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‘I meant their real names. Their waking names.’

‘You probably know them. Or you’ve heard of them, anyhow. Kiera and Kieran Kaiser.’

Rhodajane let out a high-pitched squeal. ‘The Kaiser Twins? You’re kidding me! The Kaiser Twins are Night Warriors? I don’t believe it! I love the Kaiser Twins!’

‘Their late mother was Azurina, the Sky Dancer. It was a very great loss to us when she was abducted.’

‘She was abducted?’ said Rhodajane.

‘Kidnapped, yes. Taken away. Not her waking body, but her dream personality, so she never woke up. In the end they turned off her life support.’

‘I thought she died of a stroke, just after giving birth. That’s what it said in OK! magazine, anyhow.’

‘That was what everybody thought, Xyrena, including her doctors. But she was abducted in her sleep by a Dread called the Gray Memory. The Gray Memory took her out of revenge, because she had seriously injured the Gray Memory’s sister, the Pale Confusion, during a battle in the dreaming world. The Pale Confusion could never walk or speak, ever again, either in the dreaming world or the waking world.’

‘The Gray Memory and the Pale Confusion,’ said Rhodajane. ‘Jesus! They sound spooky.’

‘Well, they were, yes — although I don’t think “spooky” quite sums up how dangerous they were, and how scary. We’re pretty sure that the Gray Memory is still hiding in somebody’s nightmare someplace, although we haven’t sensed her presence in more than seven years. It’s possible that she was injured at the same time as her sister was hurt. She could be dead, but I don’t think so. My feeling is that she’s biding her time, so that she can get her revenge on the rest of the Night Warriors who were fighting with Azurina.’

‘When she abducted the Kaiser Twin’s mother — what did she do with her?’

‘She gave her to Brother Albrecht, by way of a gift. Evil people are always doing favors for other evil people; just like good people do favors for good people.

Springer paused for a moment, as if he was thinking about times gone by and all of those people whom time had carried away.

Then he said, ‘The Gray Memory and the Pale Confusion were part of a nightmare army of over a hundred Dreads. They were trying to destroy the human race by erasing our memories — rubbing them out and blurring them. If they had won, none of us would be able clearly to remember our childhood, or one single word of what we were taught when we were growing up. We wouldn’t recognize our own parents, or even remember where we lived. We wouldn’t know what we had done an hour ago, or even five minutes ago. We would have been like orphans, who can never find their way home.’

‘That sounds too much like me to be funny,’ said John. ‘Like, ask me what I ate for breakfast, and I couldn’t tell you.’

‘I wouldn’t want to know,’ Rhodajane retorted. ‘Besides, it would probably take too long for you to recite the entire order. Let me guess, though: you had pancakes.’

‘I always have pancakes. How can you seriously call it “breakfast” unless you have pancakes? That’s like having a funeral service without a stiff.’

‘Come on, you two,’ said Springer. ‘Let’s introduce ourselves to Jekkalon and Jemexxa.’

They left Rhodajane’s room and walked along the corridor together with all the grim-faced determination of a posse in a cowboy movie. Two passing guests turned around to stare at the three of them in bemusement — a fat man with a pompadour in a bursting sport coat, a big-breasted woman in very tight jeans, and a curly-headed young man in a billowing raincoat.

They went down in the elevator to the floor below. Rooms 237 and 239 were on the north-east side of the Griffin House Hotel, the only two rooms at the end of a short private corridor, which was cordoned off with a thick night-club-style rope. It was guarded by two huge black men with shaved heads and mirror sunglasses and black suits that rivaled the size of Brother Albrecht’s circus tents.

John and Rhodajane approached them cautiously, expecting to be stopped. But as they came nearer, the security guards unhooked the rope, and pressed themselves back against the walls on either side, so that their double-chins bulged out. ‘Afternoon, Ms Schulz. How’s it going?’

‘Fine, thanks, Sherwin. How are you, Lamar? I think we’re all set for tonight.’

John turned around and accidentally stumbled over one of the security guard’s feet. That voice wasn’t Deano’s. That wasn’t even a man’s voice. He and Rhodajane were being closely followed by a small Jewish-looking woman with a haircut like a jet-black skullcap and a large complicated nose and pouting crimson lips. She was wearing an electric-bronze suit with padded shoulders and a flared waistline and a skirt that was much too short and tight for her age.

‘Come on, John!’ she said, pushing him forward. ‘Always such a klutz!’ She looked up at the security guard and said, ‘Sorry, Lamar.’

‘No problem, Ms Schulz.’

The Jewish-looking woman took hold of John’s sleeve and Rhodajane’s sleeve, too, and pulled both of them along the corridor together until they reached Room 237.

‘What in hell is going on here?’ Rhodajane protested. ‘Who are you? What the hell happened to what’s-his-face?’

The woman stared up at her and her eyes were glittering intently. ‘I am what’s-his-face, Xyrena. How do you think I can gain access to any place I need to? How do you think I can win people’s confidence? Whoever people trust, whoever they confide in, that’s who I am.’

‘And right now?’ John asked her.

‘Right now, John-boy, I’m a dead ringer for Lois Schulz, the Kaiser Twins’ manager. It’s an illusion, that’s all. I can look like anybody. I could look like you, if I wanted to.’

‘What if the real Lois Schulz is here right now?’ asked Rhodajane. ‘You’re going to walk in and there’s going to be two Lois Schulzes?’

‘No chance of that. Right now the real Lois Schulz is at the State Theater, making last-minute adjustments to the lighting sequences for tonight’s show. And she’s not very happy, so she’s going to be gone for some time.’

‘OK. I believe you. I don’t know why I believe you. I shouldn’t believe you. But I believe you.’

Springer gave a quick knock at Room 237 and called out, ‘Hi, there, kids! It’s only me!’

She opened the door and walked right in. Rhodajane grabbed John’s sleeve and let out a squeaky, hysterical whisper right into his left ear. ‘The Kaiser Twins! It’s really them! I can’t believe it!’

‘Come on,’ said John. ‘They’re only human, just like us.’

‘But they’re so famous! And I love them!’

Kieran and Kiera were both in Room 237. Kieran was sprawled out on the bed in a torn red T-shirt and gray jogging pants, playing Killer Zombies; while Kiera was perched on the rococo stool in front of her dressing table, wearing nothing but a Rams football shirt, polishing her toenails with purple glitter.

‘You’re back quick, Lois,’ said Kieran, without taking his eyes off the TV screen. ‘Are you happy with all of those lights now?’

‘Actually, I brought a couple of old friends of mine to see you,’ said Springer. John was still fascinated by Springer’s transformation into ‘Lois Schulz.’ Enormous gold hoops as big as parrot perches swung from her ear lobes and she wore knobbly semi-precious rings on every finger, as well as an ostentatious sapphire brooch in the shape of a death’s-head moth. ‘This is Rhodajane and this is John. Say hi, twins.’