“I think Father’s done with you,” she says to Phen. “You can go back to your little hidey-hole in Rome. Unless you’d give us a ride home? Would you? That would be so sweet of you.”

“All the world’s a stage,” he murmurs, seeming not to hear her. “A stage.”

He turns, letting the curtain drop, and we’re plunged back into utter darkness.

“Oh, come on,” the girl purrs, “we’ll make it worth your while.”

No answer. He’s gone.

“Jerk,” Evil Twin One mutters. “Where’s the next train station? Like five hundred miles from here, I bet. Dumb hick town.”

“You have to admit, though, Phen’s sexy,” teases Evil Twin Two. “I wouldn’t have minded doing him a favor.”

“Just because he’s in a hot body doesn’t mean he’s not an old man inside,” Evil Twin One retorts.

“That’s right; I forgot,” says Evil Twin Two, obviously chewing on something, probably candy from under the counter. “You only go for younger guys.”

“Shut up. Come on, let’s get this over with,” Evil Twin One says.

It’s quiet for a minute. My heart drums in my ears, hard and fast. Then I catch the first whiff of smoke in the air.

This is it.

I know how this is going to happen. I’ve seen it too many times to count. But even so, in the real-life moment, knowing all that I do, I hold on to the hope that they’ll just leave now. I hear them jangling toward the door, and I think, They’ll leave this time, and then we can get out of this black hole that’s got us. I’ll run upstairs, and Anna will still be alive, and I’ll heal her. We’ll find Web. Everything will be okay, somehow.

But then, as always happens, there’s the high-pitched cry, muffled and frightened. And I remember.

Web’s in here with us. Somewhere in this darkness.

Behind me I feel Christian tense like a coiled spring.

“What’s that?” one of the twins says. “Shh. Be quiet.”

As if on cue, the crying abruptly stops. The silence in its wake is deafening. I hold my breath.

Then the curtains part, sending a beam of light down the middle of the auditorium.

“Something’s in there. Get the light.” They scuffle along the wall.

“I can’t find the stupid switch.”

The first one laughs. “Watch this.”

The fireball arcs over my head and strikes the back edge of the left wall, which ignites instantly. I’m blinded by the light.

Christian doesn’t wait for them to see us. “Get down!” he yells, his glory sword like a flare in his hand. I dive for the aisle, which is awkward since it’s slanted. I bang my chin hard and then lie flat as Christian leaps over me, bringing his blade down hard on an evil twin’s black dagger. The sorrow blade crackles and splits, but the girl has another one in her hand before the first has fully disintegrated. She lunges down at him, swiping at his legs, but he moves aside. The other girl hisses and tries to move in on his flank.

“Who are you?” She darts in, and he easily deflects her blow, shatters her dagger.

“Concerned. Citizen,” he gets out between lunges.

They haven’t even seen me.

I scramble backward until my back hits a chair. I watch Christian dodge another strike from the second twin, moving faster than I’ve ever seen him move. Suddenly he veers sideways into the first twin and turns and hurls her into the second one. They stagger but recover quickly, advancing. One hops over a row of seats, then another, attempting to get behind him, but he retreats, keeping them in front of him. They remind me of snakes, I think dazedly, their movements fluid, purposeful, synchronized.

The fire’s spread to the heavy curtains at the edge of the stage now, filling the room with thick black smoke that boils in the rafters overhead. The baby starts to cry again, louder this time, angrier. The twins turn toward the sound.

Christian pivots to stand between them and the direction the cry is coming from. He’s amazing with the sword, whirling and cutting, keeping them at bay almost like a dance, so much more than I ever saw in our training together. There’s a fierceness in him that’s breathtaking to behold. But he’s tiring. I can see that, too.

I need to get up, I think. I need to draw my own sword, and help him.

I get my legs under me and shakily rise to my feet.

No, get back, Christian says in my mind. I’ll hold them off. Find the baby.

Web. My shell-shocked brain struggles to focus. I need to get Web.

I stumble up onto the stage and beyond it, backstage into one of the tiny dressing rooms on the side. There’s fabric everywhere, rolls of it lying around, costumes. I paw through them but don’t hit anything solid like a baby. I try to listen for the crying, but it’s stopped again.

“Web!” I call, even though he obviously can’t answer me. “Web, where are you?”

Over to the other side of the stage I go, to another dressing room, but it’s empty. The fire is on this side, and I can literally feel its heat growing. There’s a snapping sound above me, and one of the lenses from a stage light crashes to the floor, making me scream. It’s dark back here, too freaking dark to see anything.

“Cry, Web, cry,” I call. I hear Christian shout out in pain from somewhere above me, near the door to the lobby. I have to do something.

I stagger into the middle of the stage. I don’t see the bright arc of Christian’s sword or the shadows of the twins anymore. The lobby is completely engulfed in flames. There’s not much time left before I won’t be able to breathe or see or fight my way out of here.

But I can’t leave here without Web.

And then I remember the trapdoor. Angela showed it to us once, when we were bored during Angel Club. It’s a space under the stage only big enough for a person to fit, meant for moments in a play when the character should magically disappear.

trp dr

Angela was trying to tell me where he was.

I dash over to the spot and start tearing at the floorboards, then reach deep down into the dark beneath, coughing on account of the growing smoke, and my fingers touch something soft and warm and alive.

I pull out a bundle wrapped in a blanket.

Web.

I don’t take time to get reacquainted. I snug his body into my shoulder and turn and head straight for the back door, which lets out into the alley behind the building.

Christian, I think. I have him. I’m getting out.

But before I make it three steps, I find my path blocked by the twins.

I take a stumbling step back.

They’re my brother’s girlfriend. At least, one of them is.

“Lucy,” I say, blinking at them in confusion.

“Clara Gardner,” says the one with the jangling bracelets, her dark eyes widening in astonishment. “Oh my God.” She smiles. “What a coincidence, me stumbling upon you here, of all places. Clara, I’d like to introduce you to my sister, Olivia,” she says, like we’ve bumped into each other at the country club.

She killed Anna, I think. That girl just killed my friend’s mother.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” says Olivia, although she’s clearly not charmed. “Give us the baby,” she says. “It’s over.”

I glance over my shoulder, back at the auditorium. Where is Christian?

“Oh, we took care of your friend, although he did put up a pretty good fight,” Lucy says offhandedly. “Now hand us the baby. If you give it to us right now, I promise it’ll be quick when I kill you.”

My throat closes in despair at the idea that Christian is lying in the dark below us somewhere, dead or dying, his soul laid bare. I clutch Web to my chest. He’s being so quiet—too quiet, I think—but I can’t worry about that at the moment.

“Give me the baby,” Lucy says.

I shake my head.

She sighs like I am really wrecking her day. “I’m going to enjoy gutting you.” The black dagger appears in her hand. I sense a kind of humming noise from it, a vibration that resonates all through me. She steps closer to me. “I just adore your brother, you know.” She laughs. “He’s the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. So attentive. So sexy. It’s going to be terrible when he finds out his sister died. So tragically too—a fire. He’s going to need so much TLC to get him through it.”