I lift my head and sniff the breeze, my tracking nose still tainted by the scent of revenants. But in this instance, I know it will serve me well. Magic moves around me in the quiet, snow-bound forest, witches of the Council forming a semi-circle, in an attempt to flush out our prey.

Femke's mind touches mine, foreign and cool but welcome. Any luck?

I have his trail, I send as the first whiff of the fleeing revenant carries to me. ...