Frost had been right. Crossing back through the Veil from the Akrai had put them in the midst of the Latin Quarter of Perinthia again. They had been spread out, so that it took precious seconds for them all to gather again in the ruins of the Greek and Roman city. Strigae perched on the peaks of buildings and shattered rubble, and the black birds began to caw loudly, a shrill cry like children being stabbed. It filled the air. Legends in the Latin Quarter had pulled their shutters quickly or raced to hide in shadows.
But they were only birds.
There would be no retreat for the Hunters. Ordinary legends, they could not slip away through the Veil the way Borderkind did. They could not cross between worlds without a door.
The Strigae hadn’t stood a chance. Dusk had settled over Perinthia. Though Frost and Chorti had been injured, they were not so badly wounded that they could not trouble annoying birds. Frost impaled the nearest Strigae with a spear of ice that jutted from the palm of his hand. The others cried out and their wings beat the air as they tried to flee.
Blue Jay had slain two of them himself. Grin had climbed an old palazzo with three quick bounds and grabbed hold of a Strigae, then snapped its neck with a quick twist. Li burned three of them right out of the air with gouts of flame that spewed from his throat, breathing fire like a dragon. The tiger had broken one in its jaws. Two or three of the Strigae had escaped, but Blue Jay had pursued them for a mile to be sure they would not follow, and as he suspected, they had not even slowed in their flight of terror.
As the evening deepened, the darkness gathering its cloak around Perinthia, Cheval Bayard had slain the sentries at two of the watchtowers on the edge of the city. They had left Perinthia without raising an alarm on the northern end, but by the time the dead sentries were discovered, they would already have circled around and started southwest, away from the city.
As a bird, Blue Jay had flown far above them throughout the journey, circling, watchful for any threat or pursuit. They had given a wide berth to the village of Bromfield. There would be no help from the Lost Ones who lived there, and certainly not from any of the legendary. They could expect little help wherever they went, but Frost and Oliver and Kitsune had stopped in Bromfield on their way to Perinthia and doubtless there would be spies in the village on the watch for Borderkind.
No one could be trusted.
As a trickster, he understood that, but Blue Jay wondered if the others truly did.
Once past Bromfield, the motley collection of Borderkind had traveled briefly on the Truce Road, where the going was far smoother. But as the night deepened and the creatures of darkness roamed across the land, there would be too much risk of an unpleasant encounter. Also, by then, Frost and Blue Jay had been certain the Myth Hunters would have made it back through some Door in the Veil. It would likely be many hours before any of those searching for them could catch up, but it was better not to take chances.
So they had struck out from the road, journeying first through farmland and then up into the hills and then deep in the Cardiff Forest. Blue Jay lost sight of them for much of their trek through the woods but he continued to circle and to travel southwest. He had seen night birds flying—several owls, but no Perytons and no Strigae. On the road there had been private carriages, but this far from any frequented path, only the wild legends were about. Goblins and sprites and the occasional giant might live in the forest, but they would not have anything to do with the conspiracy against the Borderkind.
Even so, the moment he saw them emerge from the forest and start down the grassy hill into the valley, Blue Jay felt a wave of relief sweep over him. He could easily make out the shambling form of Chorti. Cheval Bayard drifted along beside him, ghostly in her translucent gown, silver hair picking up the shine of the moon. Chorti’s wounds would heal, but she doted on the monster in the meantime.
The tiger stalked along behind them with Li upon his back. A gray specter followed: the single surviving Mazikeen. He moved as though floating just above the ground, never hurrying, never lagging behind. Blue Jay was unnerved in the presence of the sorcerers. He understood magic—hell, he was magic—but warping sorcery was something different entirely.
Last came Leicester Grindylow, who moved not at all like the ape Blue Jay considered him. He forgot that Grin was a water bogie and quite agile. The boggart never stayed precisely at the end of the line. He moved from side to side, swiftly and quietly, watching their backs.
Any doubts Blue Jay might have had about Grin’s loyalty had dissipated. The boggart was faithful, and smarter than he looked. In short order, he had come to trust the boggart more than any of the others, even Frost.
Once again, Blue Jay flew a circle. As he did, he thought he saw, far behind him, a single dark mark against the night sky.
The bird descended, swooping down from the dark. He passed over the trees, wings straight out, and then he was out over the grassy hillside, propelling himself after the Borderkind. When he reached Frost, he circled once around the winter man’s head and spread his wings. They became arms, and he set his feet down upon the grass. Blue Jay smoothed out his thick cotton shirt and shook his head. His long, braided, black hair fell down his back, and the feathers tied there danced in the breeze.
“Are they following, then?” Frost asked. In the moonlight, his jagged ice features looked blue.
“I’m not sure,” the trickster said. “I thought I might have seen something. But we’re far enough away now and moving closer to the Atlantic Bridge. No reason not to cross the border so that there is at least part of our trail they cannot track.”
Frost concurred.
The small group of Borderkind gathered around, there on the hillside. The Mazikeen inspected Chorti’s wounds silently and muttered a few words in his ancient tongue. The wild man grunted and actually smiled in relief, soothed by the spell.
This done, they all crossed together, that strange new family of Borderkind.
They left the long night of legend behind.
In the mundane world, dawn was on the eastern horizon. The seven Borderkind and the massive tiger stood on the shore of a broad half-frozen lake whose exposed surface rippled in the chill morning breeze. In the dawn’s light they found themselves surrounded by rolling fields and hills, with mountains in the distance.
A small town sprawled nearby, rows of white houses and shops with gray-black shingle roofs. It was a simple place, unchanged from a long ago time, and on that winter morning it was pale and faded, as though every home had its share of ghosts. The only brightness in the entire panorama was the twinkling of Christmas lights on several of the larger trees, but even that seemed halfhearted.
Cheval Bayard stepped away from them, leaving Chorti on his own. The town earned merely a glance. The lake drew her attention instead and she stepped into the water, crushing a thin shell of ice that had formed. A sensual shiver went through her and Blue Jay relished the sight. Contact with the water gave the kelpy great pleasure.
“Where are we?” Cheval asked, turning to look at Frost.
They all regarded Frost. No formal command had ever been given or taken, but he led them. Even the Mazikeen, alone now in his silence, looked to the winter man for instruction.
Frost glanced around, hesitating. He didn’t want to say it, but Blue Jay saw in his eyes that he had no idea where they were. Li ran his fingers through his tiger’s fur, the two growling softly to one another—serious and proper, they seemed two halves of a whole, complete unto themselves.
They all seemed slightly baffled, but then Grin spun around once, nodding as though to himself.