by Jean Johnson
From there, she shifted again, this time into her barn owl shape. One of the other warlords, Jumaj, shifted his own flesh, toughening the skin of his left arm from fingers to elbow in stout reptilian scales. With his reshaped limb serving as an impromptu gauntlet, he offered it to Tava, who stepped from the ground to his wrist, letting him lift her up so that she could be displayed and examined. His precaution was wise; her talons were long and sharp, and the poking and prodding and manual spreading of her wings forced her to clutch at his arm a couple of times for balance. From owl shape to raven was easily managed, though again she disliked having her wings manhandled.
As soon as she was lowered back to the ground, Tava transformed back into her human self, shifting from feathers to fur. It wasn’t enough to make her feel decent, though it was more the exposing of her shifting abilities that left her feeling naked than the lack of clothes. Stooping, she picked up the foxfur quilt Kodan had given her and wrapped it around her body. Not for warmth, given the heat of the bonfire at her back, but just to give herself some mental privacy.
“. . . Atava Ell Var has displayed ten pure forms,” Warlord Jumaj stated as she tucked the fur and linen blanket back into place. “Arahala Jen Liu has demonstrated only eight. Atava is the superior princess.”
“—I’m still learning my shapes!” Rahala protested. “Give me a few more days, and I will surpass her! I know I can learn at least two more shapes, if not more. I am the superior princess, and the rightful ruler of Family Tiger!”
If she had still had cat ears, Tava would have laid them flat against her skull. “You would have to learn five more shapes. I have three shapes I have not yet displayed for judgment, including my hummingbird form, which for safety’s sake, I should not reshape for the rest of today. One of the other two is also out of the question at the moment, as it is the body of a river eel. A water-breathing creature. I’d have to transform in a pond or a tub, or even in a bucket, provided it held enough water for me to breathe.”
“And the other form?” one of the other warlords asked.
“It’s a creature called a pseudo-tree. I ran across a description of it in one of my father’s books, and decided I’d try to master its shape. It’s a carnivore that lives on the west coast of Aiar, but it disguises itself to look like a plant, and barely moves at all until a suitable animal comes within reach of its branch-tentacles. The book speculated that it was left over from the old mage wars, prior to the unification of the Empire a thousand years or so before it Shattered, but couldn’t prove that it had been manufactured by any one particular mage. Because of its rarity and unusualness, I doubt you’d accept it for those reasons alone.”
“You’re right. We wouldn’t,” Jumaj agreed. “Not without looking at this book, and maybe even finding a far-traveler or two who has seen one of these creatures for themselves.”
“Strange creatures or not, Atava has proven she can take on more forms than Arahala,” Tofris reminded them. “Arahala claims she can learn more, but she hasn’t actually done so, yet . . . and many of us have often boasted we could learn more shapes if we only tried . . . only to fail when we do try. Unless and until Arahala can shift more shapes, Atava is the superior shifter, and thus should be the Princess of Tiger.”
That caused another stir of conversation among the members of Family Tiger. Tava opened her mouth to say she wasn’t actually interested in being the leader of an entire Family, particularly when she was so new, but Rahala beat her to it. The other woman raised her voice to be heard over the muttered speculations of the Family.
“You can’t be seriously considering giving the leadership of Tiger to her!” she protested, poking her thumb at Tava. “She’s an outlander! Yes, she’s passed her ten days of instruction, but it takes years to actually understand our ways, and years more to gain the training a true leader needs! I am the native-born and native-raised shapeshifter. I am the better choice to lead our people.”
“Enough!” As before, the single, shouted word silenced everyone. Kodan gestured for the other warlords to sit back down, now that their examinations were through. “Arahala, I concede your point. Atava is still new to the Shifting Plains and does not yet fully grasp our culture. As such, she cannot lead Family Tiger at this time.”
The Shifterai woman all but preened under his acknowledgment. “I’m glad you see the wisdom in my words and have chosen what is best and right for the Family.”
