by Jean Johnson
"It could've been anyone," Kenyen agreed, grimacing as they carefully shifted the corpse. Once the unpleasant task was complete, they peered at the letters again. It didn't take long for Kenyen to figure out what the words were, smeared spots and all. "I... am... the real... Tunric Tel Vem?... Tel Wem?"
Narquen shrugged. "Looks more like a W, maybe? It's hard to tell with some of the scratches laid over each other. What's this word here?"
Kenyen shook his head. "Too smudged to tell. This bit could be either of Nespah or of Mespak or something between the two. If I remember the maps right, those sound like two of the valley-holds, places with more tea plantations than actual villages or towns to the south. Neither location looked like they were all that close to the Plains."
The other shifter shook his head. "I only know a little bit about the kingdom of Correda, and I only glanced at the maps. We'd have to check the ones we brought."
"Speak up!" they heard Ashallan order. "What have you two found?"
Kenyen answered her, raising his voice again. "It looks like this body was a man named Tunric, which I've heard is a common name for men in Correda. Tunric Tel Vem or Tunric Tel Wem. He was from either Nespah or Mespak, we're not sure which."
Narquen rubbed his chin, murmuring, "... That's rather an odd thing to say, isn't it? That he's the real Tunric?"
"If he was worried about people finding his body, he'd just say he was Tunric," Kenyen agreed equally as quiet, frowning. "But to emphasize he's the real one means he feared his identity was in doubt. Which means he feared someone was going to try to pretend to be him. But, the magics for casting an illusion spell are very complex and taxing. With magics in this whole region deeply weakened by the Shattering of Aiar, a mage that strong would have had to come from very far away."
Narquen put his hand on Kenyen's arm. "Not a spellcaster, Kenyen. It could have been a shapeshifter. If these Family Mongrel types were cruel enough to brutalize women, then what's to stop them from perverting their abilities from the purity of animal forms to the atrocity of echoing human faces? We may have done it as children when learning how to make small shifts, but we don't go around pretending to be each other once we move on to animal shifts. These curs have no such honor."
"Atava isn't the sort to lie, and apples rarely fall far from the tree," Kenyen replied, thinking it through. "The scribe who raised her would therefore have been equally honest, particularly one entrusted with writing legal contracts for his fellow Mornai. The only doubt lies in the words of Atava's mother. Did she tell the truth, or did she exaggerate and even lie? With her long dead, we can't ask her directly..."
He fell silent for a few moments, thinking, then voiced his thoughts aloud.
"There are plenty of different animal tracks layered with human ones in the dirt of the main cavern, enough to say that shifters lived here for a while," Kenyen reasoned out. "So many different wild animals would not mingle openly with humans. So shifters stayed here, and a man who feared his true identity was being stolen died here. Which implicates dishonorable shapeshifters."
"Then she was most likely telling the truth," the other shifter agreed.
Narquen's agreement confirmed Kenyen's own thoughts. The Shifterai were nomadic most of the year, but they were not an ignorant, uneducated people. Logic was prized among their kind.
The other shifter nodded at the desiccated corpse. "The men who left this body here were not above extreme cruelties, to imprison and leave a man to die behind this wall. The words in that book have a solid kernel of truth within them, between those tracks and this man's demise—when I dragged the lightglobe in here in one of my smallest forms, it looked like others had dragged supplies in via the same route. The bucket probably held water, which they'd bring in via skins."
"A little water, a little food... enough to sustain him for days, maybe even a turning of Brother Moon. Long enough for them to interrogate him, until they had wrung all the information they needed to try to take his place in the greater world. Long enough for him to realize they were probably going to kill him once they were through." Kenyen sighed roughly, rubbing his forehead. "So then the important question is, is someone still impersonating this man? And why? And how long ago did this man die, and was he really from the holdings of Nespah or Mespak, and if so, did his impersonator go back?"
Narquen chuckled under his breath. "That's more than one question, you know. But good ones all the same." Raising his voice, he called out to the others. "I have verified what Kenyen has seen back here. It indeed appears that someone was kept back here as a prisoner... and was either slain back here or simply left to die."
