Excerpts

Chapter One The past . . . "Higher," Molly shouted, thrilling to the reckless sense of freedom she got on the swings. "I can almost see the sign." Leona obliged, pushing harder on the playground swing. The billboard on the other side of the brick wall came into view. It had been erected a few months earlier and had not yet had time to fade in the desert sun. griffin investigations. want answers? we'll get them for you. call now. no waiting. Beneath the words was a phone number printed in giant red letters. Molly and Leona had both spent so much time on the swings they had memorized it. Molly's full name was Molly No Middle Initial No Last Name. She was six and a half years old. Her sister's name was Leona No Middle Initial No Last Name. Leona was also six and a half years old. Ms. Inskip, the director of the Inskip School for Orphan Girls, had explained that although they had been left on the doorstep of the school together when they were infants, Molly and Leona were not biological sisters. Molly and Leona had decided to ignore her. After a while Ms. Inskip had given up trying to explain the facts of DNA. A few months earlier, Molly had found a couple small chunks of untuned amber in the orphanage garden. During arts and crafts class, she and Leona had figured out how to tie lengths of ribbon around the amber to create necklaces. They wore the pendants night and day, symbols of their sisterhood. Molly and Leona had grown up together within the confines of the school. It was not a bad place like the orphanages in some of the stories they read. Ms. Inskip was stern but not mean. For the most part she hired trained, caring teachers and staff. As the years went by, Molly and Leona had watched as the other girls who wound up in the orphanage were adopted. But no one had ever wanted the sisters with no last names. Ms. Inskip had told them that they were very special and that someday special parents would come to adopt them. They had stopped believing her. "Can you see it yet?" Leona demanded, giving the swing another strong shove. "'Want answers?'" Molly sang out. "'We'll get them for you. Call now. No waiting.'" She rattled off the phone number. "My turn," Leona announced. Molly wanted to argue, but there were rules. They had agreed that when the sign came into view it was time to take turns on the swing. Besides, Ms. Inskip would soon call them back inside. The director believed in an orderly routine. She claimed it was the best way to ensure that the orphaned girls in her care developed what she called the life skills needed to take their place as respectable, responsible adults in society. What Molly and Leona were gradually figuring out was that becoming a respectable, responsible adult in a society in which family and family connections were everything was not easy for orphans-and even more difficult for those whose last name was No Last Name. A complete absence of basic personal information-no birth certificates, no sad notes from desperate unwed mothers, no ancestry records-was an extremely rare circumstance, but Ms. Inskip insisted that was the case for Molly and Leona. Molly reluctantly jumped off the swing. Leona took her place. "Make it go really high," Leona ordered. She was inclined to tell others what to do and how to do it whether or not they wanted the instructions. Molly pushed until Leona was flying high enough to read the Griffin Investigations sign. She was about to demand another turn on the swings when a man's arm wrapped around her from behind, squeezing her so hard she couldn't breathe. A big hand clamped across her mouth. Remembering Ms. Inskip's rules for dealing with Stranger Danger, she struggled wildly. But in the next instant she felt a sharp sting on her upper shoulder. She got dizzy. She was dimly aware that the stranger was carrying her out through the open gate. She wondered briefly how he had managed to steal the key from Ms. Inskip, and then she fell into darkness. The last thing she heard before she went unconscious was Leona's scream. Chapter Two The past . . . She woke up in a radiant green chamber. There was a high, arched doorway but no windows. She was a fan of the rez-screen series Jake Carlisle, Underworld Explorer, so she recognized the setting immediately. She was in the maze of ancient underground tunnels that crisscrossed the planet. Two metal tables sat in the center of the room. There were a notebook and a small pile of yellow crystals on one of the tables. The other table was covered with glass tubes and jars, some of which contained strangely colored liquids. The items reminded Molly of a scene in the video Ms. Inskip had made the girls watch the previous week, Do I Want to Be a Scientist When