“Which is why I do not choose you.” At her shocked look, Kodan permitted himself a slight, tight smile. “You are just as ignorant as she is, in your own way. It is true that you were born a Shifterai, but you have not been a shapeshifter long enough to grasp all that it entails. You have not yet grasped what shapeshifters can and cannot do. Nor have you fought as a shapeshifter. Atava knows very little of what it means to be a Shifterai, this is true, but she has been a shapeshifter for many years.
“Because of these things, it is my judgment as Lord of Family Tiger that neither of you have enough experience to lead Family Tiger as it should be led. Not at this point in time.” He met the gazes of both women levelly, hoping that Tava—Atava—at least would understand why he was saying these things. From the faint nod she gave him, he knew that she understood. Rahala—and he still couldn’t bring himself to think of her name with the honorific—folded her arms across her chest, looking like she was barely restraining herself from arguing her case.
“Thankfully Shifterai law has an established precedence for circumstances like this. For the next full year, I will remain the Lord of the Family, and both of you will be apprenticed to me.”
Both women blinked. Tava looked more taken aback by his statement, but Rahala looked stunned. Kodan could guess why. The mere thought of Rahala being made his apprentice was not something he would have cared for under other circumstances, but it was the price he had to pay for being a good leader. That meant thinking of the needs of the Family over his own preferences and wishes. Even if it meant working closely with a woman he couldn’t otherwise stand.
On the one hand, Rahala had expressed an interest in working toward being recognized as worthy of the Sister Council, and some of the things she had done in the past had suggested an aptitude for it. And on the other hand, she just might slip up at some point and show a side of herself that neither Council would accept in a leader. Or as the saying goes, hand her plenty of rope, and wait to see whether or not she trips herself with it.
Kodan continued. “In many respects, this will be very much like a miniature apprenticeship to the Queen and her Councils, save that it will last only one year, not five, and you will be apprenticed to me and not Her Majesty. In all other regards, it is similar. You have passed the initial Princess Challenge and will now undergo the necessary period of instruction. The Council of Sisters and the Council of Shifters will train you in the ways of both shapeshifting and leadership, and as you progress, you will both be given greater and greater responsibility in managing the Family.
“This apprenticeship year will have a dual purpose. You will not only learn how to manage this Family ... you will both be given enough time to fully learn your shapeshifting abilities. For you, Arahala, you may have lived among shapeshifters all your life, but you are only just now stretching your powers. For you, Atava, you may have stretched your powers for many years, but you have done so almost entirely on your own, and you may find yourself benefiting from the wisdom the Shifterai have gained in all our practice over the years.
“At the end of the apprenticeship year,” he continued, “you will each display all of the shapes you know, including any you may have learned in the interim. The Councils will review your progress and pass judgment as to whether or not one or both of you need a second apprenticeship year. If the Councils approve of your training and consider each of you fit for leadership, whichever woman has the greater number of shapes will be made Princess of Family Tiger.
“If you have any objections to my ruling in this matter, now is the time to air t
hem,” Kodan finished. His attention was more on Rahala, who opened her mouth, then closed it, so he was surprised when Tava spoke. More than that, he was surprised by what she said.
“I do not have any objections; what you suggest sounds just and fair. I do, however, have a question,” she said, meeting his gaze steadily. “Given that you yourself have only just become Lord of the Family, what reasons would you give to Family Tiger for remaining its Lord and leader while we undergo this proposed year of training?”
For a moment, Kodan felt betrayed by her question. It was an open challenge to his authority over the Family, and with it, his solution to the problem at hand. Tava gazed at him steadily, patiently, but without the slightly sullen challenge in her eyes that Rahala held. It was obvious Rahala thought he was just trying to withhold the power she wanted. Tava, on the other hand . . . was waiting patiently for him to answer.
