Shapeshifters

by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

  “The one I was sent for—no, I haven’t. This one is … a nobody, half gyrfalcon and half peregrine, void of any magic and hence of any value to you—”

  “Or any value to you,” I interrupted. If she was insistent on taking people out of my market, I wanted at least to know why. “What is his crime?”

  “That is none of your business,” Syfka snapped. “And you have larger problems than one kajaes falcon.”

  “As do you,” I pointed out.

  She tossed her head. “At least I seek a flesh-and-blood, pure-blooded peregrine who I know exists. You—and your delusional hawk you call Naga—seek a fanciful dream of harmony as impossible as a western sunrise … and as volatile as Anhamirak’s temper.”

  “I’ve seen my dreams come true,” I replied, unchallenged by her words. “I’ve seen an end to useless hatred and killing—”

  “An end to hatred, oh?” she challenged. “Can you tell me the future, Kiesha’ra?”

  “No man can.”

  “Actually, any fool who can spin a proper sakkri could show you your fate. But even you, with your stunted magic, must be able to predict what is about to happen on the other side of your own market.”

  I turned just in time to see the young, optimistic serpent from the day before catch the arm of the jeweler’s avain daughter. Her alistair looked up just in time to see his pair bond pulled aside by his serpent competition.

  The young lady’s face went dead white in response to whatever her serpiente companion had whispered to her. Her soft reply caused him to turn abruptly to look at the girl’s protector.

  “Jenna?” the unfortunate young serpent asked, voice small and hurt.

  The first tears rolled from her eyes, and though she hastily brushed them away, trying to compose herself as an avian lady is taught always to do, her alistair saw.

  The alistair left off his conversation with the girl’s father, striding through the crowd—which rapidly parted to allow him to approach the serpiente.

  Another serpent, who was closer than I, sized up the situation instantly and stepped between the two. He might have avoided trouble, but he made the mistake of grabbing the wrist of the angry alistair.

  Abandoning Syfka, I pushed through the crowd just in time for the would-be peacemaker to be shoved at me as the alistair pushed past him; before I could wrestle around the shocked serpent, I heard the impact of flesh against flesh, followed by Jenna’s cry as her jilted serpiente sweetheart threw the first punch at his avian opponent.

  Someone tried to call me back as I waded between the two, narrowly avoiding the bird’s retaliation. I caught the avian’s wrist before he managed to strike the serpent, who recoiled as he recognized me. The avian swiftly dropped his gaze before it fell upon Cobriana garnet, and he yanked his wrist out of my grip.

  I directed my angry question to the girl, whose opinion probably mattered most to her competing suitors. “Is there a problem here?”

  She shuddered and shook her head. Then she cast a longing, apologetic glance at the serpent before taking a tentative step toward her alistair, who took her hand and kissed the back of it. I suspected that the show of perfect devotion and forgiveness was done for the serpent’s sake, to keep him from getting any ideas about the future.

  The less lucky suitor shrugged, smiled and said lightly what was probably the most hurtful thing he could think of. “Well, I lost that bet.”

  Syfka smiled and for a moment looked gently pitying. “It isn’t meant to be, Kiesha’ra. Why don’t you give up this useless quest now, before your dreams have to be ripped from your hands?”

  “Your kind hides on its island, isolated from the real world, as unchanging as your god,” I challenged. “You have no sense of what war is like. You have no idea what it means to see those you love fall. You cannot possibly understand what it is to fight for what you believe, and how sometimes you have to fight with words and dreams after all the weapons have been put away. You serve a cold god, surviving on his power for thousands of years without ever living.” Too angry about the useless market argument to be fearful of the falcons or their empire’s wrath, I pushed on. “You speak of giving up my dreams. Have you ever, since Maeve’s coven split, had a dream? Have you ever had anything worth dying for?”

  “You could not possibly comprehend my dreams,” the falcon replied.

  “No more than you can ever understand mine.”

