by Dixie Lyle
[Not to mention long. Bit unwieldy to use in conversation.]
I facepalmed, then spoke from behind my hand. “Guys. Let’s just pretend this conversation never happened and move on with our lives, all—”
[Perhaps an acronym would be more suitable.]
[Still too long. Perhaps just Owduttf?]
[That would be the full translation?]
“And we’re done,” I said. “Tango. We need to get Augustus back to the Crossroads, okay? Eli’s getting worried.”
“Bye, Owdut,” I called over my shoulder. “It’s been … memorable.”
I shuddered. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”
We followed Augustus out of the zoo and across the broad front lawn of the estate, where I spotted ZZ waving at me from the front door. I told Whiskey and Tango to escort the liger back to the Crossroads and for Tango to stay with him while Whiskey reported back to me. Then I joined ZZ, who wanted to discuss our options. I reluctantly went with her, though what I really would have liked to do was talk to Eli about the Big Cat Problem.
Oh, well. Two jobs, two bosses, one Foxtrot. At least I have assistants.
I spotted Ben as ZZ and I went inside, but I didn’t have time to do much more than nod at him as we walked through the foyer and upstairs. He looked like he wanted to talk to me, too, but we didn’t have the chance. ZZ took me upstairs to her office; Shondra joined us, too.
When we were all seated around her desk, ZZ said, “I can’t tell you just how badly it bothers me that someone tried to steal Augustus’s body.”
“It won’t happen again,” said Shondra. “I’m tightening security for the clinic as we speak. Additional cameras, better locks—”
“No,” said ZZ.
“No?” I said.
“No. Simply preventing them from trying again is not what I want. I want to catch them, preferably in the act.”
I nodded, while Shondra frowned. “Wait,” she said. “You want to give them the chance to try again? Set a trap?”
“Exactly,” said ZZ.
Shondra was skeptical. “What makes you think they’ll try again?”
“Because someone is clearly desperate to get their hands on Augustus’s corpse. And desperate people do stupid things.”
“Desperate people are also dangerous and unpredictable,” Shondra pointed out. “Someone could get hurt.”
“Well, that’s why we’re having this meeting, dear. To map out all the details so that no one does.”
Shondra didn’t look happy, but she nodded all the same. She knew that ZZ never backed down on a point of principle. We were there to provide advice and resources, but ZZ made the decisions.
“I’m going to tell our guests that I’ve had second thoughts about my decision and would like them to stay another night. We’ll post surveillance—either cameras or guards or both—but conceal them. Then we’ll wait for our thief to make his move.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. I already knew who the thief was: Abazu Chukwukadibia. But there was no way to explain how I knew that, so I was just going to have to keep my mouth shut.
And my eyes open.
* * *
Afterward I went straight to the kitchen, where I ran into Ben.
“Okay, here’s the scoop,” he said, wiping his hands with a dish towel. “Eli wants us to talk to Waghai Devi, pronto. Any delay will be seen as an insult, and these folks insult easy.”
“What did Eli think of our performance so far?”
Ben took off his apron and hung it on a hook. “He thinks not getting eaten was a good first step. I wouldn’t exactly characterize him as happy, though.”
“Negotiations are tricky. You need both sides to believe you’re working in their own best interests, while trying to convince them that compromising is not failure. It’s like trying to push water uphill.”
“Seems like you did pretty good at persuading old Apedemek you could do just that.” He grinned at me as we headed out the back door.
“That was just establishing my bona fides, which I still have to do with Waghai Devi. Then we get down to actual back-and-forth contract stuff.”
We ran into Whiskey at the graveyard gate. [Augustus is resting, over by the statue of the circus bear. Eli is waiting for you at Davy’s Grave.]
We hurried over to the site, a simple plot surrounded by trees and benches. Eli was perched on the back of one of the benches; I rarely saw him in a tree.
“Foxtrot. Are you and Ben ready?”
“Sure. Let’s go. Never keep a tiger goddess waiting.”
Ben raised his hands, and the wind began to swirl. Lightning danced and the Great Crossroads faded from view, replaced by a surrounding wall of lush, dense vegetation. We were in a clearing in a tropical jungle at night, illuminated by silvery moonlight. I could hear the calls of the jungle’s denizens all around me, everything from soft chirrups to harsh cries, but I had no idea which animal was making what noise; that scream might be a monkey or it might be a bird, that chirp could be a bug or a frog or some kind of rodent. The warm, moist air closed around us like a damp fist, heavy with the scent of the tropics.
“Okay,” I said. “This place might be a little harder to navigate in than the faux Serengeti.”
“Do not worry,” a soft voice said from the shadows in front of us. “You are in no danger here. Not of getting lost, anyway.”
A tall, slender figure stepped forward. A woman, with orange-and-black-striped hair and pale skin, wearing a dress of red so dark it was almost black. She smiled at us with lips the same color. “Welcome to my home.” Her eyes were a deep green.
“Uh, hello,” Ben said. “Thank you.” He sounded a little dazed.
