The map took on depth, dimension, life. A miniature of this section of the world. Luis, like his brother, had traveled widely in this part of the country.

The drops of his blood glowed like fireballs in the aetheric, but their glow would quickly fade as natural decomposition set in. It was an odd thing that the very fuel that drove blood cells—oxygen—was also what corroded them. Already, the iron content was showing a chemical change.

Isabel’s connection to Luis was, in mathematical terms, a small percentage. She had half of her father’s DNA, half of her mother’s; of Manny’s DNA, half would be identical to Luis’s. The best we could hope for would be a 25 percent connection between the two.

It was still a strong bond. Like calls to like. One of the founding principles of the world.

Luis’s blood drops glowed brighter, as I bathed them with the essence of the Earth. They rolled very slowly across the plastic, tracing a path in wet trails, from Albuquerque. . . . . . . Heading north, straight north, winding along the highway that led up to Colorado.

The blood drops on the New Mexico map trembled and stopped moving just before the town of Counselor.

On the other map, the drops showed the same.

“Jicarilla Apache reservation,” Luis said. “That’s where she is.”

The drops—only faintly glowing now on the aetheric—nudged forward another fraction of an inch.

“That’s where she is now,” I agreed. “But she’s moving.”

We dropped out of the aetheric, and I wiped the blood from the plastic-coated maps before folding them and placing them in the interior pocket of my jacket.

We studied each other for a long, silent moment, and then Luis said, “You going to be up for this?”

“To finding Isabel? Yes.” I was no longer holding his hand, and so had only the smallest access to the aetheric, but the darkness in his aura was very clear. “You aren’t.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You need rest, Luis. You can’t sleep on the motorcycle. I need for you to be awake and alert.”

He shook his head. “No time. Every minute counts, Cassiel. What if—what if they hurt her—” He did not want to think about all the terrible things that could happen to a child, and neither did I.

“If they hurt her,” I said, “we will know.” I felt that to be true. The bond we had formed was strong enough, and Luis’s Earth Warden powers only amplified it. “Luis, you must rest. If you don’t, you won’t have any power to give me, and this trip will be wasted. We accomplish nothing.”

He didn’t want to sleep. When I stretched him out on the bed and placed my hand on his forehead, he still fought against the descending darkness. Something in him was too weary to go on—I could sense it—but some other part refused to let go. He’d spent a massive amount of energy in the past twenty-four hours, and I didn’t understand his resistance.

His fingers wrapped around my wrist, but he didn’t pull my hand away from his forehead. Even at close range, in the dimness, his dark eyes looked like pools of shadow.

“Promise me,” he said. “You promise me that you’ll get her back even if something happens to me. Promise. ”

“I will,” I said.

“Again.”

“I will.”

His fingers tightened. “Again.”

“I will,” I said. I bent forward to brush my fingers on his parted lips. “Sleep.”

His eyes drifted closed, and his grip loosened on my wrist, falling away.

I had meant to give him only the slightest contact, but his lips felt warm and soft beneath my fingers, and I lingered.

I stayed where I was until I was certain he was asleep, and then I moved to the small, stained armchair near the window. I watched the parking lot. There was little activity, and no one seemed to take an interest in our room.

A thief approached my motorcycle once, looking around to see if anyone was watching; when he tried to roll it away, I softened the asphalt beneath his feet, trapping him, and opened the door. He stared at me, struggling to free himself from what must have seemed to him a nightmare.

“Leave,” I told him, and restored the ground beneath his feet. “Don’t come back.” It seemed I should say something more constructive, perhaps. “And don’t steal.”

He looked down at his oil-stained athletic shoes and ran.

I went back to the chair, and before dawn came, I slid into a light, dreaming sleep.

I woke up to the smell of brewing coffee and running water. The shower. Luis was bathing. I felt stiff and uncomfortable, but warm enough; I looked down and saw that he had given me a blanket sometime during my rest. I rose, folded the cover, and walked to the coffeepot. I poured two cups and carried them into the bathroom.

Luis was a shadowy form behind the plastic curtain. I set the cup on the countertop.

“Cassiel?” The curtain moved aside, revealing only his face. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Bringing you coffee,” I said.

“Yeah, okay, thanks, but—” He sighed. “Privacy’s not really a concept for you, is it?”

I gave him a slow, thin smile. “Do you imagine I long to see you naked?”

Put that way, he had no answer. He let the curtain drop back in place.

I leaned against the counter and sipped my coffee, watching the shadowy form move, and when the water shut off, I went back into the bedroom.

Luis dressed quickly. While he was doing so, I washed myself in the overheated bathroom. The cooler air of the bedroom felt good on my damp skin when I walked out, my clothing over my arm.

Naked.

Luis looked, a kind of involuntary inspection, but then he turned his back. I made no comment as I dragged on my underwear and clothing, layer by layer, with the leather on the topmost. “I am not shy,” I assured him. “It’s not a Djinn trait.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I get that, actually.” He sounded very odd. He glanced over his shoulder, saw that I had clothed myself, and faced me again. “We’ve lost a lot of time.”

“No more than we would have if we’d gone as we were, faced our enemies, and lost,” I said. “I have her trace now, on the aetheric. I won’t lose them again.”

Not unless they realized the trick I had used to form the link, and found a way to break it.

I had to hope that they had taken the child for a reason, because the easiest possible way to sever the link was by killing her.

Luis drained the last of his coffee. “Let’s roll.”

A quick stop to outfit us both with helmets, and we were on the trail. It was a short enough drive into the Jicarilla reservation. Outside of Albuquerque, the New Mexico landscape edged away into dusty sages, ochers, and reds. There was vegetation, but it was the hardy kind, living on little and surviving much.

I felt an odd kind of kinship with it.

As we traveled, I assessed Luis’s condition. He was stronger today, and his reservoir of power had replenished itself. That reservoir, in human Wardens, seeped in from the world around them, a kind of osmosis that I seemed incapable of copying. It would be easier to absorb some of that power through the contact of skin, but I found that if I concentrated and was cautious, I could siphon small amounts even through the shielded contact where his hands held my waist.

I trembled with relief as his warm energy sank through my starved tissues, but I did not think he could feel it. The sensation was likely lost in the road vibration of the Victory as we sped through long, empty miles.

The map had shown us the route that Isabel had followed, but our analysis of alternatives showed us better-paved highways where I could open the throttle on the motorcycle and rocket us along at much higher speeds. Illegal, and therefore a risk, but like Luis, I felt desperate to make better time.

Ibby’s captors might be the same who’d launched such vicious attacks against Manny, against me, against Luis. If so, they’d shown little mercy or regard for innocents, and I could not be sure that Isabel’s tender age would make any difference to them.