Every muscle in Roger’s body was relaxed but alert, like some big cat that smells prey. He studied his hand. For every move his quarry might make, he had a counter.

“Eight of hearts,” Aaron said unnecessarily, playing the card.

Roger tossed in the two; Lucia played the four; and Charlotte laid down the nine and took the trick.

“I’m pretty sure the rest are ours,” she said, laying her cards down face-up. She pushed the five of clubs forward. Aaron could have beaten that, but Roger held the ace.

Lucia sat back, leaving her cards on the table. “Maybe we should switch partners,” she said. “How long have you two been playing whist for, anyway?”

“Years,” Charlotte said. “I hate solo games. I could see why people would want to play something serious like poker on their own, because I wouldn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s money, but if you’re just playing to have fun, shouldn’t you want to have a friend helping you?”

“Also, she really hates losing,” said Roger, “and it’s hard to do that when nobody else has ever played it before.”

“I never understood that phrase,” she said. “How many people do you know who do like losing?”

Aaron tossed his cards in. “I don’t.”

“Hey, Charlotte,” said Lucia. “I was wondering something. You know Jason pretty well, don’t you? What’s the deal with him and Sue? Are they dating or what?”

Charlotte laughed, but there were nerves in it. “No, nothing like that. They’re totally platonic. They’re just really good friends. I like him just fine, too. I just like different things to him, so we often both want to hang out with Sue.”

Lucia glanced at Aaron.

“What?” he said.

“Do you think Charlotte’s right?” she asked.

He blinked and made an uncomfortable stuttering sound like ‘urgl’. “Maybe? Why would I know?”

“Boys and girls can be just friends,” Charlotte insisted.

Lucia looked at Roger instead. “What do you think?”

“I think most boys and girls don’t want to be just friends,” he said. He gathered up all the cards and began riffle-shuffling. “But some do, I suppose. Why, are you thinking of making a pass?”

“Tch,” she said, smiling. “Not my type. No, I’m just gossiping. He’s a guy who hangs out with two single girls, and I don’t think he’s gay. Someone has to say it.”

“Hey, um,” said Charlotte. “Not to change the topic, but Aaron, how did you first meet Michelle? You’re really close. It’s pretty cute.”

He raised his eyebrows, then gave a laconic shrug. “She’s kind of a hard girl to miss.”

“Okay, but, like … when did you both decide that you’d always spend your time together? What was it that made you think it was what you both wanted?”

“We didn’t decide that,” he said. “We’re not joined at the hip. Speaking of Michelle, though, it’s been ages. How long does it take to follow someone to a secret room? I could have walked around the entire castle twice since she left.”

“Uh,” Charlotte said. She thought he’d sounded very abrupt.

“Do you think they might have got themselves hurt?” Lucia asked. She frowned. “You know those stories of kids falling down mine shafts? I somehow doubt there are many of those here, but there are probably wells and, I don’t know, oubliettes.”

“Don’t talk yourself into panicking,” Roger said. “Sue and Jason were together, and Michelle and Jill technically are too. I can’t see either pair knocking themselves out without us hearing them from here.”

The other three exchanged uneasy looks.

“It’s a big castle,” Charlotte said unhappily, “and these are thick walls. There are probably rotting floorboards all over the place that could give way under the weight of two people.”

“,” said Roger. He was aware that they were bouncing their worst fears off each other, but it was hard to argue that without sounding wilfully optimistic. “Michelle isn’t even with Jill. She’s trying to shadow her. If either fell down a shaft, the other would hear.” He paused. “And they’d help.” He paused again. “That wasn’t supposed to sound sarcastic.”

Aaron got up off the bench. “I’m going looking for them.”

“We should all go,” Charlotte said. “Um, but what if they’re fine, and we all fall down a well, and they get back and we’re not here?”

“This is going to turn into one of those tar pits, isn’t it,” Roger said presciently, “where everyone goes out looking for everyone who’s looking for everyone. Do we have a copy of the map? Give me that, and a pencil.” He drew a long, winding loop through the castle, and copied it onto the second map. “We split up. One group stays here, the other follows this route. If Michelle and the others make it back before the second group does, fine; if not, we regroup and keep looking; and if the second group is gone for too long, then the first group at least knows where they went, and can find them quickly.”

“Huh,” said Lucia. “I think I’m starting to see why Michelle has a crush on you.”

“She what?” Roger said.

“Gotta go,” Lucia said, snatching the map from his hand. Aaron moved to follow her to the exit, clicking his flashlight on.

“Should I come too?” Charlotte asked.

“Someone has to wait here, for in case Michelle makes it back before we do,” Lucia said. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

She took point as she and Aaron walked down the hallway. Their route didn’t go back over the same ground twice, but it did zigzag a lot, so that it passed close to every part of the castle.

