Shapeshifters (26 page)

A
S SOON AS THE COURT REALIZED
that Danica was well enough to be social, they dragged her into the midst of their gossip, advice and congratulations. The next several days seemed surreal contrasted with the encounters of the ones before. Danica handled the crowds well, though I noticed her harried expression whenever she caught my eye across the room.

I recognized her people's need to be reassured that she was all right. Rumors traveled as fast through the Keep as they did in sha'Mehay, and as much as I wanted to speak to her privately, I knew I could wait until the evening. For now, Danica needed to be queen to her people.

Kel approached me at dusk to discuss falcons and her temporary position as flight leader.

“Every now and then I sense a falcon in the marketplace,” she admitted when asked, “but these falcons are always powerless. When they escape the island, the Empress lets them go. So long as they are careful not to have children here, they
are no threat to her. I have never recognized one of my own here who would be worthy of Syfka's attention. Whoever it is must be well hidden, or not in our courts at all. If the falcons send anyone else, you may want to suggest they look among the wolves, or other local groups.”

I remembered Syfka making a similar comment regarding children when she had described Kel's sentence. “Valene told me that falcons prize children. Even you said to Syfka that the Empress would be upset that our child was endangered in her schemes. Why would a child born here be such a threat?”

“Children on the island are rare,” Kel explained. “Ahnmik's magic is based on stillness, death; it does not give life. For any falcon in the upper ranks to be blessed with a child is a miracle. So children are infinitely precious.” She shook her head. “Pure-blooded children, that is. Mixed blood children are more easily conceived, but far more dangerous. The magic gets warped in them, and it drives them mad. They usually die by their own hands, but only after they destroy everything around them.” Kel shuddered. “I was part of the Empress's Mercy for nine years. Twice I had to bind such children, to try to keep them from harming anyone. It is a horrible thing to have to do to a child whose only crime was his parents' folly.”

Bile rose in my throat. I could almost understand why the falcons hated outsiders and mixed-blood children, if they were forced into actions such as Kel described.

“Might the criminal Syfka was looking for have had a child here?” I asked. “Would she have been sent to locate it?”

Kel shook her head. “The Empress has other hounds to do that cruel work.”

Her voice was sharp, again laden with bitter memory. I found myself wondering aloud, “Kel, was there ever anything beautiful on Ahnmik?”

“There is
nothing,
” she answered instantly, “more beautiful than the white city when the dawn hits it. No dancer I have seen in the serpiente market can compete with the
jaes'oisna
when they perform beneath the triple arches, and no musician in the Keep can ever reproduce the way the magic sings. Those memories echo in my dreams and my every waking moment.”

She lifted a hand, and an image appeared, hovering in the air before her: buildings that glistened like the iridescent inside of an oyster shell, roads sparkling with colors too spectacular to name and what I guessed to be the residents of Ahnmik. Each person wore falcon wings, even the little children who ran and tumbled about the streets. As I watched the illusion, I could faintly hear music that was unlike any voice or instrument I had ever known.

“The triple arches are where the dancers and choruses perform. I used to dance there,” Kel confided when she saw me watching the city. It turned and tilted to show each piece she described. “Inside the three white towers are the private rooms of Cjarsa, Araceli and, finally, the Mercy.
Yenna'saniet.
When the city is silent, you hear screams from that last tower.”

I used to dance,
she had said. Suddenly it was clear to me that this must be the lady who had challenged Andreios to learn.

“There are things about my life before I came here that I wish the void would take from my mind. Things I've seen, heard … done, in the Empress's name …” She shook her
head violently. “There is no place more beautiful, but at the same time, there is no place more horrible. And even if I had the choice, no power in this world could convince me to go back.”

In the silence that followed, a new question gnawed at me. It had nothing to do with falcon traitors or Kel's future, but instead dealt with my past.

“Shortly before he died,” I began, “my brother found a way to visit the falcon city. Were you still there when …”

I trailed off, because Kel's face was suddenly stricken.

