they?”
The band of seven moved slowly down the mountain path, Tonio guiding Faisal. The forest sounds played counterpoint to their footsteps, the crunching leaves serving as tympani to the birds and crickets.
They reached the observation blind, and the boy’s nose twitched, its alar wings expanding to take in the multitude of forest smells: decaying leaves, and tree and plant scents blending with the feral.
“Zeus! Mercury! Athena! Come out,” Freddie called. Faisal’s sensitized ears picked up the quiet padding of the four-legged ones.
They came in threes, moving slowly toward the pack that was of them and not of them. Now their moist, black nostrils took in the scent of a new, two-legged one. They stopped. The three oldest sat, as their three successors moved forward, green eyes watching, ears on point.
Faisal took three steps and dropped to his knees. He extended his arms slowly, performing the ancient prayers he had been taught. He had no prayer rug, but Allah would grant the forest floor that honor. He bowed his upper body the ritual four times, then placed his hands on his thighs and waited.
The young alpha male walked forward first, inhaled deeply of the boy’s scent, then touched its muzzle to Faisal’s right hand. The two others followed in turn, then they returned to sit by the three seniors. From the remainder of the pack, a young, medium-sized, dark-gray male approached slowly, tail at half-mast. It went down on all fours and slowly inched forward. Its muzzle touched both hands, then it stared upward into the sightless eyes and whimpered.
Faisal reached out gently, placed his hands behind the beast’s head, and whispered, “Akela.”
CHAPTER 4
Heartbeats
The drumbeat of life begins in the womb and continues until the Three Sisters select, measure, and cut the strings that bind us to this mortal coil. It is a steady yeoman’s beat, regular with few skips. It speeds up in love or fear and slows down at rest. But there are times, maybe a warning of the approaching scythe, when it performs a Tango of Death.
He felt the sudden fluttering. There was no pain, just the sensation of wings beating inside trying to escape from within a cage of muscle and bone. He rubbed his chest, hoping it was just fatigue, and it seemed to abate. He was a man, after all, so he ignored it.
Ben Castle, sergeant, Pennsylvania State Highway Patrol, got dressed. It was good to have his partner back on duty again. Lachlan Douglass was quite a guy—a good cop, loyal soldier, loving husband, and now adoptive father to young Faisal. The boy who went to the Iraq war had come back a man, one whom Ben would have been proud to call son.
The former high-school basketball champ was turning into one damned fine cop. He soaked up Ben’s advice like a sponge.
The old trooper stood in front of the mirror. Everything looked straight and spit-polish bright. He adjusted the badge over his left chest and felt the flutter again.
That’ll teach you to eat pork chops before bedtime!
He looked in the mirror once more and saw his father’s face staring back: stocky, almost bald, with rounded lopsided grin, and azure-blue eyes that still caught the ladies’ attention when he pulled them over for speeding.
Not bad for an old guy in his fifties. Must be those good Polish genes!
He adjusted the crown of his trooper’s hat and strode out to the patrol car.
Time to pick up Lachlan and the kid .
Faisal, guided by his wolf-dog, Akela, waited outside the Douglass house, ready to be dropped off at the bus stop, where he would meet the Hidalgo children. Another year at the private academy then off to The Juilliard School of Music in New York City.
The Douglasses still couldn’t believe it. The three old-timers up on the mountain had said they would pay Fai’s tuition and cover his expenses at Juilliard.
Lachlan heard the honk of Ben’s patrol car. He kissed Diana and headed to the driveway to join Faisal.
Then the horn