“Michelle? Sue? Jason? Jill? Anyone?”

Aaron gave her a sideways look but said nothing.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Calling out like that gives me the feeling that you’re giving away our position,” he said. “I know that that’s literally exactly what we want, but …”

“I know,” she admitted. “I’ve felt like that for a while, now. But I think it’ll be worse if we give in to it. You know those old cathedrals that seem sacrosanct, and then a gaggle of tourists barge through, and the locals all give them snake eyes? If we all keep hushing everywhere, that just reinforces it.”

He raised a hand. “Do you hear that?”

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They stopped. Somewhere off to their left came a distant tune, sad and lilting.

“It sounds like an organ,” Aaron said.

“I think Sue plays piano,” Lucia said, “and those have the same setup. Hey, Sue! Is that you?”

There was no response, so they followed the music. They turned into a room full of scuffed billiards tables and one large, colourful box with question marks on each face; at one end was a set of mahogany double doors that led out into a ballroom.

They were at the top of a wide set of polished oak steps leading down into an open space. Around the edges of the room were tables laden with punch bowls and wineglasses, some partly full of dark liquid. At the far end was a pipe organ, from which came the music. A wide, high-backed chair obscured the musician.

“Hey, Sue?” Lucia called out. There was no response.

She exchanged glances with Aaron, and they both jumped when the doors swung shut behind them. He tried them, and they opened just fine, they were just weighted to shut by themselves. They took a moment to calm down. The silent castle was wearing at their nerves.

Aaron moved forward, picking his way down the stairs, and she followed a few paces behind. The light from their torches hadn’t caught much of the dance floor, but when he reached it, he could see that it was covered in discarded clothing and broken glass. It smelled strongly of sweat and bad alcohol.

“Sue?” he asked. There was still no response.

The clothing included everything for a complete wardrobe, male and female: shirts, trousers, dresses, skirts, shoes, even socks and underwear. Most of it was stained purple-red.

“This was all dropped here,” Lucia said, “and it looks like glasses of wine were thrown on top.”

“Like the people wearing them and holding the glasses suddenly vanished,” Aaron said.

“You just had to say it,” Lucia said ruefully.

The two of them gingerly picked their way over the clothing, avoiding the broken glass as best they could, and made it to the organ.

Aaron was the first to get close enough to peek around the chair: nobody was there. At the same moment, the music cut off mid-note. He jumped back and crashed into Lucia, knocking both of them to the floor and making them drop their lights, which promptly went out, plunging them into pitch darkness.

Lucia swore. “Ow, jeez. Aaron, can you get off me?”

“Sorry. I just –”

The music began again, this time a fast tune with a beat made by what sounded like a gloved hand tapping the organ keyboard. His heart skipped a beat, then made up for it by doubling its rate.

“If that’s you, this isn’t funny.”

“If that were me, this would actually be hilarious.”

“Lucy, I’m this close to freaking out. Don’t –”

“You’re physically on top of me, and I’m nowhere near that good on an organ.” The music went through a showy part, sweeping up and down. “Erm. Do you know where our lights are?”

“I think it was around – ow, dammit!”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“I got broken glass in my hand.”

“Try not to move it. Some glass might have got into the cut.”

“Right. Give me a minute … here.”

He found his flashlight and clicked it back on. At the same moment, the music stopped again.

He tried to speak, but swallowed instead. “That does it,” he said on his second try. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Hang on, I still haven’t found my light.” He swept his beam across the floor and found it. The battery slot had broken off and the battery had fallen out. Lucia went over and put the battery back in, and it came back on. “Thanks.”

“Now let’s go.”

“Just a moment,” she said, going over to the organ. “I want to check this out.”

“I don’t.”

“I don’t really believe in ghosts. Don’t you want to try and work out how it was doing that?”

“No; I’d rather leave and never come back. We’re supposed to be finding Michelle!”

“Jeez, it’s not going to bite you. Maybe there’s a light sensor hidden somewhere …” She hit a few keys. The notes came out scratchily. She really wasn’t any good at keyboards.

“It can’t bite me if I’m not here,” he said. “I’m gone. Find me when you’re done.” He climbed the stairs and left.

He switched his torch to his good hand to check how bad the cut was, but it looked like just shallow scratches on two fingers. He sucked on them and swept the light across the room. Flickering shadows played out behind the old billiards tables. In the centre of the room sat the box with the question marks. He started toward it, decided he didn’t really want any more surprises, and stayed where he was.

