Page 129 of Shadow Blind

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, letting it swing shut behind him. The Taounaha was not on hand to greet him. Unusual. The propped-open door proved Benioko was expecting him. He deposited the covered plate and both coffee cups on the small Formica table with its chipped and stained surface and took a seat on the sagging couch.

You wouldn’t know from the thrift store relics that Benioko, as the earthside mouthpiece, was the most important member of the Kalikoia tribe. The shaman chose a thrifty life, one without creature comforts or ostentatious symbols of status. The Taounaha’s life was spent in dreams and visions and service to his people.

“Ho'cee,” Benioko said, surprise in his thin, crackly voice as he shuffled into the living room. “You are here. Why?”

Judging by the question, along with the surprise in Benioko’s voice, Wolf was not the visitor the Old One had expected, which was odd. Few people visited the shaman. Those with spirit trouble went to Wolf first, and Wolf reached out to Benioko. As base commander and the Taounaha’s Betanee, Wolf facilitated spiritual ceremonies and Shadow Realm connections.

“Who are you expecting?”

“Your javaanee.” Benioko shuffled into the kitchen, stopping at the drawer next to the sink.

Wolf heard the clink of metal. When he returned to the table, Benioko held a fork. With a deep, tired sigh, he pulled out a chair, sat down, and popped off the lid to the plate and coffee.

“You’re expecting Aiden?” Wolf concealed his surprise.

What business did his javaanee have with the Taounaha? Aiden still wasn’t interested in learning the Kalikoia ways. Indeed, he actively avoided Benioko. It was strange that his brother would seek out the shaman now.

Although curious, he locked the questions behind his teeth. Benioko would speak to him of Aiden’s visit if it was meant for his ears. Instead, he sat in the chair across from the shaman, pulled the capped cup of coffee toward him, and waited.

Respect called for the Taounaha to begin the conversation.

This didn’t happen until Benioko had plowed through the food on his plate and finished his coffee. Once the last morsel of eggs had been caught and transferred to his mouth, the Old One carefully set the fork down and leaned back in his chair. Milky, yet shrewd, eyes snared Wolf’s gaze.

“Why have you come, Ho'cee?”

Wolf chose his words with care. “My anistaa called last night. She spoke of Jillian. Of a claiming by a spirit animal.”

A slow frown wrinkled Benioko’s lined forehead. “Your shadow-locked le'ven'a was claimed by the forest spirits?”

Wolf flinched at the description, although it was accurate. Jillian was locked between the living and the dead.

“Yes. By the heschrmal.”

Benioko straightened at that news. Shock widened his eyes. Had the Blue Moon Mother withheld this claiming from her mate? Or had the Shadow Warrior withheld the information from his mouthpiece?

“A heschrmal?” The Taounaha straightened even further. His eyes flared, some of the milkiness burning away. “Is your anistaa certain of this?”

“She saw it. She heard the heschrmal’s scream,” Wolf said quietly. “She says Jillian bears the claiming bite and carries the totem.” He steadied his voice. “What does this mean?”

Several moments of silence were followed by the slow shake of Benioko’s head. “This I do not know. I will seek answers.”

Unsettled, Wolf slumped into his chair. The Shadow Warrior’s Taounaha was unaware of Jillian’s claiming? This was not normal. The shaman was rarely left hanging like this. Not when it came to the elder gods or the dynamics between their earthborn children and the Shadow Realm.

Uneasiness crawled through him. Why had the elder gods turned away from Benioko?

What was going on in the Shadow Realm?

Chapter fifty-one

Day 24

Denali, Alaska

The strangeness of the day started before Aiden rolled out of bed.

The cell phone he’d pulled from his tactical pants and dropped on the nightstand woke him from a fragmented sleep. That weird shadow world, with its terrifying residents, had taken over his dreams again. The certainty that they wanted something from him…demanded something from him…followed him into wakefulness. The tension from the dream still pressed against his chest as he reached for the lit-up and vibrating phone.

The message icon showed someone had texted him, but he didn’t recognize the number the message had come from. After reading the text, he blinked and read it again. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and read it a third time. The message hadn’t changed. And the damn thing still made no sense.

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