There was also a Djinn in the mix-a short, round little thing with that indefinable glimmer to

her skin and eyes. She was introduced as Zenaya, and gave me a slight nod but no other

indication of how she stood on the subject of me.

No David. That was deeply troubling.

I went through things, step by step, detailing what I'd seen and experienced. Zenaya said

nothing, but her eyes flashed an eerie green when I talked about the dead Djinn, and the manner

of his death. I addressed a question to her. ''Wouldn't you know if one of your people

disappeared?'' I asked. She shrugged slightly. ''Wouldn't David know?''

''Yes,'' she said. ''But he says he finds no one missing.''

''Ashan?''

Another green flash to her eyes. She folded her arms. ''Ashan says his Djinn are all well. He

says nothing more.''

Which might or might not mean anything. Ashan wasn't chatty at the best of times. ''But I saw

him. And trust me, he was a Djinn.''

''How could you tell?'' Zenaya asked me, very reasonably. I started to answer, then hesitated.

Because I really wasn't sure how I knew. I just . . . knew. ''His aetheric signature,'' I finally said.

''Only the Djinn look like that.''

''Leaving aside that point,'' Guillard said, in his rich, dark chocolate voice, ''clearly you came

into contact with something highly dangerous. Earth Wardens have not been able to correct some

of the damage you sustained. We are dependent on simple human methods, which is why we've

had to hospitalize you for so long.''

Lewis nodded. He wasn't looking at me; he kept his gaze focused on the window, on the rain

outside. ''Sometimes damage just surpasses our ability,'' he said. ''That could have been the

case this time.''

''No,'' I said. ''David tried to heal me, and you know he should have been able to. He has

before.''

Lewis had no answer to that. Whatever he was thinking, he was keeping it close to the vest, and

he wouldn't damn well look at me. I wondered why. Was he angry about Silverton? He had

every right to be, I supposed. I'd screwed up, big time, and a Warden had paid with his life.

Guillard asked more questions about the black shard, things to which I had no real answers

except to give a recitation of my conversation with Silverton in the basement. And then the

whole thing was over; Jones and Guillard wished me well and departed, and Zenaya left without

a backward glance.

Lewis stayed. He still wouldn't look at me. Out of sheer stubbornness, I refused to speak first. I

sipped water and tugged irritably at my drying hair, trying to get it to stop poodle-curling around

my face. I used to have straight hair. I liked my old straight hair.

When I finally turned my attention back to my guest, Lewis was staring at me, and what was in

his eyes wasn't anger at all. Or even disappointment. It was something neither one of us could

ever really acknowledge, and it was big and powerful and breathtaking.

He cleared his throat and looked down, and said, ''You scared the shit out of me.''

''Yeah. Sorry, I had no idea it was going to be that dangerous, or I'd have done more, taken

better precautions-''

He waved that aside. ''Silverton was your expert; you were listening to him. So if there's blame,

it's his, and he's beyond all that now, poor bastard. Even if you'd pulled back as soon as you

found the dead Djinn, it would have been too late to keep you from getting sick. This stuff is

badly toxic. We couldn't have left it there. As it is, we've had to inform NEST, and they're

following up with radiation treatments for anyone who reports in sick to the hospitals.'' NEST

was the Nuclear Emergency Support Team, out of Homeland Security. I didn't want to imagine

how that conversation had gone.

''But by taking it out of the Djinn's body-''

''The Djinn's body must have been containing it, to a certain extent. You exposed yourselves to

a massive dose,'' he said. ''Silverton more than you, because he actually touched it, even with

protective gloves.''

It could have just as easily been me. Maybe Silverton had known the risks when he'd reached

into that cavity to grab the thing; maybe he'd just been unlucky. No way to know. I'd come close

to dying lots of times-I'd actually gone over the edge, once or twice-but this felt different.

This left me shaky and deeply unsettled.

''Is it true? That the Djinn really can't sense it at all?''

''The Djinn think we're all suffering from some kind of mass hallucination,'' Lewis said.

''David's being kind about it, but it's a blind spot for them. A big one. I don't know how we're

going to convince them.''

''If me lying in this hospital bed doesn't-'' I felt light-headed, short of breath. ''David has to

believe me. He has to.''

Lewis gazed at me, expressionless. ''I hope he does,'' he finally said. He leaned over and kissed

me chastely on the forehead. ''About your wedding-''

Oh, man. I'd known we'd have to have this conversation sometime, but I really wasn't ready for

it. ''Lewis, I'm sorry-''

''Don't,'' he said. ''Trust me. It won't make things any better. I'm okay. And I'm happy for you.

I'm just worried. This thing-the Sentinels. They already didn't like you. I can't imagine they'll

be sending any congratulations about the ultimate mixed marriage.''

He left before I could say anything else.

I closed my eyes and floated in a morphine cloud, trying to figure out who, outside of the Djinn,

could create the black shard that I'd seen. Who was capable of that kind of lethal, subtle action?

I didn't know.

I had dreams of distorted, screaming Djinn, of people being destroyed one by one, of the city in

flames, of myself, walking through the rubble in a beautiful, perfect wedding gown.

Of David lying in the street, dead, with a black shard driven entirely through his body.

I woke up shaking.

Chapter Four

So . . . I healed.

David came to visit, of course, and he stayed as long as his duties would allow-longer than he

should have, by the expressions of the Djinn sent to remind him of other duties at hand. But

despite what I'd confidently said to Lewis, I could tell that David didn't wholly believe me about

the black shard, or the dead Djinn. He couldn't. There was some kind of selective blindness that

he couldn't control, and that was weird and scary. It didn't matter, though. The Wardens figured

it out without the help of the Djinn.

Somehow-I don't know how-Lewis and a few other top-level Wardens managed to remove

the black shard and take it to a containment facility, where experts, brought in under high-level

security clearances, agreed that in fact it was, as Silverton had said, antimatter. Antimatter in

some kind of stabilizing matrix. When I asked where the stuff was, and how it was being

contained, I was told it was need-to-know, and I didn't. Frankly, I was a little bit relieved. I was

busy recovering, trying to get my strength back. My muscles seemed loose and weak, and once

the doctors let me out of bed I spent my time mostly in the physical therapy room, working hard

to get myself back in shape again. The pain went away. After a few weeks of natural healing,

they tried Earth Wardens on me again, and this time, it worked; burns and scars smoothed out

and disappeared, and I was left with glossy skin badly in need of a tanning session.

Of course, I could always count on Cherise for that kind of therapy. She showed up one day

toting a blue beach bag and told me to get dressed. Undressed was more to the point. She'd

brought my favorite swimsuit, a skimpy little turquoise number that showed off as much skin as