But I wasn't a normal werewolf. My Aedh DNA had apparently curtailed much of my wolf heritage, and while I had werewolf sexual sensibilities and drive, the moon had no pull on me and didn't force a shape change during her full bloom. Hell, I couldn't take wolf shape anytime, no matter how hard I tried. And I'd certainly tried more than once.
And yet, weirdly enough, I had inherited Mom's Helki skill for face-shifting. I didn't use it often, but I could, if I wanted to—and with a fair degree of effort—change basic things like hair, eyes, and facial structure. And like my mom, I could hold my altered shape for fairly long periods.
Which was handy for fancy-dress occasions, but not much else.
"Well,” I said, "this half-Aedh knows that reapers are soul guides. You take them to heaven or hell, depending on what their allotted fate is.”
"We do not call it heaven or hell. Those are human terms.”
"Then what do you call them?”
"The light or dark path.”
"Which is basically the same thing.”
He merely shrugged, but something in the way he studied me suggested I was an idiot for believing that.
Irritating, to say the least.
"And is that the sum of your knowledge?” he asked.
"I know there are gates between this world and the next—one for your so-called dark path, and one for the light. I know that Aedh priests used to guard them, but the priests no longer exist.” I eyed him for a moment. "Have the Mijai taken over that role?”
He hesitated. "Not really. We hunt what breaks through them, but we have no power over the gates themselves.”
"But you're reapers,” I said. "Reapers escort the souls from this world through the gray fields to the next. How can you not have power over the gates?”
"As you said, the Aedh were the gatekeepers. We are merely the guides.”