No monsters. Blinded again, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"No monsters," the Hierophant rasps from the shadows, "No monsters this time."

With a groan he covered his ears and clamped his lids shut. Leave me alone. You're not real. He tried to push the visions away. Leave me alone!

Lorelei kneels before the hearth, "Hey the fireplace is full of old clothes. We've got kindling! Go find some wood, smash a table or something."

Moments like these where the worst, when the premonitions were coming one after the other without any order or context. Futures, histories and possibilities swam through his mind. Lost friends and impending adversaries clamored for attention, leaving him so addled that sometimes he could not even remember where he was, when he was, who he was.

"Hey! The fireplace is full of old clothes! We've got kindling!"

He rallied at the sound of her voice. Lorelei. She was his focus, his anchor. I've always loved her. I've loved her since I first met her-longer even.

"Go find some wood, smash a table or something."

The sound of her murmuring helped him to push the last of the visions away. He slowly sat up. Lorelei was crouched in front of the fireplace, chanting and gesturing. There was a soft whoosh followed by a sputtering crackle. Flickering light peeled back the shadows revealing a wide room cluttered with decaying furniture and walls caked with lichen and grime. The fireplace was a wide imposing structure of streaked marble. Lorelei warmed her hands before the struggling flames. "Hurry up with that wood babe."

With a groan Jason got to his feet and set to work smashing the legs off a nearby chair. If someone-or something-were living here, this would surely rouse them. When the Windsor chair had been reduced to kindling he brought it over to Lorelei. She had slipped out of her jacket and was now wearing only a pale tank top that had gone clingy with rain. There was a large tattoo of a frog on her left bicep.

"Staring problems?" she pulled the boards from his hands and used them to feed the fire. It snapped hungrily at the wood.

He sat down beside her, "That was probably a valuable antique."

She smiled at him, her candy-green eyes flashing with mischief, "Takes one to know one."

They laughed a little. "Are we friends again?"

"More than friends," she pulled him down beside her and kissed him just below the ear.

"This is nice."

"You think so?" she took his hand and traced her fingers around the cruel-looking scar on the back of his left hand. "This is what happened the last time we were snuggled before a roaring fire."

"Ah, that."

"Yeah that."

"Well," he said desperately changing the topic, "once we're warmed up we can-"

"No."

"No? But there could be anything-"

"That's why we are going to stay right here until sunup. No wandering around, no getting separated."

"But-"

"And if we sleep we do it in shifts."

"Why?"

"Think about it." She waved a hand at their surroundings, "A thunderstorm. A creepy old house in the middle of nowhere. All we need is a van and a talking dog and we're all set."

"I didn't expect any of this Lorelei, I just wanted to speak to his widow, ask a few questions. Have some tea. Maybe borrow a book." Tentatively he put his arm around her, "The episode last night got me wondering. I didn't mean for us to get stranded. I'm sorry."

"That's all right."

"I love you."

She shivered and let him draw her in closer, "Let's not talk for a while. Starting the fire took the last of my energy-"

"I told you-"

Lightning flashed, the howling of the wind grew louder "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You take first watch for an hour or two."

Jason kissed her forehead and then settled in to listen the sound of her breathing. She was asleep in a matter of minutes. There was a picture of Sandor Perth above the fireplace, an oil painting of exquisite workmanship. Someone had gouged out the eyes and slashed at the mouth. He stared at it for a long while, wondering.

-shouting down the voice of caution-

Again and again there was a wet smacking sound followed by a dull grinding. Lorelei stirred and glared at Magwier's sleeping form. Damn but that man could snore. They were lying curled around each other; the fire dwindled to smoldering coals. The storm had passed but it was still night.

So much for being on watch duty. She stifled a yawn, I wonder if I should yell at him now or go to the bathroom and then yell at him?

As always Magwier was scowling in his sleep, that expression always disturbed Lorelei. People were supposed to look peaceful when they were sleeping. She slithered from his arms. Let him rest, I'll bust his balls later. Now where are the facilities in this rathole?

The bathroom was a right hand turn and seven doors away. It was roughly the size of her dorm room. The floor was peppered with slivers from the shattered full-length mirror and the sink was full of doll heads. That elicited a double take from Lorelei. She relived herself quickly, taking care not to let her posterior actually touch the rancid-looking toilet, and got the Hell out of there.

Doll heads in the sink. Clothes in the fireplace. She mused as she made her way back, What the Hell went on here? Lorelei wondered if perhaps one of Sandor Perth's children or his wife had been abandoned here. She wondered if they had slowly gone mad alone here in this creepy old house.

Ugh. How nauseatingly gothic. Now it was time to wake Magwier and give him the yelling at he so richly deserved for falling asleep on guard duty. Not enough of a reprimand to hurt his feelings, just enough to shame him into a few weeks worth of frozen custard and cunnilingus.

A thick sloshing sound made her pause in mid-step. Somehow it sounded both very far away and very close. It seemed to be coming from the wide chamber to her left-the library. Lorelei cast a glance back to Magwier and the dwindling fire.

Don't you dare! said the voice of caution. "No wandering around, no getting separated." Remember that?

I'm just looking, I'm not even twenty feet away from him. Lorelei rarely listened to the voice of caution, it sounded too much like her mother.

You hate it when he does this. 

Well, when he does it he gets in trouble. 

I can handle this.

Like you handled things at the abandoned brewery?

That did it! She turned on her heel and strode into the library.

The library, like much of the house, was a study in the expected. Sagging wooden shelves choked with antiquated-looking books-check. Comfortable looking, high-backed leather chairs-check. Various statues and collectibles arranged around the room, each in its own glass display case-check. Even the brass candelabrums set into the wall where exactly as she imagined them.

But upon closer examination the stereotypes started to come apart. The candelabrums were cleverly disguised electric lights. The treasures under glass where all defaced-the busts of famous mystics were painted like clowns, the ancient parchments where crinkled and smeared. Cartoonish faces had been carved into the backs of the leather chairs and the books where in no kind of order. Lorelei scanned the shelves to find diaries shelved next to fictions, physics treatises shelved next to volumes of erotica. The sloshing sound was louder here. There was a volume of the collected works of Shakespearean on the floor. Lorelei picked it up. The book automatically fell open to Hamlet, Act four, Scene three.