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  “We’ll be … Avengers?”

  Ah, that word had meant something to him. “Yes, that is what I said. We will be avengers.”

  The child’s eyes glowed with tears again, and Lenna added, “Hunters do not cry. It interferes with their ability to do the job well.”

  Elijah’s lip trembled momentarily, then it stopped, and he squared his little shoulders. “I want to be a Hunter.”

  “And so you shall.”

  Lenna had allowed Elijah to help choose an outfit for her to wear. The activity seemed to calm him, and truth be told she had no idea which of the myriad outfits—which included everything from two long flowing gowns to soft plaid shirts with frayed hems and holes in the pockets—would be appropriate for her short time in Seven. It was winter here, and so the clothes they decided upon were warm. There were pants he called blue jeans, and a long-sleeved shirt with an emblem of a weapon on the front, and the word Braves. She thought that an appropriate choice. There was also a warm coat, though as Lenna was accustomed to the cold she might not need it.

  Elijah didn’t want to be alone, so he simply turned his back while she changed.

  Dressed in clothes that were not nearly as comfortable as her own, Lenna chose as her shoes fur-lined boots that were only a bit too large.

  There was an extensive collection of bags in the closet. The one Lenna picked out was made of a soft red fabric, and had a long strap. A bag of some sort was a necessity. She would eventually have a weapon to conceal, and the long strap could be used to bind or strangle. These ideas she kept to herself. She also folded her dress as tightly as she could and put it in the bottom of the bag. She didn’t want to leave it behind, not only because the fabric could prove useful, but because Nilean silkine didn’t exist in this world and leaving it behind could create a dangerous anomaly. She didn’t know for certain, so better to be too cautious than too reckless. She also removed her rings and bracelet and dropped them in the bag. They were not of this world, and it was always possible that someone would notice.

  After she was dressed she paused, staring at the tarot cards scattered across the closet floor. Should she leave the deck here? It was just large enough to be troublesome, especially if she returned the cards to the box that had housed them. But the cards were incredibly powerful, too powerful to simply leave. She tried to remember everything she’d read about the Alexandria Deck, but the deck had been thought destroyed, legend rather than fact, so she hadn’t completely exercised her superb memory. She did know that the deck had to be complete for its powers to work.

  If she left the deck here and someone else found it, seized it, Elijah definitely wouldn’t be able to find a way to get her home. Neither would whatever Hunter had been—or would soon be—sent to collect her. On the other hand, she didn’t want to take the complete deck with her. Some instinct warned her that would be too dangerous, that it would draw to her those who sought power.

  Rendering the deck useless was the best she could do. Swiftly she leaned down and plucked her card from the closet floor, and tucked it in a side pocket of the bag. It was just a single card, but it made the bag seem suddenly heavy.

  And, as a safeguard, not enough. Without looking she grabbed another card and stowed it in a different compartment of the bag. She would hide it in a safe place, a place only she knew. Then she gathered the remaining scattered cards and neatly placed them in their box, and restored the box to what she thought must be its accustomed place. She hoped no one noticed the closet had been disturbed, or checked that the deck was complete.

  Elijah still didn’t want to be alone so she followed him to his friend Zack’s room, where he put on some blue jeans and a shirt that sported yet another emblem, this one a hawk. He sat on the floor to pull some socks on his bare feet, then put on a pair of Zack’s shoes, which were too big and slipped up and down when he walked. There was no help for it; they weren’t likely to find any smaller shoes. She pulled a coat out of Zack’s closet and bundled Elijah into it.

  “When we study the scene of—” she stopped before she said your mother’s murder and instead finished with “—your home, we will collect your own shoes.”

  “I don’t want to go in there, not ever again,” he said, sounding small and weak. Of course he did, because he was both. He was a child.

  “Be a Hunter,” she whispered.

  Elijah shook his head.

  The poor child. Lenna held out a small hope that Elijah was wrong and his mother wasn’t dead. She could lay her hands on him and see what he had seen, but as she understood it, children were different. Their brains were more fragile. If she learned directly from an adult human by the laying on of hands, the knowledge was shared, not stolen. No damage would be done. She couldn’t be sure the same was true of a child, so she wouldn’t risk him; instead, she would go to see for herself.

  “I will collect your shoes for you,” Lenna said, standing and slipping the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

  “Okay.”

  Lenna was surprised when Elijah took her hand and held on. He seemed to take comfort from the connection, and his hand was so small and helpless, the child himself so trusting. If his mother was dead, it was a catastrophe that could destroy his life. She could encourage him to be strong, to pretend he was a Hunter, but reality was much different.

  His little hand squeezed hers, and in that moment Lenna was more determined than ever to see that justice was dealt to Uncle Bobby.

  When they reached the kitchen, Elijah released her hand and ran to the corner of the room, where he opened a drawer and reached inside. That little hand came out clutching a small wad of green paper.

  “Zack’s mom’s pizza money,” he said as he stuffed the paper into his pocket. “We might need it.”

  They walked along the sidewalk, making the first footprints in the pristine snow. Elijah seemed both amazed and delighted by the snow, in those moments when he wasn’t thinking about his mother. He stomped up and down, and once he bent down to scoop up a handful and shape it into a rough ball, which he then threw at a bush. The day was young, so early that no one else was out and about, and the silence had a hushed, waiting quality to it.

  The houses were too close together, to Lenna’s way of thinking. She was accustomed to more space. In Aeonia each Major Arcana had what these humans would consider their own kingdom, with castles, if that was what they chose, or cabins, if that was their choice, or—like her—a fine house four or five times as large as any of these homes. She’d never wanted a castle or a cabin. Her home fell somewhere in between. Her lands, though, were extensive.

  Elijah grabbed her hand again, his little fingers cold from the snow. She continued to survey her surroundings, acquainting herself with his world. The houses themselves weren’t impressive, at least not to her, but many of them sported colorful lights as decoration. She did like those.

  “The lights on that house are pretty,” she said, lifting the hand Elijah held and pointing.

  “They’re Christmas lights,” the boy said.

  Her knowledge of modern Seven was limited, but she did know Christmas.

  “I’ve never seen a white tattoo before,” he said, looking cautiously from one house to another. “Why do you have a sideways eight on your back?”

  She lifted her brows. “You saw my sign?” She had of necessity bared her body when she changed, but the child was supposed to have kept his back turned to her.

  “Sorry. I just peeked a little!”

  She wasn’t an exhibitionist; the thought of a child seeing her bare made her uneasy, but she would not blush. The sign was one of power, and certainly nothing to be ashamed of.

  “It is not a sideways eight—it’s an infinity symbol.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Infinity means forever. Without end.” Like her life, though the child wouldn’t grasp that concept at all.

  His own house, the one he led her to, didn’t have any Christmas lights. The front door was locked, the house qu