“Do they realize that?” Gabriel asked the dryads. “Walter knows you’re here. He must presume that’s a link directly back to us.”

“Actually, he didn’t know we came along.”

“We were tricksy,” Helia piped up.

“Very tricksy,” Alexios said, with an affectionate smile for his mate. “We played spy to find out what he was up to. Then we planned to call and see what Liv wanted us to do. But the phone?” He took it from his pocket. “As useful as a rock.”

“Technology,” Helia said. “Humans are so fascinated by it, but when you need it, what happens? Beep-beep-beep. Your call cannot be completed.”

“It was working well enough to get us here,” Ricky said. “If the sluagh don’t know Walter was followed, then I’m going to agree with Gabriel—it’s time to grab Liv and retreat. I’m sorry about Seanna, but I’m guessing she’s not going to survive long enough to be rescued.”

“Was she still alive when you left?” Meic asked.

Helia nodded. “They’d put her in a room. She hasn’t woken.”

“Instead of simply killing her.” Gabriel turned to Ricky. “The sluagh may not know the dryads followed Walter, but they know we’ll come. That means Seanna is useful again. We need to get Liv out of there. Now.”

The raven, now huddled in the tree above, croaked as if in agreement. It launched from the tree and began circling back toward the main building as Meic called after it, in rapid-fire Welsh.

“She’ll find Ioan,” he said as the raven winged off. “He’ll understand the message. We should retreat and wait…”

Meic trailed off and Ricky followed his gaze to a dark dot, dropping from the sky. Then another one fell, and another, a line of them falling, plummeting toward—

“Down!” Gabriel shouted.

The first melltithiwyd hit the raven. Then the flock enveloped the bird, which let out one terrible shriek. And then blood. A burst of blood, and the melltithiwyd winged away, leaving nothing but blood raining down and Gabriel lunging, shouting, “No!”

Ricky grabbed his arm, but Gabriel had already recovered, with a snarl and a shake of his head, as if not knowing why he’d care about a bird, terrible though its death had been.

Then he wheeled, grabbing Ricky by the shoulders and yelling, “Down,” while not giving him even a second to actually get down, pitching him to the ground and dropping over him as Lloergan did the same.

Ricky appreciated the sentiment. Really did. He’d have figured Gabriel’s idea of thoughtfulness would be not throwing Ricky to the melltithiwyd as he ran. But—not to sound ungrateful—the combined weight of Gabriel and Lloergan’s bodies threatened to trade death by hell-bird for death by suffocation.