The trick was finding Ethan and getting him out. She placed the cup on the sill and reached into her pocket, drawing out the silver cross.
Warmth pulsed through her palm. She clenched her fingers around the cross and closed her eyes, reaching for any images that might lie within the cross's heart.
Nothing.
Ethan was alive, but he was still mind dead. She couldn't connect with him, not through the cross and not through the link.
She opened her eyes, her gaze drawn to the southwest. He was there. And in need of help.
She grabbed a pen, scrawled a note to Ben then grabbed her coat and ran out into the
night.
****
Ethan eased over the enclosure wall and padded quietly toward the exit. Though his thirst was finally sated, he felt no more energetic.
His body had taken a pounding over the last few hours, and it had pushed his natural healing capabilities to the extreme. It would be days before he regained full strength.