Someone was humming. Although the tune seemed familiar, Miriam didn't know the song. She was in her bed. No, not her bed. Not her room. This bed only looked like her bed, and was facing the wall. She was lying on the blanket. The pain in her head, her lip and her feet let her know she wasn't dreaming.

Slowly, careful not to get the attention of whoever was humming, she glanced downward. She had to try very hard not to sigh or sob with relief. She was still wearing all her clothes, except for her shoes.

She waited, facing the wall and listening for what felt like a very long time. Whoever was humming had come to the end of their tune and started on another. Then Miriam turned, and glared.

The man who had caught her was there. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against her dresser. If he had seen her turn, he didn't show it. He kept humming as he watched the other girl. The girl with Miriam's face.

Miriam started watching her too. She was being very odd, moving around the room, ensuring that she touched everything. Her touch was light, as though afraid of breaking anything. She used only the very tips of her fingers. Occasionally she would close her eyes when she touched something and stop for a moment. Then she would move onto the next item. The man sat watching and humming songs Miriam almost knew.

Minus the small cut now on Miriam's lip, this girl was her double. However, there was a difference. This girl couldn't easily be mistaken with Miriam if you knew her. It was the way she moved, slow and with purpose. Miriam was sure she had never moved with such in-deliberate grace.

This unsettling girl only saw what she was looking at. The way she almost smiled. It reminded Miriam of a woman she had seen looking at her mother's paintings. It reminded her of the way her mother looked at old churches.

This girl, whoever she was, was looking at the things in the room the same revering way. She looked at a packet of tissues with respect and awe. Miriam turned away from her, unable to watch her any longer, and looked at the man. He was looking at her. His head was still turned towards the other girl but his eyes fixed on Miriam. She didn't know how long he had been doing that for. He was smiling without showing any teeth. Miriam's stomach turned into a large knot. He said nothing.

He out-lasted her. "What?"

His smile got bigger, showing his teeth.

"Hi," he said.

Miriam was itching to hit him.

"What do you what?"

She was trying to keep the snarl and the fear out of her voice and wasn't sure that it was working.

"A name would be nice," he said.

"You don't know my name?" she asked, looking pointedly at her double. He shook his head.

"Mine's Ichabod. And, as far as I know, that one doesn't have a name. I just call her gorgeous. She doesn't talk."

"Well, ponytail, you should have done your research." she said snidely. "The big house isn't even ours. We haven't any money."

"Money? That's not why you're here, doll," he said.

A cold feeling spread over her face. She knew that she had gone pale, but tried not to let the fear show. She clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking. Her knuckles went white but it worked. Slightly. It was enough to settle her.

"So do I get a name?" he asked.

"I'll kill you if I get half a chance." She never thought about hurting someone before, but she meant it.

"Your name?"

She glared at him, too mad to cry and glad of it.

"It's just me and my mom."

He laughed, which made the rage in the centre of her boil.

"So tiny and yet so fierce," he said, in response to her expression. "Oh stop. Come on. Don't look at me like that, doll."

Miriam was small, but she didn't like him pointing it out. Things were bad enough without him insulting her. She cursed her short stature. If she was bigger she might have been able to push passed him earlier.

The double had decided that she had finished whatever she was doing. She came over and stood next to the man, but she did not touch him. She had ignored them while she did her weird touchy thing. Now that she was done, all her attention reverted back to Miriam. She looked at her as though confused.

"I suppose I should tell you who I am first, then. It's only polite. So, again, my name's Ichabod. I'm... let's say I'm a kind of traveller and, mostly, I try to leave things as I find them. Despite this, I have managed to...well...collect some things on the way."

"Am I one of those 'things' you collect?"

"I wonder." The smile faded a little.

He got up and walked to the window. The window seemed to look onto her street, but it was like a picture. The girl followed him. She stood next to him without touching him again. He reached out and gently rubbed her chin with his thumb.

"Hey gorgeous," he said, with a kindness and gentleness that surprised Miriam. Truth be told, he was the only gorgeous person in the room.

