Summoned to Tourney by Mercedes Lackey; Ellen Guon

possible,” Elizabet continued. “Maybe tonight.”
    “There’s something else wrong, isn’t there?” Beth asked.
    Elizabet grimaced, just a little. “Yes, unfortunately. Eric isn’t the only one who’s had problems with nightmares lately. Several of the Wiccans at the conference have had the same problem. Not dreams about earth quakes, but other things. Kat and Lisa had a similar nightmare, about being hunted by some kind of shadow-creature.”
    Eric’s fingers tightened around his coffee mug.
    Beth was quiet for a long moment. “Eric, how soon do you want to do this? We really need to get some rest so we can hit the Embarcadero, or we’ll miss the business lunch crowd.”
    “Okay.” He sat back in his chair. “Tomorrow night.”
    Monday, they were standing in the Embarcadero plaza across from the Italian fast-food place where two dozen gray-wool “suits” were busily chowing down on pizza slices.
    Beth scanned the crowd, and pointed to a corner with some benches next to it. “How ‘bout that one, guys?”
    Kory began unpacking the instruments. Eric just stood there for a moment, looking very tired, before he opened his flute case and began to fit the pieces together. Beth couldn’t blame him for being tired, considering what had been happening lately. She just hoped that Kayla and Elizabet could do something for him. Maybe some caffeine would help. “Guys, I’m in desperate need of coffee. You too, Eric?”
    He nodded blearily.
    “Sparkling water for me,” Kory said, looking up from where he was seated on the bench, rubbing the bodhran to tighten the drumhead. “The
    French brand, please.”
    Elves , she thought. If we’re not careful, Kory’ll be the first yuppie elf in history.
    She headed over to the closest food stand, glancing around at the crowd as she stood in line. A shiny new Mercedes, pale blue and with dark-tinted windows, was parked on the street nearby. A blond man in a blue business suit— the expensive kind , Beth thought—stood with another man, staring down at a map spread out over the hood of the car. He looked up and saw her watching him. A moment later, he walked up to her, smiling shyly.
    “Excuse me, miss?” the man asked. “Could you show me the best way to get to the Japan Center from here? I have a map in my car, but the one-way streets are so confusing…”
    “Sure, not a problem.” She walked to the curb, where the man’s friend was puzzling over a map spread out on the hood of their Mercedes. “Probably the best way is to go straight up to Van Ness, then over to Geary—”
    Something hit her hard, in the small of her back, and she fell into the open car door, landing on the back seat. A split-second later she heard the door slam shut, and the sound of the car’s engine starting. The interior of the car was very dark, and smelled of new leather and strange chemicals. Something cold and metallic pressed against the back of her neck, and she froze, not daring to breathe. Very slowly, she turned to stare down the barrel of a small pistol, only inches from her face.
    The blond man shook the pistol at her like a teacher admonishing a naughty child. “Please, don’t bother screaming. No one will hear you outside the car. Now, if you’ll just sit back and relax; everything will be fine.”
    They’re right, the barrel of a gun looks awfully huge when you’re staring down into it. “If you guys think you’re kidnapping me to get a ransom,” Beth whispered, “you are in for a big surprise, Why are you doing this?”
    “We’re not interested in money,” the blond man said, and Beth felt the car lurch out into traffic. “Please, don’t ask any more questions.” He sat back, the pistol resting in his hands.
    Beth edged away from him, until her back was pressed against the car door, She glanced down at her watch, noting the time. Think like a hostage, Kentraine. Be smart. Figure out everything you can about these bastards. Knowledge is power.
    Power…
    She