He yanked it back. “It’s a wavelength that humans can’t see. I didn’t know that witches could.”

Slightly mollified, I backed down. “Well, I can. Don’t use it.” I stood and watched in disbelief as he flicked his light on and belligerently picked up the bell. It tinkled faintly, and after knocking the dirt from it, he jingled it again. I could not believe this. Putting a hand on my hip, I glared at the red glow hovering over the broken city miles away. The pure sound was muffled, and he tucked it in a little belt pouch.

“Freaking tourist,” I muttered, then, louder, said, “If you’ve got your souvenir, let’s go.” I nervously stepped to the more certain dark of a twisted tree. It had no leaves, and it looked dead, the cold, gritty wind having scoured all life from it.

Instead of following, Trent pulled a paper from his back pocket. The penlight came on again, and he shone it on a map. A red glow reflected up on his face, and furious, I snatched the light away again.

“Are you trying to get caught?” I whispered. “If I can see it, and you can see it, what makes you think a demon can’t?”

Trent’s silhouette grew aggressive, but when the distinctive rustle of something small pushing through grass at a run rose over the soughing of wind in the trees, he closed his mouth.

“You had to ring the bell, didn’t you?” I asked, pulling him into the shadow with me. “You had to ring the damn bell.” I shivered in David’s borrowed coat, and he shook his head in disdain.

“Relax,” he said over the rustling of the closing map. “Don’t let the wind spook you.”

But I couldn’t relax. The moon wouldn’t rise until almost midnight, but the ugly glow in the sky made everything look like a first-quarter moon was shining. I stared at the heaviest glow, deciding that was north. The memory of Ceri’s map swam up, and I turned a little to the east. “That way,” I said as I tucked his light in my pocket. “We can look at the map when we find some broken buildings to hide the glare behind.”

Trent tucked the map into his pocket and shrugged his pack over his shoulders. I nervously shifted my bag to my other arm, and we started out, glad to be finally moving if only to warm up. Grass hid the low spots, and I stumbled three times before we’d gone thirty feet.

“How good is your night vision?” Trent asked when we found a reasonably level swath that ran exactly east to west.

“Okay.” I wished I had brought my gloves, and I hid my hands in my sleeves.

Trent still didn’t look cold as he stood before me, his cap making his outline radically different. “Can you run?”