Strangely, Sean passed up a number of out of print classics I suggested for him. I hoped his passionate reading hadn’t waned.

“Do you need time to prepare for your panel?” he asked as we wound our way out of the dealers’ room.

“Not really. I’ve presented workshops on the topic before. I have good co-panelists. We’ll wing it.”

“But isn’t that unprofessional?”

“That’s the physician in you talking. This isn’t a major research presentation. Though Gollum will come prepared with reference books, illustrations, and possibly a power point presentation. A con is casual and unrehearsed. It’s more about spontaneous fun than serious education. Lighten up, Sean.” And let me think about Sophia.

“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “Let’s peek in on the girls. We want to make sure they are safe.”

“The girls are safe. And having fun.” A little bubble of mirth behind my heart told me that. “But I’d like to make sure I know where the gaming rooms are and who they are with.”

Teenagers faced human predators as well as demons.

My link led me unerringly to the three connected rooms at the end of the conference wing. E.T., her new friend, Adam, and another girl slightly younger occupied stools in front of a computer terminal. Each of the kids had a game keyboard in front of them. Gone were the simple joysticks of my youth. Now they needed a full array of high-tech remotes.

Phonetia was a little more difficult to locate in the midst of an intense board game filled with multi-sided dice and arcane figures. With her head bent in concentration, she blended in with all the others.

How could she figure out complex dice combinations in moments but still be puzzled over simple numerals and addition problems?

Funny, I’d never noticed the green streaks in her hair brought out by the fluorescent lights. Or maybe her intense concentration thinned the boundaries between her human body and her native guise.

Something to remember. E.T seemed to have embraced her humanity a lot more readily than her older sister.

I wondered if Phonetia needed to maintain a bit of dark elf in her makeup to justify to herself the sexual abuse she’d endured. Elves didn’t consider it wrong. Humans did. E.T. hadn’t been sexually abused by the Nörglein or his tattooed minions. Yet. She approached puberty rapidly. I’d gotten her out just in time.

“Okay, time to check in to the Green Room to see if my other two panelists are there before going to the programming rooms.” I dragged Sean away from a fascinated study of the gaming process.

Should I leave him there?

“I find this counterculture amazing,” he said, holding my hand as we trekked back the way we had come. “To think I never knew it existed right under my nose.”

“A lot like the Kajiri demon culture. It’s out there in the least expected places, alive and thriving, though very few even believe it could exist and turn a blank eye when they do see it.”

As we passed the garden café I noticed a familiar figure engaging Lady Lucia in conversation. Squishy, or Pat, the psych nurse. And beside them, her elegantly frail companion played peek-a-boo with Sophia.

“Um, maybe we should just go straight to the programming room. The other panelists will find us.”

“What’s wrong, Tess?”

Sean looked suddenly alert, scanning the knots of people for signs of trouble.

“Someone I don’t want to talk to just yet.”

“You sure?” He looked at me with concern and affection.

“It’s okay. A personal difference of opinion that has nothing to do with my problems with the tree boys or their father.”

“Report,” I demand of the parrot.

“Awk, all quiet. All quiet. Only humans. Two, tall enough to perch on. Smell like humans.”

“Gotcha.” I spot the pair wearing stilts. “Keep your beak looking for anyone that smells like a plant.”

“Awk, lady left got roses on her skin.”

I fly over to the wide female swathed in about ten yards of Gypsy red and purple with bells and beads and bangles all over her hips and head. Nothing weird in a demon way about her. Just con member normal weird. She’s got a perfume that fills the air with the scent of roses in a ten-meter aura.

More than one sensitive nose explodes in cascades of sneezes as she passes.

Mine too. I’m surprised the parrot hasn’t developed sinusitis.

Time to check in with the black pug wearing the lovely harness accessory. She wiggles her entire body in ripples of skin from tail to squashed nose. I wonder if she can smell the artificial roses through her wheezes and snorts.

“Report!” I bark at her.