  Syfka nodded and began to turn away. Then she paused, smiling a little, and asked me, “Do you think your brother was dreaming of peace, when a hawk’s knife cut into his heart?”

  I went cold at the mention of my brother. “You …”

  “Anjay Cobriana visited our lands once. He asked us for power to help him slaughter his enemies, the woman you love among them. Did you think we would not keep track of him after he left?”

  Hearing this creature speak my brother’s name was like listening to blasphemy, even though she spoke thoughts I had many times considered. If Anjay had become king, would he have ended the war in blood instead of peace?

  “It surprised none of us when he took his little suicide trip to the Hawk’s Keep. He fought his way through half the Royal Flight—ask their captain someday which of them your brother killed. Ask them why a crow as young as Andreios was promoted so soon. Ask them how long the fifteen-year-old heir to the Tuuli Thea grieved for her slain alistair. Ask them which of the avians cheered, when the young child Xavier Shardae stabbed the cobra in the back.”

  I recoiled from the image she painted, wanting to challenge her and knowing it would do no good. I knew the evils of war. Danica and I had needed to forgive to end the hatred, but neither of us would ever forget.

  Some things I had never wanted to know.

  “Get out of my market,” I snarled.

  Syfka looked past me, and we both realized that the falcon merchant had fled during the earlier chaos. Syfka let out a long-suffering sigh.

  “Think about my words, son of Kiesha,” she bid me. “Give up before your hopes turn to dust.”

  I flinched from the harsh beating of aplomado wings inches from my face as she reverted to pure falcon form and again took to the skies.

  THERE WAS A STORM OF ICE IN MY HEART, and I knew by the way my people stepped back from me as I returned to the nest that I was showing it.

  The faces from the marketplace and the sound of Syfka’s condescending voice jelled in my mind so that I paused to try to compose myself before heading downstairs, wondering whether I should wait until I calmed down.

  A’isha intercepted me before I could make the decision. The dancer frowned a little as she said, “You’re too agitated for a man who has just learned he is soon to be a father.” I started to respond, but A’isha didn’t give me a chance. Instead she said, “Danica is a good Naga; she will be a good mother. The falcon must do what she will do before you can react to it. Troubles will pass. You will see. Now, dance with me before you wake your Naga and leave for the Keep; it is past time to greet the day that has given you this fortune.”

  No verbal answer was necessary, though my gratitude for her blunt words was immense. She drew me into the nest and onto the dais where Danica had performed. Had that only been a day ago?

  I stretched lightly. I had not danced recently, and I had no illusions that I could compete with those who usually performed in sha’Mehay, but A’isha knew how far my talent reached and was careful what dances she chose.

  She was also careful to keep in mind which dances a man did not perform without his mate. Instead she drew us into steps of thanks, praise, joy and hope.

  When I finally pleaded exhaustion, she smiled triumphantly. “I will always smile on the day I can outdance Kiesha’s kin. Now go find your mate, with a light heart instead of a frustrated one.” She all but shoved me off the dais, sending me stumbling onto the soft nest floor as I tried to find my balance.

  As always, the combination of A’isha’s directness and the dance had chased away old grief, irrational f
ears and words such as “impossible.”

  Stealing from the baskets kept by the fireside a small loaf of bread and a jar of honey—the simple fare I knew Danica preferred for breakfast—I made my way downstairs.

  I dropped everything I was carrying and sprinted the rest of the way when I heard a cry from Danica’s room. Shouldering through the unlocked door, I quickly took in the room—empty but for my mate, who was obviously in the grip of nightmares.

  I pulled her into my arms, waking her gently.

  She recoiled, and her eyes flew open. “Are you real?”

  I knew what had happened. When Danica was stressed or frightened, she was tormented by dreams that were so vivid, waking only brought more doubt as to reality.

  “I’m real,” I assured her, and finally she relaxed and let me hold her. “What was the dream?”

  “The first one …” she answered softly. “I haven’t had it in … months. Since I became Tuuli Thea. All this with Syfka brought the past to mind.”

