Authors: Seressia Glass
“Greetings, Grandmother,” Kira said, inclining her head slightly as a sign of respect. Any further and the bultungin would think Kira had placed herself lower in rank. As if.
“Shadowchaser Solomon,” the older woman said. “We are surprised by your presence here. Outsiders do not come to our contests.”
“There’s a first time for everything, Grandmother,” Kira said respectfully. “It’s my duty as a Shadowchaser to be an ambassador of sorts to the preternatural community.”
“An ambassador?” The elder’s gaze flicked to Khefar. “Then you have brought our kandake a token of your esteem?”
Crap. Diplomatic fail. “My apologies, Grandmother,” she said. “Khefar is my partner, not a gift.”
Khefar jerked in surprise. Kira slashed her hand at him. “Don’t say anything, for the love of Ma’at and Isis.”
“Partner?” The elder echoed. “You don’t mean that you, Chaser Solomon, think of this one as equal to you?”
Kira suppressed a sigh. “Yes, elder, I do. He helps me with my investigations. I am not bultungin. Your traditions are not my traditions.”
“Ah, he works for you. Then, there is no issue with me taking him.”
“Does she mean what I think she means?” Khefar whispered, his hand dropping to the Dagger of Kheferatum. The dagger responded with a surge of power. Even without touching it, Kira could feel its need to fight, its craving to draw blood.
“Yeah. I’ll handle it. You work on calming that blade down. We don’t need this to get any more ugly than it needs to.”
She looked at the gathered were-hyenas milling about, though she doubted there was anything random about their movements. More likely, it was a subtle attempt to keep Kira from getting an accurate count. “I’m going to say this with all due respect, Grandmother: you touch him, you die.”
The older woman put her hand on her hip, surprised and affronted. “Excuse me?”
“I mean this for all the bultungin,” Kira said, keeping her tone easy, though she meant every word that she spoke. “Khefar is mine, and I will not share him. You will not take him. You will not touch him. You won’t even look at him funny. If you do, you die.”
The elder cut her eyes at the were-hyenas milling about. “We are bultungin. We do as we please.”
“That is your right,” Kira said, nodding for emphasis. She bared her teeth. “Just as I have the right to kill you if you harm one hair on his head.”
“You can’t kill all of us.”
“That’s true … for the time being. You can run faster than I can, so it would take me a while to hunt all of you down.” She kept her hands loose at her sides, calling attention to her weapons while simultaneously showing that she wasn’t relying on them. “Tell me something, elder.”
“Tell you what?” The older woman’s voice flattened with anger.
“I simply wonder if the challenge is over, and you have become kandake? I thought there was another who challenged Kandake Amoye for leadership of the clan.”
The elder’s lips thinned. “There is. The challenge has not been fought yet.”
“Then are you not speaking out of turn?” Kira asked, knowing she treaded on thin ice. She couldn’t tell which way the elder’s loyalties swung, and didn’t want to rile the woman further. No one was taking Khefar from her if she could help it, and she certainly could. “I thought that you advise, the kandake decides.”
The elder drew back as the high-pitched agitation increased among the clan. Khefar tensed. Kira forced herself to remain outwardly relaxed. She couldn’t show weaknesses to a people barely this side of wild. She did not intend to become prey, but she didn’t want to create a diplomatic incident and turn an entire breed of hybrid against her either.
The feather-mark at her throat twinged once, a reminder of her role as the Hand of Truth. “Grandmother, I have to wonder if you are deliberately delaying me from seeing the kandake,” she said on sudden inspiration. “As the Hand of Ma’at, I have unencumbered passage.”
“The Egyptian gods do not hold sway with us, young Shadowchaser,” the matriarch replied, heat creeping into her voice. Some of the hyenas tittered in response.
“Perhaps not. But truth is universal, isn’t it?” Kira unzipped her jacket enough to expose the mark of Ma’at’s feather at her throat. “The light of Truth burns brightest in darkness, whether that darkness is a place or a soul. I’ll ask again. Are you delaying my meeting with Kandake Amoye?”
Kira locked gazes with the were-hyena, refusing to back down. The other bultungin stilled, waiting for direction from the more dominant female. Finally the elder threw out a hand. “Let them pass.”
Most clan members faded into the darkness, save for the two largest, who acted as escorts. Kira glanced quickly at Khefar, who gave her a brief smile. “My hero,” he whispered.
“Knock it off,” she muttered even as she warmed inside. Good to know that Khefar seemed to be a study of composure. Of course, they hadn’t gone completely into the hyena’s den yet.
The clan guards led them along a hard-packed path of Georgia red clay to a square of apartment buildings stacked five stories high. A door stood open to one of the ground-floor units in the center of the block. With her hand on her Lightblade and her senses on full alert, Kira followed the elder inside.
