Meditation proved far easier once Riordan settled on his goals. Frankie would be so damn smug about it, but he guessed she’d earned that, being a wise and correct teacher after all. Riordan still couldn’t cast anything, his magic requiring concentration to connect with, but the energy flowed through his body a little easier and the magic roiled a little less.

The disturbances to his inner world were slowly settling. Riordan just needed to be patient. Or at least stubborn. Stubbornness could substitute for patience in a pinch.

His inner world and the effort of moving bits of magic from inhale to exhale drowned out the inner world. The practice soothed and exhausted in equal measure. Riordan pushed himself, because he always did and because he wanted to hone his will to become the foundation of his new magic.

As such, he missed noticing when more people entered the workspace, too lost in his own task. It wasn’t until Riordan felt someone sitting down next to him that he opened his eyes and realized he wasn’t alone.

Hendrika Heeren, highest ranking of the newest agents, sat beside him, somehow appearing dignified perching on a cushion on the floor. She smiled at him once she saw he was looking at her.

“Hello,” she said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your meditation, but I saw you in here and was hoping for a chance to talk more. I know we didn’t get off to the best of starts. I can do better than that, especially if we are going to work together.”

“Work together?” Riordan asked cautiously, latching onto the most worrisome part of her small speech.

He glanced around the room. Frankie was watching them from the far side of the room, though her attention was split between Riordan and some exercise Lucinda was completing for Frankie. Riordan wasn’t her only student, after all, just her most problematic one.

“The changes to the tree spirit need to be assessed for future risks. That seems to be impossible without your assistance,” Heeren pointed out.

“You’d think the fact that my help is needed to reach it would help with the risk assessment,” Riordan commented dryly. “It wants to be left alone.”

“I understand your concerns, Mr. Kincaid,” Heeren offered, “and I really hope that it gets its wish, but human nature isn’t so tidy. If knowledge of this spirit gets out, then someone is going to come looking for it. We need to be prepared for the consequences of that when it happens.”

“Riordan,” he corrected, “I don’t like formality. And what makes you so sure someone will come?”

“Riordan, then,” Heeren allowed, smiling. “People will come because spirits aligned with death are rare on this side of the Veil, especially death that is not destructive to handle and with the natural elements of the circle of life. Furthermore, this spirit has been successfully used in death magic rituals before, making it both an object of study and a target for future rituals.”

That seemed pretty thin as explanations went. Riordan suspected there was more that she wasn’t telling him. As it was, her excuse had holes in it. “And how would that information get out? Most of the people who even know of the spirit don’t know what happened to it during and after the ritual.”

“Any information known by a group is bound to get out eventually,” Heeren sighed. “Someone always talks. I fear that the Department could be a source of leaks in the future too, just because our agents are so accustomed to sharing everything with their mage houses and are still getting used to the boundaries of operational confidentiality.”

“Including yourself?” Riordan asked.

Heeren laughed and shrugged. “Including myself. I’ve gotten better about it, but my family is the sort to dig out any secrets I attempt to keep.”

“Is Heeren the main family of mind magic in the area then?”

She looked startled, either because he was calling her out on her main affinity or because Riordan didn’t have all the mage great houses memorized already. “Yes, it is. My uncle is the current head of House Heeren, which has primary jurisdiction over the mind affinity in North American region.”

So she was not just a member of the main branch of that house, but a high ranked one with strong family ties. Riordan raised a brow. “What made you join the Department of Magic instead of taking up a position within your House?”

“What else? Politics, of course.”

Riordan waited, but she didn’t go on automatically. He prompted, “How so?”

She shrugged as if it was not a big deal, but Riordan rather suspected that it really was. “The Department of Magic represents major changes in the way our community is governed and policed, Riordan. The world is changing. As mages, we are accustomed to guiding the direction of such change. We could hardly pass up an opportunity to join the Department in its early stages and help establish the foundations for the future.”

Riordan listened to that and then translated it out of diplomatic speech. The mage houses made the department. Any house that didn’t get in on the department now would find policies being made that were less favorable towards them than in the past. Therefore all the houses sent people to make sure their concerns were represented.

Gods, it was a wonder the Department of Magic worked at all with that much cross-purposes political lobbying and favoritism going on.