She hesitated so long that I thought she would not answer; then she said, “Anjay Cobriana. My partner and I were assigned to be his guides as he waited for an audience with the Empress. He tried to change things, in a land that has not changed in thousands of years. It was brave of him, at least. His death … was a tragedy.”

“Kel?”

We both turned at the sound of Gerard's voice.

“Can I help you?” I asked, giving Kel an extra moment to remove the traces of sorrow from her expression before she faced this man.

“Primarily I've come to deliver a message to the flight leader. Andreios would like to meet with her regarding the position.”

Kel smiled. “Hopefully the fool has remembered that his place is as one of us,” she said affectionately. “With your permission, sir?”

“Certainly,” I allowed.

“Sir, I also have a … personal request,” Gerard said hesitantly once we were alone. At my nod, he continued. “Traditionally, a member of the Royal Flight must have
permission to court a lady, since he cannot swear to guard and protect with his life both his pair bond and his queen.”

I had no answers to notions of protection. I still did not understand what differentiated a proper lady from a lady soldier, unless it was the same as what separated a proper gentleman and a gentleman soldier. It seemed to me that avian women needed little more protecting than the men.

I held my tongue.

“It has been difficult to secure a private audience with my Tuuli Thea, and I did not wish to ask inside a room full of court gossips,” Gerard explained.

“Will permission from the Tuuli Thea's alistair suffice?” In the Keep, Danica and I seemed to have equal power. The only difference was that in a disagreement, Danica's word won out. The arrangement was much the same as that between Diente and Naga in the serpiente palace.

Gerard suddenly glowed with joy. “So long as Andreios—I mean, Kel—and milady Shardae do not object, your word is certainly good enough, my lord.”

“Then court your lady,” I encouraged.

“Thank you, sir.”

The raven turned as if to start obeying my words that instant, but as I watched him go, a shriek of
ky-eee
froze us both, halting Gerard's steps and draining the smile from my face.

Heads in the market were upraised, and an open area quickly grew as five peregrine falcons dove into the center, each taking human form as she hit the ground near where Danica had been standing with her gaggle of court ladies. The crowd parted like water as I hurried down the stairs to greet the unwelcome visitors.

Combined with such a formal escort, peregrine wings could mean only one person: Araceli of Ahnmik, heir to the falcon Empress—and one of the three who Kel had assured us had not left the island in thousands of years.

T
HE HEIR TO THE FALCONS
' E
MPRESS
was an imposing woman, with silver-blond hair pulled back in a tight, waist-length braid, and eyes as clear and pale as the purest blue opal. Strands of hair in similar shades of blue had been pulled out of the top of the braid to frame her pale face. She wore the wings of her Demi form as gracefully as a cloak; their violet-black tops contrasted with her fair skin, while their reddish undersides gave her a nefarious halo.

She wore boots laced to her thighs over black suede slacks, and an ivory low-backed silk shirt with golden embroidery. More disquieting were gauntlets that looked like the golden snakeskin of a Burmese python, and a simple dagger at her hip, no doubt coated with the deadliest of the falcons' poisons.

Her carriage and expression warned that she needed no physical weapon, as did the four guards who accompanied her, all standing at strict attention.

“What urgent business brings the Lady Araceli and her
Mercy to the Hawk's Keep?” I asked, half shocked and half angry.

She met my gaze instantly—a fear of the Cobriana garnet was not for this woman—as she stepped forward and brushed her guards aside. “Cobra, do you claim this palace as yours now?”

I bristled at the words, but forced myself to remain as calm as circumstances allowed. Danica stepped forward, and though she wore a mask of avian calm, I could see the tension in her shoulders and the anger in her eyes.

“I am Tuuli Thea here,” she answered, not quite able to conceal her fury. “Zane Cobriana is my alistair, and I am sure you are aware of that. If you are still seeking your lost falcon, Syfka must have told you—”

“Syfka told me many things,” Araceli interrupted, “and none of them convinced me that she tried very hard. I want my falcon returned. The aplomado has failed in finding him, and while she faces the Empress's tender mercy, I'm forced to go after the brat myself.”

