“I have no problem with that promise,” Daniel said after a moment, studying Riordan with shrewd eyes, “but will you tell me why I need to hide this from the agents?”

With a sigh, Riordan let his head drop back against the tree he was sitting in front of, searching for the words. He gestured for Daniel to join him and the ghost moved to sit next to him.

“The short answer is that your new ability is based on a seriously nasty piece of forbidden magic,” Riordan explained. “We came across it at the cult’s compound in a secret basement room, which means that the Department is informed about it and up in arms because it has the potential to ruin mages. The tree spirit cleaned up the remnants of it last night.”

“Oh,” Daniel said before lapsing into a thoughtful silence. Then he added, “That explains why it felt like it was holding the ability as a foreign thing that it wanted somewhere safe to put.”

Riordan snorted, giving his friend a look. “It felt like that and you weren’t concerned.”

“You know me. I’m not so bright sometimes,” Daniel said with a lopsided grin. “Learned it from you.”

“Heaven help us all,” Riordan laughed.

The silence fell again and Riordan soaked in the calm of the growing morning. The shade felt cool against his skin, but scraps of sunlight filtered through the leaves and needles to play across them. He heard the pack in the pack house and Mark’s scolding in the workshop and the calls of birds in the woods. That chaotic and peaceful sense of life sank into him.

“I’m not worried,” Riordan finally said. “You won’t abuse that power. The tree made the right decision giving it to you for safekeeping.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just hated feeling useless.”

“You aren’t useless, Daniel, and never were, but I get it. It’s not enough to know you aren’t useless; you have to feel it too.”

Riordan struggled with enough of his own demons to know how bad a negative thought could take root and fester. Daniel had at least done something about it instead of wallowing. The young man had grit, for all that he really wasn’t a fighter. That was fine. Riordan could fight for both of them if needed and would welcome a calmer life in between trouble.

Daniel smiled and relaxed. Riordan hadn’t realized how much Daniel had needed to hear that from him. He had no idea how to be a good friend, but damned if he wasn’t trying. Riordan reached out and patted Daniel on the shoulder.

The pair of them winced as a particularly high pitched admonition came from the workshop. They both looked that way.

“Think we should help him?” Daniel asked.

Riordan shook his head. “Hell no. Mark is adult enough to have done this, which means he is adult enough to take his scolding. Besides, I’m not going to bother those women when they are upset. I’m crazy but not that crazy.”

“I’m pretty sure you are that crazy,” Daniel countered. Then a flash of vulnerability crossed his face. “You really aren’t upset at Mark or me?”

“How much of a hypocrite do you think I am?” Riordan reached out, using the new ability to touch Daniel to convey his seriousness as he laid a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I am your friend, right? That means I’m on your side. I get why you did this and am glad it seems to have worked out, even if trading Disney movies for magical power is a new one.”

Daniel laid a hand over Riordan’s, looking relieved. “Thanks. And if no one has offered Disney to spirits before, then I feel bad for the spirits. It’s not my fault you all lack imagination.”

Riordan burst out laughing. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

The contemplative mood broke when Riordan’s stomach growled, reminding him that this mess had woken him up early and there had been other things to worry about aside from food. But now that he’d slowed down again, there was no reason he couldn’t do something about breakfast.

Daniel snickered at him. “Got a badger in your tummy?”

“Yep,” Riordan replied, levering himself up off the ground, grateful that shifter regeneration kept him from getting achy joints. “Don’t tease or maybe I’ll see if boosted ghost is tasty.”

“You wouldn’t.” Daniel pressed a hand over his heart and edged away.

“Wouldn’t I?” Riordan grinned before laughing and heading towards the pack house.

He wasn’t in the mood for too much company, still prickly from, well, everything. Riordan knew he needed to get used to people, pack specifically, but he’d been dodging just that for nearly two decades. He couldn’t be mad at himself for not getting over that in two weeks or less.

Well, he could be mad at himself about it, but that didn’t mean it was any more of a realistic expectation.

Still, Riordan managed a smile for Norris when he slipped inside the kitchen. “Got breakfast for a hungry shifter?”

Norris waved at the buffet banquet set up on the side board. “Help yourself. I’ll make more if you prove extra hungry.”

