Honored Vow

The task seemed terrifying.
    “Deep breath,” Crane soothed me, hand on my shoulder as we stood
    in the line, after getting off the plane, to go through Immigration.
    “Where’s your passport?”
    I dug into my messenger bag and came up with it for him.
    “And the entry and exit visa?”

    136

    Mary Calmes

    “It’s in there.”
    “Where’s the customs declaration form?”
    “They don’t need that to let us in the country. We’re just supposed to
    keep that ’til we leave.”
    “How long is the visa for?”
    “Two weeks.”
    “Okay.” He yawned, and because he was calm, I was.
    I realized for the millionth time in my life that I could look at Crane
    Adams and gauge how I should be. I trembled quickly, trying to think of
    what I would have done without him.
    “We’re up,” he said, bumping me with his shoulder as we walked
    forward.
    Once we had our passports stamped and were in the actual airport
    proper, we had to claim our luggage and then stand in line again, the non-
    citizen line, to have our luggage clear customs. We had only brought
    clothes, so there were no duties or taxes to pay, but the whole experience
    was nerve-racking for me. Just the idea that I could be kept out of the
    country, kept away from Logan, scared the hell out of me. It was illogical,
    but I was terrified.
    “See, we’re fine,” Crane announced, and just him stating the obvious
    made me feel better.
    The airport was busy, the zoo they all were, and because it looked
    like almost every other one I had been in, my sense of unease dissipated.
    There were supposed to be people there to meet us; the maahes of
    the tribe of Khertet, Chuluun Borjigin, was the man we were looking for.
    “Jesus, it’s even cold in here,” Yuri groused from behind me,
    looking like he was ready to go dog sledding instead of just leaving the
    airport.
    We were all swaddled up in parkas, beanies, gloves, boots, long
    underwear, and scarves.
    “It’s gonna be worse outside,” Andrian assured him.
    “Jin.”
    I turned to look at Yuri, and he tipped his head for me. Looking to
    where he had gestured, I saw the three men cutting through the crowd
    toward us. Even from where they were, the scent of cat clung to them. The
    power rolling off of them was daunting.

    Honored Vow

    137

    They stopped five feet from us, and the looks we were getting were
    less than kind. “Snide” was the word I would have chosen.
    “Sain bainuu,” the first man said.
    I had no idea I was supposed to have learned Mongolian. Holy crap.
    No one said a word until there was a faint clearing of a throat.
    Turning, I looked at Danny. He smiled faintly.
    Was he kidding?
    “May I?” He gestured to where I was. “My semel asked me to learn
    as much as I could of the language.”
    Logan had asked Danny to study up. The man thought of everything.
    “Sure.”
    Moving up beside me, he then looked at the man who had spoken.
    “Sain ta sain bainuu?”
    The man was surprised that he was being responded to. “Sain
    banaa,” he said in return. “Ta yamar ulsaas irsen be?”
    “Bi Amerikiin Negdsen ulsaas irsen,” Danny replied. “Ta angular
    yairdaguu?”
    “Yes,” the man replied. “You did well.”
    “Thank you so much,” he said as he smiled at him. “Tand ikh
    bayarlaa.”
    The man who had been addressing Danny grunted at him. “So which
    one is the mate?” He sounded like he was bored out of his mind.
    I stepped forward. “I’m the mate.”
    “Oh,” he grunted. “The reah.”
    And normally I got a little better reception than that.
    “Not a big deal to you guys, huh?” Crane smirked at them. “See
    reahs every day, do you?”
    “We have our own.”
    This was news.
    “Oh yeah?” Crane chuckled. “Who’s that?”
    “Amirah Fehr.”
    “Amirah.” I squinted at him. “We were told that Amirah Fehr had
    been killed by her semel.”
    “No,” he told me, and I heard it finally, a trace of an accent as he
    spoke. “She asked for sanctuary with my semel and was granted it.”

    138

    Mary Calmes

    “Does the priest know?” Taj asked him.
    “He knows now.”

There was a silence.
    “Well, even if you have a reah in your tribe, this is our reah,” Crane
    told him, “and you need to show him the proper respect.”
    “Or?”
    “Or….” I parted my lips, let my power out, let it uncoil and hunt.
    “You can feel the difference between reah and nekhene.”
    “I—”
    “Jin,” Crane cautioned me.
    But we had been working on things, he and