HARRY WAS INTENT UPON returning to the rock shelter and embarking upon the plan the pack had cooked up without me. But the painter had told me to follow my heart.
My heart said: Enter the cave. Find Jim Kelter. Ditch Blackburn. Figure out how to use the stone sculpture I still clutched in one hand.
That was so simple I hadn’t even needed to use my thumb while counting. And, okay, so the final two bullet points were a trifle slippery, but I was sure they’d coalesce once I dealt with the first part.
So I closed my eyes and visualized where the cave’s back entrance might be in relation to my current location. The effort involved an imaginary trek backwards from the rock shelter to the painted cavern then forward along the path the cave woman had stumbled through with werewolves in pursuit.
