Shapeshifters

by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

  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.”

  AT ARACELI’S DEPARTURE, the air thinned; breathing again became easy, and I fell to Danica’s side.

  I was barely aware of the guards around us, who had come to their queen’s defense and been held just as helpless as I.

  Danica reached up and wiped a single bead of blood from the hollow of her throat, where the tip of Araceli’s blade had rested. Her chest rose as she started to push herself up—and then she paused, dropping her head into her hands.

  I waited for her to look up again, my mind following a train of thought that must have been the same as hers.

  Araceli had called her son “Sebastian”: the sweet young falcon who Danica remembered with a bittersweet smile because he was her last memory of childhood.

  Danica had always wondered how she had survived a serpent’s attack, with Rei poisoned and her unconscious. Had Sebastian tried to save Andreios from the serpent’s poison by force-changing him and earned a crow’s form in the process? Or had the shift been more deliberate, a young man’s desperate attempt to keep from going home? Syfka had ordered him to return to Ahnmik on the day Rei was hurt, so no one would have thought to question his absence when the substitution was made.

  His recent erratic behavior had now been explained, though I wished it had not. No wonder he had wanted to leave the Royal Flight. If Danica had released him from his vows as captain of her guard, he could have returned to Ahnmik—to protect her, as he always had.

  “Danica?” I touched her arm and felt trembling beneath my fingertips. She did not respond, not yet.

  Now Nacola hurried into the room and knelt beside her daughter. “Shardae?”

  Danica balled one hand into a fist for a moment, shaking … and then relaxed as with a conscious effort. She took another deep breath, and suddenly I felt her force back the grief that had been rising—force it back and lock it tightly away.

  As if I was suddenly struck blind, I lost her; she hid her soul from me even more carefully than she had when we had been enemies conversing for the first time.

  She lifted her head finally, smoothing her hair back with her hands. For a moment, her face was vacant of expression. Then I saw the blankness drop, and it was replaced by a casual façade that was even more disturbing.

  “Well,” she said, without a tremble in her voice.

  “Danica—”

  She shook her head, cutting me off. “There was nothing we could do.”

  This calmness frightened me more than any blade I had ever faced. “I know.” Again, I implored, “Danica, are you all right?”

  “Fine,” she answered. “It’s … difficult to imagine, that’s all. Rei, being someone else for all these years. And now gone.” But still there was no more tone in her voice than if she had been speaking of the weather. “It will be awkward losing him.”

  Awkward? I couldn’t even reply to such emotionless words.

  Gerard stepped forward, just behind Nacola.

  For an instant his concern for his queen was obvious, but then he hid himself as flawlessly as she had and addressed her. “Andreios was a good leader, and very organized. We can make Kel’s position as flight leader permanent, and I know at least a half dozen fighters who are eligible for promotion to fill the missing spot.”

  Danica nodded while I continued to watch the conversation with ever-growing horror. Surely this controlled calm had helped during times of war, when they had faced so much death every day, but I would never be able to endure it comfortably.

  “Danica, we can deal with these things a little later,” Nacola said gently.

  Dani
ca nodded mechanically, standing without assistance. I looked away from her to Nacola, hoping for some words of help.

  “Watch out for her,” Nacola commanded me, speaking past Danica as if she was not present. “I have not seen her this way since her alistair died when she was fifteen. The only person able to draw her out last time was Andreios … Sebastian, and it took him weeks.”

  Andreios—and that was how I would always think of him, regardless of what name Araceli used—was not here this time. Though there had been jealousy between us on more than one occasion, Rei and I were friends. Losing him could not hurt me as much as it did Danica, but it hurt all the same. I prayed to any gods and goddesses who might hear for the strength to see my mate through this. I prayed for the strength to deal with it myself—for my sake, Danica’s sake and our child’s sake.

