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and facade。 As she listened to their music she heard sounds from the thicket on the other side of the lawn。
She glanced back。 There was still sufficient light in the evening sky to see the motion in the blossom…laden branches。 There were several creatures following her； she guessed。
She watched the bushes for half a minute； until the motion died down。 It wasn't unusual for creatures to follow her when she went out walking； but there was something different about this。 Or was it that she was different？ That tonight she was alive as she'd not been alive in many years； her heart quickened by love； and that they sensed a new vulnerability in her？
She didn't like that。 The last thing she wanted was for them to imagine they could intimidate her； or somehow wrest a little power from her。 Love might have made her step a little lighter； but she was still the Queen of Coldheart Canyon； and if they pushed her she would respond with her old severity。
As she watched the thicket； the last of the light went from the sky； and the darkness revealed several bright points of light in the bushes； where the revenants were standing； watching her。 Even after all these years she could still be disfited by a sight like this； by the fact that the dead were around her in such numbers。
Enough； she thought to herself； and turning on her heel hurried towards the stairs that led back up to the house。
As she did so she heard the swish of grass against swiftly running limbs。 They were ing across the lawn in pursuit of her。
She picked up her pace； until she reached the relative safety of the stairs。
Behind her； a soft voice； sounding as though it came from a palate full of pulp and disease； said： 〃Let us in。〃
There was a moment's silence。 Then another said。 〃We just want to e back into the house。〃
〃We won't do any harm。〃 said a third。
〃Please； let us in。。。〃
She'd been wrong about the numbers of revenants assembled here； she slowly realized。 She thought there'd been perhaps ten； but there were two or three times that number out there in the darkness。 Whatever the decayed and corrupted condition of their palates； they all attempted to say the same thing：
〃Let us in。 Let us in。 Let us in。〃
She would have ignored them； once upon a time： turned her back on their pleas and climbed the stairs。 But she was changing。 Katya the heart…breaker…the woman who'd never given a damn for what anybody wanted but herself…was rapidly being a thing of the past。 If she was going to e back with Todd and live here； they couldn't live the idyllic life she had in mind while these hungry souls waited outside。 Even with the five iron icons hammered into the threshold of each of the doors； and in the sills of even the smallest windows； their presence preventing the dead from ever setting foot in the house； the occupants were in a state of siege。 It was no place to have a honeymoon。
She raised her hand to silence their murmuring。
〃Listen to me；〃 she said。
The chorus began to subside。
〃I'm going to be leaving the house for a few hours；〃 Katya said； her voice a little tentative at the beginning； but gaining strength as she proceeded。 〃But when I e back I intend to make some changes。 I don't want you living in misery。 That has to stop。〃
She started to turn away； intending to leave the statement there。 But some of her congregation didn't want to let her go without hearing something more specific in her reply。
〃What changes are you going to make？〃 someone demanded。
〃Is that you； Roman？〃 Katya said； scanning the crowd。
The speaker didn't have time to identify himself。 There were more questions。 Somebody wanted to know why she was leaving； somebody else demanded to know how long they would have to wait。
〃Listen to me； listen to me；〃 she said； quieting the rising hubbub。 〃I understand that you all want to e into the house。 But I don't think you understand the consequences。〃
〃We'll take them； whatever they are；〃 somebody said。 There was a general murmur of agreement to this。
〃If that's what you want；〃 Katya replied； 〃I will consider it。 When I get back…〃
〃What if you don't e back？〃
〃Trust me。 I will。〃
〃Trust you？ Oh please。〃 The mocking voice emerged from a bitter； painted face amongst the crowd。 〃You tricked us all。 Why the hell should we trust you now？〃
〃Theda；〃 Katya said。 〃I don't have the time to explain right now。〃
〃Well you hold on； honey； because we want some answers。 We've had years of waiting to go back into that room…〃
〃Then you can afford to wait a few hours more；〃 Katya replied； and without waiting for Theda Bara to e back with a retort she turned and headed on up the steps to the top of the flight。
There was a moment…just a quarter of a beat； there at the top of the stairs…when she thought she'd misjudged her audience； and they'd e up the stairs after her； their patience finally exhausted。 But they'd stayed below。 Even Theda。 Perhaps somebody had caught hold of her arm； to keep her from doing something stupid。
Katya opened the back door； stepping over the threshold。 Occasionally； in the last several decades； one of the assembly outside had taken it into their heads to test the power of the icons Zeffer had brought back from Romania； and had personally hammered deep into the wood。 The five icons were called； Zeffer had told her； the Iron Word。 It was powerful magic designed to drive off anything that did not belong beside cot or hearth。 Katya had never actually witnessed what happened when one of the phantoms had tested the threshold。 She'd only heard the screams； and seen the looks of terror on the faces of those who'd goaded the victim。 Of the trespasser himself； nothing remained； except a rise in the humidity of the air around the threshold； as though the revenant had been exploded into vapor。 Even these traces lingered for only a moment。 As soon as the air cooled the witnesses retreated from the door； looks of terror still fixed on their faces。
She had no idea how the Iron Word worked。 She only knew that Zeffer had paid a member of Sandru's scattered brotherhood a small fortune to possess the secret； and then another sum to have the icons created in sufficient numbers that every door and window be guarded。 It had been worth the investment： the Iron Word did its job。 Katya felt like her mother； who'd always boasted that she kept a 'clean house'。 Of course Mother Lupescu's definition of moral cleanliness had been purely her own。
You could fuck her twelve…year…old daughter for a small coin； but you could not say Christ when you were shooting your load between her tiny titties without being thrown out of the house。
And in her turn that twelve…year…old had grown up with her own particular rules of domestic cleanliness。 In short： the dead did not cross the threshold。
You had to draw the line somewhere； or all hell would break loose。 On that Mama Lupescu and her daughter would have agreed。
She got herself a cup of milk from the refrigerator to calm her stomach； which always troubled her when； as now； she was unsettled for some reason or another。 Then she went through the house； taking her time passing from one room to another； and as she ca