Somewhat surprisingly, Dema found nothing at all in the DEA files about Chaos, or Roger either for that matter. She returned to her routine deskwork for the rest of the afternoon, then headed back to the clinic to join up with Kore and Roger.

But when she arrived she found they had already left. The receptionist had a note of apology from Kore for her, but all it said was that Roger decided they had to leave early.

Dema got a cold feeling inside, a warning from her shaman nature that this was trouble. The Lamia in her was stirring.

Not knowing where the meeting place was, Dema opened her shaman awareness to her intimate link with Kore. It felt like she was somewhere in the older part of the city, so Dema drove to where the feeling was strong and parked the Jeep.

But something was wrong. Her link with Kore was growing fuzzy. Dema recognized the sensation from the time her mother had been abducted. Kore had been drugged.

Desperately hanging onto the link, Dema walked the streets, feeling for a trace of Kore's passing. Kore had mentioned a stone basement, so Dema looked for the older buildings.

Finally, as she was passing a narrow alley, Dema's intuition told her that Kore had gone that way. Near the end of the alley she found a door. It was locked, but she was sure Kore had gone through it.

Dema focused her awareness on the lock mechanism, and willed its reality into the open position. Quantum superposition to the rescue once again! She smiled to herself as she pulled the door open and passed through it. These little alternate possibility glamours came in handy.

Inside she descended a dark, dank staircase, level by level until she reached the lowest floor. The sense of Kore having passed this way not long before continued, but Dema was aware of more presences than hers. Roger had been here, and many others. She followed the yellow glow of gaslights to a chamber with a closed door.

She pulled it open quietly to find a black-robed attendant standing with his back to it. He turned to her with a scowl, but Dema, turning up the power of her shaman presence, looked in his eyes and said, "What makes you think I don't belong here?" His scowl shifted to a look of confusion, and he let her pass.

Inside, Dema found a host of other black-robed figures, and heard a low, pleasant voice that carried easily to where she stood. The speaker was clearly the woman Chaos, clad entirely in red. She stood on a raised platform at the end of the chamber, behind a stone table. To one side sat Roger, his head lolling in a drugged stupor. Lying on the table was Kore.

"My people, we are about to enact one of the most sacred rites of shamanism," Chaos said. "The ritual sacrifice of this maiden and her consort, the release of their spirits to follow the path of Chaos into the underworld. The removal of their hearts as an offering to Chaos will evoke the goddess herself in the most powerful way possible, and will bring us her promise of renewal and eternal life. Let us begin."