She yips and wiggles some more.

“No one I want to widdle on,” she sighs. “But I could use a walk on that nice patch of grass around the arena. My leash won’t stretch that far and my person is too interested in flirting with the Klingon showing too much cleavage to notice my needs.”

“No problem, friend.” While her person, a slender man wearing a shapeless and sagging stretch shirt that’s supposed to look like a TV spaceman’s uniform, has his eyes superglued to the alien’s boobs, I untangle the hot pink leash from his belt clip. It’s barely looped in a slip knot. The stupid dog stops tugging at the first point of resistance. She doesn’t realize that a bit of a yank would release it.

It takes me a bit of manipulation to come into this dimension enough to wiggle the knot. Then I slap the dog’s wrinkled butt. She dashes toward the grass and shrubs in their redwood tubs.

With an audible sigh of relief she squats right beside a spindly tree in a redwood tub. It’s trying to imitate a Norfolk Pine but looks a lot like a grand fir sapling.

A distinctly human foot extrudes from the trunk and kicks the dog away. She yips and scoots back to her person, tail between her legs. As much as a pug with a cropped tail can drop her appendage. Her person greets her with an admonition for obedience.

The dumb dog cowers against his leg, accepting his reprimand gladly.

I flit up to Tess’ shoulder and whisper in her ear.

She whirls to return to the gaming rooms.

“Not yet, babe, let them call you.”

“That may be too late!”

“Let them learn to trust you a bit. Hey, where’s the boyfriend?”

“Sean went back to look at books. The folklore panel doesn’t really interest him.”

Huh? I understand his fascination with books, the way he read through Tess’ list so quickly. But not interested in folklore? Half of what SF/F is about is folklore.

“Let me circle about and see what’s up.” I hadn’t told her that for a while I had to keep her in sight.

Now it seems I can fly into dark rooms and down halls. I peek in on the girls. They are still obsessed with their games. Not a plant in sight.

Back in the dealers’ room I find the book dealer wrapping up a stack of books for Squishy and her lady. No sign of the good doctor.

I sniff for his Winter Pine aftershave and find him in the hospitality suite checking out the box of donuts with a large can of cola in his hand.

Double huh. I did not expect this.

“Why should I even bother sitting on the panel?” I slumped against the doorjamb, arms crossed. I had to bite my cheeks to suppress the wave of joy that swamped me.

I kept trying to tell myself I had moved on with Sean. I wanted a real life, not the depressed pining I’d endured for a year and a half.

Just thinking about Gollum made my heart flip. The sight of him and his inevitable laptop took my breath away.

He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose and peered at me across the room, a gentle smile softened the worry lines radiating out from his eyes and mouth.

I needed to smooth those lines away.

Before I could act on my impulse a half dozen people pressed behind me, eager to weigh in with their own opinions on the discussion.

I flowed forward with the surge, letting their momentum carry me toward the long table at the front of the room. To mask my emotions, I fussed with pouring myself a glass of ice water from the carafe, setting up my table tent and a small display of book covers and bookmarks.

We started a little late. The sparse audience remained sparse—it was early on the first day of the con.

“Star Wars is a retelling of the Arthurian legends in a milieu that speaks to modern audiences,” I said about twenty minutes later in the midst of a discussion on the value of ancient legends to a diverse and multicultural society.

“No way!” Gollum protested. “Light Sabers are Samurai Swords. Look at the two-handed fighting stance . . .”

“The story is about more than your fascination with swords,” I returned. “We have to look at the story and the moral lessons imparted.”

A fluster of movement in the back of the room captured my attention. A bigger audience maybe?

Squishy and her lady took seats in the back row. They held hands and leaned their heads close. A sense of intimacy isolated them from the rest of the room.

Gollum froze, mouth half open, his retort swallowed.

I had no more reason to wonder if Squishy’s lady was Julia. I knew.

I opened the discussion to the audience, letting Gollum retreat into unnatural silence, power point presentation forgotten.