"How unpleasant. If you two are done back there, we have the Truth Stone, now," Ashallan called through the rocks separating them from the main cavern. "I want you to help us question Bellar, here."
Both men shifted shape and made their way back through the small tunnel, bringing the lightglobe with them. Once in the main cavern, they both returned to human form, loins covered in modesty-preserving fur long enough to don the clothes they had folded and set aside. As he dressed, Kenyen noted that Bellar Sil Quen didn't look happy to see the white marble disk in Ashallan's hand, standing with his arms folded across his chamak-covered chest. Bellar reluctantly pulled one hand free, accepting the stone the middle-aged woman held out to him.
"You know how this goes," Ashallan reminded him. "State a lie, then state the truth."
"My name is Marro," Bellar obligingly muttered, clutching the palm-sized disk. A shift of his fingers revealed blackened imprints where his fingers had touched the surface. They faded after a few moments, leaving nothing but white, unblemished marble. Gripping it again, he cleared his throat. "Look... he may have been banished from the Plains, but there is nothing in the law which says I cannot talk with my brother. And yes, I've met with him over the years. Always off the Plains."
A shift of his fingers revealed the unblemished truth of that statement. Ashallan nodded, her expression neutral. The other two female shifters watched him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness, the same as most of the males. Kenyen finished clasping his pectoral collar around his shoulders, and wondered if he should shift his nose to something sensitive enough to pick up whether or not Bellar was nervous about these revelations, perhaps hiding something by omission, if not through a lie.
"Nollan... we disagree on several things, but he's still my brother. And for the last ten years, he's made a life for himself in Correda as a tea farmer," Bellar told them. "When I heard about this expedition being planned this last winter, I flew into the mountains to meet with him, to see if Nollan had anything useful to tell me. He..."
"Go on," Ashallan urged quietly when Bellar hesitated.
Bellar looked uncomfortable, nose wrinkling and brow furrowing, but continued. "He gave me a funny look. Kind of like I was a bug and he was debating whether or not he'd squish me for it. He'd never looked at me like that before. Then he sighed and... and he just told me to keep people away from this cave, particularly the back of it. But I don't know why, and he didn't tell me why, and I didn't know about the body back there. I swear it on this stone."
Opening his fingers, he showed the all-white disk to the others.
"Where do you meet with your brother, when you go into the mountains?" one of the other princesses, Anaika, asked him.
"I used to meet with him near here, but not for the last half-dozen years. These days, I leave word at a tavern in the town of Teshal, and he gets back to me within a day or two. I've never asked where Nollan lives—he has a right to make a new life for himself, even though he's been banished," Bellar added defensively.
Kenyen frowned in thought. "If I remember the map right, Teshal's nowhere near either the Nespah or Mespak valleys. It's off to the east."
Manolo, from the same Family Tiger as Kenyen, dug into the saddlebag he had brought into the cave. Within moments, he fished out a folded map. He flopped the worn parchment over his hands so that it could be seen by the others an
d nodded. "... Teshal isn't near either; you're right."
Ashallan looked at Kenyen and Narquen. "Do you have any questions?"
Kenyen nodded and lifted his chin at Bellar. "Did your brother Nollan ever mention Nespah or Mespak?"
"Not that I can recall." He displayed the stone again, proving his words true.
"What about the name Tunric?" Narquen asked.
Bellar shrugged. "Not that I can recall."
"Well, if you do recall, let us know," Ashallan ordered him tartly, the same tone of voice a mother would use on a son who had disappointed her. Considering Bellar was close to her age, her tone made him flush.
"What about this Family Mongrel, did he ever mention that name?" Manolo asked him next.
Bellar frowned in thought. "I think he mentioned it... but I can't remember much. Mostly in the last few years, we've talked about him being a tea farmer, and he'd sell me some of his tea, and I'd give him the occasional bit of news about the Family and the Clan. He's not a bad man."
"Your brother was listed as banished for forcing himself on a maiden," Ashallan countered bluntly. "That's hardly the actions of a good man."
