TORQUEL en Sahon flew from tree to tree, changing forms as he followed the alpha from elder to elder. Cardinal to jay to thrush to woodpecker to mourning dove.
He took a wren’s form in the clearing where a couple of elders supervised young boys as they lay twigs and sticks in the fire pit in preparation for the evening storytelling.
If he’d had human lips, he would have smiled. The paths laid centuries upon centuries ago were joining, becoming entwined, with this daughter serving as both catalyst for change and knot binding the threads of the weave together.
As it was becoming in the shadowlands, so would it become in this world of the living, with Weres mingling freely, irrespective of type.
It had to be so.
What good was an army constantly at risk of being at war with itself?
The irony of it wasn’t lost on Torquel. The outcasts these Weres shunned so thoroughly already mixed freely in brothels and hidden cities.
Koren’s progress toward the elders was halted by the Jaguar female Melina. Torquel took flight at the sight of her, landing on a low branch close to where they stood.
Melina pulled her hand from her pocket. Opened it to reveal the Wainwright token. “She uses witchcraft on Aryck. This is why he’s become enthralled with a human. I took it from her pocket while she was bathing.”
Koren took the blackened pentacle from Melina’s palm. “Where is the healer now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find her. Keep an eye on her without her being aware of you.”
He closed his fist around the token. “Don’t speak to anyone else about this.”
Melina gave a solemn nod but as she turned away to do as the alpha ordered, a satisfied smile emerged.
She bears watching, Torquel thought, but followed Koren to the shaman’s house, becoming a small breeze passing through the doorway as Nahuatl ushered the alpha inside. Then a mouse whose black fur blended perfectly with the dark shadow of descending dusk.
Without prelude Koren passed the token to Nahuatl. “The human healer carries this.”
Nahuatl showed no surprise at the sight of it. “Phaedra found it when she washed Rebekka’s clothing. She brought it to me then. It is nothing. A sign of alliance, no more.”
“An alliance with witches. They are our enemies.”
“Some of them. Not the ones who gave the healer this token. Or at least they are not our enemies at the moment. You have been out among humans. Their world is painted in shades of gray, not the black and white of ours.”
“You approached the ancestors after Phaedra brought you the token?”
“Yes.”
When the shaman didn’t say more, Koren turned his back as if hiding the shame of what he said next. “She’s bewitched Aryck. I assumed responsibility for her protection while she’s in our lands and ordered him to stay away from her before he ends up outcast because of her. He believes the ancestors want her among us, as his mate. He intends to speak to you about it.”
Nahuatl stepped forward and placed a hand on Koren’s shoulder. “When he comes, I will tell him the ancestors have already spoken to me on this matter. If she survives an outcast’s trial, then the pack can claim her as one of their own.”
Koren turned to face the shaman. “Do you think she will survive it?”
Nahuatl shrugged. “I know only that years ago one of the ancestors showed me the witches’ token and told me the day would come when a human arrived in Jaguar lands bearing it. And should the pack wish it, the human could be tested for worthiness and made one of us.”
Koren’s hand clenched and unclenched. “In this moment it seems like our way of life is under assault. The humans invade Coyote lands. Disease struck the Elk and they carried it to the Wolves. Aryck argues for an alliance among the Weres and the Wolf enforcer favors it as well.”
“This is news.” Nahuatl indicated chairs covered in bison fur. “Let me hear it in detail and with your permission share it with the Lion shaman. We are to meet later at the edge of the shadowlands. The pride’s grand matriarch wishes to speak with Rebekka. If you allow it, the Lion outcast and several others will come here tomorrow and take her back with them if she’s willing.”
“I’ll tell those on patrol to meet the Lions and escort them to camp.”
Good, Torquel thought, abandoning the mouse form in a swirl of air.
Outside the shaman’s cabin he became an owl lifting in flight, leaving the Jaguar camp in search of the grim evidence left behind in Caphriel’s game.