On the return drive to Cainsville, I sat in the back with Lloergan. Under her mostly, given her size. I had a bag of her food, and she was taking pieces from me. As she ate, I rubbed her good ear. The other is little more than a ragged stump, and she’s partially blind in one eye, old injuries from an attack that killed the rest of her pack.

After that attack, Lloergan had been found by a twisted bastard who didn’t deserve the name of Huntsman. He’d helped her recover from her injuries…but only so she could serve him. When we took his hound, he’d fled to parts unknown.

All of that left Lloergan a bit of a mess, maimed from the attack and suffering from years of psychological abuse. She was improving, though. Her coat gleamed. Her ribs no longer showed. Perhaps more importantly, she didn’t cower before the Huntsmen and their hounds. Her psychic bond with the Cŵn Annwn had been severed in the attack, but we’d seen hints of it re-forming with both Ricky and me.

Gabriel drove along a back road. Snow had begun to fall, and people hadn’t yet remembered how to drive in winter, so it was safer staying off the highway.

As I traced a flake down the side window, I said, “Solstice, right?”

“Hmm?”

“Cainsville celebrates Solstice, not Christmas.”

“They acknowledge Christmas. They decorate the trees and whatnot, but yes, Solstice is the big day. Or night, as it were.”

“And you’ll show me your gargoyle then?”

He gave an uncharacteristic, “What?”

“You found your last gargoyle on Solstice. That’s the only time it appears. With that, you won the contest and had a gargoyle made in your likeness. Ergo, you’ll show yours to me on Solstice night.”

“I fail to follow the logic of that explanation.”

“It’s Liv-logic. I’ve decided that’s what I want for my Solstice gift. To see your gargoyle.”

“I don’t believe anyone said anything about a Solstice gift.”

Lloergan growled.

“Be nice,” I said to Gabriel. “You’re upsetting the puppy.”

“That ‘puppy’ is nearly as big as me.”

Another growl.

“Careful,” I said. “You might be bigger, but her teeth are a lot sharper. You—”

Lloe scrambled up, growling and snapping.

“Whoa, girl! Down!”

A shape darted onto the road ahead.

“Gabri—!” I began.

He’d already hit the brakes. The car went into a slide, the road slick with new snow. I wrapped my arms around Lloergan and braced for impact. A thunk as the car went off the road. Then the clatter of wet gravel hitting the underside. A crack, and a jolt slammed me back in my seat, Lloergan scrambling, her nails digging into my leg.

One moment of absolute silence.

Then, “Olivia?” A pause and the clack of a seat belt. “Olivia?”