Shapeshifters

by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

  I did not relish the thought of yet another long ride on horseback, so I accepted the offer immediately, as did Danica. Fisk took to the skies, promising to bring back the best artists and architects he knew, as well as some teachers and merchants whose ideas might prove useful in the creation of the markets and schools.

  Our remaining two avian guests entered sha’Mehay as if they were stepping into a temple, their eyes wide as they took in the studying dancers. A’isha, Danica and I discussed which of the serpiente we should invite, and as the afternoon lengthened, the crowd around the fire grew.

  Oddly enough, it was Tadeo who shone the most, taking the role of organizer. By the time Fisk returned with a group of avians, Tadeo had already set people into groups, each working on a different part of the new land.

  The merchants were put together to discuss how the market would be designed. Avian and serpiente scholars sat down together warily, but with some encouragement, they began to debate how best to combine their skills. A’isha led a group in designing Wyvern’s Nest, and in choosing who would be allowed to travel to the new nest to found it. Artists and architects claimed by far the largest area, as they created sketch after sketch, trying to blend the two distinctly different styles.

  The day turned to night, as it was wont to do even among the most inspired. The nest quieted, a few dancers performing their last stretches and prayers of thanks before they curled up around the fire. Most of the avian consultants left for their own homes and beds, but a few—Tadeo included—collapsed where they had been working, sleeping in the nest as the dancers did.

  I saw one serpent lie down not far from where the raven was curled up asleep. She drew a blanket over them both and snuggled against his back.

  Amazing how far we had come. A few days ago, I had been surprised to see Rei and Valene accepted as dancers in the nest; now anyone who wanted a part in this project was welcome. We had achieved half the goal of Wyvern’s Court simply by dreaming of it.

  OVER THE COURSE OF THE NEXT FORTNIGHT, the dream flourished. Soon one could hardly walk across sha’Mehay without dodging notes, charts, lists, diagrams or designs.

  Tadeo continued as the leader, working with his previous teacher to measure out the valley and mark the locations of pathways, houses, shops, the market center and a three-story structure built into the northern cliffs that would serve the same purpose as the Hawk’s Keep and the serpiente palace.

  Pointing to his sketched map of the area, Tadeo explained, “The brook and pool don’t have the best drinking water, but there are three springs in the cliffs that are cold and fresh. One is higher up—a couple of sparrows found it. It’s about the right height for us to build a fountain around it, and have it central in the top story of the Keep—or palace, or whatever you want to call it. The building is going to be worked into the side of the cliff. In the end it will stand tall and grand, but still be rooted deeply in the earth—a perfect combination of avian and serpiente ideals.”

  He continued his updates, which he had given us every evening since the project had begun.

  Danica and I both turned at a shocked cry from Lincon, one of the avian merchants from the Keep. “Not in the middle of the market!” He looked horrified by whatever his serpiente companion had said.

  “Where else would you put them?” the serpent replied, sounding genuinely puzzled.

  “I thought A’isha was dealing with your dancers,” the avian said, gesturing vaguely toward A’isha and her group.

  “They are designing the nest, but there needs to be somewhere for them to perform.”

  Fisk joined the discussion. “The dancers are a crucial part of serpiente culture, not to mention a beautiful addition to any public area.”

  “They may be important to the serpiente, but making their performances so accessible to our children just isn’t appropriate,” Lincon said. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for the dancers to remain in their nest, so the more impressionable of our …” He trailed off, because the room had suddenly gone very quiet around him.

  A’isha flitted over to the avian man, wrapped in quiet anger. “Have we harmed you in some way while you have been here? Has one of my dancers offended you?”

  Lincon pointed out, “It is not your hospitality I question, but your regard for propriety. I was propositioned within moments of entering your nest.”

  A’isha chuckled, shaking her head. “You are a pretty man, and you walked in alone.”

