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resonating bridge, the borders and boundaries that defined the landscapes could become as fluid as a dream. The only constant in Ephemera was that it was ever-changing.
    So what did it mean that he, Teaser, and the bull demon had almost stumbled into another landscape without crossing any kind of bridge? How could two landscapes meld so that you saw one fade as the other became dominant?
    Nothing like that had happened in the Den before.
    Philo, a short, round, balding man who served the best food in the Den, hurried up to them and clattered two whiskey glasses on the table. Sweat beaded his forehead, but his hands were steady as he poured drinks and pushed the glasses toward Sebastian and Teaser.
    Teaser gulped down the whiskey. Sebastian, afraid to haze the edges of his mind and slip into nightmare, took a cautious sip.
    The crowd gathered in the street just beyond the courtyard, but there were a few precious minutes of silence before Philo shifted from one foot to the other, drawing Sebastian's attention.
    "This is the second one in two weeks," Philo said. "There is no demon race that kills like that. Nothing in the Den kills like that. That's why, when we found this one, we asked Teaser to fetch you."
    Sebastian frowned. "I don't understand."
    Philo and Teaser wouldn't look at him. When he glanced at the crowd, none of them would look at him.
    Finally Teaser asked softly, "Are we being punished, Sebastian?"
    "How should I…" But he did know. Looking at the naked fear in Teaser's eyes, he did know. He shook his head. "She wouldn't do this. Belladonna wouldn't bring something like this into a landscape."
    At the edge of the crowd, Mr. Finch made distressed chirpy noises.
    Philo wrung his hands. "If we have done something to anger the Landscaper—"
    "She wouldn't do this!" Sebastian snapped.
    Silence. Then Philo said, "Someone did."
    Keeping his eyes focused on the table, Sebastian sipped his whiskey, feeling the tug of conflicting loyalties. The Den was his home. He'd spent the past fifteen years living among these people. But every good thing that had happened in his childhood had come from Glorianna, Lee, and their mother, Nadia.
    Every happy memory from the years before he escaped his father for the last time had a connection to at least one of them.
    And the year the wizards, those self-righteous pillars of law and justice, had tried to destroy the Den…

    Six years after the Den was created, the wizards came with a Level Seven Landscaper whom they had convinced somehow to take over control of the Den and "balance" the landscape.
    Sebastian stood on one side of the main street with Philo, Teaser, and Mr. Finch, watching the Landscaper take a position between the line of wizards and the line of residents, her hands slightly lifted, her head tilted back, her eyes closed. Then he stared at the wizards, at one in particular who finally met his bitter stare with eyes filled with hatred.
    Demons were a blight on the world. Demons were a threat to humans. Demons had no place in Ephemera, and creating a haven for such vileness… The wizards hadn't been able to prevent the Den's creation, but now they were determined to put an end to it.
    They could have done it anywhere. They could have picked a quiet place on the outskirts of the Den, wouldn't have needed to go more than a few steps beyond the bridge they'd used to cross over into the landscape. It would have made no difference in terms of what the Landscaper could do. Instead, they marched into the Den's main street, taunting the humans and demons who had gathered with the knowledge that their place in the world was going to be splintered beyond recognition. The changes were already in motion, and not even killing the Landscaper would have stopped what was to come.
    Finally, when he felt something swirl around his heart and knew the Landscaper was tapping into the heart's core of every creature that made a home in the Den, he looked away from the wizards and the woman and