‘‘It’s two blocks away. I had to come here to hide because I think someone from the committee saw me when I was checking out a dead end in Montmarte. At least I assume it’s someone from the committee— few mortals unconnected with the Otherworld would be able to follow me when I’m in the shadow world, and I’ve seen the same woman three times in the last twenty minutes.’’

‘‘I am with you now,’’ he said matter-of-factly, as if that made everything right, and damned if it didn’t.

‘‘I’m not sure why, but Cyrene’s trail has gone, yet the signs of the dragon remain,’’ I said as we moved cautiously down a relatively quiet street in Ménilmontant, a working-class area in the Parisian suburb of Belleville. ‘‘I guess it just has something to do with dragon scales lasting longer because they’re tangible, as opposed to signs that an elemental being passed by.’’

‘‘Just so you’re sure it’s Kostya you were following.’’

‘‘Well, it’s the dragon who was with Cyrene at the portal shop. Unless he had someone else meeting them there, it’s got to be him.’’

We stopped in front of a small bakery. Above it, curtained windows bedecked with tiny window boxes indicated modest apartments for the residents of the area.

‘‘That’s it. I didn’t go in, but I did search for signs at the exits. I didn’t see anything that said the dragon who went in has left.’’

‘‘Good work, little bird. You will please remember that Kostya is mine to deal with,’’ he said as he angled his body to block the view of any passersby. I persuaded the lock to open, allowing us both to slip into a narrow, dim hallway that ended in a flight of stairs leading upward.

‘‘Agathos daimon,’’ I muttered to myself as I shadowed.

‘‘What is it?’’

‘‘It’s what’s not—the trail. It’s gone cold.’’

‘‘It does not matter. If Kostya is here, I will find him,’’ Gabriel said grimly.

I climbed the stairs slowly, examining them carefully for signs of dragon scales. Here and there I found a faint glimmer of a scale, but for the most part, the trail was gone. ‘‘Before you go bursting into all the apartments, let me look at their doors.’’

He didn’t want to wait; I could see that. His muscles were tense and tight, the pupils in his eyes narrowed until they were thin little ebony strips. I hurried to the nearest door before he decided he would risk disturbing innocent people in his quest to get ahold of Kostya.

We hit pay dirt at the fourth and last apartment, at the far end of the building.