Looking into her pale eyes, I was as lost as any sparrow whose gaze fell on cobra garnet. I found myself recoiling with a hiss when Araceli had done nothing more threatening than look at me. Danica's hand touched my wrist, calming me.

What would the world be like if Kiesha and the other eight serpents from the Dasi had survived as the royal falcons had? Or Queen Alasdair and her first avian kin? What magic might our people have had if we had not wasted thousands of years and countless lives in war?

“It's a pity you aren't still,” Araceli murmured. “You might actually remember some of Anhamirak's magic if you stop slaughtering each other for long enough. Still, I see no
reason to hurry you back into war; you'll manage it on your own in time. Now, my falcon?”

“We don't know who you're looking for,” I answered, glad that I could be honest on that point. Unless I had spoken aloud without realizing it, the falcon heir had read my thoughts a moment ago. Lying to her seemed like a bad idea.

She sighed and then glanced at her guard. “You sense him here, too?”

He nodded. “Well shielded, but yes. Higher.”

Araceli nodded. “Excellent.” She took a breath as if to sigh, but instead let out a piercing call any avian, serpent or landlocked creature could recognize—a hunting falcon's war cry. Only shock held me still as everyone else in the room jumped, some gasping. Danica went rigid beside me, but before we could consider protesting, Araceli issued an ultimatum.

“If my falcon is not standing before me within the next two minutes,” she declared, “I will take this Keep down stone by stone and timber by timber, slaughtering those inside until I find the right one. I suggest you spread the word.”

“Araceli—” said Danica.

“You had better hope he's loyal to you,” Araceli said calmly to her, eyes glittering with ice. “Otherwise he might just leave.”

“Araceli,” I said, “you can't intend—”

“I never make a threat I don't intend to keep, cobra. Though, honestly, I don't think it will be necessary. He will come.”

I caught Danica's eye, imploring her silently to get out of harm's way. We could not both leave—not with Araceli standing before us—but one could go, if only under the pre
tense of searching for the lost falcon. Ever so slightly, Danica shook her head.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw other, less faithful avians shifting into their second forms and either disappearing into the surrounding land or flying to higher levels to spread the word of Araceli's threat.

Kel was the first one to return, her sparrow's form coming to a hasty halt as she shapeshifted at Araceli's feet. “My graceful Lady aona'la'Araceli—”

“You are not the falcon I seek,” the heir interrupted her. “You have received your sentence, and Cjarsa has supported it despite my protests. Now take your leave of me. Even this face is tainted by your stolen form.”

Kel recoiled, then collected herself and stood at attention beside me. “My graceful Lady Araceli, heir to she who shines in beauty and power, loyalty forces me to inform you that I have sworn myself to Danica Shardae and her mate, and that if you attempt this fight, I will defend this Keep and those within it with my life.”

Araceli barely raised an eyebrow. “And you will die, little girl.”

“And will I, heir to the kingdom of moon and mountain?”

The new voice behind me made the hair on the back of my neck tingle as I recognized it, but I did not turn away from Araceli. Kel tensed, and I saw Danica's face turn white. Instinctively I stepped toward my mate as I felt her sway.

Again the man spoke. “I'm here. You knew I would be. I too swore loyalty to the Tuuli Thea; you know I did so years ago. I'm sworn to Alasdair's heir, I'm sworn to the descendent of Kiesha and I'm sworn to their people. I never
swore to you. So will you take me home to our Empress's mercy? To her torture?”

Kel hitched a breath in as if with horrified shock, spinning to face the speaker. “Rei, careful—”

Araceli was hardly bothering to hide her rage. “Speak not of your Empress that way, nestling.”

“I'm no nestling,” Andreios sighed. “I may be young compared to some, but I am no child.”

“Impertinent—” Araceli stepped forward, her hand rising as if she would strike the crow, but then she stopped, her voice halting. She swallowed tightly before she said, “You're coming back to Ahnmik. Now.”

