Not Henry for one—he was already waiting for me.
“How about a little visit to Amy?” He’d smiled when he saw me. “And then you can tell me, at your leisure, how you fixed everything with my father.”
I wasn’t about to do that, for sure. But anything seemed possible in Amy’s brightly colored, peaceful dream world. Even that Henry and I might … “Okay,” I said quickly.
However, it was at that precise moment, of course, that London’s number one demon fan appeared in front of us, newly discharged from the psychiatric hospital, without a doubt after being given the all clear for mental health by a doctor who was either as crazy as Anabel herself or had been manipulated in his dreams.
“Anabel!” I crossed my arms. “How did you get Dr. Anderson to discharge you?”
“Dr. Anderson?” Anabel raised an eyebrow. “Oh, he has nothing to do with my discharge. No, the good doctor is asleep,” she cheerfully explained. “Asleep for … well, I’m afraid it will be forever.”
“He’s dead?” I asked, horrified. I remembered Anabel’s threat at our last meeting and the way Senator Tod had disappeared without a trace. It looked very much as if Anabel had been as good—or bad—as her word. I suddenly felt icy cold.
Anabel laughed. “Oh, no! He really is asleep. And the best of it is, he thinks he’s awake.”
Oh God, that sounded kind of familiar to me. I felt goose bumps coming up all over myself.
“I’ve locked him into his own dream,” Anabel went on. “He’s been sleeping for two whole weeks now, and no one can wake him.”
“That is really…,” Henry murmured. I reached for his hand.
“Brilliant, yes,” Anabel finished the sentence for him. “I know. The doctors can’t explain what’s the matter with him. All his vital functions are working perfectly. Well, not quite all of them. He has to be artificially fed, but he doesn’t know about that. He lies peacefully in bed and thinks his life is going on as usual. He has no idea that he’s still dreaming.”
A groan escaped me. Why had we had to go this way? Why hadn’t I simply enjoyed the lovely evening, which could have given me the illusion that everything was all right, and left it at that?
Anabel gave me an understanding look. “You’re not feeling sorry for him, are you? It’s all he deserves. Unlike your sister.” She glanced at Mia’s forget-me-not-blue door and the grim figure of Mr. Wu standing outside it. “Arthur’s plans for her were really horrible. And I hope you all realize he’ll be pursuing them with more determination than ever.”
“Yes,” said Henry, sighing. “Arthur is as persistent as you are.”
“With the difference being that he does it to get revenge,” said Anabel. “He has a score to settle with me too. And I’m afraid that now I’ve been discharged from the hospital he’ll want me to pay it.”
Henry and I exchanged a glance. Was he thinking what had just crossed my own mind? That it would be a good thing if Arthur and Anabel destroyed each other?
“You’ve seen what perfect command he has over dreams now,” Anabel went on. “But I’m even better. And it would be clever of you to work with me. Together, we can keep Arthur … at bay.”
Henry’s grasp of my hand tightened. Was Anabel seriously offering to do a deal with us?
“Maybe—” she began, but the squeal of door hinges interrupted her. The sound came from Grayson’s door, which obviously needed oiling. However, it wasn’t Grayson who came out and carefully closed the door.
“Emily?” I cried incredulously. I didn’t believe it! This must be Arthur making himself look like Emily.
Emily stared at us in alarm. She looked like a child caught in the act of stealing candy. “Oh, it’s you two,” she murmured. “And, Anabel … I didn’t know that you were another…” Then she pulled herself together and assumed her most arrogant governessy expression. “Well, if you’re standing around looking stupid, maybe you can tell me where to find Grayson’s grandmother’s door.”
It really was Emily. She knew about the corridors. And she’d been in Grayson’s dream, the nasty creature! Presumably not for the first time.
“You—” I began, but Henry let go of my hand and interrupted me. “Mrs. Spencer’s door? Turn left twice, then right—at least, that’s where it was recently. It’s the ocher door with gold fittings. And there’s a clipped box bush in a tub outside it.”
“Oh, good. Thanks.” Emily tossed back her gleaming hair and stalked away.
Bewildered, I watched her disappear. “Why did you let her go? And what…?”
Anabel laughed again. She wound a strand of her golden hair around one finger. “Arthur is clever. He’s looking for allies who are in the same boat. All of us ought to do that. It wasn’t a bad choice to let Emily in on the secret. She may not have much imagination, but she certainly has plenty of motive. If only on account of Grayson.”