The Shapeshifters: The Kiesha'ra of the Den of Shadows

by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

  I stroked her back and she continued. “Then I think of Gerard, and my mother, and I think I should be happy for them. I know I should be glad if my mother has a chance at more children after having lost so many … but I hate the thought that our child might then be denied the title she should have without question.”

  Though relieved that Danica shared my concerns, I wished this blow had not come so soon after the last. Neither of us was ready to face it.

  She turned to me and rested her cheek against my shoulder. “You’re supposed to be the one going to pieces, not me,” she teased.

  “You have every right to be upset, and every right to show it, with me if no one else,” I assured her.

  “It’s so hard,” she whispered, “adjusting to the fact that the real Rei has been dead for more than half my life. He died protecting me, and I never even knew to mourn him. I was so young, but even so, I feel as if I should have known. I always thought his father’s death and our brush with our own had changed him … but it didn’t just change him. He wasn’t even the same person. I grew up with Rei, and I couldn’t even tell that someone else had taken his place.”

  Suddenly she shook her head and pulled away from me. “If you want to travel to the palace tomorrow, we should probably sleep.” Once again her voice was calm, and once again I hated hearing it.

  “Come to bed, then.”

  She hesitated at the balcony, but then turned and followed me inside, keeping a careful distance.

  Even more than I wanted to bring Rei and Kel home, I wanted to see Danica smile again—or even cry. Anything would be better than this emotionless poise. Perhaps sha’Mehay and its dancers could revive her, unlike her mother and the solemn Hawk’s Keep.

  MY FIRST STOP once we got to serpiente lands was sha’Mehay. The dancers greeted us warmly, though we were hardly two steps inside the doorway when I saw the first nervous, questioning glances. We were the first to return from the Keep since Araceli had come. I did not relish the news we brought with us.

  “I need to speak to A’isha and Valene.”

  Instantly, the two were before me. A’isha started to usher us to one of the more private rooms, but I shook my head. The more minds on this question, the better.

  “The falcons found their people,” I said. Valene winced, and I saw A’isha pale.

  “Who?” the dancer asked softly.

  “Syfka organized a ‘test’ to out the falcon. Erica Silvermead revealed herself, while saving my mate’s and my daughter’s lives.”

  “Oh, gods,” Valene whispered, dropping her head into her hands. “Is Kel … they took Kel back?”

  “She wasn’t the one they were looking for. Syfka would have left her here, but she went after them, when Araceli took Andreios.”

  A’isha let out a cry, her face going white. One of the other dancers steadied her, and I could see in his gaze the same pain.

  “What was he accused of?” Valene finally asked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” A’isha replied, speaking loudly to the whole gathered group. “He was one of ours, a dancer in this nest. I won’t see him slandered, even by the falcon Empress.” Instantly she turned to me, demanding, “How do we get him back?”

  “He is Araceli’s son, Sebastian,” I explained. “Her only heir. If there is a way—”

  “There is a way,” she interrupted before I could express my doubt. “Falcon or not, her heir or not, he’s one of ours, ra’o’sha’Mehay. The Cobriana learned years ago that you don’t hold a dancer against the ruling of the nest. The shm’Ahnmik might as well learn the same.”

  Her determination was infectious. I saw the heat returning finally to Danica’s eyes—hope. False hope or true, it was something. At least we would do all we could.

  “There is a falcon in the market,” I said. “The baker Seth. As he’s the only local falcon I know of, he seems a good person to ask for information.”

  “He hasn’t been in the market since Syfka was here,” one of the dancers told me. “I can check his house, though.”

  “Please.”

  The dancer disappeared out the door, but all those remaining kept their attention raptly on me.

  “Valene, you’re our resident expert,” I continued. “Any suggestions?”

  Looking the most doubtful, Valene replied, “When I visited, I heard nothing of Araceli’s having a son. Children on Ahnmik are so precious, there must have been a reason for her to let him go the first time. Considering how reluctantly changes are made by the royal house, and how much effort was put into bringing him home quickly, there must also have been a reason they wanted him now. I don’t know how any of us could discover those reasons, though.”

