by Petra Landon
He closed the door to take a seat across the table from her. “Luis Beltran had a conversation with Sara.”
Tasia blinked, taken aback by the comment. It had been over a week since her chat with Luis. “And?” she prompted eagerly, hoping that she’d made the right call.
“She seems happier” he acknowledged slowly as if weighed down by the news.
Tasia breathed a silent sigh of relief. She had gambled by going to Luis — a calculated risk but a gamble, nonetheless. And she was mighty glad that it had paid off. From Hawk’s admission, it appeared that Luis had cleared the air with Sara.
It took a few moments for it to sink in that Hawk did not share her relief. Instead, he seemed uncharacteristically somber and preoccupied.
“This is good news, Hawk” she prodded him. “Isn’t it?”
He nodded mutely, seemingly agreeing with her.
Tasia fixed her expressive gray eyes on him. With a trip on the horizon, she wondered whether he was uneasy about his twin. Not a member of the investigation, Sara would stay behind in San Francisco without Duncan, Hawk, or even Atsá to watch over her.
“Luis clearing the air makes me realize how unhappy she’s been” he confessed, the dark eyes shadowed.
She studied him across the table. “Sara is strong, Hawk. Don’t underestimate her. The Pack might not come as easily to her as it does to you, but she’s no novice at this.”
His eyes flashed to her. “I thought things were better. She’s been happier since you joined us. And with all the guests at the Lair, Sara’s sort of gone under the radar for the Pack.”
“I’ve been here a few months” she said gently. “Sara’s not as unhappy as you believe she is. There are aspects of a Pack she does not enjoy, of course. But she knows how to deal with it.”
“Don’t worry so, Hawk” Tasia persisted, as he remained silent. “Maybe, in the past, she’s felt constrained by the Pack. But now, she has friends to let off steam with.”
Hawk sighed. “I know, Tas. But sometimes, I worry about her.”
Tasia could not blame Hawk — she shared his concerns when it came to his twin. But if the past few months had shown her anything, it was that sometimes, tough circumstances were precisely what pushed you to find the inner steel. Her time with the Shifters, challenging as it was, had forced her out of her shell. Sara’s experiences might do the same for her. Hawk’s twin had a very strong sense of self and how she saw the world and her place in it. Also, Sara was not alone. This Tasia had taken heed of. Sara might be different from her Shifter peers, but her Alpha, Were-Alpha and were-pack mates appreciated her for who she was.
“Occasionally, she might hanker for something different” Tasia contended to Sara’s concerned brother. “Who doesn’t? It does not mean that Sara doesn’t or can’t appreciate what the Pack offers her.”
A nudge here or an ally there could occasionally help pave the way for Sara. And that was what Tasia had set out to do. Now, she focused on setting Hawk’s mind at ease about his sister. Tasia knew what would strike a chord with him. Both Hawk and his twin were fans of their Were-Alpha.
“Duncan is one of the most perceptive people I know. When I first came to the Lair, who do you think he encouraged me to hang with? He said there was much I could learn from Sara. Would he send me to her if he believed that she couldn’t cut it?”
As she had known, her words did the trick. Hawk’s expression eased.
“Sara holds her own, Hawk, in a way that other Shifters sometimes have a hard time accepting.”
“She does” Hawk agreed. “This Luis business threw me off.”
Tasia’s cell beeped loudly to interrupt them.
She glanced at it. “Pack Room now. Sienna says they’re starting early.”
Hawk stood up to make for the door. “Luis told Sara he was in love with our mother.”
The words came out casually, and a gobsmacked Tasia almost stumbled over her own feet. “What … How?”
But Hawk had the door open and Tasia clamped her mouth shut.
He grimaced, ushering her out. “We’re still processing it.”
Upstairs, the Pack Room had been cleared of everyone except the team. The Shifter on sentry duty shut the door behind Hawk and Tasia, sealing off the room from the rest of the Lair. By the fireplace, Sienna, Jason and Duncan were gathered in a huddle around the Alpha. As the door closed, Raoul signaled Sienna to start.
