Under the furniture, was a square of carpet patterned in shades of gray. The fourth side was a ma.s.sive, rear projection television, its screen a reflective black. The mere lack of accessible electricity wouldn't have been enough to keep the TV off had enough of the mall elves wanted it on but, subconscious desires or not, the programming would have been beyond their control. Diana had seen a TV in one of the bleaker Otherside neighborhoods that showed nothing but reruns of Three's Company. Next to the Girl Guide camp, it was as close to actually being in h.e.l.l as she ever wanted to get.

There was no sign of Arthur's usual entourage and although the coffee table had smoothed corners, it could in no way be called round.

"When Kris said that a pair of Keepers had crossed over, I thought the news was too good to be true," Arthur announced, moving to meet them as they stepped onto the carpet. "And yet, here you are." He looked so pleased that Diana found herself grinning foolishly in response. A quick glance over at Claire showed she was having much the same reaction.

"Sire? About some us heading out scavenging?"

"Of course." Arthur nodded toward the Keepers. "If you'll excuse me." When he turned his attention to Kris, it seemed almost as though the lights had dimmed.

Oh, great. Diana scowled at her reflection in the television. That's so not good.

Wait a minute, the lights have dimmed.

She glanced up at the ceiling. The huge frosted squares over the fluorescent tubes were becoming distinctly gray. "Claire . . ."

"I see it. I think this store is almost real and the mall in the real world is closing down for the day."

They were right under one of the emergency lights. As the rest of the store filled with shadows, the area defined by the sofa, the chairs, and the television remained, if not bright, at least lit. "But it's barely midafternoon."

"A little past." Claire thrust her wrist and watch into Diana's line of sight. Six fifteen. The second hand swept around the dial almost too fast to see. Six sixteen. Seventeen.

"Give me one good reason why I should feed you anything different than I would if Claire were here?" Dean demanded, lifting Austin off the table and out of his supper.

"Claire's not here."

He thought about that for a moment then cut the cat some cold beef. "Okay. Good reason."

"But time was running one to one when you checked at the Emporium."

Claire nodded toward Arthur, who was still speaking quietly with Kris. "I think he's a time distortion. He's pure Otherside. Whoever's running this segue can't control him."

"Yeah, but they clearly can't control the elves either."

"It's June." Austin settled himself in tea cozy position on the coffee table. "Why are they still playing hockey?"

"Because they're not finished."

"You know, the world made a lot more sense when I was young."

Dean twisted the cap off a beer and toasted his reluctant companion. "Oh, yeah, I'll drink to that."

"They had no trouble controlling the elves before Arthur showed up. Kris said they were getting their a.s.ses kicked."

"Okay, so these kids get caught in the segue, but it happened over time, so the darkness had to know about it, which means it has to want them here to . . ." Diana glanced around at the department store, complete to the sale banners hanging from the ceiling. ". . . to help define this end of the mall, which is where they'd end up, running from the darkside at the other end. The darkness figures it can remove them easily enough before the segue's complete, but it doesn't count on them banding together and being able to bring in outside help. Darkness underestimates Bystanders, the latest in a continuing series. But it must have realized that Arthur was a threat to its plans, so why hasn't it moved to destroy him and his merry men?"

"Watch it, you're mixing archetypes."

"So? What's the worst that could happen?"

"I can think of a dozen really bad movies that essentially answer your question," Claire told her in a low voice. "And bits from any of them could show up if you're not more careful!"

Diana shuddered and checked out the surrounding shadows. So far, they seemed clear of movie cliches. "Sorry. But I'd still like to know what the darkness is waiting for."

"Maybe it's not waiting. Maybe it's just that the other end of the mall's running a lot slower than this end."

Time was relative, sure, but the Otherside took it to extremes. "Given your vast years of experience, what are the odds that our presence acts like a catalyst for a little localized Armageddon?"

"Pretty good."

"How good?"

Before Claire could answer, Arthur clapped Kris on the shoulder and sent her on her way. Forgetting Armageddon, Diana watched her leave, watched the swing of her hips and the movement of her hair against her back until she disappeared around a corner. Then she stared at the corner as though wanting could make the other girl come back. Actually wanting could make her come back. As Kris reappeared, looking confused, Diana forced herself to think of other things.

Like being overrun by the forces of darkness.

On second thought, let's not think too hard about that either.

"Come, drop your gear. Sit and we will speak together." Arthur's voice was deep and a little rough.

It was a voice that spoke of fairness and trust and responsibility and the kind of values people always said they were looking for but never much liked once they found them.

He sounds just like the kind of guy you'd buy a new operating system from, Diana realized suddenly. And he sounds a lot older than he looks. Which he is. Thus the immortal part of that whole Immortal King thing. Duh. Still, losing the backpack seemed like the best idea anyone had had in days. Diana let it slide down her arms, caught it just before it was about to drop, and fell back gratefully onto one end of the sofa.

"Here, let me help." Arthur stepped forward and lifted Claire's pack off her shoulders. He showed no surprise at the weight, merely settling it to one side as Claire thanked him.

Stronger than he looks, Diana noted. Just another piece of the whole, too good to be true, package.

He waited until Claire and Sam were sitting before shoving his sword back out of the way and sprawling bonelessly over one of the armchairs. Archetype or not, he still sat like a teenage boy.

A teenage boy with a big honkin' sword.

"Will you take refreshment?" He waved at a stack of juice boxes.

"No, thanks." Diana pulled a bottle of water and Sam's saucer out of a side pocket. "We brought our own. We're not staying," she added, as Arthur began to frown. "And we'd just as soon not have our ears sharpened."

Wrapping himself in his tail, Austin glared up at Dean. "Just so we're both clear on this, no cuddling."

"Maybe you shouldn't be sleeping on Claire's pillow, then." Setting his gla.s.ses carefully on the bedside table, Dean reached up and turned off the light. "Suppose I wake up lonely and confused?"

"Lonely, confused, and lipless if you come anywhere near me."

"No tongue . . ."

"Because I'll have ripped it out and batted it under the bed!"

"Good night, Austin."

"Eating or drinking while we're on this side, will make it more difficult for us to cross back," Claire explained.