Eileen Wilks: Humon Error

“You know where he is right now,” Aunt Robin said suddenly. “Can you tell what’s happening to him?”

“No, I only get a sort of directional sense and a really rough idea of how far away he is.” She pointed. “He’s thataway, more than five miles but less than twenty.”

Her aunt’s face took on a severe cast, one that went well with the Voice of Authority she used next. “Arjenie, you aren’t planning to go looking for him, are you?”

Arjenie’s eyes widened in surprise. She had to ask? “Of course I am.”

The wind had died. The temperature had dropped. Fat white flakes drifted down, reflecting light as they pirouetted toward earth. Benedict limped up yet another hill and snarled at the air.

His leg had gone from painful to searing every time something pulled on the damaged muscle. He moved it as little as possible, but why couldn’t the damn bear have gotten his foreleg instead?

A foolish thought. The bear had meant to kill him. He’d twisted in midair and taken the blow on his haunch, which was vastly better than the gut wound he would otherwise have gotten. Pain was making him stupid as well as cross.

It didn’t help that he didn’t know where he was. He’d gotten spoiled. He could see that now. Back home he could have oriented himself easily anywhere within a couple hundred miles of Clanhome. Here . . . well, he’d looked over a couple maps before they came, but that, it turned out, wasn’t enough. Had he stayed two-footed it might have been, but wolves don’t orient themselves spatially the same way men do. At some point, he’d gotten lost.

We’re about five miles from the south border of the Delacroix land, Coyote told him cheerily.

I wasn’t thinking at you.

Then don’t think so loudly.

Benedict glanced at the little dog trotting tirelessly beside him. How could fifteen pounds of terrier keep going for mile after mile? How are Havoc’s pads holding up?

They’ll do. I may not have enough power to maintain my own body, but I try to be a good guest.

Did that mean Coyote was extending some kind of magical assistance to the little dog? Benedict hoped so.

The terrier stopped. Cocked her head. And something very like a sigh, coated with sadness, washed over Benedict. I was afraid of that.

What?

I’ll tell you as we go. We have to hurry now.

There was a great deal of commotion when they got home. Arjenie expected that. She expected her aunt and uncle to try to talk her out of going to find Benedict, too, and so they did.

She did not expect to find the twins on her side.

“We’ll go with you,” Sammy said.

She looked up from lacing up one of the custom-made hiking boots she’d recently added to her wardrobe. “You will?”

“Of course we will,” Seri said.

“You most certainly will not,” Robin said crisply, then frowned as her phone tolled. Her ringtone sounded like cathedral bells. She pulled it from her purse and her frown deepened. “Don’t anyone go anywhere until I take care of this.”

“I’ll go with you, too,” Uncle Stephen said quietly.

Arjenie beamed at him. Uncle Stephen would be excellent backup.

Clay turned to his brother, frowning. “I don’t appreciate—”

“She’s going to go, Clay. Whether anyone goes with her or not, she’ll go. Best if one of us is with her, don’t you think?”

“It’s not as if I’m going alone.” Arjenie pulled on the other boot. “Remember Josh and Adam?” Who were in the kitchen now. She’d briefed them when she called, including instructions to eat plenty of dinner first. “They’re going with me. Or perhaps I’m going with them, because the big reason for me to go is so I can bring Benedict’s men to him. He’ll need them.”

Stephen’s eyebrow cocked up. “You think you can find him, then? I don’t recall that your finding spell was anything special.”

“I won’t actually use a finding spell. It’s something else, and I can’t tell you what, but I can certainly find him.” Now she’d better get herself a sandwich or something. Unlike most Gifted, her magic was drawn in part from her physical body. Use much of it and she got terribly hungry. Use too much, and she passed out.

She’d used a pretty good wallop of it when she set all those mage lights blazing. She stood up. “Those who are going with me need to dress for a hike. Most of it will be cross-country, probably several miles.”

“Arjenie.” Seri was exasperated. “You aren’t up for miles of hiking across rough country.”

“I’ve been working out with Benedict—or rather, he’s been training me. He’s very good. I’ve gone for all-day hikes up and down the mountains out there without turning my ankle.” Well, only one hike had lasted all day, and they’d taken several breaks, but that wasn’t the point. “That country is a lot rougher than this.”

“I suppose.” Seri looked dubious. “I’ll get my—”

“Clay.” Some note in Robin’s voice had everyone turning toward her.

She put up her phone. “That was Sheriff Porter. We’re needed. A little girl has gone missing. Snatched, they think. They need me to find her.”

In the end, Stephen went with Robin instead of Arjenie. So did Clay and Ambrose and Nate and Gary, whose Earth Gift was pretty weak, but he’d balance the circle. Hershey was staying here with Sheila and Carmen to protect the children. He was a powerful Fire Gifted, stronger even than Uncle Clay. And Carmen knew how to shoot.

It should be enough. It had to be enough, because Sammy and Seri were determined to go with Arjenie. She only hoped that Benedict was on the trail of the skinwalker still, because that meant the evil creature was several miles from the Delacroix home.

They did drive part of the way, taking the rutted old road Clay’s grandfather had used to carry hay to the horses he’d raised back in the thirties. It took them to the edge of Delacroix land.

“Okay,” she said when they got out. “Here’s how this will work. I’m in charge of strategy, but Josh here—you’re senior, right, Josh?—Josh is field commander. Tactics, in other words.”

Josh was about five seven, burly, with dark hair and eyes and the sweetest smile. He offered it to her now. “Does that mean you’ll do what I say?”

“If it doesn’t interfere with strategy—which right now is to get to Benedict.”

“All right. Adam, we’ll be moving slow enough for you to take roving point. Change, please.”

Good thing she’d brought the backpack again. Adam’s clothes went in it, along with one of his two guns, a shoulder holster, phone, and shoes. The other gun went to Josh, who used Adam’s ankle holster to carry it. “Two guns?’ Arjenie said, eyebrows raised at the silvery wolf who wagged his tail at her.

“Adam likes to be prepared,” Josh said.

“I told you that bullets didn’t seem to do much damage to the bear. Maybe not any damage.”

Josh nodded. “You think it’s a skinwalker.”

“A skinwalker!” Sammy looked shocked.

“We didn’t hear that part,” Seri said. “In all the commotion when you got home, we didn’t have a chance to ask questions.”

Sammy nodded. “And we have a lot of questions.”

So for the first mile or so, Arjenie told them, in detail, why she thought the bear was a skinwalker. To be fair, she outlined her aunt’s objections to this theory, ending with her suspicions about who the skinwalker might be.

“K. J. Miller?” Seri wrinkled her nose. “He’s a complete asshole, but I don’t think—”

“I don’t know, Seri,” Sammy said darkly. “Remember the cat?”