He was older than Miriam, at least the same age as her mother. His hair was long, dark and untidy. He had sharp, but not cruel, features and luminous eyes. There were almost as bright as the several glow sticks braided together around his wrist.

More glow rods tied back his long hair. He had some stubble, but not much. He wore a black tee-shirt and worn jeans with heavy boots made for walking. He was the most attractive person Miriam had seen this side of a television screen.

He didn't need to kidnap girls to have them.

When he caught her looking at him, she thought of something to say.

"Who is she?" she asked, indicating the girl.

"I told you. She doesn't talk. She might soon, though. I'm not sure what will happen now. The whole thing is a first as far as I know. She was in an awful hurry to meet you," he told her, coming to sit at the end of the bed. Miriam backed away from him.

"So this was her idea?" Miriam asked. He chuckled.

"Not exactly." The admittance came with another smile, showing his even, white teeth. There was a hidden laugh in that smile.

"What's so funny?"

"You are, doll! You are! Why haven't you asked me about how we got you here? About where we actually are? About the desert that happened to appear outside? You haven't really even asked about the girl who happens to look exactly like you in every way! All you have asked me are the things you should already know!"

"What should I know? Why should I know her? You? WHO ARE YOU?"

"Don't yell." The tone was sharp. Miriam suspected it was because the girl startled. "And you don't know me. How would you? How could you? But you do know her. That's why you tried to run. By the way, that wasn't very nice of you. Gorgeous there was very worried about you."

Miriam didn't ask. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She looked at the girl, who smiled a wide, becoming smile that didn't belong to an adult. It was too strange seeing her face staring happily at her.

Miriam looked away, around the room. The window was still just a picture. The posters were reversed, as was the written titles on her books. She noticed the empty space on the wall. Then she looked at the mirror.

She could see her real room through it. There, everything was where it should be. There was no man in that room, nor was there an impostor Miriam. The only thing that was wrong with it was that she wasn't in it either. Her real room was empty.

"We're in the mirror," she said, not really believing it as she did. Ichabod, who had been watching her, clapped his hands together at once in triumph.

"There we go!"

"But...no....wait...why?"

"Why?" he repeated, impressed, "Not how? That's interesting. Very interesting. You're finally beginning to remind me of her."

"Her?" Miriam looked again at the silent double, for a moment.

"What? No, not her. Never mind. We've got much to do."

He studied her for a few moments before continuing. Uncomfortable under his intense stare, she shifted so her feet hung off the bed and touched the floor.

"The reason you're here is...how do I put this? Well. Look- it's like this. It's like water."

"Water?" Miriam asked, completely confused.

"Water," he confirmed, "You need it to drown. And live."

"You want me to drown someone?"

"Oh no," he said happily, "I want you to drown everyone. It's the only way to save them."

Miriam stared at him. The girl seemed to sense that Miriam was being troubled by what Ichabod was saying. She lightly touched her hand. Miriam pulled away as fast as she could.

The girl made a small choking noise, the first noise she had made. She looked very hurt and confused. Miriam's face went a little bit pink with anger at the tiny bit of shame that crept up on her.

"You shouldn't do that." He seemed genuinely upset. "You should be thanking her. Most of them are very, very protective of their nests. She's let us in. She'll be leaving with us. That's not easy for her to do. Be nicer, okay?"

"Nest? Like a bird?" Miriam asked, ignoring everything else he said.

He sighed and the girl sat on the bed between them, and he looked at her sadly. She didn't seem to mind, and smiled because someone was looking at her.

"More like a fish," he admitted. The girl's smile turned into a quick glare. Miriam wondered for a moment if she was going to hit him. That could be her chance. But the girl just glared. "No offence, gorgeous."

Miriam had looked at the mirror while he spoke. Then she saw it. The blue stone she had seen earlier was lying on the floor before the mirror. It was glowing and vibrating in a pulse. Like it was trying to catch her attention.