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weaseled their way past the bouncers, but he sure had one now. It was impossible to
move without bumping into people, sweaty arms slicking against his. He found himself
involuntarily dancing as he walked, and Sarah looked mortified at his lack of talent.
She mouthed the words You’re cute, but she rolled her eyes as she said it.
A sea of people. Pure, unbreakable noise. Disorienting lights. And that unending beat.
Michael was already sick of it. But they needed to nd a person named Ronika, who
supposedly knew everything about everything. How were you supposed to nd anyone
in a place like this?
Michael looked around and realized Bryson and Sarah were no longer beside him.
With a jolt of panic, he spun in a circle searching for them, pointlessly calling out their
names. He was on edge—they’d gotten in illegally, and it made him nervous—but his
friends’ disappearing so fast felt wrong. Michael stopped, and someone pushed him from
behind; an elbow struck him in the side of the neck. Over the deafeningly loud music, he
heard a woman’s laugh.
Then he fell through the floor.
5
It wasn’t like a trapdoor. And the oor didn’t collapse. Instead, as everything around
him continued on, his body became immaterial and transparent, and he sank as the
dancing people around him seemed to rise toward the sky. Michael quickly looked down
and saw his legs and torso slip through the shiny black tile like a ghost.
He instinctively closed his eyes when his head went through, and when he opened
them again he’d emerged in a dimly lit room lled with formal furniture. Tufted
couches, mahogany paneling, and ornately carved lamps surrounded him, and his feet
landed softly on a lush Oriental rug. Bryson and Sarah were standing nearby, looking at
Michael as if he was late for a party. But no one else was in the room.
“Um, what just happened?” Michael asked. Seeing his friends made him feel better,
despite the fact that he’d sunk through the floor.
“Something pulled us in here is what happened,” Bryson answered. “Which means we
probably didn’t get into the club quite as stealthily as we thought.”
“Hello?” Sarah called out. “Who brought us here?”
A door in the back swung open, spilling a fan of light across the oor. A woman
walked in, and the only word Michael could think of to describe her was whoa. Not
beautiful, not sexy, not old or young or anything else. He found it impossible to guess
her age or even say if she was ugly or pretty. But her elegant black dress, her gray hair,
her wise face, everything about her screamed authority.
Michael prayed that Bryson wouldn’t say something stupid.
“Have a seat,” the woman said as she walked toward them. “I have to say I’m
impressed with your little trick outside, though the two idiots who fell for it have already
been red.” She sat down in a plush leather chair and crossed her legs. “I told you to
take a seat.”