I grabbed a half-dozen tissues and plastered them to my nose on my way downstairs, tripping over Sebastian. He bounded to the kitchen counter, wanting his dinner. God forbid the River Styx leaking into the Mississippi should interrupt his culinary routine. The cat food sounded ridiculously loud as it hit the metal bowl. I absentmindedly broke up bits of Friday night’s stolen chicken breast over the food and plopped it on the floor. What would cause water from the Styx to contaminate the river at Pass a Loutre? Did it have anything to do with the mers, or were they victims? And what about the dead wizards? The clock read six p.m. The soft October sun had already crept below the treetops, so Alex and the gang should be headed back. I dug in my pocket for my cell phone and couldn’t find it, so I went to the guest room for the land-line phone. Most people didn’t have them anymore but I got Internet and cable cheaper by buying the package deal. I punched in Alex’s cell number and cursed when the sound of some deep-voiced country singer blasted out of my backpack in the living room.
