"Hate to break it to you, but roaming graveyards at night with a shovel isn't exactly normal behavior. Unless you're playing the best game of Whack-a-Moll ever during a zombie outbreak."

About that time Delia returned with Cowboy and a new fellow, more casual looking fellow in tow.

"Glad you finally came to that conclusion..." Neal said dryly when the Ghost Wrangler spoke to the group.

Delia rolled her eyes.

"You've been outside already," she replied. "Some other interested parties, however, have not."

"I'm not so worried about whats outside, that can wait until tomorrow. Until then, what are we going to do with the rest of the guests? If we tell them the truth, we'll have a full riot on our hands."

We're not in Ditto Town anymore," Delia had said.

Dan's mind swirled with possibilities. He was one of those who had not been outside, but like his wife, he'd heard the whispers about what it was like out there now. If they had somehow been transported somewhere else entirely, it seemed likely that it had something to do with the earthquake.

But this other man, whose name he hadn't caught, made a good point. "I think the best way to avoid that riot is to get the power back on as soon as we can. Then maybe we can not only figure out where we are, but how to get back home."

Where our little girl is, he added silently.

"Well..." Delia glanced over at Neal. "I haven't been down to check the boxes yet, but...apparently the fuses are gone. So I don't know how likely it would be to actually get it back on. You're welcome to take a look if you would like, though."

"Does anyone have a phone or a subspace radio or something like that? Magic vision crystals? What about telepaths? If we could talk to someone back home, they could send a ship to get us. If we're still in the same universe, that is," Anna suggested.

Subspace radio? Telepaths?

Dan’s practical side boggled at these suggestions, though he was well-read enough to be familiar with such things – purely theoretically, of course. At the moment, however, he was focused on what Delia had said.

“No fuses? That would explain why the power is out. But how would someone remove them, with all these people around? And why? Now I’m more curious than ever.”

"The fuses were not gone, the whole thing was missing. Fuses, wiring, the whole deal." Neal said in response to the other man. "And not removed either, more like they were never there to begin with."

Jeff rolled his eyes.

"Considering the fact that we've been dropped into some sort of dead planet, I doubt there is even a power grid to hook into. Nuclear-Ion reactors don't grow on trees, you know."

"It truly is so cute how you think you know what you're doing," Delia said, turning away and starting to head toward the basement stairs. "Come on, Dan, I'll show you where it is and you can give your professional opinion on it."

She stopped, then stepped toward the mirror in the entry hall, glass crunching under her boots.

"The mirror is gone," she finally said. "It's been replaced."

Delia reached forward and pulled on one of the few remaining shards of mirror that were in the frame.

"It's a map," she finally said. "Or a child's drawing. Or a map. Or a child's drawing of a map. But it's...us. Look at it."

"My Home...." Neal said slowly as he examined the drawing where the mirror used to be. The paper was old, though in very good condition almost as if it had been preserved.

"Well, this isn't creepy in the least."

"You got that right son," said Jeff, ignoring Death's previous comment. The truth was that he only became a cop to help pay for college and nothing he had ever done in life had even come close preparing him for the insanity that was in the job description. Death was right, he was just a normal guy and truly had no idea what was going on.

He just wished that people would stop pointing it out.

"I must say, I've never seen such a terrible piece of artwork," said Cynthia Ridley, coming up behind the three and making them jump. "It does not speak to me at all. And I am something of a connoisseur of paintings and the like, too. It's an awfully dreary piece, what with all of those sad, dead trees. I suppose they're supposed to symbolize the ravages of locust swarms. I would know, since one of them ate my seventh birthday party. I told Mother I didn't want it to be outside. But really, the mirror was much prettier and far more functional," she finished as she smoothed her carefully coiffed hair.

"Well, never mind me," Delia muttered. "Apparently telling the masses will just inflict us with the scourge of art critics, not a riot as previously expected."

Dan forced down a snicker at Delia's reply to Cynthia, who looked as elegant as ever despite the evening's odd events.

He looked at the map but had little to offer. The timing of the mirror breaking seemed suspicious to him, coming after the power outage and earthquake, and at a time when the map could be found. "Who drew this, I wonder? Someone who must call this alternate version of the Mansion home, I guess, since the trees are dead in the picture." No doubt someone might suggest he was stating the obvious, but you never knew what trivial observations might be helpful later on.

He turned back to Delia. Jeff and Neal's remarks regarding this place might be right, but he wanted to do something...anything. "I can't make any claims as to this planet's power grid or fixing the fuse box, but I'd be glad to take a look at it anyway."