The sky was clear and the air was sharp, a good day to come down off the mountain. Wren Rhodes was four years old, and the pack strapped to her back stood nearly as tall as she did. She hauled one short leg over the high threshold, then the other. Her four masters waited in a row at the sanctuary gate, and their faces ran from fondness to stone to something close to coming apart. Wren pulled her small shoulders back and marched up until she stood square in front of them. Roarke Vance, the eldest of the four, kept his face grim. “Don’t stand around arguing with people down there. Somebody gives you lip, you hit them.” “Roarke. We’ve been over this. You don’t tell a kid that.” Warrick Kell, the second of them, cut him off with a tired sigh and crouched down to her level. “Wren, kids don’t go around hitting people. If you really can’t help yourself, let them swing first. That way it’s self-defense.” Wren didn’t follow all of that, but she nodded anyway, very seriously. Griff Maddox, round-bellied and cheerful, was cramming a sack of food into a pack that had no room left in it. He kept talking while he shoved. “Eat your meals on time down there. Do people a good turn when you can and you’ll bank a little Grace. And if you run out of money, go find my brother. He’s loaded. Spend whatever you want.” Corvin Vale, the last of the four, never used two words where one would do, and he did not start now. “Call me if you get stuck.” Wren nodded along and filed every instruction away, though her nose wrinkled at the part about Grace. That one she did not care for. She waved a chubby hand at all four of them anyway, and her small voice came out solemn. “Okay, I’m going!” The four of them watched her start down the trail. The pack swallowed her almost whole. Wren didn’t seem to feel the weight at all. Her short legs kept churning until the path took her out of sight, and only then did the four of them look away. What passed between them after that was pure cold contempt. “That’s that. Let’s split up, and next time we pass on the road, we’ve never met.” “Can’t happen soon enough.” “Four years of putting up with you three old goats. That’s plenty.” They turned in four directions without a second glance, and within a breath every one of them had vanished. ***** The mountain road flattened out at the bottom. Wren studied the black sedan parked there, and then Wade Brooks, sent up the mountain to drive her down. She tipped her head back and blinked up at him. “Hey, mister. Are you here to pick me up?” Wren was making this trip to meet the family she had been taken from, and to claim a surname nobody up at Greyhollow had ever used. Four years earlier, the Rhodes family of Crestmont had a baby girl and registered her as Wren Rhodes, and a business rival arranged to have that baby swapped in the hospital. They had only learned a few days ago that they were raising someone else’s daughter. The search that followed led them to Wren. Wade had gone slack-jawed the moment she came down the path alone under a pack bigger than she was. The shock wore off fast, and impatience took its place. “What took you so long? That’s it? Just you?” Where are the adults? They let a kid this small walk down alone? He kept the complaint behind his teeth. Remembering how Victor Rhodes, who had sent him out here, talked about this newly found daughter, he dropped what little politeness he had left and answered flat. “Ms. Daisy Rhodes took a bad spill this morning. Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes are both home with her, so neither of them could come out.” Wade pulled the back door open and jerked his chin at her. “All right, hop in.” Wren peered into the car, then up at the sour face above her. She didn’t climb in. She asked a question instead. “Hey, mister, did you see a kid on the way over?” That threw Wade off. “Yeah, some kid on the road wanted a ride. How’d you know that?” A friend of hers? It wouldn’t have been strange. That kid had looked about the same age as this one. Out in the middle of nowhere, kids that age ran around in packs. The thought stuck with him, and even though Wren looked scrubbed and rosy, Wade decided her clothes had to be filthy. He would run the car through a wash as soon as he dropped her off. Not just anybody got to ride in his back seat. He was still stewing on it when Wren spoke again. “So did you say yes?” The question wore his patience through. “No! I was in a hurry to get you. I don’t have time to pick up strangers. Now get in, would you? It’ll be dark before we’re back.” He would have picked her up and set her in the back seat himself if he thought he could get away with it. His hand had barely moved when Wren spun toward the empty seat behind him. Her small face went hard, and her voice came out fierce. “You heard him! No ride! Now beat it!” Wade froze. Before he could make sense of it, cold air rolled out of the back of the car. It was colder than anything an air conditioner put out, and it went straight across the back of his neck. His spine prickled. Then what she had said caught up with him. The chill climbed from the soles of his feet, and within a second he was covered in goose bumps. “M-Ms. Wren Rhodes… who were you talking to?” Nothing was left of his impatience. His voice shook so badly the words came apart. Wren gave Wade a puzzled look, then waved a small hand like it was nothing. “It’s fine. I chased it off.” She lifted one leg to climb into the back. Wade understood now exactly what she meant by it, and his blood ran cold. His lips started to tremble. Then he saw her about to get in, and something lurched in his chest. He caught himself and spoke fast. “Ms. Wren Rhodes, hang on a second. I’ve got a booster seat in the trunk. Let me get it in for you. It’s a lot comfier.” The eager warmth in his voice bore no resemblance to how he had spoken a minute earlier. Wren tilted her head and watched Wade hustle back and forth. She let him lift her into the seat and buckle the straps. Her small body sank into the padding, and she blinked. This weird chair is kind of comfy. So why didn’t he bring it out in the first place? It must be because I chased off the ghost that was following him. Yep. I’m great! ***** The car rocked along for a little over three hours before it pulled up in front of a house near the center of the city. Wade parked, hopped out, and hurried around to unbuckle her himself. He stood close to six feet, and his voice had gone soft and syrupy. “Here we are, Ms. Wren Rhodes! Hop on down, I’ve got the bag.” He reached into the trunk and grabbed the pack, which stood as tall as she did, with one hand. It didn’t budge. He got his other hand on it and finally hauled it out. The weight of the thing left him staring. He had not forgotten watching a four-year-old carry that same pack down a mountain by herself. Ms. Wren Rhodes is not a normal kid. He trailed her up the walk with the pack, a step behind the whole way, his face full of respect. Marla Doyle, who ran the Rhodes household, was already waiting at the door. She knew Wren was coming home today, and she had spent the morning fussing over Daisy, who had taken a fall out of nowhere. The look she gave Wren was not friendly. This one might be the real Rhodes daughter, but Marla had watched Daisy grow up, and that counted for more. This wild little thing off a mountain is not taking what belongs to Daisy. “So this is her? Look at the state of you. Ms. Daisy Rhodes picks up every bug going around, and we’re not tracking outside germs into this house. Wade, run her around to the mudroom. Get her cleaned up and changed before she comes in.” Marla ran the household and happened to be a cousin on Victor’s mother’s side, and she had been giving orders under that roof for years. Being the real daughter bought Wren no courtesy from her. Most kids would have shrunk under that. Wren was not most kids. Anyone who gave her a dirty look would get that look slapped right off their face. She stepped forward to answer, but someone behind her got there first. “Marla, are you out of your mind? This is her house. She’s walking into her own home. Who asked you?” Wade’s face was hard when he said it. Then he looked down at Wren and his voice went sweet again. “There’s nothing dirty about Ms. Wren Rhodes, is there?” Wren blinked up at him and nodded, very serious. Right. I’m not dirty. Across from them, Marla had gone completely blank. What just happened? Had Wade turned into a completely different person after going out? Wade hadn’t changed. He was just returning a favor and smart enough to know which way the wind was blowing. Wren was clearly not ordinary, and only a fool would pick a fight with her. Nothing she said was landing, and Marla opened her mouth to go at him again. A woman’s voice cut in from the doorway, soft and cool at once. “Wade’s right, Marla. Since when does my daughter need your say-so to walk into her own house?”