  Lincon cleared his throat. “I don’t think this is a laughing matter. Our young men and women should not be exposed to such—”

  I stepped between the two before the argument could go further. “Wyvern’s Court is not going to be a place where avians and serpents can turn their backs on each other, like neighbors who never speak. Our artists can’t be the only ones here who are willing to compromise. Every teacher, parent, child and merchant will need to do the same. A’isha, that may mean teaching your dancers to exercise care around avians new to Wyvern’s Court.” To Lincon, I added, “Compromise may also mean letting unattached ladies and gentlemen make their own decisions and mistakes.”

  I looked at Danica, remembering the first uneasy months after she had agreed to become my mate. She smiled encouragingly.

  “We come from different worlds,” I said, “but each has so much to teach the other. There will be moments of dissonance, when people struggle to understand each other’s ways, but once we get past our misconceptions, imagine the reward.

  “The dancers will perform in the market of Wyvern’s Court; they will be beside avian poets, singers, philosophers and storytellers or we cannot hope to succeed. Merchants will haggle prices and barter goods as they have in both our markets throughout history. Scholars will work to impart their valuable knowledge to their students. Artists will create beauty. And our children will grow up together, playing the same games, taught by the same teachers, living side by side until as adults, I pray, they laugh at the petty arguments we had in this nest while we designed their world.”

  “And ravens will dance, and serpents will fight for the lives of falcons.” The soft voice drew our attention to the doorway of the nest.

  Valene swayed by the door, her face pale and shining with sweat.

  “Valene, are you all right?” Danica darted past me to take Valene’s arm and lead her inside.

  The raven nodded. “It is … a long flight. I just need to rest.” Despite her obvious exhaustion, she said, “I spoke to Empress Cjarsa. She said she would consider my words; then she sent me home …. I don’t know what she will do.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I heard you speaking when I came in,” she said, lifting her head enough to look at me. She gestured to those surrounding us. “Is this a dream?”

  “This is real,” I assured her.

  She smiled, but her eyes were heavy-lidded. “I thought I might have fallen asleep already.”

  “That might be a good idea,” A’isha said. “You’re shaking with exhaustion. Let me help you downstairs, so you can rest. You have done much for us.”

  Danica, A’isha and I helped the exhausted raven downstairs and saw her tucked securely into bed.

  As we turned to leave, a serpent approached. Her expression held a bit of nervousness, as did her voice. “Zane, Danica, do you have a moment? I’d like to show you something.”

  A’isha returned to the main nest as we followed the new serpent to one of the other rooms downstairs. I spent the brief walk trying to place her face, which seemed familiar in one way, but completely alien in another.

  She stopped in the empty hall before one of the bedroom doors. The illusion rippled away at the same time that she said, “Before you act, remember that it was not I who took your people. Nor was it I who sentenced Kel to death.”

  Danica and I both recoiled from Syfka as she shed the magic that had hidden her. The falcon held out her hands, palms up in a timeless gesture of harmlessness—one that was an utter lie—and said before either of us c
ould speak, “Your raven speaks the old language almost like a falcon, and she is as quick to twist ancient laws to her advantage as Empress Cjarsa herself.”

  “And what of her request?” Syfka’s dark words about Kel made Danica’s voice soft. Danica’s hand again found mine, seeking support.

  “Though Sebastian was well hidden, Kel does not have the power to veil herself from royal blood,” Syfka explained. “I did everything I could to avoid bringing either of them home, and believe me, the Empress was not pleased with my failure.”

  “You did not seem so anxious to help us while you were here,” Danica pointed out.

  “I have no desire to help you or them,” Syfka answered. “But a crow has no right to the royal house, and despite his birth, Sebastian is far too tainted by his life here to be called anything else. And despite Cjarsa’s blind affection for the girl who was once hers, Kel will cause nothing but problems among our people. I would have gladly abandoned them both here, but Araceli was not anxious to give up her kin.”

