Toby repeated Rule's correction, but his face was pure stubbornness. "The Rho did it because you could both get killed."

Rule nodded. "You're right. We can't know what will happen in battle, and we can't risk losing the mantle entirely. But I am a very good fighter-and your grandfather is undefeated."

Toby frowned hard. "That's 'cause he doesn't fight Uncle Benedict."

"True." Rule's throat closed.

Toby looked at Benedict, standing tall and grim on Rule's left. "It's temporary, though. Giving Uncle Benedict the heir's portion of the mantle is temporary."

Benedict spoke gravely. "That, as always, is the Rho's decision. But I do not want it. And the mantle does not want me. It wants my brother."

That startled Rule. "You can tell-"

"Hush," Isen said. "Toby, you must go to the Center with the other children now."

Toby nodded, but spoke, low and fierce, to his father. "I don't want to be here. I don't want to be safe when everybody else isn't!"

"No more than I would want to be safe if you weren't. But it eases me to know you're safe, and it's for me to go and you to stay. You've the harder duty tonight. As does Benedict, and the others who don't go to battle with us. It is very hard to wait."

"I-I want you to go. I want you to get Lily back, and Cynna. You have to." Toby's voice didn't quiver, but it was a near thing. "But I don't see why you and Grandpa both have to go."

Rule glanced at his father, standing to his right. Isen spoke. "You understand what happens tonight? You understand why this is not just a rescue of two clan members?"

Toby nodded. "It's not just about them. It's about the clan, too, because of the memories, and the Lady."

"Yes. You must also know that a Rho doesn't call war and sit back from battle. In this battle I must be close, for without the mantle, the charms the Rhej made won't work. And without your father, of course, we could not find Lily and Cynna." He clapped Rule on the back. "Not that I'd be able to hold him back, anyway, with Lily in danger. But we need him."

Toby sniffed, nodded, and stood as straight as a nine-year-old body could. "Okay. I'll see you later, too, Grandpa." That was said defiantly.

Isen laid his hand on Toby's head. "You will. And whether you believe such promises or not, I promise it. Go with Sybil now."

The child tender led Toby away. He would wait with her at the Center, with other children whose fathers went to battle tonight.

That was a small number. Only those with charms to guard them from mind-magic would fight, and even going without sleep, the Rhej had been able to make only ten of those in the twenty-six hours since Lily and Cynna were taken. She'd used a spell from the memories to make those charms . . . a spell lost to the rest of the world since before the founding of Rome. A spell that been used in the Great War, and not since.

Those charms should protect against the Chimei-but they didn't know how much. Lupi had never fought against Chimei. They wouldn't know how well the charms worked against this particular enemy until they faced her.

But though only a dozen would fight tonight, in a few moments, all of Nokolai would be at war. If neither Rule nor his father came back from tonight's battle, Benedict would be Nokolai's Rho-and he would continue the war.

This, for lupi, was the meaning of war: it didn't end until the enemy was defeated. There might be lulls, but there were no truces.

All lupi had been at war with one enemy-their Lady's enemy-for more than three thousand years. That she had been far from their realm and untouchable for most of that time changed nothing. They remained at war with the Great Bitch, and would until she was dead or forever defeated.

Isen gathered his two living sons with a glance. The three of them strode into the waiting throng.

The crowd of lupi fell silent. Waiting.

When the three men reached the center of the field, they halted. Rule and Benedict stationed themselves to either side of their Rho and a couple paces back.

Isen raised his arms and his voice. "Nokolai! You have heard of our enemies. You know what they have done. Twice they attacked one of ours-at a baby party, and at the hospital. Twice they failed. And now they have stolen our Chosen, touched by the Lady-"

Growls erupted from more than three hundred throats not designed for growling.

"They have stolen her, and our Rhej's apprentice. You know Cynna. You know she is with child, carrying a clan babe, a lupus babe. They threaten her. They threaten the baby."

The growls were louder this time. A few of the younger men lost control and Changed.

"But Cynna is more than a mother, precious as that is. They have stolen she who will carry the clan's memories! She who will bring the Lady among us! Lady-touched, both of them-Chosen and Rhej-to-be, both taken!"

Now they howled-human and lupine throats alike.

"Our enemies are powerful. Make no doubt of that. One-the Chimei-is ancient and canny, and cannot be killed. She can control the perceptions of hundreds at a time. She feeds on fear. I am told that if she is allowed to fully manifest herself, she will be more powerful than any who have walked this earth since the Great War. Her sorcerer has power, too, and spells we can't guess at, and he shares some of her immunity to damage, so he will be hard to kill. And together they have allies, human gangs. This is no small thing we do, going against such foes."

The answering growls were low, and to Rule's ears said clearly, "Who cares?"