“Do you like your job?” Riordan asked, thinking about how much being part of a political bureaucracy would drive him crazy.

Heeren laughed, apparently at ease and friendly in this space. “Most days. I like working with people and this job challenges me as well. I’m never bored.”

Riordan snorted. “No, I would imagine not.”

“Would you be interested in such work?” Heeren asked. Her tone was casual, guileless, but Riordan had to wonder if the question was as innocent as it seemed.

His doubts didn’t change his answer anyway. “Hell no,” Riordan waved a hand as if to fend off the possibility. “I don’t have the patience for that and the work is all wrong for me. I’m a shaman, not a mage. I can work with a pack, barely, but a department? No.”

Heeren startled at his vehemence. “You seriously feel that strongly about it?”

“Look,” Riordan resettled himself on his cushion to face her more directly, “what is the role of a mage, to you?”

“To study and use magic wisely for the betterment of the world as a whole,” Heeren replied, her answer quick and rote as if memorized. “The more we understand the underlying structure of the world and how we can safely harness its power, the better lives we can live.”

“So magic is about gaining and using knowledge to live better lives?”

“Succinctly, yes,” Heeren agreed. She seemed more cautious now, as if waiting for Riordan to close some clever word trap on her. “A responsible mage does so without disrupting the magical environment, of course. Sustainability and minimizing damage matters greatly in the long run.”

“That puts you ahead of a lot of human organizations,” Riordan said, approving of that at least, “What is a shaman to you?”

Heeren seemed torn between answers for a moment before saying, “A shaman is the heart of a pack. They fulfill the magical and emotional needs of their community.”

“And the other answer you wanted to say?” Riordan prompted, curious if she’d answer.

Her gaze narrowed slightly, studying him, but Heeren finally added, “A shaman is a shifter mage. Not that shifters aren’t also mages, technically.”

“And there’s the biggest disconnect,” Riordan nodded, “Shifters are technically mages. Shaman too. But we don’t think of ourselves that way. We think of ourselves as shifters. Our affinity is tied to our culture. A shaman might be the magical powerhouse of a pack, but they are a shifter first, before they are anything else.”

“What’s your point with this?” Heeren asked, managing to sound more curious than annoyed.

“That as a shifter, I want to exist in a pack, a community tied to each other who will put each other first. Being a shaman is in support of that community, both my pack and the larger network of packs and then beyond that to the magical community and the world as a whole.” Riordan paused, searching for words. “Being part of an organization like the Department of Magic which is a job and not a community wouldn’t work for me. Not really.”

“Having a shifter in the Department could be very important in making sure that shifter rights are properly represented in policy,” Heeren countered.

Riordan’s eyes narrowed in return. “Morgan’s Code and basic human decency should do that. Unless you are saying that the Department, and the mages that make it up, are looking for ways to place themselves in power over shifters?”

“No, of course not,” Heeren quickly waved that thought away. “But, as you are saying, shifters have different needs. Wouldn’t it be good to have someone who understood that poised to help? I’m sure you would have been more comfortable with the Department’s aid in this current situation if we could have fielded shifter agents.”

“Maybe, but the shifters would have to operate as their own special pack within the Department,” Riordan said, considering it seriously. “There are some small packs of specialists who move around based on their work, so it’s not an entirely foreign idea. Then they would act as a mercenary unit or contractor or something to the Department, within it but not fully a part of it.”

“Really?” Heeren seemed genuinely interested in Riordan’s observation. “Shifters do that?”

“Sure,” Riordan replied. “You mostly see the settled packs when you are dealing with larger politics, but there are a lot of tiny packs out there, just a handful of people who are settled in their own areas or who travel together. I was in a mercenary pack at one point. Our pack leader handled any contracts, picking what we would or wouldn’t do, and we looked to him for leadership, even when doing a job for someone else.”

“So if we formed a mercenary pack, you’d be willing to join? Your past experience would be as useful as your current talents.”

Riordan’s expression flattened immediately, his voice clipped and harsh. “No. I won’t ever be a mercenary again.”

Heeren’s own expression went politely neutral in response to this unexpected verbal landmine she’d triggered. “Why not?”

“Because last time, it ended with my exile and the execution of the rest of my pack. I personally can’t trust that kind of pack again.”