Next to Shan, Ragvald shifted position impatiently. “Some treasures should be shared, not hoarded. Come, honored ally. You have had your turn.”
Ashley crowed in triumph, finally managing to get a grip on Shan’s sunglasses. He seemed to come back to himself, gently disentangling her fingers before she could yank them off his face. She squawked in protest at being separated from her new toy, but it turned into a happy coo as Shan handed her over to Ragvald. With a broad, gummy grin, she grabbed his beard in both hands, yanking hard.
Ragvald winced appreciatively. “Such a fine, strong grip! See how she tries to claim my gold for herself. Already a warrior, this one.”
“She can’t even crawl yet, Ragvald,” Buck said dryly. “Let’s hold off on handing her a motherloving axe. She’s dangerous enough as it is.”
Shan frowned, watching Ashley play with the gold charms braided into Ragvald’s beard. “Her animal has manifested already?”
Zephyr’s shoulders stiffened. When he spoke, his voice was notably cooler. “Professional interest, Agent Zhao?”
Shan made an apologetic gesture. “Not officially. But we are tasked with maintaining the safety of all our kind. Rare shifters are sometimes at higher risk from hunters and other enemies. And phoenixes, in particular, have been targeted for their powers in the past. As I am sure you are aware.”
Zephyr relaxed, thawing. “In that case, I appreciate your concern. But no. There’s no sign yet whether she’s inherited her mother’s animal, or mine. Or neither.”
“That’s not unusual, is it?” Honey asked. “I thought most shifters didn’t get their animals until much later. A lot of the campers are pretty new to their animal forms.”
“It’s typical for most shifters to transform for the first time around the age of seven or eight,” Zephyr confirmed. “Though some shift earlier, and some later.”
“Muchlater, for some of us,” Paige said wryly.
Buck huffed. “Try having a motherloving furball shoved into your head at my age, kid.”
Honey poked her mate in the side, making him grunt. “Oh, you love it, really. And anyway, that’s different. You and I weren’t born with our animals.”
“Neither was I,” Zephyr said, mouth hooking up. His smile faded. “But Blaise was. When she was born, her own father could sense the phoenix fire in her straight away. Blaise says she doesn’t feel any sign of that spark in our daughter.”
“Does that mean Ashley isn’t a phoenix shifter?” Moira asked.
“We can’t be certain,” Zephyr said. “But Blaise doesn’t think she is. And seems unlikely that she’ll take after me, at least not in full. The Thunderbird isn’t something you’re born with.”
“Neither is a phoenix,” Shan said, tone neutral. “In most cases, anyway. Your mate is the only known exception.”
Conleth raised his eyebrows. “I suppose your department keeps track of that sort of thing.”
Shan dipped his chin in confirmation. “To our knowledge, there are currently fifteen phoenix shifters resident in this country. Though it’s impossible to say for certain, since that number could change at any moment.”
“How can that be, if your warband keeps such a close tally?” Ragvald asked. “Babies do not appear out of thin air.”
“Unfortunately,” Paige muttered, rubbing her baby bump.
“Phoenix shifters do,” Shan said to Ragvald. “At any one time, there are a fixed number of them, though we don’t know exactly how many. When one phoenix passes away, a new one rises. There seems little pattern as to where or who, except that the phoenix will not move to someone who is already a shifter. Other than that, it could be anyone. Anywhere in the world.”
Ragvald made a deep rumbling noise, like a thoughtful earthquake. “That is very strange. But even if this little one is not double-souled already, fire runs in her blood. Surely such a spirit would fly straight to her, were one free to do so.”
“Perhaps,” Zephyr replied. He looked at his daughter, still engrossed in trying to pull the charms out of Ragvald’s beard. “Though if it does, I hope it is not for a long time. I would like her to have the chance to be a child first. Not a prodigy with power that others might envy or fear. Just a child.”
Shan nodded in silent agreement, jaw tight. Leonie wondered what his own childhood had been like. Had he always considered himself a monster? Or was it something he’d been taught to believe?
“Well, I guess we’ll find out in time,” she said, deciding tochange the subject. “And speaking of time, it’s getting late. We should do the toast before Zephyr has to take Ashley home. Ragvald, did you bring drinks?”
“But of course, shield-sister!” Ragvald passed Ashley back to Zephyr, freeing his hands. With a flourish, he pulled a stoppered jug and a set of cups out of thin air—or rather, from the mysterious ‘hoard space’ that wyrms could access at will. “I would not forget such an important tradition.”
“Make sure to pour Leonie an extra-large one,” Moira instructed her bodyguard. She shot her a sidelong glance, a wicked glint in her sea-blue eyes. “She looks thirsty.”
Paige sniffed cautiously at the cup Ragvald had just handed her. “This is nonalcoholic, right?”
“Do not fear,” Ragvald replied, busy distributing drinks around the circle. “I know you must properly nurture your youngling. I wanted to make you a traditional tonic from my homeland, but alas, I could not get the ingredients.”
