Kate lay on her bed, not really listening to Emily’s tirade. She was staring up at the canopy, trying to puzzle through to the truth of last night. It did seem very much like a dream, like the nightmares she had been having. Maybe she had exaggerated. Maybe she had been half asleep and hadn’t really seen enormous cats or children with beards. Maybe she hadn’t really seen that strange caricature of a face. Facts and falsehoods. Weak nerves. She closed her eyes, terribly tired.

“Come look at this.” Emily’s voice rang out loudly, blaring like a bugle call through Kate’s foggy brain.

“Oh, Em, what?” she begged. She opened her eyes and turned toward the dressing table. Nothing. Sitting up grudgingly, she found her sister standing by the window, staring out at the rainy trees beyond.

“Now they can’t say I’m a liar!” Emily declared triumphantly. “This is great! Shall I call Aunt Prim?”

Level with the window but a dozen feet away, a cat crouched disconsolately on a dripping tree limb. It turned its golden eyes toward them, ears flat against its head, and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. It was very wet, very unhappy, and very, very large. It was the big black cat from the bonfire.

“Poor Seylin! He’s so miserable,” Emily said sympathetically. “Kate, don’t you think we could call him down and bring him inside?”

“No!” yelped Kate more forcefully than she had meant to. “No, Em. We have to think this through. If that man who brought us home last night is a ghost, then his friends can’t be much better, can they?”

“But I petted Seylin!” Emily protested. “He’s perfectly solid and not in the least terrifying. And he’s out in the rain. You can see how much he hates it.”

Kate went to the window and pulled back the lace to get a better look. The huge cat stared at her steadily.