Daniel shook his head. 'I haven't met anybody. I've seen my mother. That's it. I suppose all that comes next. I don't really know.'
'You haven't disappeared yet. You're still here.'
'I know,' Daniel said worriedly.
'So what are you going to do now?' Mark asked.
'Go home,' Daniel said. 'If I can.'
'And if you can't?'
He shrugged.
'Is there . . .' Mark cleared his throat awkwardly. 'Is there anything we should, you know, tell your wife? Or your son?'
Daniel was shaking his head. 'No. Don't . . .' He trailed off, thought for a moment. 'Tell my wife . . . tell Margot . . . tell her ... I don't know, tell her something she can believe and she can understand. And let her know that I love her and that she and Tony were what I was thinking about and concerned about.'
Mark nodded.
'Make sure she knows that I love her.'
'Where does she live?'
Daniel gave him the address.
They stood there for a few moments longer, but they had nothing left to say to each other. There was an awkward silence between them, and finally Daniel said, 'I'm going to try to go home, try to see Margot and Tony myself.'
'Good luck,' Mark told him.
Daniel smiled, nodded.
And before Mark could say another word, he was gone.
He was left alone in the room, the broken-necked body on the bed, the floor strewn with lint and dust and the other ingredients that had made up the dolls. He didn't know what was supposed to happen now, where he was to go from here, and he closed his eyes for a moment.
'Hello, Mark.'
He opened his eyes.
It was Kristen.
She was standing next to him, and she put an arm around his shoulder, and he felt warmth, sunlight. 'I'm proud of you, big brother.'
'I thought I was a goner there for a sec.'
She smiled. 'I wasn't worried.'
'You didn't think she could take me?'
Kristen shook her head. 'Things can only work out the way they do.'
Before he had time to ask her about that deterministic statement, she had moved over to the bed and was staring down at the girl's body.
Mark followed her, joined her. 'Billings and the girl,'
he said. 'What were they?'
'Meddlers in the natural process.'
'Stormy thought maybe he was God and she was the devil.'
'They have been called that.'
He blinked. 'So ... so God really is dead?'
'Not exactly.'
'What do you mean, 'not exactly'?'
'They were merely representatives of other, higher forces. Pawns. You could call them good and evil, but good and evil are not all there is. There is something beyond all that.'
'What?'
'I can't tell you.'
'And I wouldn't understand?'
She nodded, smiling. 'And you wouldn't understand.'
'Do you?'
'Not completely. Not yet.'
'But it's over now?'
'Nothing's ever over.'
'You're more annoying dead than alive. Do you know that?'
Kristen laughed, and he laughed with her. It was the first time he'd allowed himself to laugh in a long, long while, and it felt good, it felt right.
When he stopped laughing, he saw that the girl's body was gone. It had disappeared. He turned toward his sister.
'Where did she go?'
'She's still here.'
'I don't see her.'
'Think of her as a sacrifice. A sacrifice to the House.'
'The House demands sacrifices?'
Kristen smiled. 'No.'
'I don't--'
'You don't need to.'
'So what happens now?'
'That's up to you.'
'Are the others--?'
'You'll see them in a minute.'
'And then what?'
'That's up to you.' She kissed his cheek, and a flood of pleasant feelings passed through him. 'You can leave now if you want. The doors are open.'
'Kristen,' he said.
He reached for her.
And she was gone.
Stormy There was no earthquake this time, only a silent temporary blurring of wall and floor and ceiling as the Houses came together.
He'd been standing in that previously unknown room Butchery --facing the oncomingDonielle , and she had suddenly stopped in place, eyes widening. She fell to the floor, flailing about, then stiffened and was still. He'd turned around, and the otherDonielle was lying on the floor, too. He remained there for a moment, unmoving, then walked toward her to make sure she was dead.
She was.
They both were.
He felt for a pulse, looked for any indication that there was life within the still bodies, and was gratified to learn that there were none. He was still in one of those black rooms, still staring at the girl's body, but when the change occurred, when the Houses again came together, he was in the sitting room, and the girl's body was nowhere in sight.
Once more, the House felt different. He didn't know why, didn't know how, but the aura of dread that had been in the background, like white noise, since he'd first stepped through the door of the House, was gone, replaced with a surprisingly benign sense of calm.
The windows of the sitting room were fogged with condensation, but there was light outside and shapes
