“We’re almost there,” she says. Two miles later she tells Sam to get off the interstate. “Stop! Right here, stop!” Sam slams the brakes beside an idling semi whose owner is pumping gas. Six goes invisible and steps out, leaving the door ajar.

“What’s she doing?” Sam asks.

“I don’t know.”

After a few seconds the open door slams shut. Six reappears and tells Sam to get us back onto the highway, this time heading north. She’s relaxed a bit, no longer holding a white-knuckled grip on the dashboard.

“Are you really going to make me ask what you just did?” I say.

She glances over. “That truck was on its way to Miami. I stuck the tracking device on the underside of its trailer. Hopefully they’ll lose a few hours trailing him south while we drive north.”

I shake my head. “Should be an interesting night for that trucker.”

Once we’re past the Ocala exits, Six tells Sam to get off and park behind a strip mall a few minutes from the interstate.

“We sleep here tonight,” Six says. “Actually, we’ll take turns sleeping.”

Sam opens his door and turns his body sideways to dangle his feet out of the SUV. “Um, guys? I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but well, I got cut pretty bad back there and it’s really starting to hurt and I think I’m about to pass out.”

“What?” I scramble out of the vehicle and stand in front of him. He pulls up the dirty right leg of his jeans to reveal a wound above the knee that’s slightly smaller than a credit card, though probably an inch deep. Dried and fresh blood cover his knee and shin.

“Good lord, Sam,” I say. “When did that happen?”

“Right before I got ahold of that Mog’s sword. I kind of pulled it out of my leg.”

“All right, come on, get out of the car,” I say. “Get on the ground.”

Six shoves her head under Sam’s armpit and helps him to the ground.

I open the back and retrieve the healing stone from the Chest. “Better hold on to something, man. This might . . . sting.” Six offers her hand, and he takes it. The second I press the stone to his wound he writhes in agony as every muscle tightens. It seems like he’s going to pass out. The skin around his wound turns white, then black, then to the bright red color of blood; and I immediately regret attempting to use the stone on a human. Did Henri ever say it won’t work on them? I’m trying to remember as Sam lets out a long-winded groan that empties him of air. The outer edge of the wound seals inward and then disappears altogether. Sam relaxes his grip on Six’s hand, and he slowly regains his breath. After a minute he’s able to sit up.