Kessis waits with me outside Keres House gates as the sun begins to rise in the east. It's another hazy morning in Eureka, the skies a dull yellow as sunlight struggles to penetrate the dust. There's no pattern, no way for meteorologists to predict when the winds will shift and the haze will lift. That sort of reliable consistency went out the window a decade ago. Rumor has it that it's based off of Ehtab's whim and a demon's moods are the definition of mercurial.

Winston shifts his weight and his armor creaks as he moves. I lift my hand and lay it on his warm neck, gloved fingers curling into his dense brown-grey fur.

Movement.

Up on the battlements, the guards shift their attention to the street. A pair of headlights cuts through the gloom, followed by two more. A small convoy of electric armored cars pull up to Keres House, one towing a small horse trailer.

I remember hearing about how expensive and rare electric cars used to be pre-Turning. Now, it's practically all we have out here on the West Coast—when the convoys and container ships manage to get to through, that is. The Motor City, Detroit, is said to be surrounded by a wall manned by priests, nuns and other holy folk in order to keep the factories protected.

Four men get out of the first car, all dressed in body armor and each carrying a small arsenal upon their person. Kessis and I exchange a silent look. I wonder if this is their everyday gear or are they just trying to intimidate the Hunters in their Bedouin-inspired garb?

The men take up position around the middle car while two men and one woman step down from the electric truck at the back. Not a word is spoken as they lower the tailgate and I hear the sound of horse's hooves ring on the ramp. A coppery chestnut Arabian mare is led into view, her four white socks flashing in the headlights. I don't know much about horses, but what I do know is that Arabians are extremely popular in this area, having been bred for these exact conditions for thousands of years.

I'm interested to note that the mare is outfitted in light armor which subtly hums with protection charms.

Only when the mare is completely tacked and loaded up with my charge's gear do the doors of the middle car finally swing open.

Guildmaster Kessis glances at me then steps forward, pulling down his face wrappings. "Welcome to Keres House, Mayor Abbott."

Conrad Abbott is a tall, thin man with watery green eyes, a pronounced Adam's apple, and pale blond hair that is tied in a short queue at the base of his neck. He wears a light brown suit that nearly matches the color of the dust that gently swirls around our feet. As he exits the car, he presses a purple and red checkered handkerchief to his nose and mouth.

"Guildmaster," he replies, voice muffled by the handkerchief. The two men shake hands, and then Abbott looks over at me. "Who's this? I asked for a woman, not a girl."

Behind my veils, I frown. I'm short, it's true, but that's never proved to be a problem in the field. Winston snorts and shakes his head, ears flapping.

Abbott nearly drops his handkerchief as he finally registers Winston's presence. "And what the hell is that thing? A moose?"

I glance over at Winston. Beneath his plastic protective dome, the skin between the big bull's eyes actually crinkles at the insult.

"This is Raine Barlow," Kessis says, gesturing to me. "She is one of best Hunters Keres House has to offer."

I shift my weight and cross my arms, glaring at the mayor.

Abbott's eyes rake me from head to toe, assessing. He turns to Kessis. "You better be right, Kessis. A lot is riding on getting Kayleigh safely to Dust."

A lot is riding on getting his kid to the City of Dust? Beneath the veils, the corner of my mouth twitches. What the hell does that mean?

"I understand, Mayor Abbott," Kessis replies smoothly. "I assure you, Raine is the best one for the job."

"She better be," the mayor grumbles. He turns to the open car door. "Come out, Kayleigh."

All I see at first is blue, and then a young girl emerges from the car. She's dressed in a knee-length split sky-blue tunic edged in white. Baggy sky-blue pants are tucked into scuffed brown leather boots that are laced up to her calves. A gauzy blue veil is wrapped around her head, doing its best to tamper down an impressive array of thick black curls. Honey-colored eyes set into a smooth, light brown face dart around nervously.

Kayleigh Abbott stands next to her father, brushing off flecks of dust that blow onto her garments. Her childish shape is padded in strategic places, which earns my approval. The outer clothes might be a little light on the layers for my taste, but it appears that she is wearing some sort of body armor beneath them.

Next to me, Winston huffs, deep, guttural sound that draws Kayleigh's attention. "Is that a battle-elk?" she asks in a voice that is young, but not childish in its inflection. Thank God.

Leaving her father's side, Kayleigh walks up to me and Winston. The battle-elk paws at the broken pavement, nostrils flaring as he excitedly sniffs the girl.

What the hell?

Kayleigh giggles, a high, clear note and reaches up to pat his exposed muzzle. "What's your name?" she asks him, not looking at me.

What the hell? I think again, staring at Winston. He's never shown the least amount of interest in anyone else, let alone children. And for some strange reason that I cannot explain, kids like giant cervines.

"Winston," I find myself replying.

Kayleigh turns to me, one hand still on Winston's muzzle. The bull practically has his face buried in her chest. Am I going to have to forcibly separate the two?

"Oh, did you name him after the character in Ghostbusters?"

I didn't think that it was possible, but the kid has me even more floored. "Y-yes," I stammer, completely caught off-guard.

"That's my favorite movie, too," she says, reaching up to scratch Winston's scarred cheek.

I stare at her and cross my arms, at a loss for words.

Thankfully, Guildmaster Kessis comes in to save me. "Shouldn't you be heading off, Raine?"

Shaking off the last vestiges of my astonishment, I recover and wind the veils more firmly around my nose and mouth. "Yes." I look down at the girl. "Are you ready?"

Slowly, her hand drops from Winston's and she looks over her shoulder at her father. "Dad?"

Mayor Abbott nods tightly. "It's time to go, Kay-bear."

Okay, so maybe the mayor isn't a complete asshole if he has a nickname for his kid.

Kayleigh reluctantly pulls her hand away from Winston and turns towards her Arabian mare. I glance sideways at the battle-elk. "What was that all about?" I whisper under my breath.

Winston snorts, then prods me in the shoulder with his muzzle; and, just like that, any jealousy evaporates. I pat his shoulder and pivot to put my foot in the stirrup. Swinging my leg up and over, I settle into the saddle. Reaching down, I adjust the angle of the Winchester in its holster.

When I look up, Mayor Abbott is standing at the mare's side, one hand on the rounded saddle horn, the other on his daughter's knee. Their heads are bent close together—one dark, the other fair.

It would be a touching sight if I had a heart, but the years have left me with very few emotions. It's a nice gesture, I suppose, but we have to get going. Cockatrices are most active in the afternoon, when the temperature is at its warmest. If we leave now, we'll have several good hours of traveling before I have to worry about breaking out the crossbow and throwing knives.

I feel a presence at my right knee. Looking down, I spy Guildmaster Kessis. "Good luck, Raine."

"Thanks," I grunt, kneeing Winston into a walk. The battle-elk shifts into motion, harness and armor jingling.

Hooves trot across the pavement. I glance sharply over my shoulder to see the girl and her mare easing up beside us. Tears are in her eyes.

Ignoring her obvious turmoil, I focus on the road ahead. "You're to stay by my side at all times," I tell her as a sharp gust of wind blows down the street, only to curve upwards. "Do not wander off, do not be curious about anything we encounter on the road—do you understand?"

"Y-yes," she mumbles.

"This is a matter of life and death," I plow on, disregarding her wavering voice. "Have you ever been outside of the city?"

"No."

"Then you're not familiar with the dangers that lie outside the city limits. There are things out there that will kill you as soon as they lay eyes on you."

"Okay."

I think she gets it. Shifting in the saddle, I lean back slightly, prepared for a long stretch of non-stop travel.