Up alleys, down roads, across streets, the pair was halfway across Mystic before Catskill knew it. She scrambled down a side street towards an old pharmacy. That ought to be enough distance from Artemis for now. Not caring about Gale, Catskill came to a halt. She gingerly removed Trace from her back and laid her in a sitting position against a wall. She cringed; Trace’s furs were stained red and close to being soaked through. “How’re you doing?” asked Catskill. She swallowed.