“You got to walk outside to the back. Plus, it’s locked. Come on. I’ll take you there.”

The waitress-whose name tag read “Kathy”-led Maya around the diner to an unmarked door fastened with a padlock and latch. She kept chattering as she searched through her pockets for the key. “Daddy’s worried about people coming in and stealing all his toilet paper. He’s the cook and the dishwasher and everything else around here.”

Kathy unlocked the door and switched on the light. The room was filled with cardboard boxes of canned food and other supplies. She bustled around, checking the paper-towel dispenser and wiping out the sink.

“You got a real cute boyfriend,” Kathy said. “I’d like to drive around with a good-looking man like that, but I’m stuck at the Paradise until Daddy sells this place.”

“You’re a bit isolated here.”

“Nothing but us and that ol’ coyote. Plus a few people driving down from Vegas. You been to Vegas?”

“No.”

“I’ve been six times.”

When she finally left the room, Maya locked the door and sat on a stack of cardboard boxes. It bothered her that she might feel any kind of attachment to Gabriel. Harlequins weren’t allowed to become friends with the Travelers they protected. The proper attitude was to feel somewhat superior to the Travelers, as if they were little children who were innocent of the wolves in the forest. Her father always said there was a practical reason for this emotional distance. Surgeons rarely operated on family members. It might cloud their judgment. The same rules applied to Harlequins.

Maya stood in front of the sink and stared into the cracked mirror. Look at yourself, she thought. Tangled hair. Bloodshot eyes. Dark, drab clothing. Thorn had turned her into a killer without attachments, someone who lacked the drone desire for comfort and the citizen desire for security. Travelers might be weak and confused, but they could cross over and escape from this worldly prison. Harlequins were trapped in the Fourth Realm until they died.

When Maya returned to the diner, the two Mexicans had finished their meals and driven away. She and Gabriel ordered breakfast, then he leaned back in the booth and watched her carefully.

“Let’s assume that people really can cross over into other realms. What’s it like there? Is it dangerous?”

“I don’t know that much about it. That’s why you need a Pathfinder to help you. My father did tell me about two possible dangers. When you cross over, your shell-your body-stays here.”

“And what’s the second danger?”

“Your Light, your spirit, whatever you want to call it, can be killed or injured in another realm. If that happens, then you’re trapped there forever.”

Voices. Laughter. Maya watched the door as four young men entered the restaurant. Out in the parking lot, the desert sun gleamed on their dark blue SUV. Maya evaluated each person in the group and gave them nicknames. Big Arms, Shaved Head, and Fat Boy all wore a mixture of sports team jerseys and workout pants. They looked as if they had just run from an athletic club fire and had grabbed their clothes randomly from different lockers. Their leader-the smallest man, but the one with the loudest voice-wore cowboy boots to make himself look taller. Call him Mustache, she thought. No. Silver Buckle. The buckle was part of an elaborate cowboy belt.

“Sit anywhere you want,” Kathy said.

“Hell yes,” Silver Buckle told her. “We were going to do that anyway.”

Their loud voices, their desire to be recognized, made Maya nervous. She ate quickly, finishing her breakfast, while Gabriel smoothed some strawberry jam onto his toast. The four young men got the restroom key from Kathy and gave their breakfast orders, changing their minds and demanding extra bacon. They told Kathy they were driving back to Arizona after watching a boxing match in Las Vegas. They had lost a large bet on the challenger, plus additional money at the blackjack tables. Kathy took their order and retreated behind the counter. Fat Boy exchanged a twenty-dollar bill for some singles and began to play the slot machines.

“You finished eating?” Maya asked Gabriel.

“In a minute.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Gabriel looked amused. “You don’t like those guys.”

She rattled the ice in her water glass and lied. “I don’t pay any attention to citizens unless they’re in my way.”

“I thought you liked Vicki Fraser. You two were acting like friends…”

“This is a goddamn cheat!” Fat Boy pounded his fist on one of the slot machines. “I just put in twenty bucks and I didn’t even get one back.”

Silver Buckle was sitting across from Shaved Head in a booth. He stroked his mustache and grinned. “Wise up, Davey. It’s set to never pay off. They don’t make enough money from this bad coffee so they rip off a few more bucks from the tourists who play those machines.”

Kathy came out from behind the counter. “It pays off, sometimes. A trucker got a jackpot about two weeks ago.”

“Don’t lie to me, honey. Just give my friend his twenty dollars back. It’s gotta be a law, or something, that you’re supposed to pay a percentage out.”

“Can’t do that. We don’t even own those machines. We just lease them from Mr. Sullivan.”

Big Arms came back inside from the restroom. He stood near the slot machine and listened to the conversation. “We don’t care about that,” he said. “The whole damn state of Nevada is just one big rip-off. Give us the money or a free meal.”

“Yeah,” said Shaved Head. “I’ll go for a free meal.”

“The food doesn’t have anything to do with the slot machines,” Kathy said. “If you ordered a meal, then-”

Fat Boy took three steps over to the counter and grabbed Kathy’s arm. “Hell, I’ll take something other than a free meal.”

His three friends howled their approval. “You sure about that?” Big Arms asked. “Think she’s worth twenty dollars?”

“If she does the four of us, it’s five dollars apiece.”

The door to the kitchen popped open and Kathy’s father came out with a baseball bat. “Let go of her! Right now!”

Silver Buckle looked amused. “Are you threatening me, old man?”

“You’re damn right! Now get your stuff and go!”

Silver Buckle reached across the table and picked up the heavy glass sugar container next to the little red bottle of Tabasco sauce. He sat up slightly and flung the container as hard as possible. Kathy’s father jerked back, but the container hit his left cheek and cracked open. Sugar sprayed everywhere and the old man staggered back.

Shaved Head slid out of the booth. He grabbed the end of the baseball bat, twisted it out of the old man’s hands, and held him in a neck lock. Using the butt end of the bat, Shaved Head struck the old man again and again. The old man went limp and Shaved Head let his victim drop onto the floor.

Maya touched Gabriel’s hand. “Go out through the kitchen.”

“No.”

“This has nothing to do with us.”

Gabriel looked at her with contempt and Maya felt as if she’d been slashed with a knife. She didn’t move-couldn’t move-as Gabriel stood up and took a few steps toward the men.

“Get out of here.”

“And who the hell are you?” Silver Buckle slid out of his booth. Now all four men were standing near the counter. “You’re not telling us nothing.”

Shaved Head kicked Kathy’s father in the ribs. “First thing we’re going to do is lock this old bastard up with that coyote.”

Kathy tried to get away, but Fat Boy held her tightly. “Second thing we do is inspect the merchandise.”

Gabriel showed the uncertainty of someone who had only practiced fighting at a karate school. He stood there, waiting for the attack. “You heard what I said.”

“Yeah. We heard.” Shaved Head waved the baseball bat like a policeman’s nightstick. “You got five seconds to get lost.”

Maya slid out of the booth. Her hands were open and she felt relaxed. Our kind of fighting is like diving into the ocean, Thorn once told her. Falling, but graceful. Pulled by gravity, but controlled.