Laurie smiled. 'Anything more unusual than usual.'
Mark and Norton headed up to the third floor. Stormy stopped off at his room, and Daniel accompanied Laurie to her door before walking down to his own bedroom and locking the door behind him.
He stripped off his clothes, hit the sheets, and fell asleep almost immediately.
He dreamed of Doneen .
He awoke, by the Batman clock on his dresser, at six.
He heard the chime calling them to breakfast, sounding from its unspecific source somewhere nearby. There was no light other than the small desk lamp he'd turned on before sleeping because flat wood now covered the spot where his window used to be, and he realized that they were now living in a world without natural light.
Maybe that's why they'd been shown the greenhouse --because it was the only room left that had windows.
The chime sounded once again.
Daniel remained in bed. Fuck Billings. He was going back to sleep. If punctual communal meals assisted the Houses in their regeneration of power, then he wasn't going to do anything to help. Besides, he was still tired and didn't want to wake up. And they'd have all day-- hell, all year--to interrogate the butler.
There was a knock on his door. 'Daniel?'
Laurie.
'Just a minute.' Sighing, he got out of bed, pulled on his pants, and opened the door.
She stood in the hall, dressed, hair combed, and he unconsciously ran a hand through his own hair. 'May I
come in?' she asked.
He nodded, stepped back. She closed the door behind her, and his first thought was that he ought to remind her that he was married. But she seemed oblivious to that potential in the situation and pulled his small chair away from the desk, sitting down.
'I know we haven't had a chance to talk one-on-one,' she said. 'None of us have. But I've been doing some thinking and . . .
well . . .' She met his eyes. 'What do you think of Mark?'
'Mark? I ... I don't know. Why?'
'Come on. Cut the crap. There's no reason to be diplomatic here. What are your feelings about Mark? Your gut reaction.'
'No reason to be diplomatic?' He smiled. 'The way I see it, we may be stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. And beyond. I should try to get along with as many people as I can.'
'I'm being serious,' Laurie said.
He nodded, sitting down on the side of the unmade bed. 'I know. What are you getting at?'
'There's something . . . not right about him.'
'Well, he's not a real talkative guy, but--'
'Not that.' She sighed. 'What if he's a spy?'
'What?'
'Just hear me out.'
'That's crazy.'
'Is it? I don't think he's been totally honest with us--'
'Come on! Everyone has secrets. You think I'd completely spill my guts to a bunch of strangers? You think I told you guys everything about me?'
'No, but I think you were honest enough to tell us everything that you thought pertained to this situation.
I'm not so sure Mark did. I think he's keeping something from us.'
'And that makes him--what?--a House agent?'
'I don't know. I'm not saying he's monitoring our conversations and reporting back to Billings or whoever.
I'm just saying that I don't entirely trust him.'
'Why did you come to me? Why are you telling me this?'
'You seem ... I feel like we maybe have more in common than some of the others. I don't want your ego to get too swollen, but you seem smart. Confident.
Straightforward. And I guess the bottom line is that I
trust you the most.'
Daniel couldn't help smiling. 'I'm flattered.'
'Look. Just think about it. Just keep your eyes open.
That's all I'm saying.' She stood up. 'It's getting late.
We'd better go down to breakfast.'
'I'm not hungry,' Daniel said.
'But--'
'But what? Our faithful servant will get mad at me?
Let him.'
Laurie nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes.
'Maybe these rituals give the Houses power.'
'It's a possibility.'
'I'll tell the others.'
'You going to skip breakfast too?'
'Starting tomorrow.' She smiled embarrassedly. 'I'm hungry.'
Daniel laughed. 'Go on, then. I'll see you guys later.'
But he couldn't fall back asleep, and after a fruitless forty-five minutes tossing and turning restlessly, he put on his clothes and headed downstairs to the dining room.
The table was set, but there was no food on it and no one was eating. Whatever conversation there had been had died, and Laurie, Mark, Norton, and Stormy sat in separate sections of the long table, playing with their silverware or staring into space.
'Where's Billings?' Daniel asked, sitting down.
Stormy shrugged. 'That's the big question.'
'Has anyone tried to look for him?'
'I did,' Laurie said. 'No sign of him. On this floor at least.'
'So . . . what? We're going to starve?'
Stormy stood. 'I'll make the damn breakfast.' He looked around the table. 'But we're switching off. This is not my regular gig.'
'I'll take dinner,' Laurie said.
'And we can each make our own lunch.' Daniel smiled. 'I know the schedule.'
'You'd better like scrambled eggs,' Stormy said. 'It's all I can make.' He disappeared into the kitchen and emerged a moment later, looking perplexed, carrying a tray of bacon and a pitcher of orange juice.
'It's ready,' he said.
'What?'
'Our breakfast is in there. It's all cooked and ready.'
'It wasn't there before,' Laurie said. 'I checked.'
'Somebody want to come in here and give me a hand?'
They all stood, followed him into the kitchen, picked up assorted dishes. There were pancakes and bagels, muffins and fresh fruit. Neither the stove nor the oven appeared to have been used, and there were no dirty knives or cooking utensils on the counters or in the sink.
It was as if the food had just . . . appeared.
Daniel picked up the coffeepot and a plate of sausage and headed back to the dining room. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there seemed something different about the kitchen. It seemed larger than he remembered, the positioning of its elements changed slightly. He wondered if the room was a composite of all of their old kitchens and if a modification or remodeling on the part of one of the families had thrown it off a little bit. Until now,
