"What do you think Mom would say if she found you here?" Amber asked, hoping that would get the strangers in her room to answer some questions.

"She wouldn't believe you," the yellow-lit girl answered, "We can leave right away if you want to call her. But you won't, because you ask questions. And I'm pretty sure you want to get some answers. So you're going to listen to what we've got to say, sooner or later. Right?"

"I guess so. But who says I can't find my own answers? If you're leaving in a hurry because Mom's coming, you won't have time to wipe off fingerprints from whatever you've touched, or avoid walking past where Mr Trelawney's camera can see you, or anything. People who are rushing make mistakes. That's why my dad was always so careless, Mom says."

"We're good at this," the blue woman spoke. She was the second voice from earlier, speaking like a radio announcer might talk in some old movies, when they all had to have the same accent. Amber had heard it called a Mid-Atlantic accent, which she knew was silly because she'd looked on the map, and there was nothing in the middle of the Atlantic. Nowhere people could come from, anyway. "If we have to leave, you won't find anything. I promise you that."

"Oh, you do this a lot, then?"

An embarrassed silence. That might mean that the answer was no, but could just as easily be a yes. After all, nobody wanted to admit to it being their first day on the job, but nobody wanted to admit they made a habit of creeping into girls' bedrooms either.

"So who are you, then?" Amber carried on with her questions, and rearranged her pillows so she could sit up to see them all comfortably while they spoke. "I asked before, but you didn't answer yet."

"You going to listen this time? We're here because we think you might–"

"Nope! I know who I am, thanks. I asked who you are. You give your name before you ask about somebody else, that's just basic manners. And I already said who I am."

"Okay," Mr Green gave an exasperated sigh, "I'm Jack. This is Mel, Alex, and Parsnip."

"Violet!" the yellow girl snapped, "Can't you at least get... Ugh, never mind. I'm Violet, but this jerk keeps on calling me Parsnip. It's an old joke, you'll get sick of it pretty quickly."

"Will you be here long enough for me to get sick of it?"

"If you –"

"Never mind. Back to the first question: who are you? I don't want a list of names, I want to know who you are. First I thought you might be like spies or something, but I don't think the government hires people so young, and they probably know what they're doing. So some company? But I don't know what I might know that would be worth the risk of breaking in. So you're some secret organisation, right? A secret society? I'd guess terrorists, maybe. But that still doesn't tell me much."

"We're not terrorists," the androgynous figure finally spoke. His accent told Amber he was certainly foreign, maybe from somewhere in South Africa, and probably male, though she still couldn't be sure about that.

"Freedom fighters, then. Did you know, that's the same thing? It just depends who you're talking to."

"We're not freedom fighters either," yellow Violet was trying quite hard not to laugh by this point. "Maybe you could think of us as... I'm not sure what the best word is."

"How about starting with the name of your organisation? Or your team, or whatever. What do you put in your diary when you're organising these little visits? Or what does it say on your cheques, if you get paid for this? What's the name on the insurance policy? I bet that tells me more than just four names."

"Call us the Children of Liberty," Jack offered.

"No, that's lame," Violet shook her head, "And why do you get to pick a name? Seriously, I don't want a name with 'children' in, especially when half the people I meet treat me like a kid anyway. We should have something awesome like 'Crusaders', or 'Infinites'."

"I don't see you coming up with any better options. And those both sound like they come out of a comic book, or something. That's more childish than–"

"You never asked us, you just come out with a name and don't even consult your comrades. I would have said something like Brotherhood of Forseti. Then we could have–"

"Everyone asking who Forseti is," the androgynous guy seemed more than a little irritated by that, "Either that or they assume we're Odinists, and that's our credibility straight out of the window. Seriously, if you have to bring religion into it you should go with the majority anyway."

"I like Infinites," Violet repeated.

"Sounds like a comic book," Jack tried the same argument again.

"Probably because it is," the androgynous guy shrugged, "We need a name that hasn't been used before."

"And doesn't make us sound like some kind of superheroes. That's the problem with your credibility again. I could go with Alex's 'Brotherhood', but I don't want some ancient god nobody's heard of."

"Who says we're not superheroes?" Violet added, "I mean, you say that like it's a bad thing. But aren't we, really?"

"You're superheroes?" Amber wasn't sure if she should take that seriously or not. She didn't know if she believed in super powers, but it was pretty clear that these people weren't quite normal. "What kind of powers have you got?"