  I knew only too well what she meant. “Tell me?”

  “It happened when I was … eight, I think. Back when my sister and brother were both still alive. I overheard one of my tutors speaking to my mother, telling her that Rei was missing, that she thought he had gone to … to look for his father.” She leaned her cheek against my shoulder, dropping her gaze. “I had never seen the aftermath of battle before. Never seen death. I found Rei …” She shook her head violently, saying, “It was stupid of me to go. Stupid. There were still serpiente there, though they weren’t fighting. They didn’t care about a crow-child. But a hawk …”

  She shuddered. “We were both nearly killed. I remember seeing a viper sink its fangs into Rei’s side, but … not much more. I was knocked out. Rei carried me back to the Keep. Everyone was amazed that he lived. He was only eleven, but he started training to join our army the next day.” Softly she added, “We both changed after that. I couldn’t get away from the blood even in my dreams, but I felt as if I had to keep going back to the field … to try to help, even if it meant just holding someone’s hand so they wouldn’t die alone.”

  She closed her eyes, leaning heavily against me. “At least now it’s only dreams. I never want to face that reality again.”

  Fate willing.

  Moments passed in silence before she reluctantly asked, “How are things going with Syfka?”

  “Intolerable,” I admitted. I did not want to detail my most recent confrontation with the falcon, and Danica did not press. “Luckily, she seems to have hope that she will find her criminal soon. I look forward to being done with this. Do you feel well enough to travel back to the Keep today?”

  “We need to,” she answered, but despite her tired tone, she was smiling.

  “We can postpone the trip if you’re not feeling up to it. You and our child’s health are more important than indulging Nacola.” Or Syfka, I thought. She could speak to the rest of the Royal Flight when Danica was ready.

  “Don’t worry; I feel fine,” Danica assured me. With wide-eyed innocence, she added, “I know how much it would disappoint you not to see my mother.”

  TOO SOON, it was time for the journey to the Hawk’s Keep—a ride I normally enjoyed despite my lack of fondness for the destination. I had become used to avians, in general; it was just Danica’s mother who made every visit to the Keep a trial.

  I put the thought aside, catching Danica’s hand to brush a kiss across the back of it as we walked to the stables.

  We traveled this route by horseback, accompanied by four of the Royal Flight and two of the palace guard. Betsy, who had never learned to ride, had already flown ahead and planned to meet us at the Keep. Valene had politely asked to remain in serpiente lands, expressing a preference for the company of dancers to that of the woman and court who had shunned her years before.

  The mood for most of the trip was light. Our guards spoke among themselves as they rode, sharing stories as we passed through a wood that had once been fraught with death.

  “How goes the dancing, Rei?” I heard Erica ask.

  The crow reddened, but he answered, “I don’t exactly have a knack for it, but I’m enjoying myself.” Was she the lady who had challenged him? Combined with Rei’s sharp defense of the sparrow when we had been discussing potential falcons, this light conversation made an excellent case that something was going on between the two.

  “When do I get to see—” Erica broke off, frowning, and said without changing tone, “A couple more just appeared.”

  At the same time, Ailbhe pulled up alongside us, his brows tense with concern. When he glanced at me, I saw that his eyes had turned pure blue, save for black slit pupils—snake eyes. Even before he spoke, I knew that his doing so would display fangs. Once, I had always traveled in a similar half form, but I preferred to stay in a purely human form when around Danica.

  “There’s a group in the woods, shadowing us,” Ailbhe said softly. “It started as one, but others have just joined them.”

  I nodded, then sped my horse up slightly to ride alongside Danica. My voice was light, so anyone following us would think it casual conversation if they caught the tone. “We’re being followed.”

  Her eyes widened fractionally. “Who?”

  “Not sure.” I cut the conversation short, moving slightly ahead of my mate. As Ailbhe had done, I shifted partially, utilizing the natural weapons and armor I always had available. More importantly, the slight change brought with it a cobra’s senses.

