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“Pins and needles,” Meg replied.

“That’s bad, right? Shouldn’t we call someone?”

Meg tried to steady her breathing. “It’s fading. That feeling usually means something bad is going to happen, but when it fades then the bad thing won’t happen.”

The pins-and-needles feeling returned with such ferocity, Meg stifled a cry. When Merri Lee turned toward the phone on the counter, Meg grabbed her arm and whispered, “No. Stay near the Private door, but stay out of sight.”

“Meg, you’re scaring me.”

“Me too.” But she stepped into the front room and stood behind the counter just as a small, dapper man pulled the door open.

Not a deliveryman. For one thing, he wasn’t dressed like a deliveryman. For another, he wasn’t carrying any packages.

Every scar on Meg’s body began to burn as the man walked toward her. Every scar except the ones she’d acquired since coming to the Courtyard.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Oh, my dear,” he replied in a voice ripe with kindness. “I’m here to help you.”

Trust me.

She didn’t hear the words, but she would have sworn he said them. “I don’t need help.”

His smile was sweet, but the eyes behind the glasses were oddly blank of any emotion. “You do need help. I can see it, feel it. You’re overwhelmed by the outside world, and it will chew you up. But I can take you to a safe place, a good place where you’ll be looked after. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Of course she would like that. Who wouldn’t like to feel safe? And if the scars weren’t filling her with so much burning pain, she would put her hand in the one he was holding out and follow that soft, compelling voice to …

A soft hiss from Merri Lee, barely heard. But it was enough to conjure the training image of a snake rising out of a basket and a man playing some kind of instrument. Snake charmer.

“What’s your name?” she asked, struggling to ignore his voice. She took a step back to avoid being within reach of his hand.

“I’m Phineas Jones. I’m here to help you.” He walked around the counter to the go-through and slid the top bolt open. But the go-through, still secured by the hidden bolts, didn’t budge.

Phineas Jones, Meg thought as she heard Merri Lee whispering, “Shark, shark, shark.” No biting.

Thank the gods Nathan wasn’t the watch Wolf this morning. Skippy was too involved with the cookie to notice a stranger in the office, but Nathan wouldn’t have hesitated to bite the hand that had reached for her, regardless of any warning she gave.

She backed up until she stood in the Private doorway. “The office is closing in a couple of minutes for the midday break. If you need assistance, you should call at the consulate to make an appointment.”

He stared at her with those blank eyes. “You need to come with me. I can help you. I can make the hurting go away.”

She still wanted to believe him, couldn’t stop herself from believing him.

Then Merri Lee, hiding on the side of the doorway where she couldn’t be seen, grabbed the back of Meg’s sweater, a reminder that she already had help from people she could trust.

“You have to leave now,” Meg said, trying to sound firm and professional but hearing the quiver in her voice. “We’re closed.”

He pushed at the go-through again, then reached down, feeling for the hidden bolts.

If he got in, she wouldn’t be the only one in danger. “We’re closed!” she shouted as she stumbled back into the sorting room. She locked the Private door, then hurried to the receiving doors to make sure those were locked too.

“Meg?” Merri Lee whispered. “I think he was trying to hypnotize you. Do you know what that is?”

“Snake charmer,” she replied as she hurried to the back room. She didn’t lock that outside door. The Others used it to pick up the mail for the Market Square, HGR, and A Little Bite—and there was the unspoken worry now that she might cut herself and they wouldn’t be able to reach her in time if all the doors were locked.

Skippy was on his feet, watching them come into the room. Meg wasn’t sure if he finally sensed something was wrong or if he’d finished the cookie and was hoping to get another one.

Whatever the reason, the Wolf stood between her and the back door when Phineas Jones walked in.

“Get out!” Merri Lee yelled. “I’m calling the police!”

She would never know if it was the tone of Merri Lee’s voice or the words or a spike of fear that Skippy picked up, but something made the youngster turn on Jones, who scrambled out the door.

“No biting!” Meg yelled as Skippy rushed after Jones.

She grabbed the broom and went after the Wolf.

It was like a movie with gaps, only she was the person in the pictures. Inside the office, grabbing the broom … skip … outside, screaming as Phineas Jones raised an arm in a protective gesture and Skippy prepared to leap on the intruder and bite … skip … swinging the broom and whacking Skippy so hard she bowled him over … skip … Crows cawing, Wolves howling … skip … screaming as she whacked Phineas Jones with the broom … skip … more screaming as Merri Lee beat on Jones with the teakettle … skip … suddenly surrounded by heads and bodies that were and weren’t human … skip … Simon grabbing her, dragging her away and shouting something at Charlie Crowgard and …

They were in the back room. Merri Lee looked as sick and dizzy as Meg felt. And there was Charlie standing between them and the door, changing his position and raising his arms to prevent Merri Lee from going to the window that would give her a view of whatever was happening behind the office.

Shouts. Roars. Howls. Caws. Screams.

Silence.

Then Charlie, looking grim, said, “Simon wants you to call the police. He said you would know which one.”

With their arms linked, Meg and Merri staggered into the sorting room to reach the telephone on the counter. Meg’s hands shook so much she could barely lift the receiver.

“I can’t remember the number,” Meg said. “Lieutenant Montgomery.”

“We’ll call Michael. He’ll reach everyone else.” Merri Lee punched in the numbers while Meg held the receiver.

Just as Michael Debany answered the phone, Charlie stepped into the doorway and said, “Tell the police to bring humans who can handle dangerous things.”

Having delivered the message and given Michael a shaky reassurance that she and Merri weren’t hurt, the two women returned to the back room.

“I can make some tea,” Merri Lee said, turning toward the counter. “It’s gone. The electric teakettle is …” She swallowed convulsively a couple of times, then ran into the bathroom and threw up.

“Meg?” A gentle voice. Kind in a way that wasn’t at all like Phineas Jones’s voice. A voice she really could trust.

She focused on Charlie, who was crouched beside her on the floor.

“You have feathers in your eyebrows,” she said.

He looked embarrassed. “I’m having some trouble holding the human shape.”

They were all having trouble holding on to the human shape. People teeth weren’t as useful as beaks and fangs, and … She grabbed Charlie’s arm. “No biting. Poison frog. Tell Simon no biting!”

“He knows,” Charlie said, patting her hand. “You told him, told all of us. Don’t you remember?”

She’d been too scared to remember. Suddenly exhausted, she lay flat on the floor, releasing her grip on Charlie’s arm.

“Just tired,” she said when he made some inarticulate sound of distress. “Just tired. Tell Simon all the pins and needles are gone.”

She heard Merri Lee return and ask a question, but she slid into sleep before she heard Charlie’s reply.

Monty tried not to think about what they would find in the Courtyard. For now, it was enough that Simon Wolfgard had placed the call. Well, not Wolfgard personally, but he’d sanctioned the call.