Rei stepped toward her, his face grave. “Milady, you know I will not endanger my people, and I know you will not hesitate to use that to coerce me. So I can only ask you—beg you, if that is what you wish—to allow me to stay. You sent me here when I was still a child. You made no attempt to bring me home when I refused to answer your summons. I hardly remember my falcon form, hardly remember my magics—”

“You're royal blood, Sebastian. You'll remember, when the need arises, and we cannot allow rogue falcons of your strength to wander outside our control.”

“When the need arises?” he echoed. “Milady, if I had any shred of power, do you think I would have let my queen fall to Syfka's tests? Do you think I would have let her bleed while I—”

“Enough.” Araceli's voice was cold.

“Please, milady, heir to the land of air and cloud, heir to the kingdom of sun and summit, let me remain,” Rei said. “Do what you think necessary, but let me remain. Ahnmik was never my home.”

“Sebastian—”

“Milady … my mother. I beg you.”

My mother.
The son of the Empress's heir—indeed he must be strong. I could only imagine what he feared, what he was running from, that made him stay here, where he had to hide that strength. There was fear in his voice now, fear not just of losing this life but of whatever would come next.

What
would
come next? Death? Torture? Or simply life in a civilization no person with reason could possibly abide?

“It is unbecoming of you to whine this way, Sebastian,” Araceli said. She spoke without warmth to her son. Did her voice hold regret, loneliness, guilt? I couldn't hear any.

“Araceli—” Rei said.

“Enough!” the heir snapped. “My patience is through. Guards, bring him. If he fights you, bind him. Tuuli Thea, Diente, I hope we need not meet again.”

Horror lashed me, along with a sick sense of helplessness, as I watched the guards grasp Rei's arms. No words would possibly convince the heir to the falcon throne to give up her only son.

Rei must have felt the same way as I did. He did not fight, but walked with them until they reached the center opening in the floor, where he fell gasping to his knees.

“What are you doing to him?” The pain on Rei's face ripped the words from me. Kel grabbed my arm to keep me from stepping forward.

Rei's form rippled, contorting without any of the smoothness usually associated with a shapeshifter's change. The falcon that finally emerged, wearing the same peregrine markings as Araceli's Demi wings, shuddered as if in pain.

“Force change,” Kel said softly. “It hurts, as you have experienced.”

“No!”

Danica's shriek—a sound of pain and loss, and absolute hatred—turned my blood to ice. Kel and I were both too late to pull her back as she ran not to Rei, but to Araceli.

“You pompous
hoverhawk,
” Danica spat. “You sent him here, you
left
him here, and now after he has proved himself one of us, you
dare
to demand—”

She did not get further. Before Kel or I could reach the pair, I saw the indigo-black tar of falcon magic strike across Danica's face and arms, knocking her onto her back. A wall of Araceli's magic held me in place, so I could only stand by in horror as she drew a dirk from her back and placed the tip against Danica's throat.

“I could simplify so many things by pushing this blade through you,” Araceli whispered. “No one would miss you or the mongrel creature you carry.” She paused and with the blade of her weapon lifted the cord on which Danica's
Ahnleh
hung. It shone in the light like a mocking symbol of the hope we had held. “Since when does the Tuuli Thea wear a Snakecharm?”

She looked at me, and I forced myself to meet her cold gaze without flinching.

“Danica is also Naga, and a dancer,” I said, because Araceli seemed to be waiting for an answer. “The leader of the local nest presented her with the
Ahnleh.
”

“I see.”

Araceli glanced at Rei, who was being restrained by her quartet of guards, and then at Kel, who was on her knees, shivering as if held by stronger magic than I was.

Finally Araceli looked back at me and sheathed her
blade. “I am a patient woman, cobra.” I did not dare to argue with that statement; I barely dared to breathe. “I can wait, and allow you to regret not having me destroy her for you.
Saniet'la!
” she called to her guards and Andreios. “We leave here now.”