Gabriel knew where to find Liv; Ricky did not, and that proved, yet again, where she belonged.
Where she'd always belonged.
Gabriel's eyes narrowed, a studying look that asked if Ricky was all right, even if he would never actually say the words.
Ricky squeezed his arm and said, "Let's go get her," and if his tone was a little too bright, he only got another searching look before Wmffre said, "We'll head this way."
They picked their way along the alley, past the bloodied melltithiwyd. Wmffre was talking to the cwns, in Welsh, and when he lifted his arm, the two hounds took off to scout ahead.
Lloergan looked up at Ricky.
"Go on," he said.
She leaned against his leg, like a kid clutching her father's leg as the others took off to play. Ricky crouched.
"They're your pack. Go with them. I'll be fine."
She still hesitated, but he gave her a gentle push, feeling like that dad, struggling between the impulse to keep her safe and knowing she had to separate, stand on her own, join her peers.
A sigh from Lloergan, one that made him smile, and then she took off, his hand skimming her back as he tried to give her a final pat.
"Be home before dark," he called after her.
Meic chuckled. "She'll be fine. She's doing very well. It helps, being with you. It's a tremendous boost to her confidence, being chosen by Arawn's representative. You're good to her."
"She deserves a little good."
The Huntsman dipped his chin. "Very true. Now, I believe if we go this way, we can keep an eye on the hounds. Let them scout and find Ioan and Olivia while--"
Meic stopped with a near-convulsive jerk, his head shooting up. Gabriel had gone still, too. "No!" Gabriel whispered, and then, "Everyone! Cover! Now!"
Ricky felt it. Felt it before he saw it, only a split second after Meic and Gabriel must have sensed the same thing.
Something's coming.
No, not something. The darkness. The sluagh.
Gabriel was pushing him toward a door, and Ricky wanted to say no, it was just the sluagh, just that woman, and they'd dealt with her before, but even as he thought that, something in his brain screamed, Not the same. Not the same at all!
Gabriel shoved him toward the door, muttering, "Get inside. Need to get inside," a note in his voice making the hairs on Ricky's neck rise, as if he wasn't hearing Gabriel, wasn't hearing Gwynn, was hearing something older, something deeper.
Gabriel grabbed the doorknob, twisted, and yanked. When it didn't give way, he wrenched, frantically, as if in panic.
"Here, let--" Ricky began.
Gabriel inhaled deeply, and came back with, "No, I have this," sounding himself again as he pulled picks from his pocket.
That's when Meic said, "No!" and Ricky turned and saw the sluagh--the true sluagh, the darkness--a black funnel cloud shooting for the hounds.
Meic shouted something in Welsh and Ricky started to run, seeing Lloergan out there, the sluagh heading straight for her, and thinking, I need to be there.
And then he was. He slammed inside
his hound. There was not even a split second of darkness. Ricky was running for Lloergan and then he was Lloergan, racing behind the other cwns, the earth pounding under her paws.
The sluagh struck. It hit the lead hound, and the poor beast somersaulted backward, and all he could hear--all Lloergan could hear--was the cracking of bone. The hound flew into the air, body limp and lifeless, and then blood, as if in afterthought, burst from the beast's stomach, blood and viscera, as the sluagh slammed through the hound like a fist.
Lloergan saw it--saw her pack brother ripped apart, the sluagh bursting through--and she let out a stifled yelp, as if she couldn't even find breath.