  There were six figures moving together, trying and failing to be stealthy. At least two were serpents; I knew that only by smell. I could feel the four avians by the heat emanating from their bodies. None of them was moving as if familiar with the forest, which meant they probably had not been professional soldiers.

  Rei whistled to his people, and we kicked up our pace to one that followers on foot would be hard-pressed to maintain.

  A sharp caw from the left attracted the guards’ attention. I felt the wind on my face as the members of the Royal Flight grew the wings of their Demi forms, elegant feathers spreading in a defensive posture. Ailbhe and Kyler, his second-in-command, followed suit, each unclipping from the side of his saddle the long, blade-ended stave the palace guard used in close combat. I saw scales spread across their skins, Ailbhe’s as white as morning frost, and Kyler’s brown and golden.

  The serpents came from the left, taking the attention of two of Rei’s people, while Ailbhe and Kyler confronted winged attackers.

  Rei shouted to Erica, “Get Danica and Zane out of here.”

  Any other time, I would have stayed to fight, but with Danica’s and my child’s lives at stake, I wanted to take no chances.

  Before I could kick my mount into a canter, I heard the fateful twang of a serpiente bowstring, heard the whistle in the air, and the wet sound of wood striking deep into flesh.

  Danica’s horse went down, an arrow deep in its shoulder. I rolled from my own mount as I saw her fall and landed on the soft ground with panic in my chest. Before I could rise, one of the avians thrust a blade toward me.

  Had I been in full cobra form, an observer would have seen the famous flared hood with its infamous markings. Quickly I let my natural snakeskin armor ripple into place across my arms and throat, then faced my attacker with slit garnet eyes and a cobra’s fangs.

  The shift made my attacker recoil. Instinctively I caught his gaze, drawing my blade in the instant my would-be murderer was off guard. Before he could recover, Ailbhe had engaged him, leaving me free to look at Danica.

  Two of the Royal Flight knelt beside her, their wings spread across her body, protecting her against other arrows. Was she hurt? Unconscious?

  Dead?

  She can’t be dead.

  Rei started giving commands again before I could get to Danica’s side. “Erica, get Zane. I’ve got Danica.”

  He shoved through the crowd, pausing only to extract his blade after it met an opponent’s throat. I only saw him lift Danica
in his arms before Erica spoke to me, but I heard the beating of his wings and felt the wind from them. He had her safe.

  “Change shape,” the sparrow ordered.

  “What?” If she intended to fly out of there with me, she was out of her mind. Even to save my life, I never wanted to have my feet more than jumping distance from the ground.

  A sound to my left caused me to spin, just in time to face another avian. I felt the sting of a blade breaking through my snakeskin before I could raise my own blade and make a killing blow.

  It was not pain that hit me, but something close, something suffocating and wrenching that froze my breath and darkened my vision, as suddenly I found myself recalling that avian blades were often poisoned.

  I heard Erica curse as she grabbed my arm, but then the pressure of her fingers on my skin faded … along with sight and sound and everything else.

  WHEN I WOKE, I found myself wondering whether my head had exploded—or whether perhaps that would be preferable. I rolled onto my stomach and had to grip the edge of the bed until I could convince the furniture to stay still.

  It couldn’t have been poison. Only one poison existed that affected a cobra that strongly, and if it was mixed strongly enough to knock one out, it was mixed strongly enough to kill.

  Was it something Erica had done?

  I started to push myself up and suddenly felt hands on my arms. I heard a voice saying, “Don’t try to sit up yet.”

  Warm hands, avian hands. Doctor’s voice. Were we in the Keep? We must be. How had I gotten there?

  I sat up anyway. The doctor, an avian I didn’t know, pulled back from me a little, but offered me water, which I drank greedily.

  My senses were returning slowly. Every muscle ached, but seemed to work. I managed to stand when I tried, though I had to grip the bedpost to keep from falling.

  The doctor implored again, “Please, you aren’t well.”

  My memories returned, and I demanded, “Where’s Danica?” My voice was hoarse, my throat as dry as ash.