The fifth figure, though dressed in jeans and a man’s work shirt, she recognized as Marisol. Paul and Alejandro seemed to be arguing. Paul drew a short stubby pistol from his belt and waved it around. He seemed to be yelling, but all she could hear was the wind. It had picked up suddenly, buffeting the group with tearing, blasting gusts. Catherine sat down, hunching her back against the wind, but she seemed much older and frailer than the last time Arabella had seen her, just a few short days ago.
The vision blanked out as suddenly as it had come, but she had no doubt she had seen either what was happening now or would soon take place. She pushed her pace to equal Zeth’s, feeling the same urgency he showed to get there as fast as they could. A cold futility settled in her belly. Someone w
