Fugue Macabre: Bone Dance

by C. J. Parker

  A coyote sprang from the dark shadows of the woodland and landed at the edge of the circle. He sniffed the substance, snarled, then paced the edge and charged. He hit his face on the protective shield stopping with a jolt. The still air swallowed his howl of fury as a cougar pounced from the treetops, landing with a thud against the invisible arc above.

  Bobbie’s stomach twisted with pity for the coyote as he cried out in anguish from another attempt at breaching the shield.

  “More of your friends?” Beads of sweat dotted Tabatha’s brow from the strain of trying to keep her hold on the magic.

  Bobbie shook her head, but she was damn sure going to find out who these interlopers were. “I don’t recognize them. They aren’t from my clan.”

  “Enough!” A voice tore through the woodland. The attackers crouched low, their furry bellies in the mud, before running away.

  Rhonda’s eyes widened. “What in the name of sanity was that?”

  “The Tree Lady.” Bobbie sheathed her blade. She waited as Tabatha shuffled her feet over the area destroying the protective circle and grinding the symbols into the mud with the heel of her shoe.

  Rhonda wiped away the sweat running down her neck into her cleavage. “That was impressive. How’d you do that?”

  Tabatha laughed softly. “Page sixteen of the journal. It’s called the protective dome. Pretty neat, huh?”

  “Yeah, pretty neat. We could have used that a few fights ago.” Bobbie led the way through another twenty feet of trees and brush. When she broke into a clearing with Rhonda and Tabatha at her side, the frenzied activity around the common ground stopped.

  Women hanging laundry paused midway to the line, a man raking the fire pit leaned against his rake and stared in their direction, children stopped at their play. Bobbie’s attention shifted to the people gathered in a cluster near the Council House, nothing more than a rough-hewn shack on the outskirts of the village but sacred to the Moran clan. Every person in the village stood before them naked as the day they were born. She groaned. “They knew we were coming, so my bet is they think you’ll run screaming into the swamp. Don’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they got to you.”

  “You mean their nudity?” Tabatha shrugged. “I’m a doctor, remember? I’ve seen a lot of naked people. If those men knew the body parts I’ve dissected, they’d run screaming.”

  “Good grief.” Rhonda’s gaze dropped to the lower extremities of the men. “The men are so…um…”

  “Yeah.” Bobbie laughed. “Shapeshifter men are definitely…um…” Bobbie snapped her fingers, drawing Rhonda’s attention. “Get your fill now. When you meet them, look them in the eyes.”

  Bobbie’s scrutiny settled over the scene. The Houerv house, once a small green structure, was double in size and had been painted off-white with lavender shutters and a dark purple roof. Her brother, Elsu’s home faced the center of the clearing instead of the marsh to the south, as had all the king’s homes. Each roof held new solar panels providing them with electricity for the modern trappings they had become accustomed to having. All the homes sat on twenty-foot stilts raising them above the flood range. Her parents’ lot stood empty and her heart quaked as if it were sobbing. The hum of a few remaining generators clicking on and off ran through her like a welcoming chant.

  Home, home, home.

  “I’m home,” she whispered, and remembered how she’d sworn an oath never to return to this place. But now that she was here, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  The atmosphere hung like a cloak of dense fog. The hot metal scent of anger moved around her from the others in a suffocating heat. Strongest of all scents she tasted on her tongue, the heavy weight of grief that hovered over the village and threatened to crush her very existence. Her whole family was dead!

  My brother murdered only because he came to New York to find me.

  Tabatha gave her hand a squeeze. “Stand strong.”

  Bobbie swallowed hard and straightened her spine. Tabatha was right, she had to give the appearance of strength, though her soul quaked. “Walk at my side, not behind me. They’ll know I’ve accepted you as equals. Ready?”

  Forcing a smile, Bobbie strolled to the ancient oak centering the village and shading them from the noontime sun. The double row of stilted houses stood around them like guardians against the outside world, their dark windows glaring down on them. Coming face to face with the other shifters, she calmly waited as dozens of questions and accusations ran their course through the gathering men and women.