Not to justify myself to them, he realized, looking out over the rows of children, women, and men waiting for his reply, but to answer the doubts she has raised. The doubts a lot of them might very well be having . . . particularly those who like and support Rahala. Clever, clever woman. Resting his fists on his hips, he answered her calmly, making sure his voice was loud enough to be clearly heard.
“I have three things that neither of you have in full. I have a lifetime of experience in living on the Plains and following the Shifterai laws. I have many years of experience as not just a shapeshifter, but as a multerai, for I have mastered more than ten pure shapes. And I have led the South Paw Warband on many of its expeditions for the past seven years,” he listed. “For these reasons, I am better suited to lead this Family for the next year than either of you.
“For another reason, I have undergone an apprenticeship of sorts, working within the Council of Shifters for many years, cooperating with the Council of Sisters, studying the writings of past leaders, and helping to represent Family Tiger at the Clan Cat Council of Shifters each winter. I have more direct experience in the means and methods of managing this Family than either of you. Family Tiger is both wealthy and powerful in Clan Cat because it is well managed . . . and I will not see it mismanaged by an inexperienced fool, nor hand it over to someone who only cares about the power and prestige of such a position and nothing about our people.
“If anyone objects to that . . . they are free to find another Family.”
Only the crackle and hiss of the bonfire at his back and the rustling of the wind through the camp broke the silence following his words. The Family absorbed his answer, studying him with thoughtful expressions. A few of the older members actually looked pleased, which contrasted with the boredom on the faces of some of the younger children.
Tava dipped her head in a partial bow. “... Thank you for answering my question. I will submit myself to the proposed year of apprenticeship.”
“As will I,” Rahala added firmly.
“Good.” Craning his neck to peer past the teaching geome, Kodan gauged how much time was left. “Now, if we hurry, we can get our newest princess settled into her new home. The bachelors of the Family will assist Atava. Report to Kelsa for instructions. You have just enough time to arrange her quarters in the maiden’s geome before the sun sets and still see your way back to the ageome for the rest of the festivities, if you hurry.
“Those of you who brought food, do not forget to take back your dishes by the end of the night . . . and everyone be more careful of what they’re doing whenever they’re near the bonfire pit. Now, let’s have some music again,” Kodan ordered, nodding at the instruments that had been abandoned. “As you have all just seen, we now have several things to celebrate.”
THIRTEEN
Once again, Tava found herself contemplating the night-shadowed ceiling of a geome. This one was much bigger than Priestess Soukut’s portable home, though not quite as large as the ageome. Just a little larger than the warband version, it had the same cloth partitions used to give the men on night watch some privacy in which to sleep. The two main differences were, the middle ring had six support poles instead of four, and the area between them and the lattice walls had been curtained off into nine sections, two per gap between the poles, not counting the gap at the door, which was left empty for a sort of entryway, but including the double-wide space across from it, which she had been given.
Three lightglobes hung from the ceiling in net-woven bags. Two of them had been double-rapped sharply to extinguish their magical glow, while the third had been very softly tapped by Kelsa, and now provided the faint light allowing Tava to stare at the ceiling and count the staves radiating out from the middle ring. Her bed was still a narrow Shifterai cot, though her own feather-stuffed bedding had been pushed and shoved and squished into a thicker shape to fit on the tightly interwoven ropes. She could still see the fingers of the men as they deftly passed the stout cords back and forth through the holes in the frame, weaving them into a sturdy cross-hatch that could support her weight.
None of those fingers had belonged to Kodan, however. Nor had he been one of the men arranging her other belongings: her chest of books; her trunk of clothes—Shifterai clothes, her Mornai ones having been picked apart to salvage the cloth—one of the benches from her former home, which served partially as a night table; and her father’s scribing table and chair, which she still had to remind herself were now hers.
Many eager hands had made the work pass with unbelievable swiftness. From the declaration that, as she was a princess and this particular geome had the room, she would get twice the space of the others, to the final settling of her father’s . . . of her chair in front of the writing table, the work had barely lasted longer than it took for the sun to slide from a thumb length above the horizon to less than halfway below it. No sooner was it done than Kelsa had shooed the men out of the geome and given Tava a brief reintroduction to the other occupants, young women who ranged in age from two fourteen-year-old cousins to Kelsa herself at twenty-four.
