“Mom…” he began.

She shook her head. “Go,” she said.

CHAPTER XVIII

In the van, wearing Kate’s brother’s shirt and his own McGill hoodie over jeans, Ned did his best to focus. He had his small runner’s pack with him, would change into sweatpants and a T-shirt as soon as they hit the road east.

He’d screened himself before going out the door, so had Aunt Kim. Checking within, neither of them had sensed the presence of either of the two men—which wasn’t anywhere close to conclusive, he knew.

He’d taken three Advil and brought half a dozen more, and his sunglasses. Thinking now about how he’d felt the last time they went past the mountain dragged his thoughts pretty conclusively away from the scent of Kate Wenger on the white shirt. He felt scared.

Kate—in his blue-and-white rugby shirt and the slandered windbreaker and retro Expos baseball cap—was with Uncle Dave and Steve in the red car. Greg was driving the van. Ned’s father was up front, and Aunt Kim was beside him in back—because his aunt would be with Kate, not Ned.

Kate had worked this out, too. Detail person. Geek. Long legs. He had her written-out directions in his backpack. Front flap pocket. He’d put the rowan leaves in there, too.

Ned’s mother had stayed in the villa. He wasn’t sure why, but the hug she’d given him at the door was fierce. Fierce enough to make him more afraid.

Greg hit the remote control and led the other car through the gates. They went down the roadway towards the street. They would split after the first turn there: the red car west and north to Entremont, the van to Sainte-Victoire.

“You have your phone?” his father said, from the front seat. He’d asked that already, in the house.

Ned nodded. “Got it, Dad, yeah.”

“It’s charged?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“You’ll call if anything comes up?”

“I will.”

This wasn’t the time, Ned thought, to be hung up on sounding like an almost-adult.

“Ned,” said his aunt, “listen to me. If one of them gets to you, either one, and he orders you to stop…honey, you have to stop. They won’t be at their best if they decide she’s up there. Don’t assume you’re safe.”

He looked at her. “I won’t,” he said.

Won’t be at their best. One way to put it.

His father, looking back at the two of them, swore softly.

Then, a moment later, for a different reason, Greg swore, much more loudly, and hammered the brakes.

Ned looked back quickly, but Uncle Dave wasn’t tailgating. He skidded the red car to a halt behind them.

Ned leaned forward and looked out the front windshield.

“Oh, God,” he said.

His aunt was already flipping open her cellphone, speed-dialing, and then, with more urgency than he’d heard from her yet, she snapped, “Dave, do not get out! Stay in your car!”

He looked at her. His father turned around.

“No!” Aunt Kim said. “Dave, this is not for you. Stay there!”

But by then, Ned had unlocked his own door, slid it back, and stepped into the road himself.

He was really, really angry.

For an instant, he wondered why it had been so important that his uncle stay in the car. He wanted to ask, but didn’t have time. It occurred to him that there were a lot of questions you might have and never learn the answers to. He wasn’t even sure why he was in the road himself, with so much fury. He heard his father shout his name from behind. A long way behind, it seemed. He walked in front of the van.

“Hey, you!” he yelled.

The boar, blocking the road, didn’t move.

It didn’t even look at him. It was gazing past Ned, past the van, off into the woods beside the road, as if oblivious to his presence.

It really was massive. The size of a small bear, practically, with short, matted bristly hair, more grey than white. The tusks were curved and heavy. There was mud on them, and on the body, caked and plastered to the hair. The boar was dead centre in the road, and there was no way around it.

“Get out of here!” Ned shouted. “Damn it, you’re the one who showed me where to go. What are you doing?”

The animal didn’t move. It didn’t even seem to have heard him. It was as if Ned didn’t exist for it. As if…

Ned was about to shout again, but he didn’t. Instead he took a deep breath. Then he released his screening.

When he did that, the boar turned its head. It looked straight at him, the small, bright eyes fixed on his. Ned swallowed.

“I’m here,” he said, not really knowing what he was saying. “I listened. Figured it out. I’m going up. Let me go.”

For a long moment it was very still on that country lane. No sound from the cars behind Ned, no movement from the creature in front.

No movement. They were stuck here, blocked. And Ysabel might be up on the mountain, and time mattered. They needed to move. Feeling a hard white surge of anger, Ned brought his two hands up, palms together, extended. He levelled them at the dirt road beside the animal. He shivered. A flash of light exploded from him and struck sparks from the ground, spraying dust and gravel forward.

The boar looked at him another moment, then it turned, unhurried, undisturbed, and trotted through the ditch and the underbrush and into the trees.

“Sweet Lord,” Ned heard Greg say, behind him. “What is going on?”

Ned hustled back into the van. He pushed his door shut. “Drive!” he said. “Fast, Greg. I have a feeling it just let them know where I am. Maybe more than that.”

He checked within for the presence of the two men; found nothing. He put his screening back on.

“Why would it do that?” his father said. “Jesus, Ned. And how did you…?”

“I don’t know.” Questions, no answers. “But I have to beat them there. Let’s go.”

“Does it serve them?” Edward Marriner asked. There were deep, parallel lines creasing his forehead.

“Not that creature,” Aunt Kim said.

“Then what…?”

“Don’t know,” she replied. “Go, Greg.”

Greg shifted into gear, hit the gas. He ran the stop sign at the bottom, taking the corner hard to the left. At the main crossroad he turned left again. Looking back, Ned saw Uncle Dave signal and turn the other way, going just as fast.

Ned pushed off his track shoes and undid his belt, wriggling out of his jeans. Aunt Kim handed him the sweats and he worked his way into them. He put his shoes on again and laced them. Took a swig of water from his bottle. He should stretch, he knew, but it wasn’t going to happen. He took off the McGill sweatshirt and Kate’s white shirt. He pulled on his Grateful Dead T-shirt. Maybe not the very best logo for today, he thought. He stuffed the hoodie into his pack. Vera had said it would be cold on the mountaintop.

Where he was headed, with the sun going down.

GREG SPOTTED the brown sign. He slowed at a slight curve, and then they saw cars in a lot beside the highway.

“Do it fast,” Ned said tersely. “Just slow down, I’m going to jump out, you keep going.”

He was having trouble talking.

He was pretty sure he was about to be sick again. Wanted to get out of the van before that happened—and his father or his aunt stopped him from going.

Advil, rowan leaves, a supernatural screening, his aunt’s bracelet. Not a lot of good, any of them, or all of them together. The world was tinged towards red again here by Mont Sainte-Victoire, where two hundred thousand people had been slaughtered once upon a known time.

He took a breath, and told himself it was not as bad as before. That there probably was some benefit from the combination of things he was using. Enough to let him function. He hoped. He put his sunglasses on.

“Ned, you okay?” Aunt Kim asked.

“Yeah,” he lied.

His father looked back at him. Edward Marriner’s face was drawn and fearful. Ned’s heart hurt to see it. “I’m fine,” he lied again. “I can do this. I have my phone.”