  “So what now?” I demanded. “You would not be here if you—”

  “Araceli ordered Kel executed,” Syfka interrupted. “I convinced her that there were better ways to deal with the girl that would not martyr her. Eventually she concurred with my sentence.”

  “And Rei—Sebastian?”

  “Sebastian is dead,” she said. Danica’s hand gripped mine more tightly, until Syfka added, “In his mother’s eyes, anyway. I give your Andreios to you, provided you assure me you will keep him.”

  “Give …” Danica’s eyes widened.

  “It was lucky that Valene spoke to me first, and I decided to take her to the Empress. Cjarsa honors such ancient laws, but Araceli might have been inclined to make your raven disappear. Fortunately for you, the heir still must answer to the Empress, no matter how disinclined she was to give up her only son.” Syfka nodded at the room behind her. “Your people are there, somewhat worse for wear—and officially barred from our lands. Should they return, the raven dancer included, they will be executed on sight.”

  “Thank you,” Danica managed to reply.

  The falcon tossed her head. “Don’t thank me. They both paid the price for their crimes. Though considering what I see here, they may soon regret your efforts to regain them. Snakes and birds,” she spat. “It was never meant to be.”

  “Somehow, I don’t find your opinion important,” Danica replied. “Now step aside so I can see my people.”

  As I watched, Syfka’s form again shifted to that of a familiar-seeming dancer. I had no doubt that she would walk out of the nest as easily unnoticed as she had come in. Danica rushed past me to the room where Rei and Kel were supposed to be.

  Kel was kneeling as we entered, bending over Rei’s still form.

  She looked up as we came closer, and I winced at what I saw. Her violet eyes were dull with fatigue; only a hint of triumph in her gaze kept me from hating myself for not fighting more to keep her. The left side of her jaw was the sickly green-yellow color that a bad bruise turns before it heals. Strands of hair had fallen out of her ponytail and hung around her face.

  She was wearing a falcon shirt, which left her arms and most of her back bare, and the skin it revealed had livid welts, bruises and deep cuts that had yet to fully close. Her shoulders glistened with what looked like faint silver lines drawn across her skin to form symbols that were both familiar and strange.

  Rei was resting in Kel’s arms, unconscious but breathing. His face was shadowed by his nearly black hair, but like Kel’s, the skin I could see was bruised, cut or shimmering with what I suspected was some strange falcon magic.

  “You’re truly with us?” Danica whispered. “Syfka said … I barely believed her.” Danica fell to her knees beside the pair, reaching forward and then pulling her hands back as if afraid she would hurt them. “You need a doctor.”

  Kel shook her head sharply. “I’ll heal. Some of these will scar, but … they’re meant to. No doctor will keep my skin from being marked when Araceli went out of her way to make it so. Rei will be fine, too. He passed out barely after we touched the ground here; please let him sleep.”

  Kel lifted Rei, gently laying him on the bed before she begged of us, “Please, water?”

  “Of course,” Danica answered, standing quickly. “I’ll bring it. Rei can rest here, and you are welcome to use one of the other rooms. Do you want anything to eat, or should we let you sleep?”

  The falcon hesitated. “Food. I don’t think I’ve eaten … in a very long time. Thank you, milady …. Danica, my true queen.”

  KEL INSISTED ON GOING UPSTAIRS into the nest instead of staying downstairs, where it was calmer.

  “I need to prove to myself I really am back here,” she explained softly as A’isha chastised the people who had immediately descended with questions. “The nest is so infinitely different from the white city.”

  She broke off the instant food was presented to her, staring at it for long moments as if not believing her eyes. After that, she ate with a hunger that reminded me more of wolves than of graceful falcons.

  She also drained glass after glass of water and finally slowed enough to sip a hot tea. The color began to return to her skin, though in places the change served only to accentuate her injuries.

  “Feathered Hades, girl, when did you last eat?” Tadeo gawked. He was almost hustled out of the nest, but Kel smiled wearily.

