. . a shadow reaching out past her, moving through the door. She nearly fell, stepping away from it. She pressed against the wall, flinching where the dark light brushed against her, feeling a sharp pain as though she'd been cut and was bleeding . . . and sensed that it was delighting in that, enjoying her fear and pain.
There was a strangled sound from outside the closed door, and then the boneless thump of something heavy falling, and then again, a similar noise. Kayla listened, but she couldn't hear anything else, not a single sound.
“Well, that takes care of that,” the old woman said, a small satisfied look on her face. She turned to Kayla, who was still crouched against the wall. “They won't trouble us,” the woman said, “or interfere in any way. Now, come with me. I was about to set the table for dinner.” The old woman tottered away toward a lit doorway down the hall.
Kayla glanced at the closed door, sensing that hungry darkness still lingering outside, and ­decided that maybe, just this once, she didn't want to look.
She didn't really want to follow the old woman anywhere, either. Just what did she do? It felt like magic, but it wasn't any magic I'd ever seen before, nothing I'd want to know . . .
I'd better be polite, at least until I figure out who—or what—she is, and what's going on here. . . .
“Coming, dearie?” the old woman asked, peering back at her.
“Uh . . . yeah,” Kayla said uneasily. “I'm coming along right now.”
The next room was dimly lit by several huge candles, their flickering light half‑concealing the furniture draped with dark cloth and the odd object in the corner, a huge metal cauldron hanging over a pit of bright coals. The cauldron was blackened and old, and the old woman was now standing in front of it, adding seasonings from a small clay pot.
“Make yourself comfortable, dearie,” the old woman said, sniffing suspiciously at the open clay pot in her hand. Something leaped out of it and skittered across the floor. The old woman yelped, dropping the pot.
Kayla gingerly sat down on the couch. “Can I help?” she asked hesitantly. As long as