into the circle just before I sealed it. There was no need to speak; Quentin understood the basics of ritual magic as well as I did, and he could see the shape of what we were making.

Finally, Gordan asked warily, “What are you going to do?”

“Co

“What?!”Elliot stared at me.

Even Co

“You never said anything about them carrying you away!”

“What, you thought the night- haunts would be friendly? They don’t like to be disturbed, but the circle should protect me, if I’ve done it right.” I moved to pick up the silk-swaddled mandrake. “This is the sacrifice. Co