  “Before I left the Keep,” she answered. Her voice was as dry as dust, and she took another sip of her tea, which was flavored generously with honey and sage.

  “It’s been weeks,” I protested. She was obviously thinner, but not so much—

  Kel managed an expression too tired to be patronizing, then answered simply, “When I was four years old, I stood in the Ahnmik courtyard for a fortnight, not moving, drinking or eating, just focusing on my magic. The test is one all falcon children take, to see whether they have the power to be—oh, but you don’t care; it doesn’t matter now. That world is gone to me and good riddance.”

  With these last words, she emptied her tea and sat back in her chair, closing her eyes.

  “How good it is to be here,” she sighed.

  A small sound brought our attention to where a much-bedraggled Andreios stood in the doorway. He was gripping the edge of the frame, but his eyes took in everything around him, as if he was as starved for the warmth and companionship of the nest as Kel was for food.

  I offered him my hand, too grateful to have him back to speak.

  Rei looked at it for a moment as if not understanding, then gripped it as if he would lose the earth if he let it go. Leaning on me, he made it with near-grace to the fireside.

  As Kel had, Rei put away more food than I had ever seen him eat in one sitting, and he drained water glasses as fast as they were set before him. Every now and then he would stop, his eyes lifting and lingering on something with disbelief—sometimes Danica, sometimes me and quite often Kel.

  Only after the food was gone did he ask Kel, “You came after me?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “Don’t be.” Her voice was also soft, but it held no uncertainty. “You are needed here.”

  “My mother was not happy to part with me.”

  “No,” Kel answered, “she wasn’t.”

  For a while, there was no conversation, as no one wanted to be the first to question the falcons about what had happened, and everyone wrestled with curiosity.

  Finally, Danica raised her voice in one word to Andreios: “How?”

  I knew she wasn’t only asking how he had gotten out. Rei started at the beginning, the part Danica was most curious about.

  “We were together in the Keep’s library when you heard that Andreios was gone. Remember I tried to stop you from going after him,” he answered, voice pained. “I followed you, to keep you safe, but I was too slow. One of the serpiente struck you across the head. Another bit your Andreios. I fought them off,
but you were unconscious and Andreios was poisoned. I tried to force-change him, but …” We already knew the result. “It was too late, or I wasn’t strong enough. I had just enough energy to bring you home, and then I collapsed. I had taken too much of the poison from Rei trying to save him; it nearly killed me. It was days before I was fully awake, and then I was locked in Andreios’s form for days before I regained my strength.”

  He took a deep sip of his water, looking at Kel to continue for him.

  “He had already disobeyed a direct order to return, insisting instead that he wanted to swear his loyalty to a different queen. For most falcons, that would have been enough to merit death. No one would dare execute Araceli’s only child, even for treason, but then he stole a crow’s form,” she explained. “It is one thing for a guard to acquire another form in the service of her Empress, as sometimes happens, but quite another to sully the royal house. It took them years to come searching for him because it took Araceli that long to convince the Empress that he should still be considered a falcon, and not put to death as a mongrel.”

  “I knew I could not go home,” Rei continued, “and I was terrified that you would force me away if I told you what had happened.” Finally he raised his eyes to Danica, his expression pleading. “I swore my life and my loyalty to you, to protect you no matter the cost, no matter the situation. I stayed as Andreios first because I was frightened not to be him, but later because he gave me an identity. I could not save him, but he could save me.”

  Danica brushed her fingertips across his cheek. “You are Rei. To me, you will always be Rei.” She shook her head. “I understand. I forgive you.”

  “Thank you, Dani.”

  Danica smiled at the nickname, but then the expression faded as I asked, “What now?”

  Defiantly, Kel asserted, “They hold no claim to either of us now. Our magic is bound. Our falcon forms are bound. I have my sparrow and Rei has his crow, and we have the forms you see now, but that is all.”