After that, they had all returned to the center of the encampment for a few more hours. Kodan had been around, and he had been polite, but he hadn’t approached Tava for an actual conversation. It was the thought of his actions and his distance which kept her awake now, staring at the dimly lit poles supporting the complex roof of the rounded, domed tent.
He can’t have been too upset at what I did . . . can he? She knew he was smart and thought things through. From the moment she realized how he was going to outwit the Alders of Five Springs, Tava had known he wasn’t a man to be underestimated. And his answer to my question—bold though it was—did come out very eloquently. I know he quelled a lot of the doubts I could see in the others’ eyes regarding his own leadership abilities. That’s why I asked it, and I’m positive that’s why he replied so well.
Outside, she could hear someone walking between the felted structures.
But . . . was I too bold in asking it? I tried to ask it politely, tried to do it in a way that showed some faith in him, some courtesy for his position . . . but did I offend him anyway for openly voicing all those potential doubts?
Such thoughts made her want to tuck herself firmly back inside her cocoon. The last thing I want to do is to lose his esteem . . . and his affection for me.
She twisted onto her side, trying to get comfortable . . . and the feather-stuffed pallet slumped beneath her, part of it spilling over the edge of the narrow cot. Sighing heavily, she climbed out of the bed and stripped back the sheets and foxfur quilt covering it. I’m going to have to restitch the mattress cover to fit. Thankfully all I have to do is grab it along one side and shake all the feathers to the other, then measure the width of the cot and stitch down through the emptied bit.
... Actually, if I grab it and give a good shake now, then tuck the emptied bit under, that might work. At least for one night. Gripping the sturdy canvas cover, Tava heaved it up, emitting a grunt, trying to shake the feathers down. A whisper startled her.
“Tava?”
Giving up on h
eaving the pallet onto its side, Tava moved closer to the bench, which had been placed along the curving lattice wall. She couldn’t see through the thick layers of canvas and felt, but a quick, subtle shift to sharpen her hearing let her pick up the sounds of someone breathing just beyond the barrier of wood, linen, and wool. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Kodan,” he murmured. Standing in the near-dark outside her tent, clad in wool garments lined with his own fur, he wasn’t physically cold. But there was something that prickled at his conscience, chilling him, and he needed to discuss it with her. “Could I see you outside for a few minutes?”
Tava knew he couldn’t come in to see her. Soukut had confirmed that an unrelated man and a maiden could not be in the same private, enclosed space between sunset and sunrise. She also didn’t know how lightly or heavily her fellow maidens slept at night; a half-murmured conversation through a wall tent might wake the others. There was also the fact that if Kodan wanted to chastise her for her brash question, Tava didn’t feel like letting anyone else listen.
“. . . I’ll be right out,” she whispered. A glance down reminded her that she was still wearing one of the few Mornai garments that hadn’t been scrapped, but her nightdress was hardly appropriate for wearing outside. Finding the blue and lavender wool chamsa she had been wearing earlier, the only garment to have survived the fiasco with the bonfire, she buttoned it over her loose, linen shift.
Despite the rug cushioning her from the grass, the ground was a little chilly beneath her feet. Rather than bothering with trying to find something to wear, Tava simply shifted the skin of her soles into something thicker, more insulated. She could do that now, without having to worry about it being noticed.
Padding as quietly as she could over the rug-strewn ground, she slipped through the door of the geome, catching the spring-hinged panel before it could bang against its frame. Once it was shut quietly, she turned to find Kodan standing less than an arm’s length away. He didn’t hold out his hand to her, but he did tip his head, silently asking her to join him in moving away from the geome. Nodding, she walked beside him all the way back to the center of the sprawling camp.
