Trusted Bond

dark cavern of the room. He did
    not reappear, and when I was certain he was gone, I put my head down
    between my paws and went to sleep. I needed to rest, because I knew I
    would need every drop of strength I possessed.

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    143

    Chapter 12

    THE following morning, all the yareahs and I were again called to the
    dining room to have breakfast with the semel-aten. I was last in and
    immediately dressed-down for my tardiness. Sympathetic glances, instead
    of frightened ones, were tossed my way.
    After we ate, I was sitting, waiting, not knowing what was on the
    agenda for the day, when the door opened and Jamal, along with other
    members of the Shu, walked in. I watched intently as he spoke briefly to
    the semel.
    ―Reah!‖ Ammon called for me seconds later, and I moved quickly,
    crossing the room to him. Stopping a few feet away, I bowed as I had seen
    the other women do the day before, as well as that morning when they
    were escorted in. He seemed pleasantly surprised by my show of
    deference; his brows lifted, his face relaxed, and he gave me a slight bow
    in return.
    ―Jin,‖ Jamal addressed me, stepping in front of me. ―I bring you
    news.‖
    I waited.
    ―The priest has been informed that you were kidnapped from your
    home by Laurent Bruyere‘s men. Your beset Crane Adams was in the
    house when you were taken, but the men apparently did not realize he was
    there. They were merely khatyu, not a powerful cat among them, and so
    did not discover his whereabouts.‖
    I was glad; I had been worried about Crane. I knew he had either
    been found or rendered unconscious by the same darts that had been used
    on Logan and the others. The fact that he had figured out who took me
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    was a miracle, or perhaps Crane had simply overheard people talking.
    Whatever the case, he had told Logan that Laurent had me. I was so
    grateful.
    ―The priest wants you removed from the semel‘s home and brought
    to the temple of Satis.‖
    ―What did you say?‖ Ammon snapped at him.
    I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up with the reaction of
    the semel-aten.
    ―Jamal?‖
    ―The priest wants the reah taken to his temple.‖
    I looked back and forth between the semel and the phocal. Of the
    two places, I would rather be with the priest, safely away from Ammon El
    Masry.
    ―It‘s only until he gets there,‖ Jamal soothed me. ―He just wants to
    make sure you‘re safe.‖
    But a bolt of fear shot through me as I was certain the semel would
    never allow me to leave. My head filled with pain a second before there
    was screaming.
    ―Reah, enough!‖
    But there was nothing I could do.
    ―Come with me,‖ Jamal ordered, gesturing me forward.
    ―No.‖ Ammon‘s voice rose over the cacophony of the swooning
    yareahs. ―I forbid it! You will not take the reah from my home!‖
    Jamal was stunned; it was all over his face. He exchanged looks with
    the others with him, and they looked as confused as he did.
    ―Get out!‖ Ammon commanded him, dismissing him with a sweep
    of his hand.
    ―I am the phocal of the priest of Chae Rophon,‖ Jamal shouted back
    at him, the anger suddenly rolling off him. ―How dare you think to dismiss
    me?‖
    ―You will—‖
    ―No,‖ Jamal said, cutting him off. ―You will surrender the reah
    now.‖
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    145

    Ammon turned to look over his shoulder at one of the servants
    standing close by. ―Call Roshan Tabir to me and have him summon the
    khatyu.‖
    ―You dare refuse a direct order from the priest of Chae Rophon and
    the council of Ennead! He has sent me to bring him the reah! You have no
    choice but to obey!‖
    ―You forget whose land you‘re on, phocal,‖ Ammon said coldly as
    the door opened, and Roshan Tabir was there. They had to have been just
    outside in the courtyard.
    ―Secure the reah!‖ Jamal shouted the order to his men.
    ―Guard the reah!‖ Ammon yelled over him.
    I was a thing, not a man; no one said my name at any time. I was
    never Jin. I hated them all. And in the chaos, I was sure something would
    go wrong. I was sure I was going to be killed. Accidentally or on purpose,
    someone would end my life either in trying to protect me or on the order
    of the suddenly deranged semel-aten. There was no recourse but to run.
    I ran.
    I tore the keffiyeh from my head, kicked off the slippers, ducked
    under the table, the cries of the terrified yareahs deafening around me, and
    tore off the gallibaya. I was a panther by the time