But as they took their places, it was Jason who addressed them. “My apologies for calling everyone in on short notice, but this couldn’t wait. As you know, both Sienna and I have flights to catch in a few hours.”
Tasia exchanged a glance with Hawk, wondering what had changed. They all knew that the Wizards were scheduled to be back by tomorrow afternoon before the team set off for Europe.
“Trev … Guardian Bergdahl requested that we not make copies of the records and Sienna agreed to it” Jason announced.
The Shifters in the room took the news in stride but Tasia noted that the Ancients seemed somewhat nonplussed by it.
“It means we share one copy of the documents” Sienna interjected, waving the sheet of paper in her hand. “Of these, the only one of interest is the Seer’s interpretation. The rest is merely house-keeping by the Guardians.”
She glanced around the room. “Take this as a blanket invitation — you’re welcome to peruse it whenever you want. I’m never far from the Lair. And while I’m away, the document will be with Duncan. This way, everyone has a chance to look it over in detail.”
“What does the Seer say about his prophecy, Sienna?” Maartje interrupted, tamping down her impatience. To the Shifters, this matter had always been cut and dried, Wizard politics and shenanigans notwithstanding.
Sienna smiled. “I’ll read it aloud, if I may.” Neither Jason nor she had had a chance to peruse it properly yet.
She unfurled the sheet in a room thick with anticipation. Like the others, Tasia found herself on the edge of her seat.
“Three Chosen, sisters borne of the same mother and disparate Magick fathers, will make a stand that fundamentally changes how Chosen look at their magic. Fate will play a heavy hand, but so will another Magick, the catalyst who brings the sisters together to play their part in upending Chosen attitudes and mores held fast to for generations. The chetariki plays a pivotal role. As the custodian and the heart of the prophecy, she challenges Chosen status quo in more ways than one. But the threat to centuries-old tradition will bring forth powerful detractors who benefit from the old ways and find their influence imperiled by this challenge to Chosen canons. A champion will rise to defend the custodian and the sisters — a man compelled by the past, driven to hold the line and protect the future.”
Sienna’s voice died away but the silence in the vast room was absolute. Until Roman broke it.
“We hit the nail on the head regarding the rainmaker — the Oracle calls her the custodian of The Prophecy. But this is the first official reference to a Chosen that will defend the custodian. Sounds like Lady B called the role of a champion correctly in Portland.”
“There’s more” Sienna said quietly.
“Read on, please” the Alpha directed.
“Despite inheriting a rich legacy of unusual and rare magic, the sisters will be outsiders in their respective ways. Estranged from the Chosen in varying degrees until united together, only then will they reconcile and take their rightful place amongst their brethren.”
Sienna stumbled over the words, going noticeably pale as she read aloud about the sisters. Though she recovered quickly to continue on, Jason shot her a look that revealed his concern. Tasia wondered if Sienna’s emotions were stirred by the father whose notes she perused or by the words that referred to her in the third person.
“One sister will allow a family legacy to dictate her actions and shape her future, turning her back on her kind to fulfill what she believes to be her destiny. One sister will uphold tradition and embrace her destiny by distancing herself from
her kind for love. And one sister will revile and hate the Chosen, going to great lengths to thwart her destiny and walk away from her kind.”
Sienna glanced up, her eyes flicking to where Duncan sat in his chair by the mantel. He seemed to get the message. The English Shifter strode to the Wizard, to take the sheet of paper from her without a word. Sienna made for the nearest chair to sink into it, white-faced and wan.
Duncan continued from where she’d tapered off, his plummy accent pronounced. “The custodian, a Chosen with immense magic, must overcome a complicated and troubled history. A White Mage, isolated and alone, estranged from her kind by circumstances, her path to legitimacy in the eyes of the Chosen will be a long and rocky road. In the end, despite the travails, it is her heart that will guide her to make her choice.”
Tasia drew a breath as murmurs breached the silence of the Pack Room. With the reference to White Mage and talk of a struggle to regain legitimacy among the Chosen, she feared that Lady Bethesda had a right to her delusions — that a calculating and manipulative Guardian, escaping her past and bent on consolidating power over the Chosen, would drive The Prophecy.
