The crows flew past both vehicles into the woods. Not one of them hesitated. They were a dark ma.s.sive blur that rocked the Impala on its wheels until...nothing; they were swallowed by trees. It was as if the crows had never existed.

Lannes sat staring, his heart racing faster than the thoughts flitting through his memory, as he watched again and again that remarkable disappearance.

"Forget normal," Lethe said. "That was crazy."

Lannes agreed. But it also meant they were on the right track.

They drove for another fifteen minutes before finding a road through the woods. It was just as wide as a car and packed with dirt-a lane, Lannes might have called it, except that a rusty chain ran across the entrance, and there was a sign that quite clearly said, no tresspa.s.sing.

The Humvee door kicked open, and a barefoot, half-dressed Koni tumbled out. His hair was wild, his shirt off, displaying his impressive array of tattoos, and his jeans were hardly zipped, revealing the fact that he did not wear underwear.

Koni's eyes flashed with golden light. He walked up to Lethe, ignoring everything and everyone else.

"Thank you," he said, with a great deal of sincerity.

"My pleasure," she replied, with just as much dignity.

Lannes bent down and rattled the lock on the chain across the road. He made a sharp twisting motion, and it fell broken into the dust. The chain slid apart, pooling into the narrow lane.

"Oops," he said. "Look at what I did."

Lethe smiled. "Guess this means you need to find the owner. Offer to buy a new lock."

"a.s.suming you reach the owner," Rictor said, staring at the woods.

Koni followed his gaze. "Just so everyone knows, I'm not biting it, Blair Witch-style."

"I'll put you out of your misery before it comes to that," replied Rictor, and it was difficult to tell if he was serious. He marched back to the Humvee, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of them. "Stay in the car, no matter what you see, no matter what happens. And keep your windows rolled up."

Koni grimaced. Lannes and Lethe shared a long look.

"Does he know something we don't?" she asked them.

"He's Rictor," Koni said, as if that was all the explanation necessary.

They started driving. Humvee first, Impala close behind. Lethe rolled down the window just a crack to air out the scent of blood-which was either fading or becoming something she was accustomed to.

"I've had this car for forty years," Lannes told her. "It was a birthday present. I would cruise around on short road trips whenever I needed to clear my head."

"It's not completely ruined," she told him, then stopped. "Wait, forty years? Just how old are you?"

"Um," he said, his hands tightening around the wheel. "We age a little differently than humans. I suppose in your years, I would be in my thirties. But chronologically I'm in my late seventies. I was born in 1930."

"Wow," she said. "So, the normal lifespan of a gargoyle..."

"We can live up to three hundred years," Lannes replied, "and we usually do. Especially now that we're no longer hunted."

You'll outlive me, he heard her think. Which was not something he wished to contemplate. At all.

The forest was beautiful. Lannes had thought it was lovely on the outskirts, brushed in the gold of autumn and the lingering green of summer. But here, deeper inside the forest, was another kind of wilderness. He could not see past the border of trees, which seemed to form a wall on either side of the road, filled as it was with brambles and wild stinging plants. To others it might have been inhospitable, but to Lannes it seemed nothing more than the first barrier to a mystery.

He looked for mysteries. His heart felt open to them. If nothing else, he half-expected to find his car attacked by a cloud of angry crows. But nothing happened, and after ten minutes spent pushing down the incredibly long drive, the trees opened up, splitting apart to reveal another world.

A vast lush meadow spread before them, the gra.s.s soft and green and scattered with wildflowers. Fruit and nut trees dotted the surroundings, as did several grazing horses, brown coats shining. The drive snaked through the meadow, and at the end of it, surrounded by fat ancient oaks, was a large house, clearly old but lovingly cared for. A fresh coat of blue-gray paint had been applied, and the roof, old and made of metal, resembled the scalloped back of a dragon.

To the right of the house, at the end of the drive, was a cemetery.

"Well," Lethe said, glancing at him, "I guess we know where Etta's picture was taken."

They parked near the house. Everyone tumbled out. The air smelled fresh and clean, and not one sound of the modern world broke through the birdsong. Neither car nor plane. It was like being wrapped in another century.