"Well, he never committed murder, as far as I know," Bellar defended. "He might know something about that body back there, but if he ran with this Family Mongrel, it was probably one of the others."
"Well, we'll just have to go question him, won't we?" the other princess, Asellah Lu Nish of Family Mustang, Clan Horse, stated. She was the oldest of the female shifters selected for this expedition, but with only two shapes to her name, her greatest contribution to the group lay in herb-healing and her years of trade experience with the Corredai. "And anyone he knows."
"We'll go to Teshal, question your brother, and see what he has to say," Ashallan decided.
"Just in case he doesn't know anything," Narquen offered, "perhaps we should send a couple of us to the Nespah and Mespak valleys to scout around for this Tunric Tel Vem or Tel Wem."
"We've already spent half the summer looking, Highness," Kenyen agreed. "Winter in these mountains is supposed to be as unpleasant as winter on the Plains. I can head to Nespah, if you like, and cut down on our overall travel time?"
"And I'll head to Mespak," Narquen offered.
"One of us should also report back to Her Majesty that we've finally made some progress," Ashallan murmured. Anaika raised her hand, and Ashallan nodded. "You have a fast enough bird form, cousin; you go to the capital and let the Queen know what we're doing. As for you, Bellar... the fact that you held secret your knowledge of this Family Mongrel is a black mark against you. Cooperate, and you may erase it. Withhold much more information, and you may end up needing to ask your brother for room in his home."
Bellar gave her a glum look. "I didn't want my brother persecuted any further."
"And if he is free of further crimes, he will not be," Ashallan said, shrugging. "Those that are guilty, however, will need to be attended to properly... even if they commit their crimes in another kingdom," the princess added grimly. "It's our fault we didn't take stronger measures to stop their wicked ways from continuing.
"Of course, it means sending a delegation to His Majesty if there is something in need of prosecution, since we're officially within Correda's borders. But first we need proof there is still wrongdoing happening, and whether or not our kind, exiled or otherwise, had anything to do with it." Sighing roughly, she raked her gray-streaked locks back from her face. "We'll handle that once we have a need for it. A dead body, however incriminating, isn't enough, since we still don't know who hid it back there. We are here merely to make sure this so-called Family Mongrel is no longer committing crimes against women—against anyone—and thus bringing dishonor to the real ways and the good name of the Shifterai."
"I'd be careful, though. If one of the banished shifters perverted his powers enough to take on the identity of this dead man," the other princess of Family Lion stated, "then just asking about his name might make the name-thief wary, or maybe even chase him into hiding."
Ashallan turned her attention back to Kenyen and sighed roughly. "I do wish your brother were here. We could really use a strong multerai to help us with this. Whoever these murderers are, they're frightfully strong, if they feel they can imitate others and get away with it, but I guess we'll have to make do with what we have."
Kenyen hated the way she put that. As if I'm nothing more than a straw-snake, only good for frightening little children, and only for a brief moment at that. I may not have ten or twelve or more shifts, but I am good at the things I can do. He kept his reaction hidden, however. The only way he could prove himself was to show his competency in other areas. I'm not helpless, and I'm not useless. Instead, he spoke lightly, chasing the topic at hand.
"A good point, Anaika," Kenyen agreed, nodding at the young woman. "I think Narquen and I could learn whatever we need just by perching in trees and listening to the locals speak. It would take longer than a direct inquiry, but it would be safer—Bellar, I have another question."
"What else do you want to know?" Bellar asked warily.
"According to the book of Ellet Sou Tred's suffering, on two occasions a new shifter joined Family Mongrel. Both of them were marked with the Banishment scar, just like the others," Kenyen said, tapping his own unblemished forehead briefly before lowering his hand. "Did your brother ever ask you to tell anyone else about his location? In specific, other banished men?"
Bellar gave him a sour look. "Would you like me to bring back Elder Brother Moon from oblivion, too? Or perhaps give you the secret to eternal life?"
"Answer the question, Bellar," Ashallan ordered him.
