Give me the boy.

Terror seized Diana’s heart as she thought of handing Henry over to the man impersonating her late husband. Was this all just a nightmare, and a ploy to give him the child How many times had superstition and folklore told her of child-snatching demons, or —

The urgency of his voice whipped through her panicking, and Diana flinched, staring at him in horror. But there was no way she could run and guide them there with a boy in her arms. It was hard enough navigating over cobblestones sometimes, and took all the recall she had to remember her finishing training to keep an elegant stride. Of course, there was nothing elegant about running from homicidal beasts, but there was no getting around the fact that the man in front of her would be better off carrying her son than she did. Her hand came up to cradle the back of Henry’s curls and she whispered to him hurried assurances that she would be with him all the way but needed to give him to the stranger. Cautiously, painfully, Diana relinquished Henry over; all the more reason for them to hurry.

Now it was her turn to seize his hand, and she did so with a vice-like grip. Wand in the other hand, she looked around to try and determine where they were. “This way,” she breathed, and took off.