Some days this knowledge was easy to live with. Other days not.
He left his quarters with the weariness heavier than ever. So thick and pervasive it sucked the energy from each footstep. A vehicle sat charging at the foot of the corridor. He ignored it in favor of walking, hoping the use of his muscles might calm the fatigue and weight. It did not.
The apartment he’d assigned hisanistaaand Jillian was a two bedroom on the third floor, in the interim section, where guests stayed. Not that he invited guests very often. It was hard to retain secrecy when doors were flung wide and visitors were welcome.
He took the elevator down to the third floor and walked the long, quiet hallway until he reached unit 316. Hisanistaa,who found peace amid the fresh air and wild fragrancies of theBrenahiilo, would hate these cramped, stale accommodations. He needed to find her lodging down in The Neighborhood. Jillian as well, although his shadowle'ven'awouldn’t notice the walls surrounding her. But moving them to The Neighborhood would prove difficult. All the houses in the community were owned and occupied. He would need to persuade someone to move into the interim housing while the women in his life were here.
It was time to build an extra house, or two, for occasions such as these. In the meantime, bribery should settle hisanistaaand shadowle'ven'ainto more suitable accommodations for however long they remained.
The door flew open at his first knock and his mother’s weathered face and silvering hair filled the doorframe. The smell and sound of sizzling bacon wafted out the door.
“Ho'cee.You are back,”she said with a quick up-and-down scan of Wolf’s face. Whatever she saw brought a frown. “Come. Sit. Eat.”
She must have finagled the bacon and carton of eggs sitting on the counter, from the cafeteria. The base cook would provide uncooked food to those who wished to prepare it themselves. Hisanistaabelieved all stress could be erased by a hearty meal, as long as she had prepared it herself. And the meal of her choice was always bacon and eggs.
He waited for her to step aside and walked past her, tensing at the sight of Jillian who was sitting at the square table tucked into the corner of the dining, living area.
“There is a full cafeteria.” He fought to keep his voice casual, while his eyes devoured his shadowle'ven'a.“There is no need for you to cook while you are here. If you call down to the cafeteria, they will deliver whatever food you order.”
A soft click sounded behind him as the door closed.
“We would surely perish of malnourishment if we did such a thing. Now tell me, my dearHo'cee.”The endearment emerged sickly sweet and prickly with annoyance. She was angry about something. “Why did you not tell me yourjavaaneehas been chosen as the nextTaounaha?”
Wolf sighed. There it was. At least hisanistaanever held back her emotions. “This is a recent development...one that is still...evolving.”
His mother returned his sigh…only hers was sharp with frustration. “He refuses the calling, does he not? With theTaounahalost to us, and yourjavaaneerefusing his role, the answers we seek may be lost to us as well.”
Someone had obviously filled her in on the situation. Wolf’s eyebrows rose. She spoke as though they were the only one with stakes in theTaounaha’sabsence. All theHee'woo'nee,from the youngest to oldest, had a stake in this situation. Their very existence hung in the balance.
Yes, Jillian’sheschrmalclaiming remained unanswered. As did Gracie’sHo'ceegift. But he would find the answers they needed. These animal clan gifts must be connected to the nanobotwanatesa.The timing of the spirit claimings could not be a coincidence.
Hisanistaaslid past him on her way to the pan sizzling on the stove. She used a fork to pull the bacon from the pan, piling the strips on a paper-towel-covered plate. Her hands were quick and annoyed as she cracked eggshells and dropped their innards into the hot pan. The smell of cooking eggs joined the rich scent of bacon.
He stepped further into the room, his gaze returning to the silent woman at the table. She still looked thin, her body all angles and hollows. But her skin looked tanner. Her face stronger. And her eyes...there was a light there, one he had not seen since her rage all those years ago, when she’d killed the one who’d murdered her heart.
He frowned, turning to follow her gaze, which was fixed on the plate of bacon. She...looked...hungry? He unconsciously shook his head. That could not be. Jillian ignored food. One needed no sustenance when drifting in theTabenetha.
“Has Jillian said why you are here?” he asked.
As soon as he said her name, Jillian shifted to face him. Her dark, cloudy gaze touched his face, then slid back to the bacon. He froze. It was unlike hisle'ven'ato react to voices…even those that spoke her name. Also...was there less murkiness in hergaze? More awareness? He thought this might be true. But he could not be certain.
Wishful thinking could also be at work.
“No more than what I told you yesterday.” She picked up the metal spatula sitting on the counter and waved it at him. “The screaming mother wants us here. This is all she has said.” She worked the spatula beneath the eggs and carefully flipped them, then picked up the saltshaker. “If we had aTaounaha,one who does not shirk his duty, we could ask the elder gods why the screaming mother wants us here. Or even who the screaming mother is.” She split the bacon and eggs between three plates and pushed them to the back of the kitchen counter.
Wolf forced his gaze from Jillian’s quiet face back to his mother’s, which was far from quiet. Indeed, her annoyance crinkled the skin around her eyes and pinched her lips.
“Things are not —” He broke off, his jaw dropping as Jillian suddenly rose from her chair and headed for the food without being encouraged to do so.
She picked up the middle plate, along with a fork, and returned to the table, digging into the bacon and eggs like she was famished. Which she probably was. It had been years since she’d put anything in her mouth without being bullied into it. Years of barely eating enough to keep a bird alive.
Acting upon her own impulses was not normal Jillian behavior.
Something had changed.
“When did this start?” He pointed his chin toward the woman at the table, who was scraping the last of the eggs off her plate, while holding a strip of bacon.
Hisanistaafollowed his glance toward the table and a troubled frown pleated her forehead. “Since theheschrmalclaimed her. She shows initiative now. More each day.”