Given Norris cooked enough to feed a whole horde of shifters for every meal, there was plenty for Riordan. He ignored the cluster of folks in the kitchen even as he felt their eyes on him and the way conversation dimmed when he’d entered.

Instead, he took the moment to study Norris. There was a shifter with nerves of steel. The old man was getting to the point where even shifter regeneration couldn’t fix everything, but he was made of whipcord, strong and tough despite having lost muscle mass to age. He’d put himself into the hands of the death mages in order to gain information and opportunity. He’d been lined up as a potential sacrifice for the killing tree ritual.

Norris had also been the one to slit Phenalope’s throat. A fine, neat, lethal cut in the middle of a magical shitstorm. And here he was, back to cooking breakfast and bouncing babies on his knees. Retirement didn’t remove the skills he’d earned in his long life, even if he chose to use other ones.

And wasn’t that a lesson to remember. Riordan was hoping to step away from his roots and walk a new path in life, but he wouldn’t be able to get rid of those fighter’s instincts and awareness. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, honestly. Life threw curveballs often enough. It was better to be prepared.

An idea occurred to Riordan. Something he’d been wanting to do but kept putting off. With Daniel all solid-ish, now seemed a good time.

“Can you pack me a lunch, Norris?” Riordan asked.

As quick as a grandpa getting candy for a grandkid, Norris whipped open the fridge and started putting together a bag with several pre-made containers. “Going out?”

“Yeah,” Riordan said, “I think I will. I want to see if I can talk with Daniel’s aunt.”

It was about an hour’s drive to Traverse City. He’d need to borrow a vehicle. Riordan really hadn’t planned this yet.

He looked up and Norris held out a packed lunch and a set of the pack’s car keys. “Who is acting as your pack-approved babysitter?” Norris asked.

Riordan blinked, surprised at Norris’ efficiency, and then groaned as the question sank in. “Crap, I need one of those, don’t I.”

“Take Mark,” Norris ordered.

Of all the possibilities, Riordan preferred that one, except… “He’s in trouble this morning. Do you think Vera and Frankie would let me borrow him?”

“A little distance and community service would give everyone a chance to calm down and remember that Mark is old enough to make his own decisions now,” Norris advised. “Which I’ll remind my ex-wife and shaman if needed.”

Riordan nodded sympathetically. “It can be hard when you watch someone grow up.”

Norris was older than most shifters, at least one hundred and fifty. He’d seen it all. The old man smiled crookedly. “Vera and I haven’t been with Sleeping Bear as long as all that, though I expect that we’ll be here until age finally gets us now. But Frankie was there to see the boy born. Vera has her responsibilities as pack leader. Frankie has hers as shaman and as second mother to that young man. It can be hard to sort out all of that emotional mess from their obligations and see things for what they are.”

Someone had clearly given Norris the short version of this morning’s drama. Riordan asked, “In that case, can you make the request? It’ll be better received coming from you than from me.”

“Wise, and yes. Go make the rest of your preparations and I’ll send Mark your way.”

Riordan retreated then, partly because he didn’t want to air any more of his business in front of the pack (and their potential gossip machine) and partly because he knew he looked crazy when he talked with Daniel.

Because his friend was staring at him rather hard right now, barely containing what he wanted to say.

As soon as Riordan made it outside, Daniel invisibly on his heel, the ghost asked, “You’re really going to go see my aunt?”

“Going to try, anyway,” Riordan replied. He stopped, turning to meet Daniel’s eyes so his friend might see his sincerity. “You asked me to tell her myself if I could, and possibly more than just the police version. It’s been a couple days since we turned your body over. It’s time.”

Riordan reached out and patted Daniel on the shoulder before adding, “Besides, maybe your new stuff will help prove your presence if it goes that way.”

The absolutely floored look on Daniel’s face told Riordan that thought hadn’t occurred to him yet, that being able to interact with the world, even in a limited manner, might allow for some contact with the remnants of his lost life. That changed… probably everything for Daniel. He straddled the edge of dead and alive more evenly now.

Life constantly changed, even for the dead. Riordan promised himself that he’d help Daniel make the most of it.