They’d agreed in the cab that the best and safest plan would be for Riley to go into the diner first, alone, and scope out the situation. Riley knew Dash had agreed, that he’d heard him say the words.  

And yet, the cab had not even come to a full stop before Dash flung his door open and raced towards the diner, leaving Riley to throw an unknown amount of money at the driver before scrambling after the more nimble younger man. In a fair race, Riley could have outstripped Dash with ease, but Riley was barely hitting the pavement by the time Dash had wrenched the diner door open, vanishing from sight.  

Cursing little brothers everywhere, Riley tried to make a slightly less conspicuous entrance, but his efforts proved unnecessary; there were only a few occupied tables in the small dining room, and none of them held Gabe, Saben or any other identifiable associates. Dash had vanished too, and for a moment Riley felt alarm, until the door of the men’s room swung open and the troublemaker himself reappeared.  

“When you gotta go, right?” Dash joked to the cashier, who looked completely unfazed by the tattooed tornado who’d gone ripping through her establishment just a few moments before.  Unfazed was not how Dash looked when he turned back to Riley.

“He’s not here,” he whispered, a tremor in his voice.  

“But he was,” Riley told him, hoping he infused the word with some confidence. “Uh, excuse me,” he said, turning back to the cashier. “Did you see this man this morning?” He showed her the picture Dash had texted him.  

“Hon, when the breakfast rush hits I wouldn’t recognize my own mother,” she said with a shrug. Something in Riley’s expression must have changed her mind, because she sighed and peered closer.  

“Actually, he might’ve been here,” she said, scratching her chin. “Had a guy pop in and go right to the brochure rack. Just stood there a minute then left. Didn’t buy or say anything, which is weird, but... yeah, it could’ve been him.”

“Which brochure did he take?” Dash asked, unable to hide the desperation in his voice. She shrugged, unmoved.  

“Kid, I’ve got better things to do than monitor the freebies,” she said.  

“Thanks anyway,” Riley said, dragging Dash away before his short temper could make an appearance.  

“Fucking fuck fuck,” Dash muttered, his frustration seeping out. “He was here, he was here, and we fucking missed him.  What do we even-- What are you doing?”

Riley had steered them to the brochure rack and was now studying it closely. In the age of smartphones, most of the pamphlet slots were full and unwanted, and only occasionally treated to a perfunctory dusting. Still, Riley examined each row carefully, hoping against hope that Gabe had left them some clue.  

“An x-marks the spot would be super fucking helpful right about now,” Dash murmured, leaning closer as he caught on.  

More than a few brochures were rumpled, as if they’d been handled briefly before the activity-seeker thought better and stuffed it back. But in the bottom row Riley spotted one leaflet with a corner carefully folded. He reached for it, inhaling sharply at the brief spark of magic that flared up at his touch.  

“Dash,” he said, holding out the brochure. “Feel this-- I think-- I think Gabe actually left a clue.”

Dash’s eyes were wide as he studied it. “Do you think-- like, is this where he went next? Covenant Square Steakhouse?”

“One way to find out,” Riley said, and this time they ran for the door together.

***

“What the hell?” Dash said, slamming his shoulder against the locked door. Riley pulled him back, worried about the attention they might attract. They’d arrived at their destination only to find the steakhouse closed and locked up tight-- hardly surprising, given the early hour, but they hadn’t uncovered any further clues or markings from Gabriel. Peering in through the windows revealed what seemed to be a completely empty restaurant.  

Dash wrenched his shoulders free of Riley’s grasp, his gray eyes crackling with frustration.  

“Can’t you do something? Pick the lock, get us in there?”

“I’m not breaking into a building. I don’t think there’s anyone in there, anyways.”

“Then what is even the fucking point of you!" Dash exploded, kicking the door for emphasis. He winced, exhaling deeply. "I just can’t-- where is he? Are we supposed to just wait here? Is he gonna come back for fucking dinner? Or maybe he didn’t even mark that stupid brochure and this is actually just a wild fucking--”

As Dash had ranted, Riley had pulled the brochure back out and was studying it carefully. The tip of the folded corner lay right at the gap between Covenant and Square. Could it have been intentional? Riley looked up, scanning the block.  

“Maybe we’re in the wrong place,” he said. “Instead of Covenant Square Steakhouse, maybe he meant--”

“Oh fucking hell,” Dash said, as they both turned to stare across the block. The front facade towered over its neighbors, gold lettering glinting in the morning sunlight: Covenant Square Station.