Chapter 4
“Not years.”
As Robin drove away from the cabin with Magnus Renegade at his side, through the woods, down the twisty, bumpy road, he thought of Hendrix and those words. A cassette tape was playing—the truck was that old—because the only radio station that would come in hadn’t gone back to playing music yet. White-knuckling the steering wheel, Robin was more agitated than normal. The road was a mess after so much rain, but that wasn’t why.
“Ridin’ in the truck, Maggie?” Robin said for the fifth time. The good thing about dogs, one of many, was that they still got excited about their favorite things, even when they’d done them, even when their master asked if they were enjoying it, over and over again.
Robin got to the foot of his driveway, to the intersection at the end of the
