Frost had been right. Crossing back through the Veil from the Akrai had put them in the midst of the Latin Quarter of Perinthia again. They had been spread out, so that it took precious seconds for them all to gather again in the ruins of the Greek and Roman city. Strigae perched on the peaks of buildings and shattered rubble, and the black birds began to caw loudly, a shrill cry like children being stabbed. It filled the air. Legends in the Latin Quarter had pulled their shutters quickly or raced to hide in shadows.

But they were only birds.

There would be no retreat for the Hunters. Ordinary legends, they could not slip away through the Veil the way Borderkind did. They could not cross between worlds without a door.

The Strigae hadn’t stood a chance. Dusk had settled over Perinthia. Though Frost and Chorti had been injured, they were not so badly wounded that they could not trouble annoying birds. Frost impaled the nearest Strigae with a spear of ice that jutted from the palm of his hand. The others cried out and their wings beat the air as they tried to flee.

Blue Jay had slain two of them himself. Grin had climbed an old palazzo with three quick bounds and grabbed hold of a Strigae, then snapped its neck with a quick twist. Li burned three of them right out of the air with gouts of flame that spewed from his throat, breathing fire like a dragon. The tiger had broken one in its jaws. Two or three of the Strigae had escaped, but Blue Jay had pursued them for a mile to be sure they would not follow, and as he suspected, they had not even slowed in their flight of terror.

As the evening deepened, the darkness gathering its cloak around Perinthia, Cheval Bayard had slain the sentries at two of the watchtowers on the edge of the city. They had left Perinthia without raising an alarm on the northern end, but by the time the dead sentries were discovered, they would already have circled around and started southwest, away from the city.

As a bird, Blue Jay had flown far above them throughout the journey, circling, watchful for any threat or pursuit. They had given a wide berth to the village of Bromfield. There would be no help from the Lost Ones who lived there, and certainly not from any of the legendary. They could expect little help wherever they went, but Frost and Oliver and Kitsune had stopped in Bromfield on their way to Perinthia and doubtless there would be spies in the village on the watch for Borderkind.

No one could be trusted.

As a trickster, he understood that, but Blue Jay wondered if the others truly did.

Once past Bromfield, the motley collection of Borderkind had traveled briefly on the Truce Road, where the going was far smoother. But as the night deepened and the creatures of darkness roamed across the land, there would be too much risk of an unpleasant encounter. Also, by then, Frost and Blue Jay had been certain the Myth Hunters would have made it back through some Door in the Veil. It would likely be many hours before any of those searching for them could catch up, but it was better not to take chances.

So they had struck out from the road, journeying first through farmland and then up into the hills and then deep in the Cardiff Forest. Blue Jay lost sight of them for much of their trek through the woods but he continued to circle and to travel southwest. He had seen night birds flying—several owls, but no Perytons and no Strigae. On the road there had been private carriages, but this far from any frequented path, only the wild legends were about. Goblins and sprites and the occasional giant might live in the forest, but they would not have anything to do with the conspiracy against the Borderkind.

Even so, the moment he saw them emerge from the forest and start down the grassy hill into the valley, Blue Jay felt a wave of relief sweep over him. He could easily make out the shambling form of Chorti. Cheval Bayard drifted along beside him, ghostly in her translucent gown, silver hair picking up the shine of the moon. Chorti’s wounds would heal, but she doted on the monster in the meantime.

The tiger stalked along behind them with Li upon his back. A gray specter followed: the single surviving Mazikeen. He moved as though floating just above the ground, never hurrying, never lagging behind. Blue Jay was unnerved in the presence of the sorcerers. He understood magic—hell, he was magic—but warping sorcery was something different entirely.

Last came Leicester Grindylow, who moved not at all like the ape Blue Jay considered him. He forgot that Grin was a water bogie and quite agile. The boggart never stayed precisely at the end of the line. He moved from side to side, swiftly and quietly, watching their backs.

Any doubts Blue Jay might have had about Grin’s loyalty had dissipated. The boggart was faithful, and smarter than he looked. In short order, he had come to trust the boggart more than any of the others, even Frost.

