“Found us another skinwalker. His name is Sani.”
Sawyer’s knowledge of magic had died with him. I might now possess his power, but I had no clue how to use it. Hence Ruthie’s search for another of my kind. Sawyer had been able to talk to the dead, and right now . . . I really needed to.
“Man taught Sawyer everything he knew,” she continued.
“The guy’s still alive?” Since Sawyer was ancient, Sani had to be Mesozoic.
Ruthie gave me a long look out of Luther’s face. A skinwalker only died if he chose to, therefore most of them were probably older than the hills—literally.
“How do I find him?” I asked.
“Take a right at the Badlands and don’t stop until you hit the Black Hills. Place called Inyan Kara. Sacred mountain of the Lakota.”
“Skinwalkers are Navajo. What the hell is one doing on Lakota land?”
“Sacred mountain is a sacred mountain, and skinwalkers need one of their own. Mount Taylor has belonged to Sawyer since—”
“The dawn of time,” I muttered.
“Close enough.”
“If this man taught Sawyer, why didn’t he snatch Mount Taylor for himself?”
“He did.”
“Yet he’s in South Dakota.”
“Wyoming,” she corrected. “Inyan Kara is found in the portion of the Black Hills located in Wyoming. Creates a sacred triangle with Bear Butte and Devil’s Tower. Powerful magic.”
“Lakota magic.”
Luther’s bony shoulders rippled again. “Sani can draw magic from any mountain.”
“I still don’t see why he gave up Mount Taylor.”
“He didn’t give it up,” Ruthie said, and something in her voice told me the truth.
“Sawyer took it from him.”
Luther’s chin dipped toward his chest in acknowledgment.
“Guy’s going to be so happy to help me raise the man who stole his magic mountain,” I muttered. Indians are understandably touchy on the subject of land grabbing.
“Sani will help you. He’ll have to.”
“Why?”
“When your journey is complete, you’ll know all you need to know.”
I really hated it when Ruthie said shit like that.
I didn’t bother to quiz her about what I’d learn from the journey. Even if she knew, she wouldn’t tell me. The journey was part of the . . . journey.
“What does Sani mean?” I asked.
“Old One.”
“What did they call him when he was young?”
“Sani was never young.”
I opened my mouth then shut it again. I really didn’t want to know.
“What’s wrong?” Ruthie asked. “I figured you’d grab your bag and be out the door before the location left my mouth.”
I’d thought I would be, too. But while I wouldn’t pose questions about my journey, I did have questions about something else.
“I have a little problem,” I said, then lowered myself to my knees and dragged the hissing, spitting kitten from beneath the mattress.
Ruthie stared at it for a minute then lifted her gaze to mine. “Got no time for a pet.”
“This was a baby ten minutes ago.”
Luther’s bushy brows lifted. “Don’t say.”
“Do.”
Ruthie snorted. “Well. How’d that happen?”
I let the kitten skitter back beneath the bed and reached for the blanket, holding the soft material up so she could see the truth. “Get the picture?”
Luther’s eyes widened. “No foolin’?”
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her. Ruthie existed these days in her own personal heaven. There the sun always shone and it never, ever rained. She watched over children who’d left this earth too soon, usually violently, giving them extra love and attention before sending them on their way into the light.
She also directed our side of the war from beyond. I might carry the title leader of the light, but the true leader was Ruthie and always would be.
However, sometimes she kept things from us. She had her reasons, or so she said. She also manipulated us, lied to us, and moved us around like living chess pieces. At times I’d hated her for it. Eventually I’d come to understand she’d do anything to save the world, because so would I.
“You’d have no clue who her mother might be?” That was bothering me more and more. The mother. Who was she? Where was she? Most importantly . . .
What was she?
“None,” Ruthie answered.
“Huh.” I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about that. As far as I knew, Sawyer didn’t have a little black book.
“We’re going to have to work something out for the child,” Ruthie said. “You need to go to Sani. He no longer leaves Inyan Kara.”
“Cursed?” Until recently Sawyer had been unable to leave Navajo land as a man. His whack-job of an evil spirit bitch mother had cursed him. No sooner had the curse been broken, allowing him to walk on two feet instead of four anywhere that he wanted, than I’d had to kill him. Talk about bad luck.
“Yes.” Ruthie shook her head, and Luther’s curls bobbed. “No. Well, you’ll see.”
I loved it when I knew exactly what I was getting into.