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The map helped, mostly. The hallways had an eerie sameness, as if they had been built specifically to entrap the unwary. I was starting to get the idea that Dougie's several-greats was a little past eccentric. Stone cold crazy, maybe? And seriously, did he get these benches on wholesale? They're gorgeous, but them popping up everywhere certainly wasn't helping my sense of direction any. The kitchen was...an experience. I had expected to be given small portions and shoved into a dining area. Instead, the cook forced me down at a table near the end of the room, loaded my plates with more food than I think I had body mass, and proceeded to watch me eat. Either she dealt with one too many teenage girls, or she'd had to deal with a stubborn Dougie once too often. if the latter was the case, he owed the poor woman a raise. I returned to one of the more, um, "imagination inducing" sights I'd ever seen. After my brain rejoined me on planet earth, I realized Dougie was whispering the same litany he had the night before, aspects of that poor lost girl. I also noticed something else new. Walker was clenching his fists so hard they shook, his struggles with himself clear. And dougie's hands were turning an alarming shade as he worked with him. aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!! Then walker arched, screaming like his guts were being torn out-- --and dropped like a sack of bricks.

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