I’d seen her before, in my dreams. I’d been her in an earlier vision of Gwrach y Rhibyn. Seeing her here, though, made the ground seem to shift under my feet.

“I have a story,” she said. “Do you want to hear it?”

“I want to find Gabriel.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Gwynn is fine.”

“No, Gabriel.”

“I said he’s fine. You need to hear my story. It’s important.”

My heart pounded faster. It’s a trap. She’s stalling. Where is he?

As soon as I thought that, the distant baying of hounds sounded and my breath caught.

“Do you hear that?” I asked.

She smiled. “The hounds. The Hunt. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“No, it’s—”

The world flickered and suddenly I was in the night forest, and I heard the hounds and felt the ground vibrating under the horses’ hooves, and it was wonderful. Like the night in the forest with Ricky, when we’d heard them.

Then the scene evaporated, and I was back in the city, dread coursing through me, my face heating now as I started to sweat.

“Back and forth,” the girl said as she fingered her stones. “Black and white. This and that. Night and day. Hunt and fae. So it will always be.”

“What will always be?”

“Us,” she said.

She put out her hand, with just two stones, one black and one white. Then she made a fist. When she opened her hand, there was only one stone, black and white swirling through it.

“There’s no escape,” she said. “Only balance.”

The hounds bayed again, closer, and I stiffened, my heart hammering now.

“They won’t hurt you,” she said.

“It’s Gabriel I’m worried about.”

“They won’t hurt you,” she repeated.

I started down the lane.

“You really should hear my story,” she called after me.

“I need to find him.”

She sighed, like a gust of wind, and I swear I felt it rush past. Then she was beside me.

“This way,” she said.

She headed to the side alley.

“Wait,” she said.

A horse neighed. Its scent wafted past on the breeze and sweat dribbled down my cheek as I strained to catch some sign of Gabriel.

“Wait,” she said. “He will . . .”

She trailed off, and when I looked, she was gone.

“Olivia?” Gabriel called.

“See?” the little girl’s voice whispered in my ear. “I said they wouldn’t hurt you.”

Gabriel stepped into the intersection of the alley. Relief flickered over his face, quickly swallowed by annoyance.

“I asked you to stay where you were.”

My mouth was dry and my heart seemed to short out, as if unable to find a proper rhythm after pounding for so long. “I did,” I said. “You . . . you took off.”

“Took off?” The annoyance crackled as he came toward me. “I found a dead end, turned around, and you were gone and—”

He stopped short and stared at me. I took a step toward him. My knees wobbled. He grabbed me just as I regained my balance.

“I’m okay,” I said.

“No, you’re burning up.” His hand shot to my forehead, smacking it hard enough to make me wince. “The fever is back.”

I pushed his hand away. “I’m fine, just . . .” I took a step and my knees wobbled again. “A little weak.”

He tried to put his arm around me, hand braced under my armpit. That was awkward, and not just because of the height difference. Gabriel isn’t accustomed to supporting others, physically or otherwise. I took his elbow instead.

“So what happened when you went around the corner?” I asked.

“I didn’t go around it. I merely glanced around it. When I turned back, you were gone. Then I went looking for you.”

“Huh. Well, my experience was a little stranger,” I said, and then explained.

—

I don’t keep anything from Gabriel, no matter how weird it gets. And no matter how weird it gets, he never so much as quirks an eyebrow. This time we’d both experienced some perception or reality shift, and I don’t know if it merely separated us long enough for us to wander our separate ways or if I hadn’t been here at all. Not in this world or this plane.

Last week I’d been inside the empty Cainsville house that originally belonged to my great-great-grandmother. I’d stepped into an inlaid triskelion of an owl that had triggered a vision of the girl and the bean nighe. To have that same thing happen on a city street was disconcerting to say the least.

“I blame the Cwn Annwn,” Gabriel said. “They were close enough to cause it.”

He steered me into a dodgy corner store and bought me a Dr Pepper and a bag of ice.

“I’ll take the pop,” I said. “But I don’t really need the—”

“Humor me.”

We returned to the car, and I put the ice bag against my forehead, which seemed to be what he expected.

We sat in the parking lot for a while, so I could rest. Gabriel checked his messages and so did I. The curse of modern communications—spend a couple of hours separated from your cell and you’ll spend another twenty minutes catching up.

I went to my texts first. Gabriel said, “Ricky?”

My smile must have given it away. “He’s coming home early. Which means you won’t have to babysit me tonight.”