Marianne’s words made Faira blink and turn slightly toward the woman, her brows furrowed. [i]What’s [u]that[/u] supposed to mean?[/i]
	But she daren’t ask. She doubted she would get a straight, simple answer, anyway. Nothing about that wretched place had been simple so far, so why would it start now?
	The girl looked to Rosaline as she gave the same reassurance, only without the riddle. Faira nodded at the living doll, before redirecting her attention to the boy, whom she had all but forgotten about. Just in case, she moved the sword slightly in front of her, ready to defend both herself and Rosaline as well as she could while fighting off the fatigue aching in every muscle.
	She examined Walter for a moment. He looked normal enough--at least in comparison to the rest of their ever-growing ragtag group. Even so, she remained on edge, waiting for a second head to sprout from his shoulder, for him to start breathing acid, or any other of the innumerable possibilities of what about him could have caught the Collector’s attention.
	“I’m Faira,” she answered slowly, her soft voice just managing to echo up the stairs.

[center]*	*	*[/center]
	“Food!” Soren shouted in an off-key sing-song voice as he emerged into the kitchen. “Glorious food!” He went to the nearest of the cabinets lining the walls and pulled it open. A hungry look glistened in his heterochromatic eyes. 
	Nikolai continued Soren’s tune in a hum that kept the notes far better as he went to another cabinet on the other side of an island in the center of the room.
	“How about a peanut butter and ravioli sandwich?” Soren pulled a can of raviolis and a jar of peanut butter from the cabinet and tossed them over his shoulder. “With a layer of cheese and ketchup, if there is any.”
	The labels on the containers fluttered to the side, forming wings that did little to lessen their fall to the island. They clattered against the tabletop. Their wings folded sluggishly as Soren started piling other canned and boxed foods in his arms, and Nikolai went to rummage through a fridge.
	Nikolai tossed a pack of cheese onto the island.
	“See if there’re any strawberries and whipped cream while you’re over there, would you?” Soren glanced over his shoulder at his twin. “I’d kill for a strawberry shortcake right about now.”