I told you why I’m here.
You told me what we hunt. You didn’t explain why you’re here instead of Raven. Why you’re riding around in Havoc instead of a body of your own. You haven’t even told me why you need me along.
The terrier cocked her head. I’m sure you’ll prove useful somehow. You did bring me dinner . . . no, no, don’t raise your hackles at me. Sly amusement coated the next words like oil on water: You’ve never forgiven me for whatever I did when you came calling in the other world, have you?
You’ve probably misdirected so many questers you can’t be expected to remember all your tricks.
Silence, then, softly: Not so many. Not anymore. The new people don’t know us, and our people have forgotten so much . . . Even those few who still attempt a spirit quest seldom make it into the other world where we can guide them.
For the first time, there were echoes and ghosts in that voice . . . shades and shadows and years upon years. For the first time, Benedict felt . . . a Presence. Not just power, but Presence.
Coyote shook off the mood physically with a brisk shake of the little terrier’s body. Ah well, times change. As for your other questions—Raven was busy, and this is more my sort of job, anyway. I’m with Havoc because she offered to host me, and it’s devilishly hard to affect anything in your world without a body.
You had a body when you were in the barn scaring the stallion.
Do you have any idea how much power it takes to manifest physically? Especially when a bungling neophyte does the calling. Only a small part of me was able to slip through, not enough to maintain a body. Fortunately, little Havoc here was happy to share.
The terrier wiggled again as if she’d been stroked.
Maybe she had. Who knew what Coyote—even a small part of him—could do? You didn’t tell me why you want me along.
I didn’t, did I? Some things I like to make up as I go along. It’s time we were going.
Going where?
I found him again.
Temper rolled in like a thunderhead. And you’re just now mentioning this?
I just now found him. I believe he must have gone into a town. So many other presences so close together could have masked his.
You could have told me that earlier.
I didn’t know it would work that way. His dethru—
Dethru? Benedict asked.
Like a spirit guide, only more intrusive. That one hasn’t been in this world for a very long time, so I had no experience of looking for him in a town. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m able to think and move at the same time. The little Jack Russell started trotting, tail up, head high, eager for adventure. Give it a try. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it with a little practice.
Benedict growled . . . and followed.
Chapter Ten
Everyone was very sympathetic to Arjenie about Benedict. It set her teeth on edge. “He did not just run off,” she said again—this time to Uncle Clay. “He ran after the bear.”
“I know, sugar.” He patted her hand. “I don’t think he was hurt too badly.”
She was sitting between her aunt and uncle in Robin’s pickup, headed back to the house. The twins were being dropped off by one of the deputies. Arjenie had arranged things this way because she had things to tell them that Seri and Sammy didn’t need to hear.
“He’ll come back to himself and find his way to us,” Robin added in a reassuring voice.
“He hasn’t lost himself. Being wolf doesn’t make him not himself.”
“But he thinks differently as a wolf. He told us that.”
“Thinking differently is still thinking. He didn’t just mindlessly chase the bear. He had a reason.” Something about the way Clay looked at Robin and she looked back made her exclaim, “You are being so soothing! What is it you aren’t saying?”
“Well—just that lupi sometimes go wolf, don’t they?”