Rictor still stared at the woods. Lannes moved close, following the direction of his gaze, trying to see what held him so captive-unhappily captive, he thought. He found nothing, though he sensed an odd tingle on the edge of his mind and remembered the crows blotting out the sun.

"There's something in there," he said.

"There's something everywhere," Rictor replied.

Roses surrounded the old house. Koni knocked on the front door, while the rest of them hung back on the porch. Hummingbird feeders had been set out, and the cushions on the scattered chairs were covered in cat hair. Lannes saw a small wooden box filled with gardening gloves, a sagging bag of sunflower seeds, and a tattered bird-watching guide that was missing half its cover.

It was very warm and charming. He felt bad for interrupting.

No one, however, came to the door, and Lannes strolled to the end of the porch and peered over the rail.

There was a large garden behind the house surrounded by a pale blue picket fence. Despite the late growing season, he glimpsed red tomatoes, staked and tall, and rows of cauliflower and other leafy greens. A man stood among the vegetables. His back was turned to them, and he held a hoe in one hand. A crow perched on the other. He wore a straw hat.

Koni joined the others at the end of the porch. Rictor hung back, leaning against the rail, arms folded over his chest. Staring out at the woods. He did not appear particularly surprised or interested that there was a man on the other side of the house, and Lannes, recalling what little he knew of him, wondered if Rictor had been aware of this place's existence all along.

"You should go introduce yourself," Lethe said, holding back. "I'll just, uh, wait here."

Lannes hesitated, but it was quite clear she was not going to budge. Perhaps she felt Runa would return for more mayhem. He stooped down, kissed her cheek, and stepped off the porch onto a little beaten path lined in moss and stone. The crow watched his approach, its eyes profoundly intelligent.

"h.e.l.lo," Lannes said, when he reached the fence. Koni was close behind. No sign of Rictor or Lethe.

The crow tilted its head, and after a curiously long moment, the man turned slightly, revealing a weathered and chiseled profile. He was old, but his body was so big and strong, Lannes had thought the man would be much younger.

"Well," said the stranger, with a small smile, "it's about time."

Lannes hesitated. "You know us?"

"I know enough," he said, and flicked his wrist. The crow flew into the branches of an oak, and the old man tapped his forehead.

"I'm the one who walked away," he said.

The old man called himself Will, claiming that William was a name used only by strangers and angry mothers. Also, according to him, it was too nice a day to be inside. There were chairs in the garden and a cooler filled with water, juice and ice. Rictor stood apart, waiting beside a tangle of tomato vines, his gaze sharp, intense.

"I believe we can talk candidly," said Will. "Seeing as how we're all a bit... different."

That's an understatement, thought Lannes, his hand brushing up against Lethe's knee. It had taken some persuasion to make her come this close to the old man-who finally had told her that he had never been involved in any of Simon's antics. Least of all those that harmed a child.

Lannes himself was perched on the edge of a stump, but he was so big in comparison, he felt rather like an elephant trying to make itself comfortable on a thimble.

"I know your face," he said to Will. "We have a picture of you when you were younger."

"Ages and ages ago, no doubt," he replied easily. "But I still have a young mind and a young heart."

Rictor shook his head and looked away at the woods. Will smiled at him.

"I was surprised to learn you were part of this. Given your current state."

"Were you?" replied the green-eyed man. "How remarkable that you would be surprised by anything."

"And yet, you. Always. Are a revelation." Will's voice was kind, but it carried a clipped sense of humor that made Lannes stare.

"You know each other," said the gargoyle.

"We met briefly, long ago," replied Rictor, still staring at the woods.

Will followed his gaze. "She won't bite, you know."

"I believe I know her a little better than you," the man replied tersely "She dislikes me. Most of them do."

"What are you talking about?" Koni asked, staring at them both, seemingly just as surprised that Rictor and Will seemed to have a prior relationship.

Will smiled. "Our Lady of the Wood. I believe you had a taste of her temper."

Lethe made a small sound of protest. Lannes raised his hands, "How is it possible you know each other?"

Will glanced away at the woods and the house, the garden. Up at the trees and the crow watching them, then down at his hands. Anywhere but at him.

"My last name is Steele," said the old man. "I'm sure you're familiar with it."

Lannes was not, at first. He was tired, dense. He had to roll the word in his mind like a stone.

