Page 121 of In Her Own Rite

“Yes,” I say, thinking of the version of my dad I fought first.

“And, without telling us what it was—did you overcome that adversary?”

I nod.

“Say it out loud,piu,” she says softly. “For the secretary.”

“Oh. Yes,” I say again. “I did.”

“And had you made your way out of the ring before anyone came to help you?”

“Yes.”

“Then this fulfills the expectations set forth in theEijna. The council affirms the validity of your rite. Congratulations, elder.”

I feel a flush of warmth in my cheeks as the sound of gentle applause fills the room. Saga smiles, and I feel my inner wolf sit up happily. I don’t know what I was nervous about—of course she’d see to it that my rite would count. It’s Saga.

“I’m afraid that leads us to our next topic, which I suspect will be more contentious,” she says, looking around the room. “We called this special meeting to order because we need to decide what to do with the rebels who made their way to our shores six weeks ago. Since we caught the first of them, we’ve kept them in the basement downstairs, waiting for a decision. We now know we have them all—including Janus Stenberg, a former Fakari pack member.”

I glance over at Kieran, beside me.

“I think it’s time to make a decision,” Saga says. “The longer we keep them here, the longer they benefit from our hospitality. I move to send them back to the southern islands.”

“Wait a moment,” says Ingela, an elder across the circle from us. “Is that wise? They’re radicals. If we let them return to their home islands, they’ll just have the chance to regroup and come back stronger.”

“Then we strengthen our own defenses,” Saga says. “We cannot afford to keep them here. We don’t have the infrastructure for prisoners. Nor am I interested in housing and feeding them with our resources.”

“We’re hardly feeding them,” Kieran grumbles beside me.

Saga looks at him admonishingly. The warmth in her eyes when she spoke about my rite is gone, and I find myself unnerved by it.

“Isn’t it—” I say, but my voice comes out weaker than I want it to. I clear my throat. “Is there another way to send them away without sending them home?”

My uncle Viggo, sitting beside Saga at the head of the council, shakes his head. “Not short of death.”

“Or sending them to the mainland undocumented,” adds Dagmar. “Which is almost worse.”

I swallow, thinking. “And what about the Nayakka sisters?”

Saga shakes her head. “I see no reason they should be any different.”

“No, hang on,” says Kieran, next to me. “She traded her security for Em’s safety. She told us Janus was here, knowing it could cost her her life once the other prisoners learned.”

“At the last possible second, after it could make any difference,” Saga says, shaking her head. “Anyone who came here as a terrorist should be sent back.”

“Ama, this is insane,” Gabe says from across the room. “You’re not thinking clearly. I’ve read their petitions—this is clearly a different situation for her and her sister than the others.”

I see Dagmar and Viggo glance at each other, and something registers in my mind. While Viggo looks stern, Dagmar’s face is sympathetic, uncertain. A part of her agrees with Gabe.

“Youare not thinking clearly,” Saga says. “Your heart is too big. You’re letting your compassion blind you to what’s best for the islands.”

“And you’re letting what happened with Dad cloud your vision.”

A ripple of surprise goes through the crowd, and the room goes silent.No onetalks about Ben Taguit—not even Saga, his widow.

Saga sets her jaw, staring at her son. I can feel the anger in the air.

“These people need our protection,Ama,” Gabe says, his voice gentler now.

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