"But we have a sorcerer, too. And allies of our own-some here, some elsewhere." Isen waved-and a huge black shape descended from the sky to land at the far end of the field. He had riders, two human shapes who bestrode his shoulders near the base of the neck. One was female, and old. One was male and recovering from a heart wound-and very good with fire.

"Nokolai." Now Isen's voice dropped to a normal level. Every man and wolf on the field fell silent, straining to hear. "Our Rhej has spoken to me-because the Lady has spoken to her."

Utter silence. There was no shifted foot, no slightest rustle of clothing, no quickly indrawn breath.

"The Lady gave our Rhej one word." His voice was quiet now, conversational. Only lupus hearing enabled those at the edges of the crowd to hear. "One word." He waited, then boomed, "Nokolai-I cry war!"

THIRTY-SEVEN.

THE glowing lightbulbs didn't turn off. It was hard to tell time in a windowless room where the light didn't change. Had they been there two days? It was more than one day, Lily thought, but she didn't know how much more.

"Gin," Cynna said, spreading her cards.

"You're going to clean me out of my imaginary millions."

"I'm up by three hundred big ones, by my count. You're not paying attention."

No, she was too busy worrying.

Rule had found her already. She'd felt him draw close, then linger in one spot perhaps a hundred yards away. And then he'd left. He'd left a very long time ago.

He needed to plan, she told herself. Whatever he planned might take time to pull together. That made sense. The long delay did not mean something had happened to him. He was alive; she knew that much.

But wouldn't Kun Nu enjoy having a second hostage to use against Lily? Wouldn't she relish the shock as she dumped Rule's unconscious body in the little prison with Lily and Cynna?

Lily pushed to her feet. "I'm not good at waiting. I'm not good at not doing something. I'm going to do some stretches."

"That's part of Bird Woman's plan, making us wait. Making you wait, I should say," Cynna said matter-of-factly as she gathered the cards again. "She doesn't care if I get antsy and jumpy, but she's hoping you do."

"I know. I still need to move."

There was one small open space of floor between the bunks and the cot. Lily lay down there, trying to focus on her body and breath. She stretched her arms over her head.

The earth groaned. And twitched.

It was a quiet sound, almost a grumbling, as if the rocks around them had a minor complaint-one they threw off with a little shudder Lily felt all along her body.

She looked at Cynna and saw the fear in her friend's eyes, a fear that matched her own. Then, determinedly, she began her yoga stretches.

This was the third time they'd heard the noise. The third time the earth had trembled. The first time it happened, Lily had been hit by the irrational hope that the little shudder might somehow mean help was coming, even though she knew Rule wasn't near.

Cynna's guess was more likely. "Is it her?" she'd whispered. "Is she pulling a shake, rattle, and roll on us?" Lily had had no trouble figuring out what she meant. The Chimei might well be causing mini-quakes to scare them.

If so, she'd hit on a great technique. There was a crack in one wall now, up near the ceiling. Dust sifted down from that crack as Lily brought her knees to her chest.

It was also possible that the little tremors had nothing to do with them or the Chimei. This was California. Quakes happened.

LIKE any war, this one involved a good deal of waiting.

It was after midnight. Rule lay flat on his stomach in the dirt, taking advantage of the cover offered by scrubby growth at the edge of a small woods-sage and bindweed and some kind of sedge, their scents mingling with that of the tiny white flowers on a struggling toyon bush.

Also with the scent of the hamburgers the gang members had grilled earlier, and that of the other lupi hiding, as he was, in the weeds and grasses around a dilapidated house just outside the city. One of them lay very near Rule-one who must be finding this wait extremely difficult. Cullen often said he was not a patient man.

The clouds had moved off, the moon was three-quarters full, and Rule could see his targets clearly. From Rule's vantage point he could see the side of the house, some of the front yard, and most of the back-if you could call bare dirt a yard. The house they watched had probably been abandoned for years before its current occupants moved in. If not, someone had liked living rough. The roof had fallen in on one side. There was a porch light out front and two floodlights in back-the floodlights apparently so the gang members could see to play cards and drink beer.

Sixteen were in view now. There were thirty-six altogether. Four of the others were patrolling the area immediately around the house, though with their limited senses it didn't do them much good. The rest were sleeping in the more intact part of the house.

Thirty-six armed gangbangers against a dozen lupi warriors and one sorcerer. Good odds, especially since the lupi wearing charms were Benedict's best. The obvious move was to kill the sentries silently, then shoot the ones drinking and playing cards outside from a safe distance, then go in and clean up the sleepers. Nasty, but obvious.

Also disastrous. The place was warded to hell and gone. One of those wards, the outer one, was made to repel small objects like mosquitoes or bullets.

Fortunately, getting in the house wasn't the goal, unless things went wrong. Lily wasn't there.

