I knew there was a reason to get up.The reasons were distant. Foggy, like breathing on a screen.Taste of ash.My tongue darted along my lips and my eye...ids, at last, deigned to open.I was sprawled on a bed of red and dark blacks. Hanging curtains surrounded it, but they were drawn back and pinned up with gold and obsidian pins and hooks. The faint tinkle of chains came to my ears – echoing from down the corridor – but the room itself was all stone. Not smoothed, no. It was bits of stone, stacked. I spoke firmly, and there was a silence on the other end of the phone.I continued. "Today is Monday. We want you and your husband to sign into the Forest motel" - the motel is about ten miles from us - "on Friday evening, and we will be in touch with you to explain what to do next." I gave her the address of the motel. At the end "Do you understand?"The voice at the other end of the line was very quiet. "Yes."I spoke more softly. "Mrs Belant, Lindsay is desperate to see you again. She loves you. More

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