  “Why have you brought Outsiders here?” demanded a thin man in his late twenties whom Bobbie didn’t recognize.

  “Please, sit.” Bobbie squatted on the ground, as she gestured for her friends to follow suit. She waited until most were settled in a haphazard circle around her. “We, and all others like us, are in mortal danger from a group of Outsiders calling themselves the Guardians. This is Tabatha Gray.” She waved to her right then nodded toward her left. “And this is Rhonda Meads. They are to be treated with the same respect they’ve shown me. They are my friends, my sisters.”

  A collective gasp grew among the listeners. To call someone your sister was a great honor not given lightly. “Together we eliminated the Guardians’ destroyer. Thanks to Rhonda, we’ve gathered evidence that might shut down the ring of murderers. I’ve brought my sisters with me to help fight the battle ahead of us.” She glanced around at the people granting her their full attention. “I know you want to know what happened to my brother, your king. He was killed while in New York looking for me.” Bobbie fought the tears stinging her eyes, refusing to cry in front of her clan. “For that I will never forgive myself. But again, if we can rid ourselves of the Guardians, I believe we will be able to live in peace once again.”

  The stranger jumped to his feet. “And yet you bring Outsiders amongst us. Who are you to break this law?” He stood six feet tall, with a thin waist, slender hips and lifeless brown hair hanging over broad shoulders. Narrowing his copper eyes to mere slits, his features twisted with what she assumed was anger. Still Bobbie refused to acknowledge his comments, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had her attention.

  Her gaze traveled from one visage to the next, gauging expressions. Some were neutral and some friendly, still others, the ones who refused to sit at her request, were angry or sullen. Two childhood friends stood in the middle of the crowd. Mary’s expression softened when their gazes met, her blue eyes damp with unshed tears, her full mouth lifting in a slight smile. Bobbie winked and rolled her eyes. Sadie’s black hair had been pulled into a too-tight ponytail, drawing her dark eyes outward, giving her an Asian appearance. She looked at her husband’s reaction before copying his stern demeanor.

  “I demand an answer.” The shout reverberated around the compound.

  Fighting to remain calm, Bobbie rose to her feet. “Who are you to ask? Aren’t you an Outsider?”

  The man snorted. “I am Cuda, and you are the Outsider here. Leave this place. We don’t want you here. We want no woman leading us.”

  Bobbie nearly laughed. If he knew just how much she didn’t want this burden, would he jump at the chance to take her place? Bobbie sniffed his acid scent, recognizing him as the coyote that’d attacked them in the woodland. “Don’t be in such a hurry to jump into my position, Coyote. You may find the fire hotter than you can stand.”

  He snarled.

  She smiled sweetly. “Bite me, little man.” Bobbie turned away pleased at the look of approval on the faces of her clan.

  Screams of warning rose from the ones around her. A stinging gust of wind heated with the powers of an incantation raked along her skin and blew her hair away from her face.

  The interloper leapt to attack, but from mid-air, he fell to the ground, fingers clawing his neck as he struggled to draw air into his lungs.

  Magic shimmered around Tabatha in hues of blue and silver as she stared down at the struggling man.

  “Let him go, T
abatha.” Bobbie watched as her attacker inhaled greedily. Bobbie’s pulse quickened, blood rushed through her veins like molten lava. She grabbed him by the upper arm and yanked him toward her. “I ought to rip you to pieces. Do not cross me, or you will pay dearly. I may be a woman, but I am the last of the Moran bloodline. I rule here.”

  She flung him to the ground and confronted Tabatha. “Don’t ever do that again. This is my home, my people. I will fight my own battles.”

  Tabatha gave a barely negligible shrug. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to step on toes. I saw him attack and reacted.”

  Her gaze darted behind Bobbie and Tabatha quickly grabbed her arm and spun her around in time to see the man shift to coyote. Bobbie spread her feet and braced herself for the attack.

  He crouched. His lips drew back in a bare toothed growl and drool ran from his jowls in rivulets of slime.

  “Enough!” An authoritative voice shouted from the treetops. “Everyone back to what you were doing. Now!”