"Well, of course he did. He knows that if you have the Banished mark on your forehead, it's hard to find work, outkingdom," Bellar admitted gruffly. "He figured he could help them, maybe give them a second chance."
Manolo eyed Bellar, asking shrewdly, "Did he give you a special phrase or word to give to them, or tell you to have them say something specific when going to him to look for work?"
"Why would he give them a special saying?" Anaika asked, giving the older shifter a puzzled look.
"It's fairly obvious to me, and I think to Kenyen," Manolo told her, "that whatever else this Family Mongrel has been up to, they've been trying hard to avoid drawing attention to their activities. The Corredai aren't like us in culture—few outkingdoms are—but they do have laws against the beating and raping of women just as we do. Laws against brutality of all kinds, and laws against theft. Laws against murder.
"Given how much the writings said that the men of Family Mongrel enjoyed their violent, brutal ways, and how many pains they took to avoid being found or tracked by anyone, it's clear they knew their actions were illegal, and clear that they enjoyed doing them anyway," Manolo stated, returning his gaze to Bellar. "Yet it's also clear they took in new members at one point. Your brother might've joined Family Mongrel, or may have simply known about their activities. If your brother wanted to keep people away from the back of this cave, then he likely knew about the dead body bound behind these rocks, and that's the sort of thing they might've done."
"He's not a murderer," Bellar muttered stubbornly.
"Bellar, if he knew about that body being back there, why didn't he report it to the authorities in Correda so they could come and bury it in accordance with their traditions and contact the missing man's family?" Kenyen asked pointedly. "There are too many questions here, with many of them pointing at potentially ugly answers. So we are asking you, did your brother tell you to say anything to banished Shifterai, or give them anything, or direct them to approach him in a specific way whenever you might have the chance to point another banished man in his direction?"
"Use the Truth Stone," Ashallan added as Bellar hesitated. "If your brother is simply helping the banished to find legitimate work, then he has nothing to fear from us. All kingdoms honor the Truth, be it by stone or by wand or by spell. But all kingdoms revile murder, and we have a body behind th
at rock fall that was apparently bound and imprisoned and left there to rot... and your brother knew something about it. Something unpleasant enough he didn't want others to find this cave, nor explore it beyond those stones."
Sighing roughly, the middle-aged shifter gripped the marble disk. "Nollan told me that... that if I knew of anyone—any male, that is—who was being banished from the Plains, I was to point them into the mountains toward him, and instruct them to tell him they were looking for work."
"Anything else?" Manolo asked when Bellar displayed the unblemished stone.
Bellar shrugged. "Just that they were to be honest with him as to why they'd been banished... and that he particularly wanted me to encourage them to go looking for him if they were strong shifters, and that if I thought they'd get along with him, they should bring him a gift. But he didn't tell me what kind of gift. That's all he said on the matter."
Again, he displayed the stone, showing it was white.
Manolo eyed Bellar. "Well, whatever your brother has been up to, at least he's done his best to keep you ignorant of it. I'm not sure if that's more than a single point in his favor, since he might be concealing more crimes than those which earned his banishment, but he kept you innocent of it."
"He made a mistake, and he was banished for it. He doesn't deserve further persecution just for that," Bellar argued back.
"If he's innocent of further wrongdoing, then he won't be. We just want to ask him some questions. But first, we'll tear down the rocks and bury the body with respect," Ashallan instructed the others. "Then we'll split up in the morning."
"We'll meet in the town of Teshal at the inn after, what, two weeks? That should be enough time to look around and ask questions, right?" Narquen asked, glancing at Kenyen.
"I suggest three weeks," Manolo told the others, lifting the map in his hand. "A lot of these roads are switchbacks. Distances are longer on the ground than they might look on the map. Flying straight there would be a lot faster than riding for those of us with the forms for it, but I think the locals would prefer to deal with people wearing clothing, not just feathers or fur. Perching in a tree might be alright for eavesdropping, but you may still have to ask people questions... and if there are lawbreakers at work, hiding themselves among the Corredai, best if you look like a non-shifter while doing so. Though I'm not quite sure how someone permanently branded with bluesteel could hide their Banishment scars."
