arrangement on the shelf. I could tell by their scent that they were fresh. A small tree stood in the corner, wrapped in a strand of soft white lights.
“Well come in or stay out, don’t just stand there letting the ash in.” A voice called from down the hall. I approached cautiously, the music getting louder as I stepped forward down the long corridor, passing a grandfather clock that ticked softly.
“Am I dreaming?” April whispered, sticking close behind me. The kitchen was even brighter; but not the clinical, fluorescent lights I was used to. These were somehow warm and natural. A woman had her back to us at the counter, holding a knife and slicing up tomatoes.
“It’s rude to stare,” she said without looking up. “Take a seat, dinner will be ready in a minute.”
She nodded into the dining room next to the kitchen. A table was already set with plates and silverware that gleamed in the candlelight. My mouth watered from the scents. Apple pie, roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy.
None of us moved to sit. It was all too surreal.
“Who are you?” Trevor asked, gripping his weapons tightly as we crowded together near the entrance.
“Forgive my manners,” she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel and turning to face us for the first time with a bright smile.
“Rebecca Hartmann,” she said, “but you can call me Becky.”
The air was pulled out of my lungs, like I’d been punched. Somehow I knew she wasn’t lying. Something about her eyes, the way she tilted her neck, reminded me too much of Damien.
Somehow, his mother was still alive. She’d been alive the whole time.
“Now, why don’t you pour yourself some wine, and we can talk about what you’re doing here. I don’t often get guests, and certainly no one like yourselves. It is so difficult to find a stimulating conversation, or news from the outside.”
Luke ignored the wine bottle on the table and reached into a cabinet for a bottle of rum. He poured a glass for himself and handed one for Trevor. He shook his head at the bucket of ice cubes, before using the metal tongs to add several to his glass.
My head was still spinning. I couldn’t think of anything else to say so I sat at the table, my knees buckling beneath me. The others joined me and soon our host sat as well, after setting down a plate of crackers, olives and feta cheese.
She was wearing a casual black blouse and dark jeans, which made her look young despite her age. She looked around 40, but I knew she must easily be a century and a half old. She was elite, like Damien and his father. She had to be.
“How is this possible?” I asked finally. I was afraid to reveal too much about who we were or what we were after. I didn’t know if she’d help us, or get in our way.
She shook her dark, tangled curls and tapped a long finger against her wine glass. Her nails were painted a bright pink, a custom that was relatively common in the citadel, yet rare in the compounds.
“This house I mean,” I said. “Out here, all alone.”
“I prefer my solitude,” she said simply, as if that explained everything. My eyelids were starting to feel heavy and I blinked them open.
“You’re a brave little band of adventurers aren’t you? Wandering these twisted streets alone. It’s a good thing you saw my lights and decided to stop for some comfort and shelter. After all, it is dark and cold tonight, and the night can be unforgiving.”
Looking down, I saw that my plate was half empty.
Had I already eaten so much?
“Forgive me,” she said, with a light trill of laughter. “I’ve kept you up too late with all my questions. You’ll stay the night, of course. I assure you, as long as you stay with me, you should have nothing to fear.”
I looked at the others through heavy eyelids, and nobody objected. It wasn’t like we had any better offers.
Mrs. Hartmann took a candle and led the way upstairs, into a small, clean bedroom. In the upstairs hallway I lingered over framed photographs. Damien, Richard and her, on holiday. Smiling, happy. The clear, sunny sky behind them. A boat beneath palm trees.
“You have a lovely family,” I said.
“Yes,” she said. There was a hesitant sadness on her face, like she was trying to remember something, but she just gestured into the spare room.