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to the cold. I shiver and pull Sage to me, feeling his wolf retreat until it is gone.
    The bald guard nods to me. “The border,” he says in even harsher Ukrainian.
    I wave him off, speaking Russian so I don’t have to listen to him butcher my mother tongue with his uncouth mouth. “We’re ready.” My new backpack rests behind me, a softer place to lean on than the cold wall of the van.
    They seem more than happy to see us go. And the feeling is completely mutual.
    I peer over the driver’s shoulder, nose flaring at the heavy scent of smoke, wolf’s gaze catching the distant glimmer of lights signaling the border crossing.
    “Arrangements have been made,” the driver says in a cheerful tone. He, at least, is Ukrainian, judging by his accent. “This will be but a moment.”
    I nod, begin to sit back, before freezing in place when I feel them against my shielding.
    Enforcers. I jerk back into position, eyes narrowing, searching the sky over the rapidly approaching border. They are nowhere in sight, but I sense the pressure of their power. Femke is looking for us.
    For a moment, I consider turning us in. At least Femke will be fair, treat Sage with courtesy and kindness. But she is bound by law, and will have no choice but to return us to my grandfather. So, no. We must avoid her Enforcers at all costs.
    “Stop.” The driver is startled, drops his cigarette with a curse, slamming on the brakes at the grating sound of my voice in his ear. “We must get out here.”
    The bald guard joins me behind the driver’s seat. “What is it?”
    I shake my head, turning to Sage who stares at me with growing anxiety.
    “Nothing you can help us with,” I say as I lunge for Sage and our backpacks. “Tell Iosif thank you. Your duty is done.”
    The back of the van opens easily under my hands, the well-oiled hinges telling me we’re not the first ones forced to sneak out before the journey is over. The bald guard slips out the back with us, breath rising from his lips in a column of mist as he points off to the right.
    “Tsurl,” he says. “Small town, you can hide there.”
    I look to the left. “And that way?”
    “Train tracks.” He shrugs, washing his hands of us as he leaps into the back of the van and pulls the doors shut.
    I pull Sage off the rutted road as the van makes a U-turn, the driver waving a jaunty farewell with his glowing cigarette. Tall grass and brush are an excellent hiding place in the dark, but only for a short time. I glance up the road toward the border, waiting to see if the van’s departure has been noticed.
    Nothing, no movement. And the Enforcer presence is steady, as though waiting, not actively searching. So we are in no worse shape now than before.
    Sage shoulders his pack, turning right, toward town. But I’m already slinking across the road, heading left. He hurries to catch up with me, hand on my arm. “Where are we going?”
    “Enforcers are waiting for us at the border.” Femke has to uphold law, even werelaw. The magical safety of Europe is her responsibility and having Sage running around—a known revenant in her territory—means she’s now forced to pursue us. Sage grimaces, looks back over his shoulder. “We’ll find a way across.” I pull him along by his grip on me, feeling his hand slide down to take mine. “But, for now, I don’t feel like walking, do you?” He shakes his head. “Then let’s go catch a train.”
     
    ***
     

Chapter Four
     
    The train is the perfect choice, at least. And Sage surprises me in how easily and courageously he boards the slow-moving boxcar. We luck out. The section of track near the border is curved and steep, offering an excellent opportunity for us to board safely. When I grin at him from the dark of the boxcar after a daring leap, he grins back.
    “Not my first time traveling,” he says.
    We settle among piles of boxes on the steel floor, a large sheet of discarded cardboard our only cushion, but enough to keep the chill of