Once again, Blue Jay flew a circle. As he did, he thought he saw, far behind him, a single dark mark against the night sky.

The bird descended, swooping down from the dark. He passed over the trees, wings straight out, and then he was out over the grassy hillside, propelling himself after the Borderkind. When he reached Frost, he circled once around the winter man’s head and spread his wings. They became arms, and he set his feet down upon the grass. Blue Jay smoothed out his thick cotton shirt and shook his head. His long, braided, black hair fell down his back, and the feathers tied there danced in the breeze.

“Are they following, then?” Frost asked. In the moonlight, his jagged ice features looked blue.

“I’m not sure,” the trickster said. “I thought I might have seen something. But we’re far enough away now and moving closer to the Atlantic Bridge. No reason not to cross the border so that there is at least part of our trail they cannot track.”

Frost concurred.

The small group of Borderkind gathered around, there on the hillside. The Mazikeen inspected Chorti’s wounds silently and muttered a few words in his ancient tongue. The wild man grunted and actually smiled in relief, soothed by the spell.

This done, they all crossed together, that strange new family of Borderkind.

They left the long night of legend behind.

In the mundane world, dawn was on the eastern horizon. The seven Borderkind and the massive tiger stood on the shore of a broad half-frozen lake whose exposed surface rippled in the chill morning breeze. In the dawn’s light they found themselves surrounded by rolling fields and hills, with mountains in the distance.

A small town sprawled nearby, rows of white houses and shops with gray-black shingle roofs. It was a simple place, unchanged from a long ago time, and on that winter morning it was pale and faded, as though every home had its share of ghosts. The only brightness in the entire panorama was the twinkling of Christmas lights on several of the larger trees, but even that seemed halfhearted.

Cheval Bayard stepped away from them, leaving Chorti on his own. The town earned merely a glance. The lake drew her attention instead and she stepped into the water, crushing a thin shell of ice that had formed. A sensual shiver went through her and Blue Jay relished the sight. Contact with the water gave the kelpy great pleasure.

“Where are we?” Cheval asked, turning to look at Frost.

They all regarded Frost. No formal command had ever been given or taken, but he led them. Even the Mazikeen, alone now in his silence, looked to the winter man for instruction.

Frost glanced around, hesitating. He didn’t want to say it, but Blue Jay saw in his eyes that he had no idea where they were. Li ran his fingers through his tiger’s fur, the two growling softly to one another—serious and proper, they seemed two halves of a whole, complete unto themselves.

They all seemed slightly baffled, but then Grin spun around once, nodding as though to himself.

“Can’t say for sure, but if I was the sort, I’d wager we’re in Wales. Kind of gray, but pretty. Mountains. We headed off west, so, Wales. We keep going west, or south…or any direction but east, really, and we’ll hit ocean, yeah?”

The winter man held up a hand, feeling the wind. “Due west.”

And so they went, that strange parade, across thirty miles of the hills and fields of Wales, moving faster than ever they could have with Oliver or any human along for the journey. The sun had been up less than two hours when they came to a rocky coastline where the wind whipped at them and the waves crashed furiously upon the shore. Several houses were in sight, but as they approached the Irish Sea the sky had become overcast and now hung low and grim above them. All throughout their journey they had easily avoided being sighted by humans. It was not difficult in a country as quiet and desolate as this. And now, on the shore, it mattered little if they were seen by an old Welshman or some young housewife.

Who would believe them?

The waves crashed on the rocks and spattered them all with frigid sea spray. Li’s tiger kept well back from the water, growling at the raging surf. The Guardian of Fire sat astride him, watching Frost impatiently.

Cheval stood with her feet in the water, stroking the fur on the back of Chorti’s neck as he leaned into her, the largest, most ferocious pet anyone had ever had. Or so it seemed. But they all knew differently. The two shared a rare friendship that any would envy, if it had not been based on grief and loss.

The Mazikeen kept his distance, lost in his flowing robes. Blue Jay tried to catch his eye, but the sorcerer resolutely refused to meet such direct scrutiny. He stroked his beard and kept his gaze out to sea. Blue Jay wondered what created that distance the Mazikeen kept between themselves and others. What was this guy thinking?