I Grow Up? She remembered that chambers like the one she was in were called laboratories. Leona had been fascinated with the video. Molly had been bored. At the thought of Leona, she reached up to take comfort from the amber pendant. But it was gone. She realized she must have lost it in the struggle with the stranger. Out of nowhere, terror swept over her, closing her throat and making it almost impossible to breathe. There was no sign of the man who had taken her, but she was sure he was not far away. She was afraid to move, because every instinct warned her that doing so might draw his attention. After a while she realized she could not stay motionless forever. She had to pee and then she had to escape. She scrambled to her feet, never taking her eyes off the doorway. When the stranger did not appear, she started to move out into the hall to search for a bathroom. Without warning the doorway began to shiver with shadows. Another wave of fear lanced through her. Somehow she knew she must not touch the strange darkness that whispered in the opening. Unable to come up with an alternative, she retreated to a corner to take care of the immediate problem. When she was finished, she went back to the doorway again, hoping the scary shadows were gone. She was not sure what she would do if she did get out of the horrible chamber. Like every other kid on Harmony, she and the girls at the orphanage had been warned repeatedly about the risks of going down into the maze of ancient green quartz tunnels that crisscrossed the planet. Children who went into the Underworld alone never returned to the surface, according to Ms. Inskip. But anything was better than staying in the laboratory waiting for the stranger to come back. She moved as cautiously as she could, trying to sneak up on the shadows, but when she was a couple of steps away, they flared in the doorway, blocking her path. She looked around the small space. There was nowhere to hide. She stood in the center of the room, tears leaking from her eyes, unable to think of anything else to do. She cried until she could not cry any more and then she hunkered down against a wall, drew up her knees, and hugged her legs close, trying to make herself as small as possible. She had no idea how much time passed before the first dust bunny showed up in the doorway. He stood on his hind paws and chortled. He looked just like the pictures of Newton, the Clever Dust Bunny, the hero of her favorite series of children's books. He was a scruffy ball of gray fur with two small ears and six paws. He watched her with his bright blue eyes. She knew he had a second set that he used for hunting, but they were closed. It was such a relief to see a nonthreatening creature that she almost cried again. "Hi," she whispered. The dust bunny fluttered through the doorway, unconcerned about the dark shadows, and halted in front of her. She patted him gently on top of his furry head. "You should leave before the stranger comes," Molly said. "He'll probably hurt you." The dust bunny made encouraging noises and zipped back and forth between her and the doorway. She shook her head. "I can't leave," she said. "The shadows won't let me." The dust bunny abandoned the attempt to coax her out of the chamber. He gave a farewell chortle and disappeared out into the hall. She wanted to cry again but she couldn't. It was as if she could not feel anything at all now. After a while she went to the table that held the yellow crystals. Curious, she picked one up. It felt good in her hand. She dropped it into the pocket of her blue Inskip School uniform. Then she chose a second stone for Leona and put it in her other pocket. The dust bunny returned some time later. At first she thought she was dreaming. In her many lectures on the risks of wandering into the tunnels, Ms. Inskip had talked about something called hallucinations. She had explained that they were among the many terrible things that happened to little girls who took a notion to explore the Underworld. She had explained that experiencing hallucinations was a lot like falling into a bad dream while you were awake. The dust bunny chortled and bustled through the doorway, once again ignoring the shadows. Molly decided she did not care if he was a hallucination. "Thanks for coming back," she whispered. "I'm glad to see you again, but it isn't safe here. You should go." The dust bunny ignored the advice and bounced a little, clearly excited about something. She picked him up and hugged him close, taking comfort from his furry presence. But he immediately wriggled free and fluttered back toward the doorway. He chortled down the hallway. A moment later she realized he had not returned alone. A half