  Two slightly ragged-looking guards approached us, one limping. They hesitated, looking first at their queen, at me, at Nacola, and then at Gerard, as if not sure who they should address—if anyone.

  “Yes?” Danica asked.

  “Milady, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but … Kel is gone.” The guard swallowed tightly before continuing. “She took her falcon form and went after Araceli and Andreios. Two of us tried to go after her, but we’re no match against a falcon. She made us turn back.” How she had made them was evident in the stiffness of their movements. “But I saw her overtake Araceli’s group. She didn’t stand a chance. They’ve taken her with them.”

  I was too shocked by this second blow to know how to respond. Beside me, Danica also stood silently.

  Nacola stepped forward to take charge. “Gerard, you’re the senior member of the Royal Flight. I expect you to make sure this doesn’t cripple the Keep’s guard.”

  “Yes, milady.”

  She gave her orders with a natural air of command that I had not seen her assume since Danica became Tuuli Thea. “You two, you’ve been injured. Patch yourselves up and get some rest,” she said to the limping guards. “Everyone else who knows what’s going on, get to the market and the court and spread the word that we have lost two of our people. Hear me, I want them spoken of as our people, not Araceli’s; they were loyal and deserve to be remembered so. Zane, get your pair bond to Betsy.”

  Danica tried to protest, but Nacola held up a hand to silence her.

  “I will believe that you are fine when your doctor tells me it is so,” Nacola stated. “Now go—if not for your sake, then for my granddaughter’s.”

  Betsy commanded Nacola, the Royal Flight and me not to leave Danica alone, and to make sure she ate and slept, two things that she skimped on whenever she was upset. I knew about the sleeping; I had a feeling I would be faced with several more of her bouts of lucid dreaming over the next few days.

  Danica’s grief at losing Rei was enough to break even the coldest heart, and mine could never have been icy enough.

  She spent the first few hours leaning on the balcony, with only her mother for company. I suspected they were sharing stories of the loyal falcon-turned-crow, private stories I had never heard and likely never would.

  Hoping my mate was in good hands, I found Gerard in the study reserved for the leader of the Royal Flight, poring through the notes Andreios had left for Kel.

  “Andreios was a good leader,” he said as soon as I entered. “His files are well organized. He kept up-to-date lists of potential new members—when they first requested consideration, their history, their schooling and his observations. We can never replace those we lost, but I can start interviewing and testing potentials to fill the positions this afternoon.” He paused, finally looking up from his lists. “Danica is with her mother, I assume?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “My presence seemed …”

  “Intrusive,” Gerard filled in when I floundered for words.

  Intrusive, yes. I had not grown up with Andreios or ever known the falcon Sebastian before he stepped into the crow’s life.

  And I could not stand there and share recollections as if he and Kel were dead. I couldn’t.

  “I am glad the Royal Flight is in good hands,” I said. “Do you think there is any way for us to get our people back—if not Andreios, at least Kel? Whatever crimes she committed were slight enough they left her here once. Is there any chance …”

  I trailed off, because I saw the doubt on Gerard’s face.

  “I have never been to Ahnmik,” he answered. “I have, however, had the honor of drilling against both Andreios and Kel, and that was enough for me to know that I would never want to fight a falcon seriously—without even taking into account falcon magic. Araceli held you, me, Kel and the rest of the Royal Flight from going to our queen’s side, without even looking strained. Confronting them on their territory would be suicide. If they send our people back, it will be because they choose to.”

  I began to pace, because this feeling of helplessness was driving me mad. “There has to be something ….”

  “There isn’t always a way,” Gerard pointed out.

  “Not always,” I admitted, “but blind determination hasn’t failed me so far.” As the thought occurred to me, I added, “There is another falcon in the serpiente market, who was luckier than Rei and Kel. Maybe he will know something. I can also speak to Valene Silvermead, since she is still staying in the dancer’s nest. One of them must know something that can help us.”

  “I wish I shared your faith.”

