CHAPTER ELEVEN

Wendy

After a long bus ride, Alec and I finally make it to Lockeport, Nova Scotia, a little after dark. Freezing rain slices through the night, coming down on my shoulders and hair and making me shake. Hunched over, we sprint for a restaurant's overhang.

"Ugh." I rub my hands against my arms. "I didn't even think about rain."

"Soon it'll be snow."

My lips draw thin. This is the wrong time of year to do an in-depth tour of thirty-eight hundred islands.

"The Silver Hunters could have been a little courteous and attacked in spring, don't you think?" I ask.

It's a poor and tasteless joke, and it's no surprise that Alec doesn't laugh. Apparently, my new way of dealing with stress is resorting to humor. Whether that's healthy or not, I'm not really sure.

"They probably have rain ponchos." Alec nods at a tourist shop across the street. "Let's pop in and see."

"Sounds good."

Igor gave us a little bit of money to get by on, but we'll still need to be tight with expenses. Even though