"So, Kristin, you think we're all dead," Chay said. "Is that it?"

"As theories go, it fits," Jesse said. "I think most of us remember the bus falling into the water now."

"Except it doesn't tell us who the mysterious woman was, or what kind of test we're facing," Amber pointed out.

"Maybe we should go down to the beach and look for our corpses," Steve suggested.

"I say we go upstairs and look around. Check out the rest of the house," Chay said.

"There's a second floor?" Dave asked. "Where are the stairs?"

"I don't know," Chay admitted. "But we could see from the outside that there has to be."

"I have an idea," K.J. said. "I think I saw a service door for the machinery in the kitchen. It might conceal a staircase."

It turned out she was right. After disconnecting a few wires in a wall panel, she managed to get it open.

The second floor had a completely different architectural style than the first. Horseshoe arches, gold, and silks were in evidence. A domed chamber covered the center of the second floor, its ceiling painted to resemble the stars.

"I don't remember seeing a dome when we were outside," Jesse whispered.

The others nodded their heads. Afraid to speak aloud.

Ahead of them, in the center of the circular room, was a pavilion draped in colorful fabrics. Candles burned along the perimeter. The group drew closer, and they heard the voice of the mysterious woman who'd been with them reciting Jinn's story.

"That is the end of my tale for today, my Lord Shahryr."

The fabrics parted, and the woman with the coin headdress stepped out. A tray was in her hands with the remains of a meal. An empty wine glass, a collection of bones, and a chocolate bar wrapper.

Mouth open in surprise, the woman stared around at the authors. No one spoke for several long moments.

At last, the woman gestured and led the way towards wide doors covered in gold. Everyone followed and emerged onto a moonlit terrace.

"Please," the woman said. "I beg you, do not let my Lord know you are my prisoners here."

"And why shouldn't we?" Steve asked.

The woman looked out across the ocean. Faint howls arose in the distance.

"Great," Dave said. "This place has wolves in addition to all its other charms."

"My name is Scheherazade," the woman said.

A few snorts of derision followed from this comment.

"Throughout my life, and even now in this place, I do what I can to placate my king. Every full moon, when he awakes, I tell him a story. If I have none, he cuts off my head. It isn't pleasant."

"I can imagine," Kristin said. "Where are we?"

The wolves howled again in the distance, their voices mixing with the sound of the crashing surf.

"This world sits between life and death," Scheherazade said.

"So are we dead?" Kristin asked.

"I'm sorry," Scheherazade replied. "But I must have stories to placate my Lord."

"I have one for you," Amber said. "And I pray that you listen to it carefully, for I think it gives all of us hope."