  Cuda slunk away from Bobbie, snarled, and shifted to human form. “This is not over, woman. We will finish this.”

  “Yes, we will. In good time.” Bobbie turned her attention in the direction the voice had come.

  All eyes turned to the huge oak centering the village. On the porch of a house built in its massive limbs, an elderly lady stood leaning against the railing. A gust of wind lifted her gray, floor-length frock and whisked the brown sash tied around her thin waist like a living whip sending her ankle-length, silver-white hair swirling out in a gigantic halo.

  Bobbie’s heart reached out to the old woman who had been a mother to her when her own had died. The Tree Lady wrapped gnarled fingers around a long, blue-beaded necklace dangling from her neck, stilling its swinging motion.

  “Madam Luckman, come.” She bowed her head slightly and swung her hand in a sweeping gesture toward the rope ladder leading up to her domain.

  Fugue Macabre: Bone Dance

  Bobbie returned the woman’s bow but eyed the...

  He glanced at the Tree Lady then back to Bobbie and nodded his answer.

  Fugue Macabre: Bone Dance

  “That, my dear friends, is the Tree Lady.” She winked at...

  Fugue Macabre: Bone Dance

  Chapter Two

  Bobbie led the way up the vine rope ladder as Tabatha and Rhonda followed. The ladder weaved through the branches and leaves of the century’s old oak to the woman’s home.

  At the top, Bobbie walked to the far end of the porch and pulled the plastic covers from two lawn chairs. “It’s best if I talk to Aetheria first. Wait here. It shouldn’t take long. If anyone tries to come up her while I’m in there, give a yell.” She said a quick prayer for strength before knocking on the plywood door.

  “You may enter, child.” Aetheria’s words drifted through the wooden slab separating them, her voice tranquil and controlled, like the calm before the storm, and Bobbie had experienced Aetheria’s storms before.

  Bobbie lifted the latch and entered. The one-room house rested at the top of the tree and allowed sunlight to enter through the skylight. Nothing had changed here. This small but strong house had been here as long as Bobbie could remember and the Tree Lady always there to comfort her and teach her. This place was the epitome of love and home.

  The room glowed with the luminescence of the sunset, accentuating the furnishings in sharp detail. The red velvet couch Bobbie’s father had made for Aetheria sat to the right of the door flanked by cypress tables with mystical symbols and strange words carved into the age-old patina. She remembered all the times she’d asked what they meant, but had been told she’d find out in time. At each end of the fireplace mantel above a faux fireplace, oil-filled hurricane lamps stood like guardians to chase away the darkness of the approaching night.

  Bobbie removed her tennis shoes before going farther into the room. Skins of Louisiana black bears covered the floor. She buried her feet in their coarse dark hair, curling her toes into the fur, the aura of the animals seeping into her soul.

  “Welcome home, Madame Luckman.”

  The sound of the old woman’s voice drew Bobbie’s attention to the only corner where the light didn’t reach out to chase away the shadows. Aetheria sat on a Spanish moss-stuffed mattress draped with colorful quilts. Off to her right sat the table Kangee and Bobbie had made for her when they were children. It consisted of nothing more than an old cypress knee and piece of plywood they’d found in the trash pile. Atop it sat old black and white photographs and tintypes from long ago.

  “Madam Luckman? What happened to plain old Bobbie?”

  “You are Queen of Clan Moran now.” The old woman bowed her head before returning her penetrating cataract blue eyed gaze on Bobbie. “Respect must be shown.”

  Bobbie yearned to tell Aetheria she wanted nothing to do with being Queen but thought better of it. “Not in this house and never to you.” What game did Aetheria play now? She crossed her arms across her chest just to have something to do with her hands. “To you, I’ll always be Bobbie.”

  “Where have you been, and what have you been doing since you left ten years ago?” Aetheria spoke slowly as if studying each word.

  “Going to school and working as a hospital attendant at night.” Bobbie forced herself not to take a step back when Aetheria jerked to her feet and walked toward her. She appeared to float across the space. The worn material of her long dress brushed against the rugs, filling the otherwise silent room with the whisper of silk against fur. With each stroke, it seemed to say, run, run, run.

