Rituals (Cainsville 5)

one too gently, as if to say, Well, get on with it, then. It's your funeral.

As we headed down the road, I said, "What's the last movie we saw together?"

"We've never seen one together."

"Last one you saw?"

Silence, as he struggled to remember.

"Good enough," I said, and he nodded. He knew I was trying to determine whether this might be a vision, and I was zoned out in the Jag's backseat as it roared along.

I shoved my hands into my pockets. We hadn't officially hit winter yet, so I'd still been dressing for fall, expecting to spend maybe five minutes outside. My cropped leather jacket was more fashionable than practical. Same went for my footwear: Louboutin ankle boots with three-inch heels, which threatened to slide out from under me with each step.

Gabriel kept pulling ahead and then having to slow for me. When I got a particularly severe look, I broke into a jog...and landed on my ass.

Gabriel put out his hand to help me up, but I motioned for him to wait, gritting my teeth against the pain throbbing through my tailbone. Lloergan nudged me and whined concern.

Gabriel glanced at my footwear. "Aren't those boots?"

"Technically, yes. But for women, boots do not necessarily mean winter wear."

I took his hand and he tugged me up, saying, "You're freezing."

"I'll be fine."

He started taking off his coat.

"No, seriously, I'm fine and that would just weigh me down. We must be getting close to a farmhouse or something." As if on cue, the snow cleared enough for us to spot a laneway. "There. Now let's just hope someone's home."

His look said that was inconsequential. Locked doors don't stop Gabriel. As a teen, he'd survived on the streets using the only thing Seanna ever gave him: her talent for pickpocketing and burglary.

Gabriel patted his pockets and handed me a pair of gloves, which he apparently hadn't been bothering to wear himself. Then he said, "We'll walk slower," and put his arm around my shoulders. I wasn't sure if that was meant to keep me steady or warm, but I appreciated the gesture. Lloergan moved to my other side, sticking close enough to block the wind.

The snow whipped up, driving hard now, and we had to trudge, our gazes fixed on the gravel driveway, as we walked between twin rows of overgrown shrubs. The lane seemed to go on forever. Then those shrubs vanished, but there was still gravel under our feet, with weeds poking through the dirt and stones.

When something rose in our path, Gabriel yanked me back. It was a car rim with a metal pole sticking out of the center. Coated wire ran from the pole to a destination hidden by the snowfall. I put one gloved hand on the wire and followed it to another car rim and post.

"We're in a parking lot," I said. "These are row markers."

I called, "Hello!" and my voice echoed. "Hmm. Empty parking lot. Weed-choked gravel. That isn't very promising."

I checked my cell again. Still no signal. Lloergan nudged my hand. I crouched beside her.

"Any ideas?" I said.

She stared across the lot. When I squinted, I could make out dark shapes behind the curtain of snow. Lloergan took a deep snuffling breath and snorted, condensation puffing from her nostrils. Then she cautiously started forward. I did the same and nearly bashed into a sign--a wooden one, shaped like an arrow with peeling white paint and multicolored letters reading "Tickets!"

We changed course slightly, and after about a dozen paces we stepped onto concrete. Gardens bordered the walkway, the bushes gnarled, beds blanketed with dead weeds. When a giant rainbow appeared overhead, I stopped short. Then I realized it was a wooden arch, painted as a rainbow.

"Curiouser and curiouser," I said.

At eye level, a crooked sign read, "You're almost there!" Below it, a downward-pointing arrow proclaimed, "This way for fun and adventure!"

Gabriel straightened the sign so it pointed forward.

"Well, that makes more sense," I said.

I took another step, and my boot slid on the snow-slick concrete. Lloergan saved me the humiliation of another pratfall, as I fell against her. Gabriel tried to get a grip on my snow-covered jacket. I reached for his hand instead. He didn't hesitate, just took it, his fingers engulfing mine.