  “Any thoughts on Kel?” I asked, though I knew it must be a painful subject for her. “I assume you know more about her history than I do.”

  Valene shook her head. “I doubt that. She told me once that knowing the reason for her exile was dangerous.”

  “What do we hope to accomplish here?” The voice rang out from a python in the back of the room. “We’ve all heard stories about Ahnmik. We all know the myths. We all know—or more rightly don’t know—how powerful the falcons are. It’s sickening that they can just say someone is a criminal and take that person away, but it’s not as if they picked up a serpent. They took falcons. Two people who, as loyal and wonderful as everyone keeps saying they were—and I’m not forgetting that Erica, or Kel, or whoever she was, hated serpents vehemently when I first met her—lied to everyone around them about who they were. People call them brave, but does a brave man hide who he is behind a disguise? Everyone gets venerated once they are gone. But all I know about these two is that they were cowards and liars who, a year ago, would have killed me without hesitation. Why should we risk angering the falcon Empress for people who were never ours?”

  “I’m sorry, I thought we had accomplished something these last months.” Danica’s voice was level as a blade. “I thought maybe we were past feathers and scales. We are not talking about two falcons, we’re talking about two people.

  “We are talking about Kel—a young woman who abandoned everything she knew to save someone she loved from torture and execution. A young woman who entered our world—hidden, yes, because she had to be—in a desperate attempt to have the kind of life we all take for granted. A young woman who used to dance in her homeland, and who teasingly challenged the man she fancied to learn. A young woman who again lost everything, this time because she saved the life of her queen—and couldn’t stand to see Andreios taken away without fighting for him. And we are talking about Andreios.” Danica choked up for a moment, but before the serpent she was challenging could speak, she took a deep breath and cut him off. “The falcon who became Andreios was twelve when he first saved my life. You call him a liar, and you call him a coward, but you are oceans away from the truth—”

  “I’m sorry,” the serpent whispered, his quiet words silencing her more quickly than any angry protest could have. “Maybe I’m wrong; I didn’t know them. But I still don’t think we can save them.”

  “If they were serpents,” Danica asked, “would you be so willing to give up?”

  Silence, broken by the return of the dancer who had gone to look for the falcon merchant.

  “His house has been cleared out,” he announced, oblivious to the tension that was in the room when he entered. “It looks like he ran as soon as Syfka found out who he was.” Belatedly, he looked around. “Is there a problem?”

  The serpent who had challenged us shook his head. “Just me, being … me.” To Danica, he explained, “I shouldn’t have spoken as I did. But I think I’m not the only one who still holds a little natural distrust of an avian soldier. Add to that learning they were falcons to begin with …” He shrugged. “My nest leader, my Diente and my Naga all speak for Kel and Andreios. That’s enough. It’s not as if I know anything helpful to you anyway; it’s none of my business.”

  Once again A’isha took charge, though this time sh
e did so in a decidedly cooled atmosphere. “The dancer’s guilds are as old as Maeve’s coven. Any obscure information we have about falcons and falcon laws would be in the texts downstairs. Even if we can’t find a way to bring our dancers home, we may find something helpful for the future.”

  As nice as that sounded, it was less helpful than one would imagine. Of the writings done by the ancient coven, all that was left were copies of copies of words written in the old language, and much of them were obscured by mythical fancies.

  The sun set over the nest, and dancers around the room stood and stretched, arching their bodies as the red light trickled into the room from the open ceiling. A pair went around the room and lit lamps, then stroked the embers of the previous night’s fire into full bloom again.

  Danica lay beside me as I pored over one of the many inscriptions, tired eyes befuddled by the whirling designs the letters formed.

  “Well, I feel useless,” Danica sighed.

