She looks like she wants to laugh, and extends a hand to me. Deciding to do what’s natural, I take her hand and pull her in for a hug. She feels like pure joy in my arms. I wonder if that’s how I feel to her. “Are you still worried?” I ask.

She leans back and looks at me, amused. She shakes her head. “No, somehow I got distracted last night. And this morning I poured all my worry into coming up with a plan.”

Pulling away from me, she squats down next to the water. The moment I could have kissed her has passed—she’s reverted back to all-business Juneau and doesn’t seem the kissy type—and I’m left with a stab of regret. Mainly over the fact that I wish I could take her back to the tent and see if the magical effects were a figment of my extremely happy imagination or if the sparks and fireworks and electrical shocks were actually real. Although last night wasn’t my first, it was definitely the only time sex had been a pyrotechnic extravaganza.

And then it occurs to me: This could be part of the earth magic. The Yara. Juneau and I hadn’t been alone. “The force that binds all living things,” or however the hell Juneau describes it, had been in the tent with us. And though it’s a freakily bizarre idea, it’s also kind of hot. Juneau interrupts this enticing train of thought by pointing to something in the river.

“Can you see the picture on the water?” she asks, and points to a flat stretch of water cascading off a rock and reflecting the morning sun. I focus on it, and it’s like finding shapes in clouds: I can see colors reflected in it, forms moving around, but nothing precise. There’s nothing there, I tell myself. I shake my head.

“It’s okay,” she says. “I wasn’t expecting you to. Just wanted to be sure. What I see is the area where my clan is.” She gestures toward the patch of still water. “Far from their group of huts—but I can’t tell exactly how far—there’s a huge mansion-like house. And in front of it are some camouflaged guards, like the ones who were with Whit.”

She peers intently at the water, her forehead creasing in concern. “But this is the weird part. In another area of the fenced-in space it looks like there are wild animals roaming around.” She turns to me. “Do they have lions in New Mexico?”

“They probably have coyotes like we do in California and maybe cougars. But lions . . . I doubt it.”

Juneau purses her lips and looks back at the water. “No, I definitely see a couple of lions. And a zebra.”

“A zebra? Are you sure the water’s showing you New Mexico?” I ask, trying not to sound skeptical.

“Positive,” she replies, and turns back to me. “It’s all part of a huge fenced-in area that encloses the desertlike land where my clan is, stretching all of the way up into faraway hills with sparse trees, where the animals are.”

“Okay,” I concede. “So what’s the plan?”

Juneau weaves her fingers through mine and I try to ignore the current running between us and concentrate on what she’s saying as she leads me away from the water, back toward the camp. “There are armed guards driving around in jeeps,” she explains, as we edge by a bush of prickly leaves that sting me through my jeans. “So we can’t just scale the fence and wander through. But we could follow the fence around the perimeter until we find my clan. Their huts are definitely visible from the fence—I’ve seen it behind them in all of my Readings. We need to get there first, though, and see it for ourselves before we plan our strategy.”

I stop and rub my stinging leg. “You’re saying ‘we’ as if I’m going to be a part of the strategizing,” I point out. “After all of the stupid things I’ve done, you’re going to trust me to help you come up with a plan?” Okay, I know I’m digging for compliments, but maybe after all we’ve been through I need a bit of encouragement.

Juneau lifts an eyebrow. “You’ve learned to make a fire, pitch a tent, and cook since I met you. And you didn’t do too badly at target practice yesterday. At this point I’m considering you an asset.”

“Why, thank you,” I reply, satisfied now that I’ve gotten the back pat I needed.

“Plus, I’ll bet you’re good for more than that,” she adds. “I saw metal boxes at several places along the top of the fences. With lights on them. Do you know what they do?”

“That probably means the fences are electrified,” I say.

“As in, if you touch it, it shocks you?” she asks.

“Exactly.”

Juneau brushes a branch out of her way and turns to me. “See. You’re a definite asset. Yes, we’re going to be creeping around in the wilderness, which is my domain. But we’re doing it in a modern world that I still haven’t gotten close to understanding. Your domain. Like my Seattle oracle so prophetically put it, I need you just as much as you need me.” And she gives me a smile that fills up all the empty places inside me.

We emerge from the trees into our clearing, and Juneau kneels down next to the atlas. “Here’s where the point on Whit’s map was,” she says, tracing a barren-looking area with her finger, and then moving it to the left where some green appears on the map. “It’s not far from where this tree line starts. That’s got to be it. At least, that general area. My clan can’t be too far away. Maybe a three-hour drive.”

Juneau crosses her arms, staring at the map. “Are you okay?” I ask.