Terrific. Looked like I was going to have to deal with trouble of an entirely different kind this time …
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Follow me, please,” said Waghai Devi. She turned and strode—no, slunk—into the darkness of the jungle, where a path seemed to open up beneath her bare feet. We followed.
Waghai Devi’s realm was very different from Apedemek’s. His had been sunny, hers was dark; his was open, hers was enclosed. Brilliant shafts of moonlight occasionally striped the path with silver, but mostly we traveled through rustling shadow. I wondered where we were going, but I knew better than to ask. We’d find out when we got there.
I knew what she was doing, too. Establishing the tone. Trying to make us feel small and alone and vulnerable. In this world we might as well have been mice as human beings.
I tried not to let it get to me. These kinds of head games were supposed to be the first shot in a psychological battle, but you could learn more about an opponent than they expected if you paid attention to what they weren’t showing you.
For instance, I wasn’t seeing any other tigers.
Apedemek had been careful to display the size of his pride. Devi was being just as careful not to reveal her numbers. That might simply be a function of how this place worked—tigers were solitary, secretive creatures, after all—but it might not be. If you were just flexing your muscles, you’d want a show of power; if you were planning an actual attack, you’d want to keep your true abilities hidden until the last moment.
Wh
en lions hunted, the females cooperated to run down prey. Tigers were ambush predators—they liked to hide and then pounce. Almost all deaths from tiger attacks were produced by a single massive bite to the back of the neck, from jaws that could generate up to a thousand pounds of pressure. Sudden, lethal, and effective. If Waghai Devi wanted to take us out, we’d never see it coming.
Which was about when I started seeing green and yellow eyes glinting in the darkness around us. Good going, Foxtrot. Yeah, these head games weren’t affecting me at all.
But it wasn’t like I didn’t have an arsenal of my own to fight back. Waghai Devi might be an ancient Indian tiger goddess, but I’d been marinating in the pop-culture slurry of twenty-first-century America for most of my life.
Tigers? You want tigers? Okay, you got ’em.
Tony the Tiger. Grrrrrrreat! Tigger. “Bouncing around like an ADD toddler on a sugar binge is what tiggers do best!” And of course Hobbes, of Calvin and Hobbes, whom I always heard talking with a cultured British accent: “Tigers love tuna fish sandwiches.” I imagined it was them in the jungle around us, Tigger sproinging behind us on his tail, Hobbes sauntering alongside on his hind legs looking thoughtful, Tony riding a motocross bike or skateboard or whatever piece of sports equipment current studies deemed popular with his target demographic.
Imagination is not your friend at three AM in a creaky house. Fortunately, a robust sense of humor can usually beat some sense into it.
Unfortunately, the tenser the situation the more extreme the counter-response. And putting those three together in one imaginary scenario might have been a little over the top …
Waghai Devi stopped, though she didn’t turn around. We stopped, too. “Did I just hear you giggle?”
“Sorry.”
“A lesser deity might infer you weren’t taking the situation seriously.”
“Nervous reaction. Won’t happen again.” Except then I imagined trying to explain to her that it was all Tony’s fault, because he crashed that damn three-wheeled skateboard thingie into a tree, and then Tigger started jumping up and down on it while yelling “Corporate merchandising of beloved children’s characters is what tiggers do best!” while Hobbes just stood there shaking his head and pointing out that this never would have happened if Tony had been endorsing Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs.
I managed not to snicker, but it was an effort.
At length we came to the base of a gigantic tree. There were steps growing out of the massive trunk, spiraling up into the foliage. Waghai Devi ascended gracefully, and we followed behind.
The jungle floor disappeared as we traveled higher, until all we could see around us were the rough brown of the trunk and whispering green leaves. The moon was occasionally visible through breaks in the canopy above, a brilliant white globe that seemed slightly oval. Almost like the eye of a cat …
The steps ended at the fork of three enormous branches, two of which angled upward to either side. The biggest branch lay between the other two, flattening and leveling off into a passable floor. Other branches sprouting from it formed approximations of furniture: a table, several benches, shelves. Waghai Devi curled up on a branch that resembled a divan, sprawling as carelessly as any domesticated tabby, and motioned for us to do the same. I took a seat across from her, and Ben took one beside me.
“Would you care for some tea?” Devi asked. “I have chai I’m told is quite heavenly.”
“No, thank you,” I said. I was dying to try some, but considering how wired she’d gotten Augustus, I didn’t think it was a good idea. “You have a lovely home.”
She smiled at me lazily, her eyes half closed. “A home should be comfortable, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I’m sure Augustus would be very happy here.”
“I’m glad you agree.”
I glanced around. “I have to say, though—I’m a little surprised at your presentation. It seems rather—”
“Human?” She laughed, a throaty chuckle. “Tigers are more adaptable than lions; it’s why we can swim and they can’t. I thought taking this form and creating this environment for our discussion would put you more at ease.”
Interesting. Clearly, Devi thought the way to make her case was to win us over to her side, in the hope that I would then convince Augustus that she was the better choice.
“So,” I said. “You can tailor your surroundings to suit your needs. What about Augustus’s needs?”