  “I’m not doing much better,” I admitted. “I studied the old language when I was younger—every cobra does—but only enough to have the barest understanding. All this is written using more complex forms, and many of the symbols seem to have been either embellished or abbreviated. This squiggle, for instance, is completely meaningless to me.”

  Valene shifted to peer over my shoulder. “Lar,” she translated. “I think. She’maen’ne’lar. Or—wait, I see it. Someone copied the breaks wrong. She’maen’nelar.”

  Danica rolled onto her back, running her hands through her hair as she yawned. “Valene, I’m suddenly even more impressed with you than I ever was.”

  The raven smiled at the compliment. “On Ahnmik, it’s traditional to fill the space around letters with further designs that complement the lines of the writing. I think a few of these were copied from writings like that, which means it’s very likely mistakes were made. I’ve been reading one where half the marks don’t resemble any symbol I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  “I found a description of Queen Alasdair,” A’isha called. “Whoever copied it made a note that the first draft was attributed to Kiesha.”

  Danica brightened, moving over to where A’isha was reading. “What does it say?”

  “Mana’o’saerre’la’Alasdair … the hawk queen, Alasdair … rai’maen’ferat’jaes’girian … golden lady … hmm … Valene?”

  The raven took over, skimming the piece a few times before she read it slowly. “The hawk queen, Alasdair, is both a golden lady and a young girl, with too much power for her years. She is serene, but there is a sadness in her eyes I cannot speak to. She is the same age as my son, and I pity her for not ever sharing his freedom to be a child.”

  The words were bittersweet, and familiar to us all. Everyone born during war knew what it was to see childhood fade too quickly as pain and loss stole the years away.

  “The serpiente were only in Alasdair’s city for a single night,” Danica said softly. “How could words like those have been written just hours before the avian-serpiente war began?”

  I shook my head. We would probably never know what really happened that night, or why. We would only ever know the aftermath, and hope we could reach past it.

  “ZANE! DANICA!”

  I groggily lifted my head as I heard A’isha’s and Valene’s excited cries. Danica did the same beside me, blinking sleepily as we were both awoken. Judging by the otherwise silent nest, it was probably barely before dawn.

  A’isha brushed aside the bits of writing we had been working on when sleep had taken us, and she tumbled to sit in front of us.

  “I kept thinking last night that Rei was my student, one of my dancers, and so I should be able to protect him. Like I said yesterday, the guild has always dealt with its own. Nest justice always comes before outside rule. With very few exceptions, even the Cobriana have acknowledged that.”

  I found myself wondering whether she ever slept, as my own sleep-deprived brain fought to catch up with her thoughts. “Unfortunately, serpiente tradition won’t stay a falcon’s hand,” I said.

  “That’s what I first thought, too,” A’isha answered. “Valene thinks otherwise.”

  The raven’s voice was excited despite her obvious fatigue. “The dancer’s guild originated with the Nesera’rsh, a powerful group from the time of Maeve’s coven. From what I can tell, they’re the modern equivalent among Anhamirak’s followers of the falcons’ Mercy. I didn’t think much of it until A’isha found this.” Valene began to read the flowing, slippery words of the old language excitedly.

  “Maeve’hena’o’Dasi’mana-La’pt’hena’o’itilfera’alistair …”

  Danica and I both blinked at the incomprehensible language. Valene translated swiftly. “‘Maeve stands as leader to our thirteen, and we as guides and guardians to the village. We speak our rituals to the realm of the divine, but it is the Rsh who hold the records, and speak law and justice to the land. Each’—the closest translation I can think of is nest—‘is a realm unto itself, and its rule over its own is undisputed even by our voice.’”

  I stared at the page, desperately wondering if what I thought was true.

  Valene confirmed my suspicions. “The original was written by one of the thirteen members of Maeve’s coven. Specifically, by the hand of shm’Ahnmik’la’Cjarsa—the falcon Empress. Kel could be a trickier case, but Andreios was studying with A’isha. Cjarsa herself acknowledged the independent law of the Nesera’rsh, and in current day, that means this guild.”