dozen dust bunnies scampered through the doorway and chortled at the sight of her. It was as if they had just played a game and won. They were beside themselves with glee. Before Molly could understand what was going on, two women appeared in the opening. They had flamers in their hands and knives on their belts. Both wore small day packs, the kind adults carried when they went into the Underworld, but aside from the weapons and the packs, neither of them was dressed like Jake Carlisle, Underworld Explorer. The shorter one had shoulder-length, silver-blond hair. She wore tight faded jeans, a crisp white shirt, a wide leather belt studded with amber, and boots. The taller woman had on a blue pantsuit and low-heeled dress shoes. There was a pretty scarf around her throat. Her dark hair was pinned up in a knot. Both women wore matching wedding rings. "Told you the dust bunnies were not playing a game," the one with blond hair said. "Hang on while I de-rez the shadow trap." A moment later the strange darkness that had barred the doorway disappeared. The dust bunnies chortled approval. Molly gazed at the two women. A part of her was thrilled, but she was also worried about hallucinations. "Are you angels?" The one with blond hair chuckled as she strode through the opening. "Sorry, no. Charlotte and I were out partying at a bar the night the angel recruiter came around looking for talent." "What?" Molly said. "Never mind, honey," Charlotte said. "Eugenie here likes to make dumbass jokes at inappropriate times." "Ms. Inskip doesn't like it if we say dumbass," Molly said. "Screw Ms. Inskip," Eugenie said cheerfully. She surveyed the room. "On second thought, forget that idea. What the hell is this place?" "It's a laboratory," Molly announced. "I saw one in the career video." "Good observation," Charlotte said. She went to the smaller table and scooped up the notebook. "Here's the deal, kid," Eugenie said. "We're no angels but we're the next best thing. We're the team from Griffin Investigations." Molly was dazzled. "'Want answers? We'll get them for you,'" she recited. "'Call now. No waiting.'" Charlotte glanced at Eugenie. "And you said those signs were a waste of money." She turned back to Molly. "Your sister, Leona, called us. When we showed up at the Inskip School, she told us what had happened and gave us your necklace. Helen Inskip claimed you'd been adopted, but we didn't believe her for a second, did we, Eugenie?" "Nope." Eugenie snorted. "It was pretty clear Inskip was lying. But we'll let the authorities deal with her. Right now our job is to get out of here." The dust bunnies chortled and took off through the doorway. "I guess they figured their work here was done," Charlotte said. "Ours isn't," Eugenie said. "You take Molly. I'll handle security." "Right." Charlotte stuffed the notebook into her pack. Flamer in one hand, she extended the other hand to Molly. "Ready to leave?" "Yes, please," Molly said. When Charlotte's fingers closed around her small hand, she knew everything was going to be all right. Eugenie went out into the hall, checked both ways, and then beckoned. "All clear," she announced. Molly was so happy to be out of the green chamber she almost cried again. But she managed to avoid embarrassing herself in front of the brave team from Griffin Investigations. Eugenie led the way. When they reached an intersection, she motioned Charlotte and Molly to wait. She moved out into the intersection. "Well, shit," she said. Molly started to say that Ms. Inskip did not approve of the word shit, but there was not time, because Eugenie was diving back into the corridor where Charlotte and Molly waited. A bolt of fire flashed in the intersection. Thanks to two seasons of Jake Carlisle, Underworld Explorer, Molly knew that she had just seen a blast from a flamer. "How many?" Charlotte asked. "I only saw one. Not a pro. Bad beard. Bad hair. Bad glasses. He's wearing a white lab coat." "That fits with the lab stuff we just saw," Charlotte said. "He may have security working with him." "I don't think so. Pros would have done a better job of guarding the kid." An outraged male voice thundered in the other hallway. "You can't take the child. She is a subject in a very important research project. She will be returned to the school unharmed when I have completed the exam." "This case just keeps getting weirder and weirder," Charlotte said. "The situation seems pretty straightforward to me." Eugenie crouched at the entrance to the intersection and raised her voice. "You're guilty of kidnapping. There are witnesses. I'm making a citizen's arrest." Excerpted from People in Glass Houses by Jayne Castle All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.