  “Only Danica needs to. I will see if she is well enough to travel tomorrow morning.”

  The conversation lapsed into silence for a few moments, and I struggled to find a lighter topic.

  Finally, I inquired, “How is your lady love faring in all this?”

  His expression shifted, betraying the smile of one happily besotted despite the circumstances. “I think she is as stunned as everyone else, but she is a very strong, capable woman.”

  I couldn’t resist the urge to tease a little. “Strong and capable? Flattering descriptions, but hardly warm enough to merit the soft look in your eyes.”

  “She isn’t a serpent, who wears her passions like jewelry and dances barefoot in the morning,” Gerard answered. “She is an avian lady, serene and composed even when she is upset. Strong, and capable.” More softly, he added, “She guards her heart and soul tightly unless she is around those she most trusts … so every little glimpse she allows me is like the silver moon rising over the sea.”

  “A’le-Ahnleh,” I responded with newfound respect. “My best wishes to you both.”

  I spent the rest of the day alternately checking in on Danica—who spent the hours either with her mother, or in solitude—and drilling with the Royal Flight. Gerard had sent out missives to a few of the most promising recruits Rei had named, so I was called in to help test their skills.

  The loss of its leader was a harsh blow, but the Royal Flight was not easily defeated. Discerning eyes, however, could see the forced bravado and enthusiasm the more seasoned guards showed their newest members.

  As evening fell, Danica drifted to my side. Finally true darkness overtook the Keep, and we were alone for the first time since the falcons had been taken away.

  I stood on the balcony outside our room, watching Danica stare out over the forest, and not so much as sigh. Avian reserve, her people called it, but it spoke of denial, and the circles under her eyes belied her calm.

  Although she let me draw her into my arms, she otherwise barely acknowledged my presence.

  “Danica, are you …” I trailed off, because there was no reason to ask such a question. She was not all right, and if I asked, she would simply continue to deny that she wasn’t.

  “My mother told me today that one of the Royal Flight has begun to court her,” Danica said, and for a moment the statement seemed so inane and out of place that I hardly realized the importance.

  Then I made the connection. “Gerard?”

  Danica nodded. “I told her there was no reason for him to leave the Royal Flight. He is sworn to
protect the royal house anyway, and has always been one of her guards. Swearing his vows as her alistair does not seem like a conflict.”

  I could see many reasons for it to be perceived as a conflict, but Danica continued before I could voice them.

  “She says she is too old to hope for more children,” Danica added, “but I doubt that is true. Maybe it would be better for her to have more. Life is safer now that we are not at war, but having only one potential heir to the throne is … hazardous. And we will not have another.”

  The words, and the offhanded way in which they were spoken, made me cold. Logically, yes, I understood the desire for multiple children in the royal house. However, any child of Nacola Shardae would be a pure-blooded hawk and, as such, as capable of usurping the throne as safeguarding it.

  Danica must have thought of this, but just as she remained silent about her feelings on losing Rei and Kel, she refused to speak of it.

  I broached the first painful topic, because I had no idea yet what to do about the second.

  “If you feel up to traveling, I think we should go back to serpiente lands tomorrow. I haven’t given up hope that we may be able to somehow bring our people home, and I’d like to ask Valene, at least, if she has any suggestions.”

  Danica nodded mechanically. “My mother and Gerard have things well under control here, if we travel to the palace.”

  Her eyes followed a natural bird as it skimmed over the treetops in the warm night air. It dove, disappearing into the forest, and Danica said, “Araceli took them so easily. You really believe that we could somehow take them back?”

  “I am not ready to give them up as lost,” I answered. I pulled her closer, and finally she leaned against me.

  “Idiocy,” she sighed, as pain leaked into her voice for the first time. “First I miss Andreios, and then I feel foolish for missing someone who was never who I thought he was … and then I feel ghastly for being angry with him, when I think of all the times he protected me over the years, and what he is probably going through now.”