  Their excitement was infectious, but I struggled to stay reasonable. “These words were written thousands of years ago. Much as I would like to believe them, it seems unlikely that the falcons will relinquish Araceli’s only child because we discovered words that were written before the Dasi split.”

  Valene listened to my doubts, but spoke calmly once I was done. “There’s a line in the old myths about how ‘Ahnmik turns all vows true, all lies apparent, and the written word as blood in stone.’ It would seem reasonable that some of that would carry over into their magic. I would have mentioned it earlier, but I never imagined we would find proof of any vow we could possibly hold the falcons to.”

  Still, I found it hard to believe that these powerful creatures could be so easily manipulated by ancient texts. “You sound more certain than I would be, if I had only that one line of myth to go on.” I tried to make my voice gentle, because I did not want to destroy what was so far our only hope, but I also could not let them charge into a plan with no basis in fact.

  “I’ve seen for myself how a falcon treats promises as irrevocably binding, whether she wishes to or not ….” Valene took a breath and continued, “Erica was thirteen and Kel sixteen when Kel first came to us. The night Erica’s brother died, Kel held the girl and told her, ‘The sun will rise tomorrow, and life will go on. It will still hurt. You will still miss him. But eventually things will get better.’ Erica asked her, ‘You promise?’”

  Valene shook her head. “Kel just turned away, and I was furious. She told me later that she couldn’t make that promise, because we were in the middle of a war. We could all be killed, and even if we weren’t, she wasn’t sure things would get better. I told her Erica needed hope. I asked her, ‘Would it have killed you to make that promise?’ She looked away from me and said, ‘Maybe.’”

  The raven’s lip began to quiver. A’isha went to her and held her hand as she drew several deep breaths.

  A’isha spoke while Valene composed herself. “If it’s true that Ahnmik’s magic forbids even that kind of white lie, then maybe it really would hold Cjarsa to these laws. No matter how long ago she wrote them, she signed her name and made them her vow.”

  Something else occurred to me as A’isha spoke. “When you gave the Ahnleh to Danica, you said the charms used to be worn by the Nesera’rsh. You thought there was a time when even enemies at war wouldn’t harm someone who wore one.” A’isha nodded, and I turned to Danica. “None of us could have stopped Araceli from threatening you at th
e Keep, but after she saw the pendant, she backed off.”

  Danica nodded. “It seemed like a miracle at the time, but maybe …”

  “If our charm could stay a falcon’s hand, then the word of the descendants of the Nesera’rsh could be enough to bring one of our own home. It’s still a long shot,” A’isha said, though her voice was light with excitement. “It would require the royal house first listening to our petition, and then acknowledging Rei as one of ours—which I imagine they’ll be reluctant to do if it means they will lose him. But it seems the best chance we have.”

  Valene had recovered enough to add, “I can speak for us, as a dancer and a raven, so they can’t deny Rei’s place in the nest because of his feathers. As for Kel—” Again she hesitated. “You said Syfka would have pardoned her?”

  “She was willing to leave her with us,” Danica replied. “She believes exile in our lands would be as great a punishment as any the Empress would level.”

  Valene nodded. “I understand Kel was once a favorite of the Empress. If Cjarsa was willing to release her once, perhaps she will allow Syfka’s sentence to stand.”

  The hope still hung on magics we did not understand, but it was better than none at all, and every moment made it seem more possible.

  “Valene, you are willing to do this?” I asked. Though Valene had not spoken of any danger posed to the messenger, I did not count on benevolence from any creature who would carry away our loyal guards and hold a blade to my queen’s throat.

  “I am the only dancer you have who is capable of flying to Ahnmik,” she pointed out. “Further, no one in this nest is as fluent in their language or as versed in the etiquette of falcon society. I have to do this—for Rei, and for Kel.”

  “Very well, then. When do you wish to leave?”

  “As soon as possible. It will take me a few days to get there, and I do not know how long I will need to wait before I am allowed an audience.”