Duncan ignored the murmurs sweeping the room, to read on. “The champion, acclaimed and feared by all factions with a reputation for unparalleled power among his kind, is a man condemned to a life-long struggle with his conflicting identities and torn between his two realities, even more so than his brethren. To ally with the custodian, he must go against Chosen tradition and his own beliefs, rise above the past and his own history, as well as break his vows and every tenet he believes in. Undeterred by the challenges, he will set aside his prejudices to protect her interests, even at the cost of the code he lives by. An implausible, improbable and eye-opening collaboration, his alliance with the custodian will belie his reputation and conventional wisdom alike, to stun the Chosen. But despite the setbacks, misunderstandings and obstacles, the alliance will endure and help shed light on the mistakes of the past and the corrosiveness of Chosen tribalism and dogma.”
Duncan looked up. “That’s it from the Seer.”
Before the room could erupt, Raoul steered the post-mortem. “Atsá, what do you reckon?” he asked, putting the spotlight on the venerable, experienced and knowledgeable Shifter.
“The Oracle talks of five Chosen as critical to the events” the Were-Alpha responded in his measured and thoughtful manner. “The three sisters, a custodian and a champion to shield the others. The rainmaker, who he calls the heart of The Prophecy, is clearly a woman. My impression from the depiction of the male champion is that he’s Wyr.”
Elisabetta confidently seconded Atsá. “The two realities and the reference to conflicting identities, like his brethren, is a dead giveaway that it’s a Wyr. The Oracle is clearly talking about a Shifter’s beotan.”
From the mien of the other Shifters in the room, Tasia recognized that there was little disagreement on this. Nevertheless, she found the hints about the Chosen, characterized as the defender of The Prophecy, very puzzling. The Seer’s depiction of the champion seemed ambiguous to her, less straightforward than what the others believed. On the other hand, the passage about the custodian and chetariki was alarmingly convincing to Tasia.
Maartje drew Roman’s attention. “I’m confused by the Mage reference. Did the Ancients have a White Mage in the past?”
Roman shook his head decisively. “I have never heard of a White Mage in our history, Maartje.”
He turned to the Navajo Were-Alpha, a Wyr notable for his knowledge of the Chosen. “Atsá?”
“Not to my knowledge” the Shifter confirmed without hesitation.
“Perhaps, a play on another Mage the Chosen know only too well” Duncan suggested. “If so, it implies a Magick who’s a mirror image of the notorious Black Mage.”
“The Black Mage is infamous for leading the Wizards down a dark path” Luis cited somberly. “What is the Seer suggesting here?”
“Maybe, that the custodian is a powerful Wizard who will lead her kind down a different path than the Black Mage” Jason proposed, with an underlying hope in his voice that was hard to miss.
Nandini, hitherto silent, flashed a glance at Sienna who still looked shell-shocked.
“Much as I want to discount it, it appears that Lady Bethesda has cause to believe what she does” she directed at the Alpha.
Raoul acknowledged Nandini’s remark but remained silent, his usual inscrutable mask unpunctured. Tasia allowed her eyes to scrutinize him, wondering what he made of the interpretation. Though he was hard to read, she’d become a little more proficient at discerning the small hints and cues. But for once, she came up blank. If he thought the Oracle’s words were cause for concern, he hid it successfully. Disquieted and apprehensive, Tasia held her tongue. Even Hawk, usually very involved in these discussions, was abnormally quiet, choosing to focus on the back and forth between the others.
“You mean that she is the rainmaker?” Simeonov said baldly, joining the conversation.
“And that Faoladh is the champion who will sacrifice his beliefs and go against his own code to promote her cause” Roman added gravely, quoting from the interpretation. “I have to agree with Nandini. This doesn’t bode well at all.”
“I don’t believe it, Roman” Elisabetta’s voice rang out vehemently in the silence. “Faoladh will never support the likes of her.”
This time, Sienna spoke up to add her voice to Elisabetta’s. “I don’t believe it either. There’s another explanation.”
