TORQUEL en Sahon took flight as Rebekka drowsed in the sun. This daughter pleased him greatly.
Her strength lay not only in her gift but in her compassion for others. She was a survivor, and yet it hadn’t hardened her.
There was worse to come now. Death that couldn’t be prevented.
For the first time he wished he could call a halt to her testing and reveal himself to her. He wanted to acknowledge her with the writing of her name in the Book of the Djinn.
He couldn’t. Despite his standing in the House of the Cardinal.
This test of value to the Djinn wasn’t Rebekka’s alone.
Torquel landed on a branch close to where the shaman, healer, and pack alpha stood near the challenge circle. He ruffled red and black feathers as he settled to listen.
“It won’t anger the ancestors if she remains on our lands,” Nahuatl said, and Torquel smiled inwardly.
There were ties to the Djinn among the Were ancestors, just as Djinn blood ran through many of the alpha lines. It had been diluted over time, but it still manifested in the ability to speak mentally to those sharing a family bond, to shift form quickly and have greater endurance.
Addai had done his work well in convincing the shaman to listen and accept what must have seemed like the words of malicious spirits. Death didn’t necessarily change the nature of those who crossed over to live in the Were shadowlands. Troublemakers existed, those who took delight in meddling.
The alpha’s expression didn’t change but Torquel could read Koren’s tension. He worried for his son’s fate yet he was trapped by duty to the pack. “How long do you need?”
Phaedra pursed her lips. “A day, perhaps two, to memorize what’s in the journal. That assumes she won’t be called away to heal or her voice doesn’t fail her from reading the passages.”
A muscle twitched in Koren’s cheek. “Two days. She leaves our lands sooner if you finish before then. She remains longer only if it’s absolutely necessary.”
Wolf howls drifted into the clearing from nearby, a song of woe and entreaty that rose and fell without cessation to become a haunting melody.
It brought Aryck to his father’s side. “Go,” Koren said. “Choose two others and take them with you.”
Torquel let his physical form dissolve in a swirl of air that made the oak leaves rustle softly. So Caphriel’s moves in this game begin to play out.