Frost strode up beside Blue Jay. He seemed quite recovered now. “Are you ready to cross?”

“Is anyone else getting tired of this back and forth?” Blue Jay asked, looking around at the others.

Grin leaped from one large rock to the next like some reckless child, spinning toward his kin.

“Unless we’re very unlucky, this ought to be our last jaunt through the Veil for a bit, yeah? You worry too much.”

Blue Jay blinked in surprise. He was a mischief maker, a trickster. In all his ages, no one had ever accused him of worrying too much about anything. But that was the world they were living in now, wasn’t it?

Frost laughed softly and shook his head, icicle hair chiming. “Oh, yes, because we’ve been very lucky so far.”

The trickster turned to the winter man. “We’re still alive, aren’t we?”

Frost sobered, all trace of amusement gone. There was a brief pause and then he turned to the others.

“Shall we go?” he said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

And in a way, Blue Jay supposed it was. After all, what choice did they have? One by one they slipped through the Veil again and now found themselves on the eastern bank of the Atlantic River, far, far north of the main bridge. There were other bridges, of course, but they were all in agreement that crossing the river that way was a terrible idea.

Cheval and Grin swam, both of them ecstatic to be in the water, even briefly. Frost whipped up a cold wind and let it carry him away as a gust laden with sleet. Blue Jay could fly, but that left Chorti, Li, and the tiger. The Mazikeen muttered something in a low voice and gestured for the trickster to move along. Blue Jay presumed he planned some magic or another and the sorcerer’s presence unnerved him, so he spread his arms into wings and took flight.

When he landed on the opposite bank of the broad, churning river, he was the last to arrive. Somehow the Mazikeen had gotten the others there before him. The tiger seemed disoriented, snapping its jaws at the air, and Chorti’s eyes were glazed as though he was drugged. Li kept far away from the Mazikeen after that.

They set off toward the southwest, Frost once more leading the way. There was a great deal of open land between here and Yucatazca and a few small villages they would avoid, just as they would only travel on the Truce Road for the few seconds it took to cross it.

Blue Jay walked beside the silent sorcerer and studied his gray features. “You’re really freaking me out, you know that?”

The Mazikeen glanced sharply at him, eyes narrowed. “I mourn. My brothers are dead. Your kin are being slaughtered, yet you laugh and smile. Why do you not mourn?”

“Whistling in the dark, my friend. Whistling in the dark.”

The Mazikeen wore a quizzical expression but Blue Jay did not bother to explain. He picked up his pace, nodding to Li as he passed. The tiger ran its tongue over long fangs and eyed him hungrily. Li cuffed the back of its head and the tiger snapped at him but did not falter in its stride.

“I had a thought,” Blue Jay said as he caught up to Frost.

The winter man glanced back at the others. They were far enough ahead that their words would not be overheard. “Yes?”

“If we adjust our course slightly southward, it would affect our travel time only a little and put us on a path to pass right by the Sandman’s castle. The one where you and Kitsune and Oliver found all of the dead Red Caps.”

The wave of cold that emanated from Frost in that moment made Blue Jay shiver and his teeth clack together. His eyelashes felt as though ice had formed on them. Blue-white mist rose from the winter man’s eyes.

“Why would we want to do that?” Frost asked.

Anger flashed through the trickster. “Oliver’s sister is his captive, as you well know. We don’t have a way of knowing if Oliver and Kitsune have reached the eastern castle. If we have an opportunity to help and we’re so close, it seems—”

“The Sandman could have Collette Bascombe anywhere. You are correct that we have no way of knowing what has transpired since we parted company with Oliver. But we cannot delay our own efforts another moment, or risk ourselves in any other cause. Oliver and Kitsune have one objective, and the rest of us have another. Or has it not occurred to you that at this very moment, and every other minute that has passed since we set out, other Borderkind may be dying?”

“Of course it has,” Blue Jay snapped.

Frost glared at him, eyes colder than ever. “Keep your focus, Jay. We’ll travel south through the Oldwood, amongst the wild legends, all the way to Yucatazca. They may think to search for us there, but they’ll have a terrible time finding us, and no cooperation in the hunt. All that matters now is reaching Yucatazca.”