It didn't take Galleytrot long to hone in on Rosetta's scent. I was just grateful the Chosen had overlooked the fact the big dog could track her.

Idiots.

The Sidhe hound, Sunny and I crouched at last behind a clump of musty-smelling bushes, gazes locked on the dilapidated old hip-roof barn at the edge of the field. I stuffed down a sneeze as the rising breeze threw the scent of decaying grass our way. Faint light, flickering like fire, showed through the cracks in the ...