I was almost ashamed of the sudden impulse to run and see where he’d gone. Um, down the side alley obviously. I waited a minute. Then I walked to the intersection and looked around the corner to see . . .

A dead end.

The alley was only about ten feet long and stopped at a chain-link fence. I couldn’t imagine Gabriel hopping that fence. He’s too big to be agile, and his dignity stops him from doing anything that could look, well, undignified.

I walked to the fence and peered through. No sign of Gabriel. That’s when my heart started pounding in earnest. And when I started cursing us both out for not retrieving our cell phones from the car before we set off to follow a Huntsman.

I returned to the lane and walked along it. When a dark shadow loomed over me, I turned with a greeting on my lips. No one was there. The shadow stayed, though, and I craned my neck to see an owl perched on the roof above.

Owl in daytime. Always a bad sign.

I rubbed the back of my neck.

Across the road at the end of the lane was a block of housing. An old woman stood in a rear yard scrubbing clothing in a basin with a washboard. I crossed the road, pulled by the archaic sight. She had her head down, scrubbing diligently while crooning to herself. I walked right up to the fence and peered over. I could see her long, snarled hair and her reed-thin, wizened arms. When she raised her head, I knew what I’d see. Those blackened, jagged teeth. That long nose and sunken eyes—one black and one gray.

“Y mae mor salw â Gwrach y Rhibyn,” I whispered.

Her mouth opened. “Fy mhlentyn, fy mhlentyn bach,” she shrieked. “Fy mhlentyn, fy mhlentyn bach.”

My child. My little child.

The bean nighe warns of death.

As she wailed, I stared at the white shirt in her hand. Gabriel’s shirt.

I turned, tripping and stumbling down the road. Then there was no road. I was in a field. I took two staggering steps and felt the soft earth beneath my feet and the long grass whispering against my legs. The field flickered, like a broken recording, and I was on the street again, feeling the pavement and hearing the whine of distant machinery. Two more steps and I was back in the field, a butterfly tickling past, the smell of wildflowers on the breeze.

I stopped and pressed my palms to my eyes.

I have to stay in the real world. Gabriel’s there.

I heard the shouts of construction workers and smelled the stink of fresh asphalt, and when I opened my eyes, I was on the street. I searched for a sign.

Nothing. Even the owl was gone. I spun back to Gwrach y Rhibyn, but in her place was an ordinary woman hanging out her laundry.