WHEN THEY FINALLY made it back to the hotel, they showered and went to bed. Charles slept for a couple of hours but woke with the sun in his eyes. He was still tired, but he’d have to wait for nightfall to get more rest.

Anna was deeply asleep. She’d curled away from him at some point, though she had a foot pressed against his calf to make sure she knew where he was. He took a moment, while she couldn’t see him, to watch her, to convince himself that she was safe.

She was going to wake up if he got out of bed. He stayed for a few minutes more before acknowledging that he wasn’t going to be able to lie still—and so would wake her up anyway.

He slid out of bed and dressed. Anna rolled over and half opened her eyes.

“Shh,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

She looked at him with wolf-blue eyes for a full second. Then she rolled over to his side of the bed, grabbed his pillow, and went back to sleep.

He made sure the door was locked behind him. He stopped by the room next to them and pressed a hand against the window. He felt nothing. His wards around the grimoires were still holding.

Driven by restless thoughts, he took the path down to the river and was somehow unsurprised to see Anna’s rock occupied by a compact man who had his back to Charles. The man was, however, wearing buckskins and had his black hair braided and hanging down to brush the rock he sat upon—so Charles had a fair idea of who he was.

“Coyote,” he said. “Better late than never.”

“Do you think so?” said Coyote, turning to look up into Charles’s face. He had been chewing on a stick, and he tossed it into the river without looking. “I think I came in exactly when I wanted.”

“Too late to help?” Charles said. He hadn’t quite kept the growl out of his voice.

Coyote laughed heartily and slapped his leg. “You sure are a happy camper, aren’t you?” He took in Charles’s expression and laughed some more. “You get it, right? We’re in Happy Camp, but you aren’t a happy camper. I have been waiting all day to say that.”

“Why,” Charles asked, “are you here now?”

Coyote held up a finger. “Wait a moment.” He looked expectantly up the trail.

And Anna came hurrying down the path, sleep-tossed and bleary-eyed. “Where were you—” Her eyes fell on Coyote and she quit talking. She stopped a little to the side of Charles, giving him room if he needed to defend them.

She is smart, said Brother Wolf.

“She is,” agreed Coyote.

Charles wasn’t sure how he felt knowing Coyote could hear Brother Wolf.

“Well,” said Coyote impatiently, “are you going to introduce us?”