I grabbed the duster off the chair, dragged it to the floor. I rolled again, in case someone/thing was drawing a bead on my back, hauled out the gun as I did so, and came up into a combat crouch. The thing whatever it was, was advancing on Jocasta, while she fired round after round from her small Colt into its expanse of chest. Rodney, looking even more pale and drawn, was declaiming something in a weird language-something that sounded like, "In hoc signo, vincavi ad munditia"-and a harsh, brittle glow was building around his right hand. Amanda was nowhere in sight.