There came a few more notes from the organ, not any sort of music, but it slowly became more cohesive. It began as random notes, but these came faster and turned into half scales, full scales, arpeggios, then a real melody, with chords in the bass range, and finally a complete polyphonic piece. With a flourish, the music ended. Aaron waited a minute longer, until there came the sound of Lucia’s approaching footsteps, and the doors creaked open.

“And you said you weren’t any good with an organ,” he said, sweeping his light over her.

She didn’t walk toward him, instead moving around the side of the room. “I’m good at everything,” she purred.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “What just happened?”

“I’m better than ever, thank you very much,” she said. She was looking at the wall; looking for something, he realised. “Has it ever struck you how nice it is to be an adolescent, not a child? So much stronger. I feel like a gazelle. Or a tigress.”

“Lucy?”

“Still, the strength in one’s body isn’t so important, in the grand scheme of things. The grand scheme of things is. Respect, deference. But that’s the work of a hundred lifetimes. To build it from the ground up in a night is inconceivable.”

“Lucy,” he said again. His heart fluttered, his stomach dropped.

“That being said … there’s a perception among the lower classes, that a Lady should do nothing except bear an heir or three,” she went on, “but that’s only what we let them see. Really, the rule is to do whatever it takes.”

She came to the fireplace. Atop it hung a shield and a sheathed sword. She set her torch on the mantelpiece and, in one fluid motion, pulled down the sheath and drew the sword, almost silently.

“And right now, I’ll have you kneel,” she said.

Aaron backed away and bumped into a billiards table. “Lucy, you’ve been possessed,” he said. “You have to snap out of it.”

She stepped forward, moving with perfect grace, like a big cat stalking its prey. “She can’t hear you,” she said. “But if she could, and your words could do anything … that would mean you were trying to get rid of me, and I can’t have that. Isn’t that selfish of you? You’ve been living nonstop for years, and you begrudge me doing it for five minutes? Why do you deserve it?”

“This isn’t,” he said, swallowing, “I’m not doing what you want. Get out of her body, now.”

Her face twisted, and she darted forward, swinging the sword. Aaron tumbled backward onto the table and kicked out at the same time; her blade sliced into his calf and thigh, and he yelled in pain. She ducked and brought the blade up and around; he moved his arm to block, and it cut into his forearm. She withdrew, then stabbed him through the breastbone, twisted, and pulled it free. Aaron collapsed.

She flicked the blade, sending droplets of blood across the floor, stuffed it and the sheath through her waistband, and set out.

She silently filtered through hallways and regal rooms, searching for someone. The roof had gone in places, revealing a quarter moon and a sky studded with stars, but even where it was intact, she could see in the dark well enough. Lucia had the mindset of a cat, and on some level, it affected her eyesight, making her alert to the slightest outlines or movements. She pressed on, drawn by occult senses to the feeling of life, human heartbeats, fire, and activity.

“Lucy!” someone hissed, and pulled her into an alcove.

Possibly she only thought her vision was good in the dark. “Who is this?”

“It’s me, Michelle, but keep your voice down. Jill’s just inside.”

They were in a hallway, hidden near a door made of rusty corrugated iron. “I see.”

“I don’t know what she’s doing, but it’s nothing to do with treasure,” Michelle babbled on. “First, she went to the van with a bucket and rubber hose, and siphoned out our petrol. I could have stopped her, but now I really want to know what she’s up to. She’s doing something, I hear clanks sometimes, but no idea what.”

“What she’s about to do is pay,” Lucia said, and made for the door.

Michelle grabbed at her. “Wait, no, she’s –”

Lucia turned, drew her sword, and ran her through. Michelle gave a strangled yelp and scrabbled at the weapon.

The door opened, and out came Jill. She’d thrown a set of coveralls on over her nightie, with a belt laden with tools, and a lantern hung from a hook by her shoulder. She looked at the girls with an expression of sheer irritation.

“I don’t know what you’re killing each other over this time,” she said, “and I’m too busy to care. I still have to finish up in here and get this stupid thing to the shrine. It weighs more than I do, and I have half an hour, tops, before the end of the world. So if you don’t mind, could you please do whatever it is you’re doing somewhere else?”

Lucia kicked Michelle off her blade and levelled it at Jill. “You,” she said, her eyes narrowing to slits, “could have revived me at any time. It should have been you. But you left me to oblivion.”

“I’d honestly love to help,” said Jill, “with whatever it is that you’re talking about, but I seriously do not have the time. You’re going to have to –”

Lucia lunged.

Jill stepped into the attack, grabbed her wrist, hip-checked her, and tossed her over her shoulder; this let her twist the sword out of Lucia’s hand and bring it around and through her neck. She pulled it free and kicked Lucia to keep her down, then took the sheath and hung it from her belt. Without a word, she turned around and returned to her work.