It hadn’t helped. Four months later, Carlos still couldn’t hear moonsong. He’d committed suicide.
Sheila was gone by then.
Isen couldn’t let her repeat her crime. She could have taken vengeance on too many others by reporting them to the government, up to and including Isen himself. She’d proven herself capable of doing just that. So he’d had her smuggled into Cuba, where she was given the equivalent of five hundred dollars and left to survive. Or not.
Rule thought about Sheila as he stood beside Isen and watched clan obediently gather in front of their Rho. Any lupus who had done what Sheila had would have been put to death. But his people did not hurt women. Ever.
With one exception.
Their Lady understood her people. She’d never told them to protect women, no more than she’d instructed them to love their children, fight their enemies, or revel in the bliss of running four-footed. They did those things because they were as she’d made them. Because she knew this, one of the very few laws she’d given them was that any clan member who willfully and knowingly assisted the Great Enemy was to be put to death. Any clan, male or female.
The Lady’s law must be followed. Isen had no choice. Neither did Rule.
What happened tonight depended on many things. It was possible a male clansman had revealed details about Cullen’s workshop and his project, but it was far more likely to have been a female clan. But who had she spoken to? What were her motives? Speaking when she shouldn’t might result in benefit to the enemy, but stupidity wasn’t punishable by death.
Rule breathed slowly and carefully and told himself he was not nauseous. His body would heal nausea, so what he felt was tension, not illness. Isen understood the difference between accidental aid and intentional. He was no fool.
But he was very angry.
“Squads Seven and Eight!” Isen called out. “Do you smell guilt? Is anyone in your group lying by remaining behind?”
Rule couldn’t see what the four-footed guards did. Vochi blocked his view to the right, Laban to the left, and those who’d been brought up front for questioning blocked the rest. He didn’t turn around to look—not until Isen began to turn in a slow circle. Then he kept pace, staying at his Rho’s side.
At the back of the crowd to the south, a wolf yipped. To the east and much closer, another one did. Two reluctant witnesses had been identified.
“Bring them forward,” Isen commanded. Then, in an ordinary voice, he said, “Lily.”
She was behind Rule and to his right. “Yes?”
“I told you once that a Rho does not question his clan directly. That was an exaggeration, but the basic principle is true. This is not yet a matter of trial and accusation. I would like you to ask the questions.”
Rule’s hackles lifted. His ears flattened as he swung his head around to look first at his Rho, then at Lily. He shook his head once. No.
Lily met his eyes, her own dark and serious. “It will be all right,” she told him.
He shook his head again.
She walked up to him, knelt, and threaded her hand into the fur along his neck until her fingertips touched skin. “It will be all right,” she repeated, but this time under the tongue, so quietly that only he would hear. “You won’t have to kill anyone tonight.”
He stared at her, astonished that she understood. And upset that she didn’t.
“Oh. That’s not quite it, is it?” She bent and put her mouth close to his ear, her voice so soft now it was barely more than a breath. “You won’t have to disobey your Rho, either.”
ELEVEN
“LILY.” Her name was a low rumble, like thunder in the distance. Isen’s voice was pure, deep bass. Most of the time it seemed to rumble up from the depths of his barrel chest, as if his lungs were located so deep in his body the sound had the time and space to echo around in there. It was a voice well suited to menace when he wanted it to be.
Lily wished she knew for sure he was aiming for menace instead of hitting it naturally at the moment. She straightened, keeping one hand resting on Rule’s back. “I would very much like to handle the questioning. Thank you.” Not that he was doing it to please her. No, he had something else in mind, and maybe she’d guessed what that was. One of his goals, anyway. Isen wasn’t a two birds with one stone kind of guy. More like one stone, two birds, a rabbit, a fox, and maybe that deer will trip over the fox and we can get him, too.
Which Rule knew very well. And he was still scared. Scared his Rho would ask something of him he couldn’t do.
Something was going on Lily didn’t understand, but she knew what questions to ask. She spoke to Isen. “I’d like to give the witnesses some directions first.”
His bushy eyebrows lifted a millimeter. “Very well.” He raised his voice, addressing the tense group who’d come forward. “You will do as the Chosen bids.”
The Chosen. Lily ran her thumb over the other ring she wore. Not Rule’s ring, but the one that held the charm the clan had entrusted to her when she accepted her place in the clan. The lupi had considered her Nokolai from the moment the mate bond hit, but the charm marked her acceptance of that joining.
The toltoi, they called the little charm. The toltoi wasn’t magic. Not exactly. Lily felt something when she touched it, something so faint it almost wasn’t there, and that faint trace didn’t quite feel like magic. She didn’t know what it was, and that was annoying, but she’d gotten used to not knowing. Mostly.
Lily turned to look at her witnesses.
Maybe forty people waited to do as she bid. Six of them were male. All of them were anxious. “First,” she said loudly, “does anyone have information that’s urgent? Not just important, but urgent?” Some shook their heads. None spoke. “Okay, then. I want everyone who spoke with or was questioned by someone from Laban to move to your right. Everyone who spoke with or was questioned by someone from Vochi, go to your left. If you’ve been questioned by people from more than one clan, get in the middle and sit down. If you’ve been questioned by someone not from Vochi, Laban, or Nokolai, get in the middle but don’t sit down.”
You sure couldn’t do this with witnesses anywhere else. They all did just what she’d told them to do. There were a few murmurs as they determined where the perimeters of each group lay, but otherwise they were quiet.
It was spooky as hell. “Thank you,” she said, taking a quick count. Only six on the Laban side. Thirteen—no, fifteen on the Vochi side. Nine sat in the middle and eleven stood. “I’m talking to the ones standing in the middle now,” Lily said. “If any of you are up here because you talked to or were questioned by someone from Leidolf and only Leidolf, go sit…” She looked around. “Got sit on the west side, near Cynna.”
Everyone who’d been standing in the middle began moving. They were careful not to encroach on the open area where Isen, Lily, Rule, and the others stood. Once they’d gotten themselves over by Cynna she asked, “Is there anyone who was questioned by someone who is not clan? Not from any of the clans?” She waited. No one spoke or moved. “Okay. I’ll probably want to talk with each of you one-on-one, but not quite yet. You can sit down while you wait, if you like, but stay in your groups and don’t talk to each other.”
So much for the willing witnesses. The two reluctant ones had arrived, escorted by two very large wolves, who prodded them to stand directly in front of their Rho. One was thirty-ish, blond and blue, five-three, about one-twenty-five. That one-twenty-five was arranged in a traditional hourglass shape. She looked miserable. The other was younger—maybe twenty—with a narrow face, long dark hair, very straight, and olive skin. Five-nine, but about the same weight as the other woman. Long and lean. Lily couldn’t see her expression clearly. She kept her head lowered, letting that long hair curtain her face.