they just had most of the skin off.
Positioning himself by the mirror again, Austin leaned in until his whiskers touched the glass.
“Do it.”
“What do you mean, where’s Austin?” Sam rolled his eyes. “I mean, he’s not here.” Diana grabbed Claire’s wrist as she reached for the door. “Where are you going?”
“Back. He could be hurt.”
“He could be anywhere. Just because the possibilities didn’t bring him through here doesn’t mean they left him in the other mall.”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“And if he isn’t there?”
Pulling free, Claire took a deep breath and looked her sister in the eye. “Then I’ll come right back.”
After a long moment, Diana nodded.
Claire closed her fingers around the latch, and froze.
Footsteps. Marching footsteps.
Distant, but coming closer.
Hard soles against concrete.
Hard something against concrete. Hooves, maybe? Impossible to tell.
The Keepers could feel the floor vibrate against their feet. Sam’s tail puffed out to four times its usual sleek diameter.
Diana wound her fingers through Claire’s pack straps and hauled her toward the other door. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
Closer.
A pair of snowflake paperweights vibrated so violently they shattered, spilling out miniature Grendels chewing on the bloody ends of Viking arms.
“We don’t know what’s out in the store,” Claire protested, as Diana yanked the door open.
“It’s got to be better than what’s out there!”
Sam leaped off the milk crates and raced between their legs.
“Sam thinks it’s safe! Move!”
They dove through the door after the cat. Diana slammed it behind them.
The sudden silence was almost overwhelming.
The hair lifting off his spine into an orange Mohawk, Sam moved out into the store. “It’s so thick, it’s like walking through pudding.”
“You should know,” Diana muttered, hands flat against the door, straining to hear if they’d been followed.
“That was an accident .”
“Maybe the first time. I can’t hear anything moving in the storeroom.” She turned to her sister. “You?”
“Nothing. Wait here. I’ll go back for Austin.”
“No need.”
“Sam!” Claire glared down at the younger cat. . .
. . . who ignored her, his head raised, his eyes locked on the back corner by the ceiling.
The mirror on the Otherside was a sheet of thick, silvered glass, about half a meter wide by a meter long, in an antique wooden frame. It was currently reflecting the store they’d just left. The troll flirted with the two teenage girls standing by the counter, a woman pushed a baby stroller out into the concourse, one of the rubber snakes disappeared under the pile of stuffed toys, and Austin stared down at them from beside a basket of tiny plastic music boxes.
“He’s all right.” Claire released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank God.”
“You’re welcome.”
Diana rubbed her hands over the goose bumps texturing her arms. “Uh, Claire, ixnay on the anking-thay odgay while we’re erehay. Attracts the wrong kind of attention.”
“I know.”
“I know you know. You were just relieved to see, you know.” She nodded toward the cat in the mirror.
“What’s he trying to ... oh. Dean. He’s going to go to Dean.” Eyes narrowed, Diana peered up at the ceramic name plate Austin had pushed out into the aisle. “Are those mice eating a pixie?”
“What? No, they’re eating a straw . . . Okay, that’s really, really gross.” Then they were staring up at themselves.
“Hey!” Claire folded her arms and stomped one foot-which would have been a more effective protest had the tar residue not temporarily attached her heel to the carpet. She jerked it free, caught hold of a display shelf as her backpack shifted suddenly, threatening to topple her over, and snapped, “What happened?” The blue-on-blue eyes managed to look slightly sheepish. “Sorry. Lost the signal.”
“How?”
Positioning himself by the mirror again, Austin leaned in until his whiskers touched the glass.
“Do it.”
“What do you mean, where’s Austin?” Sam rolled his eyes. “I mean, he’s not here.” Diana grabbed Claire’s wrist as she reached for the door. “Where are you going?”
“Back. He could be hurt.”
“He could be anywhere. Just because the possibilities didn’t bring him through here doesn’t mean they left him in the other mall.”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“And if he isn’t there?”
Pulling free, Claire took a deep breath and looked her sister in the eye. “Then I’ll come right back.”
After a long moment, Diana nodded.
Claire closed her fingers around the latch, and froze.
Footsteps. Marching footsteps.
Distant, but coming closer.
Hard soles against concrete.
Hard something against concrete. Hooves, maybe? Impossible to tell.
The Keepers could feel the floor vibrate against their feet. Sam’s tail puffed out to four times its usual sleek diameter.
Diana wound her fingers through Claire’s pack straps and hauled her toward the other door. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
Closer.
A pair of snowflake paperweights vibrated so violently they shattered, spilling out miniature Grendels chewing on the bloody ends of Viking arms.
“We don’t know what’s out in the store,” Claire protested, as Diana yanked the door open.
“It’s got to be better than what’s out there!”
Sam leaped off the milk crates and raced between their legs.
“Sam thinks it’s safe! Move!”
They dove through the door after the cat. Diana slammed it behind them.
The sudden silence was almost overwhelming.
The hair lifting off his spine into an orange Mohawk, Sam moved out into the store. “It’s so thick, it’s like walking through pudding.”
“You should know,” Diana muttered, hands flat against the door, straining to hear if they’d been followed.
“That was an accident .”
“Maybe the first time. I can’t hear anything moving in the storeroom.” She turned to her sister. “You?”
“Nothing. Wait here. I’ll go back for Austin.”
“No need.”
“Sam!” Claire glared down at the younger cat. . .
. . . who ignored her, his head raised, his eyes locked on the back corner by the ceiling.
The mirror on the Otherside was a sheet of thick, silvered glass, about half a meter wide by a meter long, in an antique wooden frame. It was currently reflecting the store they’d just left. The troll flirted with the two teenage girls standing by the counter, a woman pushed a baby stroller out into the concourse, one of the rubber snakes disappeared under the pile of stuffed toys, and Austin stared down at them from beside a basket of tiny plastic music boxes.
“He’s all right.” Claire released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank God.”
“You’re welcome.”
Diana rubbed her hands over the goose bumps texturing her arms. “Uh, Claire, ixnay on the anking-thay odgay while we’re erehay. Attracts the wrong kind of attention.”
“I know.”
“I know you know. You were just relieved to see, you know.” She nodded toward the cat in the mirror.
“What’s he trying to ... oh. Dean. He’s going to go to Dean.” Eyes narrowed, Diana peered up at the ceramic name plate Austin had pushed out into the aisle. “Are those mice eating a pixie?”
“What? No, they’re eating a straw . . . Okay, that’s really, really gross.” Then they were staring up at themselves.
“Hey!” Claire folded her arms and stomped one foot-which would have been a more effective protest had the tar residue not temporarily attached her heel to the carpet. She jerked it free, caught hold of a display shelf as her backpack shifted suddenly, threatening to topple her over, and snapped, “What happened?” The blue-on-blue eyes managed to look slightly sheepish. “Sorry. Lost the signal.”
“How?”
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