Steele.

And then it hit him, and Lannes could not look away from the old man. Indeed, he was gawking, but he could not make himself stop. Of all the things he might have expected, this was not it.

"You founded Dirk & Steele," he said. "You created the agency."

"Don't give me too much credit," Will replied easily, with a twinkle in his eyes. "The framework was in place long before I was born. My wife and I merely... expanded on things." He smiled, gesturing. "This place, what you see here, was-and still is-a sanctuary. For those who are... different."

"Like Simon was different," Lethe said in a heavy voice. "Or Etta... or Marcellus."

Lannes' curiosity flared, but he held himself reserved, thinking of his vision at the hotel-the stink of evil that had crowded his senses like raw sewage served as soup- and he looked at Will and found the old man staring back, his smile thoughtful and tainted with regret.

"You want to know about Simon Sayers," said the old man. "Little Simon Says."

"I'm beginning to hate that nickname," Lethe told him. "Who gave it to him?"

"His father. He thought it was...cute...that his son could make people do things against their will. And Simon liked to please his father." Will faltered. "I suppose we're all victims of such feelings."

Lannes thought of Frederick for some reason, recalling the difficulties his friend had faced in breaking away from his father-to live his own life, to write instead of carrying on the tradition of bookbinding. The split was older, and ran deeper than a mere career choice, but that had been the final cut between them. Alex Brimley and his only child had spoken little afterwards, and resolved nothing before the older man's death.

Lannes found Will watching him with uncanny, far-seeing eyes, and wondered if he could see beneath the illusion. The possibility made him feel vulnerable, despite the circ.u.mstances. Or, perhaps, because of them. William Steele was not just a stranger-he was a powerful stranger- and Lannes did not like having his secrets thrown about, or his armor weakened, in front of men who were undeniably mysterious.

"Koni," Lannes rumbled. "Did you know about this place?"

"No," replied the shape-shifter. "But I recognized the face in the picture when I saw it."

"We've never met," William said to him, though there was a glint in his eye that made Lannes wonder if that was half a lie.

Koni shifted uncomfortably. "I like to know who I work for."

"Little spy," said Rictor.

"Whatever," Lethe interrupted. "I don't mean to be rude, but I have a problem."

"We all do," William replied. "This is something that should have been resolved seventy years ago."

"You'd think," she said coldly. "A little girl was murdered."

The old man stared down at his hands, which were strong and tanned, and surprisingly youthful. "Milly was very sweet, not a mean bone in her body. She had a way with animals, too. I found a fox and rabbit sleeping in her bed once, together, because she...convinced them it would be all right." He smiled sadly. "Remarkable girl. So was her mother."

"And afterwards? Obviously no one was punished."

"Never had a chance," William said. "You have to understand something, young lady. My mother and father, those who came before them, were guardians of this land, this old trust. People would come here because it was safe. But they didn't always get along. My parents didn't expect that divisiveness to happen. They a.s.sumed everyone would be as grateful as they were for a chance to... be themselves. Human or otherwise. A home of the heart for people without one." Bitterness entered his voice. "The Sayers and Bredows were trouble from the start. They came because they couldn't help themselves, but they looked down on the area and the people. They thought they were better. By the time we found out just how spoiled the children were, it was too late."

"They tried to summon something," Lannes said, as Lethe edged closer to him. "Do you know if they succeeded?"

Rictor shifted slightly, and met William's gaze. Which surprised not only Lannes, but Lethe and Koni as well. Lethe's confusion was a soft twisting cloud inside his mind, but Koni leaned forward, golden eyes simmering with a hot light.

"It was taken care of," William said finally.

"Permanently," Rictor added, and turned his back, facing the forest.

Koni let out his breath, slowly. "s.h.i.t. You've been holding out."

William gave him a hard look. "He does what he must."

"And the others?" Lethe snapped. "Why wasn't Simon...taken care of?"

"Because he was gone. All of them left immediately. They had no choice." Will plucked a small tomato from the vine and popped it into his mouth. "Runa was my mother's best friend. What happened to them changed everything."

Lethe leaned forward. "Runa's not entirely gone."

"Oh, I know," Will said, and offered her a tomato. "She's out sleeping in the woods."