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the perimeter of soldiers moved back another mile or so from the compound.
    Rhiana wandered into the office. A number of panes in the bay window which cupped the desk were missing. Plywood had been nailed up, but it had been a hurried job, so they were crooked. A hot wind gusted through the gaps. It carried a strange scent. Burnt cinnamon and oil was the only way she could describe it. The edges of Madoc’s dimension were pushing deeper into the Virginia valley, and within the confines of that bulge, where one universe extruded into another, living things died. Rhiana assumed the Old Ones would eventually stop the creep. They would have to if they wanted humans to feast on.
    The carpet had undulating rents in the fabric. At the extreme edges she could see a pattern of vines. There was a large brown stain on an intact piece of carpet.
Blood.
She wondered if that was where Richard had cut off Grenier’s hand. She pictured the scene, Richard slim and quick, a frown of concentration between his brows as he fought, magic against sword.
    Would he have used the sword on me if he’d reached me before I bound Kenntnis?
    She sat down in the Tempur-Pedic foam chair behind the desk, rested her toes on the floor, and swung back and forth. She noticed a notepad off to the side. In bold print she read:
    Drew Sandringham = Richard.
    “Richard” had been underscored three times. A green-gray mist spilled out of one of the dulled and grayed mirrors. She swiftly tore off the page and thrust it into her pocket. The mist resolved into Madoc.
    “You seem determined to annoy me today,” he said without preamble. “I told you to wait in the public rooms.”
    “I got bored. And what have I done?” Rhiana asked.
    “Do you think I can’t tell when magic is being done?” Madoc demanded. The edges of his human form frayed. Tendrils of oily green mist leaked from his eyes. Rhiana clasped her hands tightly together and thrust them beneath the desk to hide their trembling. “Don’t you
ever
spy on me again. You are told what you need to know. Do you understand me?”
    “Yes, Da …” Her voice choked on the word. “Sir,” she amended.
    “Did you warn him?” Madoc asked. Rhiana lifted a shoulder; it was both an answer and a dismissal. “Did you warn him?” Madoc repeated more forcefully.
    “Don’t you know? I thought you’d know,” Rhiana said and added, “Since you’re spying on me.”
    Madoc stared at her. His human features were back in place, and he had the same expression she’d seen on her adopted mother’s and father’s faces at various points during the past few years. With a sudden insight beyond her eighteen years Rhiana realized that teenagers were baffling and inexplicable whether the parent was human or formless horror. The thought made her giggle.
    “This is not a laughing matter.”
    That was just what they always said. The giggle became a laugh. Then her lungs stopped working, and her tendons seemed to be dissolving. Her arms clasped protectively across her breast, but then a dark red light flowed out of her and into Madoc’s gaping maw. He was no longer human.
    “Don’t, please, stop,” Rhiana whimpered, though she couldn’t tell if her mouth had actually formed the words.
    The sucking pressure stopped. The light snapped back to her, and her body reknit. “Lesson learned?” Madoc asked, and he sounded smug.
    With a trembling hand Rhiana swept back her hair. It felt wonderful, warm and smooth against the skin of her palm. Rage took her.
    “How could you do that to me? You were
feeding
on
me
! Well, here’s a little lesson for you. If I die I’m pretty damn sure that Kenntnis will be freed!”
    That wiped the self-satisfied expression off Madoc’s face.
    “What?”
    “I wove my essence, every part of my being, into that spell. So you better keep me safe.” Madoc took a step toward her, threat implicit in every line of his once more human body. “And don’t think you can make me alter the