  The old woman sighed dramatically and wandered closer, no more than a foot away. Bobbie had never noticed that Aetheria stood more than a foot shorter than she did. “That is not what I meant, and you know it. What did you do among the non-shifters?”

  “Survived.” Bobbie strived for an air of nonchalance. “Learning what the outside world had to offer.” What difference did it make? Why didn’t the old woman just ask what she meant? Why did you desert your clan?

  A skeptical but patient look reshaped the wrinkles on Aetheria’s face. “And what did you glean from the non-shifters that you couldn’t master here among your own kind?”

  Bobbie ignored the question knowing Aetheria would blow off any answer she offered. “Nothing” would be the answer she was looking for.

  “A lot has changed since you left, and I’m not simply talking about the death of your brother. Some in the camp stir up trouble and unrest.” Aetheria closed her eyes as if thinking how to continue. “That man, Cuda, came here a few months ago with harsh words about a leader who would abandon her people. He speaks of overthrowing your little kingdom and making himself lord.”

  Bobbie strolled to the window looking over the Gulf of Mexico. “Leave Cuda to me. My friends and I can handle him. We’ve handled much worse. The Guardians…”

  “Friends? Who are these girls? Did you reveal your secret? And what do they know?”

  “They know enough.” Bobbie remembered the first time she’d shifted in front of Tabatha. Rhonda had been kidnapped, and the only way to make Tabatha and her fiancé, Derek, understand she could get into the warehouse where Rhonda was being held was to shift to a snake. As a snake, she could slither into the building without notice.

  “Enough?”

  Bobbie smiled though her nerves tightened. Aetheria wanted to play a game of pin the tail on the right answer, but Bobbie wasn’t in the mood to be the blindfolded chump. “They have their own secrets. The blond, Tabatha…”

  “Tabatha Gray?” Aetheria’s brow furrowed as if in deep thought. “Raoul Gray’s granddaughter?”

  Surprise rushed Bobbie’s veins. “You know her?”

  “I knew her grandfather for a time.” The old woman turned to face her, and Bobbie saw a smile lift the corners of the old woman’s lips. “He was a very powerful Voodoo Priest. Did she inherit any of his abilities?”

  “She’s telekinetic and a strong necromancer.” Bobbie wondered what game Aetheria was playing an
d how much she already knew. Was she trying to catch Bobbie in a lie? “The telekinetic gifts are less dominant, but they reveal themselves when she gets angry. It’s kind of fun to watch—surreal, but fun.”

  With an unreadable expression, Aetheria looked away. “And the other?”

  “A firestarter named Rhonda Meads. She used to be scared of the whisper of the wind, but she’s getting stronger. She has a five-year-old son. We thought he’d be safe with his grandparents, and his grandmother is, well, let’s say she’s a bit overbearing. She’ll protect Shane.”

  “Protect him from what or whom?”

  “I tried to tell you earlier. There is a group of fanatics calling themselves The Guardians. They’ve decided anyone with ungodly powers should be eliminated, killed.”

  Aetheria waved her words away as if they were of no concern to her. “What have you been doing with these non-shifters?” Aetheria returned to the unlit section of the room.

  “After I saw to it that Elsu’s body was returned here for his ceremony, I visited Tabatha and discovered she and Rhonda were in danger.”

  “Why did you not return with your brother’s body? It was a grievous slight to him. Do you no longer think the ceremony of the dead important?”

  Tension tightened the muscles in Bobbie’s neck, and she rolled her head back and side-to-side. “The ceremony is for the living. It’s nothing more than closure, saying goodbye to someone who doesn’t know you’re there. Besides, I said my goodbyes in New York.” And begged for his forgiveness.

  Aetheria exhaled slowly. “Now tell me about these Guardians.”

  “Rhonda got her hands on their hit list, and it included her name and Tabatha’s.” Bobbie turned her back to Aetheria not wanting to volunteer the fact that her own name was on the list, too. “It was unknown how these killers knew about my friends until we discovered that Tabatha’s gardener was their leader. My name is on the list.”