"Not really," Jack shrugged, "But I can't think of a good word to describe it. Still, as you see we've not decided on a name for our little group yet. I guess you caught us flat-footed, because we're not sure how to introduce ourselves even. But I'm hoping–"

"I suppose superheroes might be a suitable name," the one identified as Alex interrupted, "We're certainly not quite normal. I'm starting to think we should have put more effort into defining how we see ourselves before we try making contact. We can't be arguing at cross purposes here, we need to understand who we are."

"As much as I would like to have a contract, I have to agree," Mel nodded, "We have to have some common image of who and what we are. We should return tomorrow."

Jack nodded, and the coloured lights in the darkness winked out. Amber leapt up from her bed, hand swinging towards the light switch. The sheets tangled around her legs, and it wasn't quite the deft maneuver she'd expected, but still there couldn't have been more than four seconds before the lights came on to reveal an empty room.

Well, as empty as it ever was, at any rate. There were posters on the walls, ornaments on every available surface, trinkets from holidays and gifts from distant relatives, memories and toys and everything else that might seem important. Letters, postcards, posters. An oddly symmetrical stone picked up on the beach sat next to her favourite necklace. Anyone else would say the place was cluttered beyond belief, containing more things than it was possible for a person to count. But Amber knew the location of everything, and only rarely had to search through the piles to find an overdue homework assignment or some specific trinket. Her mom made sure that there were never too many unwashed clothes or plates scattered around, and Amber was sure that the collection of things that meant something to her made it feel like home in a way no amount of posters would.

Right here, right now, everything was right where she'd expected it to be, with one exception. There were no mysterious midnight visitors in the room, no Crusaders or Infinites or Children of Liberty. Amber padded over to the window, and glanced outside. The window was closed, of course, and an unbroken layer of paint over the wooden frames proved that nobody had come in or out that way since the last time they had redecorated. She moved across to check the closets, but there was nobody in there. No space, either, unless someone could shrink down and hide between an impossible volume of clothes that would probably never fit again, but had too many memories attached to throw out.

That just left the door. She moved slowly, hoping that the other doors were closed so that the spear of light wouldn't extend into Mom's room. The last thing she needed now was to get into trouble for being awake unnecessarily, when there wasn't any kind of evidence that her midnight visitors had been there. As the door creaked open, she got a momentary glimpse of the wide-open maw of Nyarlathotep, and then claws that came within a hair's breadth of her nose.

Amber leapt deftly back; Nyarlathotep defending her territory wasn't a rare occurrence around here. Taking extra care, Amber reached out and plucked a rapidly moving ball of teeth and claws from the table beside her bedroom door. There was a moment of confused chaos, and then Amber was tickling Nyarlathotep under the chin, whispering nonsense phrases to calm her down. Eventually, she was successful.

"You didn't see any weird people come past, did you? Lit up in different colours, and arguing about their name? No, I guess you didn't. You'd be hissing like a demon if they'd come past this way, I bet. Or is it only my blood you're interested in? Silly puss."

Nyarlathotep yawned again, and attempted to disembowel one of Amber's wrists, but was easily thwarted. She was barely large enough to span the width of a laptop keyboard (one of her favourite resting places if it was left unguarded) while fully stretched out; she wasn't quite the mighty hunter she sometimes seemed to think. But she'd always attempt to fight whatever extremities were placed within reach before settling down to a few minutes of delighted nuzzles. She'd lose interest sooner or later and wriggle her way out of Amber's arms, ready to start the whole cycle over.

Amber continued to stroke the cat, only half paying attention as she turned the facts over in her mind. She'd seen four people in her room, she was sure of that. And they'd brought their own lights with them, in different colours. Maybe that was significant somehow. Then they hadn't left through the window, they weren't in the closet unless they were small as mice, they hadn't opened the door because she hadn't seen the faint glow of the moon through the landing window (which she half wished she'd thought of before inviting Nyarlathotep to curl up on her bed), and the silly cat didn't seem to smell any trace of unfamiliar people now.

"They're magic, aren't they?" Amber asked Nyarlathotep. She wasn't actually expecting an answer, but saying her thoughts out loud to someone else was an easy way to check if they sounded as crazy as she thought they might. "They've got some kind of powers like teleporting in and out, that's why they didn't disturb you, and they disappeared without opening the door."

Nyarlathotep didn't answer, except to give another yawn and present her head for more petting. But Amber had to conclude that it didn't sound all that crazy. Certainly less crazy than a bunch of superheroes who could walk through walls. No, teleportation magic was the only answer. She'd have to look it up in the school library tomorrow, and see if there was any way to block them from escaping again.

She kept on stroking her unhelpful, furry friend. She was sure it wouldn't last long; sooner or later Nyarlathotep would get bored and be scratching at the door asking for release, and then Amber could reclaim her pillows and the middle of her bed to sleep until morning.