Both men passed a flicker of surprise at having been addressed in their own language, but resumed their duty. “Your men did this?” one asked.
I shook my head. “No, but a brother shifter. I cannot bring them to justice, but I can apologize for their ways.”
The men nodded and then looked at the girl, suddenly they were all smiles and jokes. “You’re in so much trouble Zani. Diora has been losing her mind without you.”
She stuck out her tongue. “It wasn’t exactly my fault being taken.”
The men continued to grin but said nothing more, she led me into the tent. Stealing from a chief was a big deal, even for shifters. I couldn’t believe Locke’s stupidity. He may have cursed his whole pack.
A man and woman rose as soon as we entered, hope was on their faces and elation once they realized who stood before them. They rushed the girl and were soon hugging and laughing. When the father turned to me though, he became cold.
I offered my apologies again, but this time told them who I was.
“Marcus the Whiteclaw’s son? He doesn’t have a son. Do you take me for a fool?” The chief stood taller, suddenly seeing me as a threat. “He died with Myra.I know.”
My blood ran cold. How could he know? “What do you mean?” I asked.
“You think I will tell a stranger so willingly?”
“Oh Daddy stop being silly,” the girl, Zani, said. “He saved me from those other shifters and he’s an alpha. Averystrong alpha.”
The chief watched me for a time. “Prove it,” he said. “Shift.”
“I am not a circus animal,” I said. I had to keep focus on the reason that I was here. “And it is not why I am. Your daughter has exceptional ability. Exceptional. She put half a village to sleep. I’ve never seen that, and I’ve only read of it. That power–”
“Is like the old power,” her father said proudly, wrapping an arm around. “She is a miracle.”
“Yes, and I’d like to use her.”
“Excuse me?” he said. Surprise slapped all their faces and their jaws dropped.
“I know that sleep singing has an anti-melody, that is how people can avoid the charm. Unless people know this, they need to be chewing Myrtlewort root. Now I know thatLocke and his men don’t even know about this, so they must’ve been well stocked in the root. ButIknow this. And when I realized your daughter was singing I blocked my hearing with an anti-melody. But the skill is like breathing, unlearnable.”
The family stared at me in shock, I’d played my card and it was too late to go back.
“However I’d like you to figure out an anti-melody?”
“What?” echoed the father again.
“I would like your daughter, or your wife, to figure out the anti–melody to a song. It is the Siren Singer’s song. I memorized it before killing it.”
Their faces were white. The father looked at me like I was crazy. “That’s impossible. No one can hear the melody of theKlush’mar.” He squeezed his daughter tighter. “And even if the melody was knowable, why would I let my daughter hum it to learn the anti-melody? It would be far too dangerous.”
Silence filled the tent, I watched them and allowed the thoughts to sit. I could see that Zani had passed from horrified to intrigue.
“You actually heard it?” she asked.
“Do not give into him,” the father began.
“I did,” I said. “My skill is not as great as yours, but I can hum. I know the melody and that is enough.”
The parents were mortified.Who had been allowed into their tent?
“Sing it,” Zani said.
I took a breath in and inflated my lungs. I began a neutral note, from what Roman taught me, and then sung the melody. The color drained from their faces, they began to grimace. The girl became horrified, with the father’s face setting and becoming angry.
“Do you jest?” he asked angrily.
