Tansy pursed her lips. Dame Margaret frowned. Sarah clutched my arm even tighter.

"We are already late, Portia Harding. I don't understand the purpose of your little joke, but we have a job to do. Tansy, if you please?"

"This is absolutely insaaaaaaaaa—"

Before I knew what was happening, little round butterball Tansy threw herself at me, slamming into me with a force that knocked me backward several feet onto my butt. I stared in stunned disbelief at her as she did the flying dive toward me, knocking the breath out of me as her not-insubstantial form squashed me like a ripe bug. My head hit the ground, making me see stars for a few seconds, my already injured shoulder screaming with reawakened pain.

"Sweet mother of reason, what do you think you're doing?" I shrieked as Tansy grabbed my hair and started slamming my head against the floor. "Sarah, call the cops!"

"I can't move," Sarah yelled back, her voice strained. "Something seems to be holding me back."

"You are not the champion," Dame Margaret said with irritating calm. "Only a champion can assist a subject."

"Stop it, you crazy old lady!" I screamed as Tansy sat on me and continued to pound my head against the floor. I struggled against her, trying to push her off me, but for an old woman, she was remarkably strong. It didn't help that one of my arms was just about incapacitated due to my sore shoulder, or that my head was becoming more and more befuddled with each wallop on the floor. "Someone help me!"

Tansy's face was twisted with concentration, her teeth bared in a grotesque parody of a smile.

"Fifteen seconds," Dame Margaret said in a bored voice. "I suggest that you make your move soon, Portia Harding."

"Arrrrrrrgh!" I bellowed, trying to twist my way out of Tansy's vicious grip. Part of my mind, the part that annoys me the most, pointed out with abstracted amusement the irony of being beaten up by an overweight, elderly lady after having earlier survived attacks by an extremely fit man.

"Ten seconds."

"Are you all right, Portia?" Sarah called.

"No…I…am…not…" I answered in between head bangings. "Gaaaarr!"

"Can't you just push her off you?" she asked. "It's just one old lady."

"This isn't an old lady; it's a big-time wrestler in disguise," I snarled, trying to pry Tansy's hands from my head.

"Five seconds."

"Well then…you're just going to have to persuade her to stop," Sarah said, quite unreasonably in my opinion. "Without striking her, of course. I do not condone physical abuse of the elderly."

"Granng!"

"And…cease."

In a twinkling, Tansy released me and hopped up, immediately straightening her shapeless wool skirt and blouse, the former of which had been somewhat rumpled during her attack on me. "What happened?" she asked, peering down at me.

"That's what I'd like to know," I answered a bit woozily. With slow, careful movements, I sat up, feeling the back of my head. There was a horribly tender spot, from which tendrils of pain snaked out and wrapped themselves around my brain. "I'm going to have a hell of a goose egg back there. What have I ever done to you that you'd attack me like that?"

"Why didn't you defend yourself?" Tansy asked, looking confused.

Sarah rushed over and helped me to my feet, her face red with anger. "You people are insane—insane! How dare you assault us! You may be elderly, but that does not give you the right to beat up whom soever you feel like!"

The ground dipped beneath my feet for a moment. I clutched Sarah and tried to blink away the dizziness.

"Subject failed to manifest any sort of defense whatsoever," Dame Margaret said as she wrote in a small notebook. She tucked the pencil into the book and put both away in her pocket, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Let's hope you do better on the second trial. That will commence tomorrow."

"Could someone call the police?" Sarah asked, gently pushing me toward my chair. Bettina and the others still sat around the table, as still as statues. "And an aid unit. Portia looks very pale."

"I don't understand why she didn't protect herself," Tansy said, back to looking like a fluffy-haired, jolly grandmother. I knew just how deceptive that appearance was. "Why didn't she do something, Letty?"

"No idea," Dame Margaret answered, pursing her lips again. "But it's no concern of ours. Who's next on the list?"

Tansy pulled a piece of paper from her purse. "A throne applicant."

"Oh, good. Always like testing them. They have such polite manners. Good evening!"

"Someone stop them," Sarah said, heading for the door, but it did no good. The bright bluish light that had filled the room suddenly went off, plunging us into relative darkness. We were light blind for a moment or two, moments which the two women used to hurry out the door before anyone could stop them.

"What is wrong with everyone here?" I asked, rubbing my head and glaring at the people around the table. "Couldn't someone have pulled that old lady off me?"

Bettina gave me an odd look. "Pardon? What old lady are you speaking about?"

"What old lady? The one who just tried to bash my brains into mush on the floor!"

Four sets of eyes watched me warily, as if I was the one who was behaving oddly.

"Perhaps you would like to lie down for a few minutes while we continue with the séance," Bettina said kindly. "There is a sofa in the reception room which you are welcome to use."

I looked from person to person, then to Sarah.

"Didn't you just see the two women who came in here?" she asked them all.

All four of them shook their heads.

"No one? You're telling us you didn't see anyone else come into the room?" Sarah asked, her hands on her hips.

"No," Milo said. "No one but the six of us."

"Unauthorized visitors are not allowed at client séances," Bettina added. "Shall we continue?"

"What's going on?" Sarah asked, confusion written all over her face. It probably mirrored mine.

I shook my head very, very carefully. "I have no idea, but I think it's time to leave."

"Definitely," she said, helping me to my feet and opening the door for me. I felt like I had been run down by a steam roller. My head and shoulder were hurting so much it was making me sick to my stomach. Sarah paused at the doorway and looked back at the four people at the séance table. "You English are just downright mean sometimes!"

Chapter 6

"Well?" Sarah asked the next morning as I staggered into the small room on the first floor that the pub owner said would serve as our private dining room.

"I'm still alive, my head is still attached to my body, and no other evil elderly people tried to beat the crap out of me after I went to bed," I said, slumping gratefully into a chair.

"Did you talk to the police yet?"

"Just got off the phone with them. Good morning, Darla. Yes, thank you, coffee and toast. And perhaps an egg, and that delicious-looking marmalade. Is there any bacon? Oh, good. I'll have some bacon, too. And a grapefruit, if you have one."

The barmaid/waitress who fed us breakfast and dinner gave me a curious look, but toddled off to bring me the requested foodstuffs.

"And?" Sarah asked around a mouthful of eggs and grilled tomato, a combination that made me shudder just looking at it.

"It's not polite to talk with your mouth full."

She made a face that would be more appropriate on her youngest child.

"I talked to the same sergeant who interviewed us yesterday, and he said they haven't found Theo, nor the two deranged women who attacked me at the séance. They have an address for Theo, but it's somewhere up north, and whoever is checking on it hasn't reported in yet. They want us to go in later and look at mug shots, in case he has an arrest history."