HUNTER ENCOUNTER The dream was of the palace gardens, but the flowers were made of glass and they were shattering under my feet. I woke up with my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

Something was wrong. The air in the shack felt different. It was too still.

I stayed perfectly flat in the hay, my eyes darting toward the cracks in the wooden walls. The sun was higher now, casting long streaks of light across the dirt floor. Then I saw it—a shadow blocked one of the light ...