“There has to be” she added, under her breath.
CHAPTER 5
Ancient history
They set off for Europe late in the evening. Scheduled for a refueling pit stop at New York, the jet would then fly on to Corfu. The Lair had been frenetic with activity all day. Owen O’Brien, a Were-Alpha Tasia saw infrequently at the Lair, was to be in charge in the Alpha’s absence. Hawk, restored to his cheerful self, had grasped the opportunity to barricade Tasia in the Pack room downstairs and share some of the details from Luis’ conversation with Sara. It had struck Tasia how much old history was interwoven into Pack dynamics. The old were-packs from San Francisco and northern California had been folded into the larger Pack when Faoladh had created the new Shifter paradigm. And given that Shifters lived much longer lives than the average human, old associations, feuds and histories continued to live on in the new version of the Pack. In the afternoon, Tasia had lunched with some of her Shifter friends from Hawk’s were-pack. And been disquieted to observe fresh evidence of healing bruises on young Evgeny’s face. She was determined to question Hawk about it when the opportunity arose. Traveling with the Pack allowed them few chances to be private on the road.
They flew the same jet Tasia had taken with the Pack before. But this was a long haul flight. Thus, unlike before, the passengers all came with luggage for the week-long sojourn. Simeonov handled the luggage and Elisabetta assigned seats on the flight, grouping people in twos, so everyone could stretch their legs. On shorter flights, they tended to congregate around a few seats.
“This is nice” Jason remarked to Duncan across the aisle, stretching his legs out before him. “For once, I have nothing to do but show up. Everything’s been taken care of.”
Tasia noted that the seat beside Jason was empty. Duncan and Roman occupied the chairs across the aisle from the Guardian. Two rows behind him, Nandini and Sienna had been assigned seats, across the aisle from Hawk and Tasia. When Atsá and Maartje boarded the flight, Elisabetta directed the duo to chairs two rows in front of Jason.
“Welcome to Pack hospitality, Guardian” Elisabetta proclaimed suavely. “We aim to please.”
For once, there was no sarcasm in the beautiful Were-Alpha’s voice.
Jason turned his head to direct a grin at her and to Tasia’s surprise, Elisabetta responded with a smile. As usual, the Were-Alpha was impeccably dressed, without a hair out of place. Elisabetta was softening — at least towards the Guardian. It was hard to dislike the soft-spo
ken and equable Jason LaRue.
Beside her, Hawk pulled on his headphones to lose himself in music. Across the aisle, Sienna seemed immersed in a book while Nandini readied to take a nap. Soon, Luis finished up in the galley where he’d been conversing with the pilot, to take a seat behind Tasia and Hawk. Yet, Elisabetta continued to chat idly by the door with Simeonov. Outside, in the darkness, Tasia saw the headlights of a vehicle pull up on the tarmac. It was pouring cats and dogs. The Alpha strode out, in his usual jeans and tee, to make for the stairs, an overnight case and a laptop bag with him. There was a murmur of conversation from Elisabetta, before she and Simeonov took their seats across the aisle from Atsá and Maartje. Tasia heard the door slide shut and the lock click into place. The co-pilot swung into the cabin, his eyes on the Alpha. He must have received the signal, for he disappeared back into the cockpit.
The Alpha strolled forward, water streaming off him. “Strap in” he directed laconically, before striding into the stateroom.
Tasia checked her seat belt. She’d once been caught in the aisle without it. The Shifters mostly ignored the directive since their bodies could take a lot of damage. But Jason made sure to strap in. Curiously, it was Roman who drew Sienna’s attention to her half-sister, now dozing in the seat beside her. The Wizard reached across to buckle Nandini in. By now, the engines had come to life, their throbbing hum unmistakable. The Alpha strode out in dry clothes and damp hair to settle into the seat by Jason. Within minutes, they were taxiing to the runway, though it would be a half hour before they took off.
“Any news from San Diego?” Roman drew Jason’s attention across the aisle. The Guardian had returned a few hours ago from his overnight trip.
