Page 83 of The Seeker
“It’s just a fox,” the woman said in French, and the animal went to her. “My fox.” It curled around her arm and settled next to the woman after an affectionate scratch behind the ears.
“Atawakabiche.” Meera stepped toward her. This had to be the legendary Irina. There was no hint of evil around her, no sense of illusion or Fallen trickery. Though she was difficult to see in the darkness, there was a heady power that lay within her like a banked fire.
“I haven’t heard that name in a long time.”
“You found us.” Meera fell to her knees before the legendary Irina. “We were looking for you, but you found us.”
The Wolf cocked her head, not unlike the foxes that gathered around her. Two more had come and stood at attention as she spoke. “You called me.”
“We did?”
“Something did.” The Wolf brushed away the animals. “Is your mate with you?”
“My mate?”
“I felt mating magic,” the woman said, standing to her full height. “I haven’t felt that for a very long time.” She was tall and lean with the muscles of an archer. She reminded Meera of her mother. “Stand up. Is your mate near?”
Meera rose. “I… I’m not mated.”
“Are you sure?” She frowned. “Come closer.”
Meera did, lowering the shields she’d thrown up at the first hint of danger.
Atawakabiche, legendary warrior of the Irina, breathed out a long string of words in a language Meera couldn’t translate, then she fell to her knees.
“What are you doing?” Meera asked.
“Somasikara.” The Wolf breathed out the name with reverence. “Sha somasikara. You are a keeper.”
Of all the things Meera had expected, this one hadn’t even crossed her mind. “You remember the keepers?”
“I know the magic of asomasikarawhen I feel it.”
“It’s been a long time since anyone called me by that name.” As always, Meera’s heart was humbled by the use of her title in the Old Language. Thesomasikarawere the keepers of memory, and it was rare for younger Irina to even know the word. “Please.” Meera held out her hand. “Mother, I come to ask your wisdom.”
“I thought I would never see another keeper on the earth. I thought they had all been taken.” Atawakabiche looked up, weariness written on the planes of her face. “Surely Uriel has sent you so I can finally die.”
Chapter Fifteen
Rhys woke with the dawn and the knowledge that Meera was not beside him. He sat up, activated histalesm,and opened his senses.
Two powerful energies came to Rhys. One was Meera, familiar and intoxicating. The second was older. Far older. He rolled to the tent flap silently, grateful that the zipper was already undone.
Who was with Meera? Was it Vasu?
No, he’d felt Vasu before. This was an unfamiliar magic.
He moved on silent feet, tapping on the edge of Roch’s tent before he walked across the planks leading to shore.
He didn’t draw his knives.
He crossed the unsteady bridge and followed the muddy footprints to the clearing in the forest.
Meera. And a woman who could only be the ancient warrior they’d been seeking.
Her skin, from her chin to her toes, was intricately tattooed with signs and symbols he didn’t recognize. They were not in the Old Language. This was some different magic. Her hair was pulled up into a topknot, and she had looped a crown of shells around her head. She wore no clothes save for a short leather skirt.
The warrior woman watched him from her seat on a fallen log. Meera had her back to him and did not turn.