“Oh, I can provide anything he wants—including things his human owner introduced him to. I’m intimately familiar with human beings and their desires.” Her emerald-green gaze slid toward Ben, lingered, then moved back to me. “India was an advanced and thriving culture when Africa was still no more than a collection of warring tribes. Tigers have lived alongside that culture and learned from it for centuries.”
“Learned what?” Ben said. His voice was a little more confrontational than I expected. “Tigers and humans don’t exactly coexist peacefully.”
She studied him for a moment before replying. If she’d had a tail, it would have been twitching. “No, we don’t. But neither do cats and those with feathers, Thunderbird.”
“How well tigers get along with other species isn’t the point,” I said, trying to stave off an argument.
“Isn’t it?” Ben asked. “A liger’s only part tiger. How are the full-blooded specimens here going to treat a half-breed?”
“They’ll treat him exactly how I tell them to. Or do you doubt my power?” Devi’s voice was soft, but there were claws beneath the fur.
“No, no, not at all,” I said hurriedly. “But…”
“But?” Now her voice was practically a purr.
“All cats are renowned for their strength of will and independent nature, but tigers? Tigers are the epitome of both. Lions, by comparison, are practically subservient. Should their own nature lead a few stubborn tigers to disobey your wishes, it could make this place less than a paradise for Augustus.”
I held my breath as I waited for her reply. She was either going to blow up for suggesting she wasn’t totally and completely in control … or do her best to allay my fears.
She shook her head. “You disappoint me, Foxtrot. Paradise for my kind is not one devoid of conflict. We are hunters, killers, the very definition of the word fierce. Did you think our afterlife would be any different? It is not—it is merely without those difficulties associated with such an existence. There is no disease, no starvation, no aging. There is battle here, and blood, and even pain—but no wound that will not heal, no pain that will not fade. Other Heavens may be sweet, but here we savor the taste of salt. It is our way—and should Augustus make this his home, it will be his.”
“You so sure of that?” Ben asked. “He’s never killed anything larger than a rat in his life. And I’m not sure about the rat.”
Devi shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. He will be royalty here, and as such he will be introduced to our ways by the best of teachers.”
“You?” I asked.
She inclined her head ever so slightly in confirmation. “He will learn quickly; he is a spirit now, and a spirit is the purest form of a being’s essence. It will be less a matter of imparting information than simply letting his natural urges run free.”
Her voice, her body language, the look on her face—all these things told me exactly which urges she’d be letting run free, and with whom. Well, Tango had fallen for the big lug, too. “So he’ll be royalty, with royal privileges. Does that mean he has royal responsibilities, as well?”
She laughed. “Not unless he wants them. I have ruled this realm since tigers had teeth like sabers; I don’t need any help in continuing to do so. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t welcome the opportunity to share the burden.”
Sure you wouldn’t. You used three negatives in a single sentence—doesn’t, wouldn’t, and burden—to make it sound as unappealing as possible, when you could have just said I’d like that. Only you wouldn’t, would you? Ap
edemek was too arrogant to even consider Augustus a threat, but you’re smarter than that. You want to get as much use out of Augustus as possible, but you don’t want him becoming a rival.
Still, she actually made an appealing case. Being the consort of a goddess would be pretty awesome; basically, all the perks that Apedemek was offering plus … well, an actual deity for a partner. I’m guessing the sex alone might be a deal-clincher.
But.
But Apedemek, for all his bluster, wasn’t a man-eater at heart. Waghai Devi definitely was, and she planned to nurture those same tendencies in Augustus. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? It’s not like he was going to go out and start devouring people; he was a ghost.
“You bring up some very good points,” I told her. “Thank you for your hospitality. We’ll discuss this with Augustus, find out how he feels about things, and then talk with both of you again. I hope you find that acceptable.”
She nodded graciously. “I do. Please convey my best wishes to Augustus; I hope to see him soon.”
Ben and I got to our feet. I nodded at Devi again, and then we headed for the staircase.
Ben let us get a few turns around the tree before he murmured, “Are we going to have to find our way back to that clearing by ourselves? Because I’m not sure I can do that in the dark.”
“Don’t worry. She wants things to go well; we won’t have any problems.”
And we didn’t. When we got to the base of the tree, the path opened up before us, a beam of moonlight illuminating the way. I moved confidently along it, Ben a step behind me.
Glinting green eyes kept pace with us in the shadows on either side. An honor guard, I guess—or a not-so-subtle reminder of where we were and who was in charge. As if we needed it.
When we got to the clearing, Ben hesitated. “I’d like to try a little experiment, if that’s okay by you?”
“What kind of experiment?”
“I’d like to see if I can make us come out somewhere different from where we started out. Move across space as well as dimensions.”
I frowned. “What did you have in mind? I don’t want to wind up in the middle of the Atlantic. Or a wall. Or on a busy freeway. Or in front of a speeding train. Or on top of Mount Everest. Or—you know what? Just the fact that I can keep coming up with horrifying examples with absolutely no effort makes me wonder if this is such a good idea. At all.”
