The professor nodded an apologetic concession.

"So we're there and just hanging and talking and she's telling us about the Tree of Seeing and how we can find it, and all of a sudden we're attacked by this raiding party from the Northern Forces. And everybody's fighting, and this asshole shoots the queen with a special arrow. She's going to die. Trav tries to save her but his healing isn't working. So he decides to Shift. We're like, no, man, don't do it! But he did anyway."

The boy was speaking with such reverence that Dance found herself leaning forward, her leg bobbing with tension. Boling too was staring at him.

"What's that, Jason? Go on."

"Okay, what it is, sometimes, if somebody's dying, you can submit your life to the Entities in the High Realm. It's called Shifting. And the Entities start taking your life force and giving it to the person who's dying. Maybe the person will come back before your life force is gone. But it might take all your life force and you'll die, and they'll die too. Only when you die because you've Shifted, you lose everything. I mean everything you've done and earned, all your points, all your Resources, all your Reputation, for as long as you've been playing the game. They all, like, just go away. If Travis'd died, he would've lost the scepter, his house, his gold, his flying horses… He would have to start over like a newbie."

"He did that?"

Jason nodded. "It was, like, way close. He was almost out of life force, but the queen revived. She kissed him. That was, like, epic! And then the elves and us got together and kicked some Northern Force ass. Man, that night rocked. It was epic win. Everybody who plays the game still talks about it."

Dance was nodding. "Okay, Jason, thanks. You can log off."

"Like, you don't want to play anymore? You were kind of getting a feel for how to move."

"Maybe later."

The boy tapped the keys and the game closed.

Dance glanced at her watch. "Jon, could you take Jason back home? There's somebody I need to talk to."

A to B to X…

I'd like to see Caitlin, please."

"You're…?" asked Virginia Gardner, the mother of the girl who'd survived the June 9 car crash.

Dance identified herself. "I spoke to your daughter the other day at summer school."

"Oh, you're the policewoman. You arranged for the guard for Cait at the hospital the other day, and out in front of our house."

"That's right."

"Have you found Travis?"

"No, I-"

"Is he nearby?" the woman asked breathlessly, looking around.

"No, he's not. I'd just like to ask your daughter a few more questions."

The woman invited Dance into the entryway of the huge contemporary house in Carmel. Dance recalled that Caitlin was headed for some nice undergrad and medical schools. Whatever Dad or Mom did, it seemed they could afford the tuition.

Dance surveyed the massive living room. There were stark abstracts on the walls-two huge, spiky black-and-yellow paintings and one with bloody red splotches. She found them troubling to look at. She thought how different this was from the cozy feel of Travis's and Jason's house in the DimensionQuest game.

Yeah, well, we make cool homes in Aetheria 'cause where we live, I mean, in the real world, our places aren't so nice, you know…

The girl's mother disappeared and a moment later returned with Caitlin, in jeans and a lime green shell under a tight-fitting white sweater.

"Hi," the teenager said uneasily.

"Hello, Caitlin. How you feeling?"

"Okay."

"Hoping you'll have a minute or two. I have a few follow-up questions."

"Sure, I guess."

"Can we sit down somewhere?

"We can go in the sunroom," Mrs. Gardner said.

They passed an office and Dance saw a University of California diploma on the wall. Medical school. Caitlin's father.

The mother and daughter on the couch, Dance in a straight-backed chair. She scooted it closer and said, "I wanted to give you an update. There was another killing today. Have you heard?"

"Oh, no," Caitlin's mother whispered.

The girl said nothing. She closed her eyes. Her face, framed by limp blond hair, seemed to grow paler.

"Really," the mother whispered angrily, "I'll never see how you could go out with somebody like that."

"Mom," Caitlin whined, "what do you mean, 'go out'? Christ, I never went out with Travis. I never would. Somebody like him?"

"I just mean he's obviously dangerous."

"Caitlin," Dance interrupted. "We're really desperate to find him. We're just not having any luck. I'm learning more about him from friends, but-"

Her mother again: "Those Columbine kids."

"Please, Mrs. Gardner."

An affronted look, but she fell silent.

"I told you everything I could think of the other day."

"Just a few more questions. I won't be long." She scooted the chair closer yet and pulled out a notebook. She opened it and flipped through the pages carefully, pausing once or twice.

Caitlin was immobile as she stared at the notebook.

Dance smiled, looking into the girl's eyes. "Now, Caitlin, think back to the night of the party."

"Uh-huh."

"Something interesting's come up. I interviewed Travis before he ran off. I took some notes." A nod at the notebook resting on her lap.

"You did? You talked to him?"

"That's right. I didn't pay much attention until I'd spoken to you and some other people. But now I'm hoping to piece together some clues as to where he's hiding."

"How hard could it be to find-" Caitlin's mother began, as if she couldn't stop herself. But she fell silent under Dance's stern glance.

The agent continued, "Now, you and Travis talked some, right? That night."

"Not really."

Dance was frowning slightly and flipping through her notes.

The girl added, "Well, except when it was time to leave. I meant during the party he was hanging by himself mostly."

Dance said, "On the ride home you did, though." Tapping the notebook.

"Yeah, talked some. I don't remember too much. It was all a blur, with the crash and all."

"I'm sure it was. But I'm going to read you a couple of statements and I'd like you to fill in the details. Tell me if anything jogs your memory about what Travis said on the drive home, before the accident."

"I guess."

Dance consulted her notebook. "Okay, here's the first one: 'The house was pretty sweet but the driveway freaked me out.' " She looked up. "I was thinking maybe that meant Travis had a fear of heights."

"Yeah, that's what he was talking about. The driveway was on this hillside, and we were talking about it. Travis said he'd always had this fear of falling. He looked at the driveway and he said why didn't they have a guardrail on it."

"Good. That's helpful." Another smile. Caitlin reciprocated. Dance returned to the notes. "And this one? 'I think boats rule. I've always wanted one.' "

"Oh, that? Yeah. We were talking about Fisherman's Wharf. Travis really thought it'd be cool to sail to Santa Cruz." She looked away. "I think he wanted to ask me to go with him, but he was too shy."

Dance smiled. "So he might be hiding out on a boat somewhere."

"Yeah, that could be it. I think he said something about how neat it would be to stow away on a boat."

"Good… Here's another one. 'She has more friends than me. I only have one or two I could hang out with.' "

"Yeah, I remember him saying that. I felt sorry for him, that he didn't have many friends. He talked about it for a while."

"Did he mention names? Anybody he might be staying with? Think. It's important."

The teenager squinted and her hand rubbed her knee. Then sighed. "Nope."

"That's okay, Caitlin."

"I'm sorry." A faint pout.