Rule's mate sense wasn't as strong as Lily's, or maybe he wasn't as good at reading it as she was. But from this close, it was crystal clear. He knew exactly where she was . . . roughly twenty feet behind the house, and at least that far underground.

He took some comfort from her nearness, even as he swore silently at the wait. He hoped she took comfort in knowing he was near, too-though she might well be cursing him for doing nothing for such a long time.

But this part wasn't his to do. Only, dammit, if they didn't hurry, the Chimei and her lover would be back, and then- Cullen poked his side. He looked at his friend, who was still pale. He wasn't healed, wasn't ready for this, but they needed him. Which was just as well. Needed or not, he would have come.

Cullen tipped his chin to their right.

A small, gray-skinned head poked up out of the dirt ten feet away. It was hairless and too round, but had the appropriate number of eyes with a single nose placed between them and the mouth. But the nose was somewhere between pug and snout, the chin was missing, and the eyes were too large altogether.

The gnome looked around, blinking, until he saw Rule, then heaved himself up out of the ground. Only after he left it could Rule see that there was, indeed, a hole there.

He trotted over to them. He was wearing fuchsia shorts with yellow suspenders. "Is having troubles," he whispered. "Granite upcropping. Hard to work with, is. Stubborn."

Rule spoke in a voice too soft too carry-not truly subvocalizing, though, because gnomes' hearing was as limited as humans'. "You told me about the granite an hour ago."

"Is stubborn, granite," he repeated, his big eyes blinking. Gnomes in this realm lived underground, and this youngster seemed to be one who was adapted for darkness. "Is also problem of ward. Very good ward someone is building. Max is saying to telling of you, thirty minutes maybe. Maybe less, maybe more. Is having go slow. Reshaping too much, too fast, and ward is triggering, rock collapsing."

That was almost exactly what he'd said the last time he popped up to give them a progress report. Rule held on to what remained of his patience. The little gnome was someone's nephew-one of the elders, he thought. The elders who were currently repaying a debt by tunneling through stone to reach the bomb shelter behind the house.

The gnomish elders could move rock magically-and they could do it without triggering the ward. "Thank you. If you would give the Rho that information, I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

Blink, blink. "Where is he being?"

"The same place he was the last time you brought us a report. Over by the large boulder you admired."

The little fellow gave a single nod and trotted off.

Rule settled down to wait.

Tonight's mission was to get Lily and Cynna out. Get them to safety. Ideally, they would do that without a fight, for the Chimei and the sorcerer weren't here. Sam had claimed he could lure them away, and he'd been right. When Rule led Max and Cullen to this house, the Chimei and her lover had been gone.

That was early in the afternoon, around one. More than eleven hours ago. Max had brought the elders, and they'd been working ever since. Tunneling toward the bomb shelter. Slowly.

Faster than anyone else could do it, Rule reminded himself. Certainly no one else could do it as secretly as the gnomes. And as hard as the waiting was, every hour the Chimei and sorcerer didn't come was another hour closer to getting Lily and Cynna out. Another hour, too, for Cullen to heal. At this point, every hour of healing helped.

Rescuing the women would not end the war. That would end only with their enemies' deaths or complete defeat. If Rule lived through this night and their enemies were undefeated, he would travel to Leidolf Clanhome and call Leidolf to war. If Isen lived, he would call up Nokolai's subject clans, who must answer a call to war.

And if neither of them lived, Benedict would become Rho. And he would call up Nokolai's subject clans, and continue the war.

The Lady had granted the Rhej one word. That word was war.

From well behind him, a mourning dove called. Rule stiffened. That was the signal from the lookout near the road. Someone was coming. If the lookout could see who it was, and that he was short and Asian, he'd . . .

The dove called again, twice.

That was it, then. The sorcerer was coming. They were out of time.

Isen had never been very good at birdcalls. The rapid-fire coo-coo-coo-coo of a black-billed cuckoo-which didn't actually live in California-was the only one he could do well. "Plan B," Rule whispered.

Cullen gripped Rule's arm, then pointed at the sky and whispered, "That's her."

What? Rule didn't . . . No, wait-something pale and misty, almost invisible, flowed along a route he thought followed the dirt road that led here, as if following a car on that road. He switched to subvocalizing. "What do you see?"

Cullen answered the same way. "Power. Lots and lots of it."

"Do you think she's finished the transformation Sam spoke of?"

"I don't know. The power is . . . It's different than anything I've seen before. It oscillates, or flickers, or . . . maybe it isn't fully in our realm. Maybe she can't hold it here consistently until she's here consistently."

"That would be good." He glanced to his left, at the tall boulder where he'd sent the gnome. His father wasn't visible, of course. He forced himself to relax. And waited some more.

"Dammit," Cullen muttered very low, "they're supposed to have been tracking the patrollers. How long does it take to-"