Colin, can ye hear me?
Duncan had felt the thread go taut the moment his son lifted the sling.
He had been standing in the back garden of the house in the Philippines for the better part of two hours, barefoot on the warm grass, with Julie's hand in his and the pups stretched out in the shade at the foot of the steps.
Hades had come out to stand beside him an hour ago without a word, and had since taken up a post on the back steps with his arms folded, watching the pups the way a man watches a fire he has been told not to let go out. Fujin had gone quiet near the gate. Nobody had asked either of them to stay.
The late morning sun lay hard on the tiles. Across the sea, it was still the dark hour before dawn in Scotland, and he had not moved since the first sound of the beast reached him.
He did not speak. He only held the line open, the way he had held his breath on a cold night beside a loch, and let his son feel that someone was there.
I can hear ye, Father.
Aye.