Comfortable furniture filled the living-dining combination room. Several young were-hyena, in human and animal form, lounged on the taupe-colored sectional, watching a reality television show. They barely looked up as the older woman escorted Kira and Khefar through the serviceable kitchen and out the back door.
Kira had wondered how the bultungin indulged their changeling nature. She’d assumed that some of the reported sightings of coyotes in the Atlanta area could have been attributed to were-hyena being careless with their shape-shifting. Seeing the courtyard gave her an understanding of how they managed their dual natures.
The central courtyard was huge, far larger than it had seemed from the outside view of the buildings. The rectangular area sported a towering oak tree that had to be more than a hundred years old, with massive spreading branches covering almost all of the open area, making it impossible for Google Earth or any other satellite system to catch a view of the clan’s after-dark work. The bultungin, some in their hyena form, some in human form, crowded the balconies overlooking the courtyard and thronged the grassy area surrounding the large tree, women, children, some teens, and a few men here and there.
“How very circle of life,” Khefar murmured.
“Dude, seriously?” Kira shook her head. If joking helped him keep his mind off his memories, he could joke all he wanted.
Under the tree itself sat what could only be called a throne, a wide chair hewn from rustic wood and draped with animal hides. Two young women in black leather jackets and pants stood on either side of it, wearing smaller versions of the necklace the elder wore. They must have been the matriarch’s daughters, DeVonne and DeRhonda.
The leader of the Westside Were-hyenas sat in the chair. Delores Amoye looked every bit the African queen she was, draped in an orange-and-gold traditional robe and headdress well suited to her proud chin and sculpted cheeks. Her cowrie-and-wood necklace sported a large false phallus that hung down between her breasts as befitting her rank as the alpha female.
Kira nodded. “Kandake Amoye.”
The bultungin leader nodded to the same degree. “Shadowchaser Solomon,” she said, her voice thick with a southern flavor. “We weren’t expecting you, but you are welcome.”
A commotion had some of the bultungin scattering, yipping their eerie call. A young woman, her hair in red and black synthetic braids hanging past her shoulders, pushed through the crowd. She wore an ankle-length dashiki that seemed ill suited to her style and demeanor. The look of irritation that crossed the clan leader’s face clearly identified the brash young woman to Kira.
“What the hell is this?” she demanded, stopping in front of the throne.
The kandake didn’t acknowledge the young woman, at least not directly. “We met before, Shadowchaser, but this is the first time that you’ve visited our clan. Unfortunately
somebody
decided out of the blue that they wanted to challenge me for leadership, and the rules say I have to answer that challenge, no matter how re-damn-diculous it is.”
“I understand that, Kandake Amoye,” Kira answered, swallowing a smile. Now was not the time to show her amusement. “That’s why I’m here, to observe the challenge.” She didn’t look at the agitated young woman beside the kandake. “Am I correct in assuming that this is the one who thinks to challenge you?”
“Who asked the Chaser to come here?” the young woman, who must be Roshonda, demanded. “We don’t need outsiders interfering in our lives.”
“That goes to show how you ain’t ready to lead anything,” the kandake retorted. “The Shadowchaser will stay.”
“I don’t want her here.” Something dicey shifted behind the were-hyena’s eyes.
The kandake’s lips curled into a snarl. “Child, until you beat me and achieve some rank, it doesn’t matter what you want.”
Roshonda folded her arms, thrusting out her lower lip. “She shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not?” Kira asked. “What are you afraid of?”
“I sure as hell ain’t afraid of you,” the young were-hyena spat, jerking her head to punctuate her words. “I could rip you to shreds without even breaking a sweat.”
Khefar stepped in front of Kira, his hand on his dagger. “Try it,” he said, his voice overflowing with vengeful eagerness. “Please.”
Roshonda tossed her hair. “If she needs a man to protect her, she obviously ain’t worth my time.”
Oh, no she didn’t
… Kira put a hand on Khefar’s shoulder and moved forward to confront the clueless bultungin. “Bitch, please. Because you ain’t worth
my
time, you’d fight him instead of me. Oh, and I’m staying.” Kira settled her hands on her hips. “Unless you want to try and make me leave?”
The were-hyena cocked her head, as if listening to a disembodied voice. Kira had kept a shade of her magic about her as they’d entered the apartment to act as a buffer and a defensive shield. She tapped into it, allowing her magic to open her third eye and push aside Logic’s Veil.
An aura of Shadow magic draped the young were-hyena.
“She’s under the influence of outside magic,” Kira announced. “Someone is manipulating her.”
Roshonda screeched, a high-pitched yowl that grated along Kira’s nerves like sliding along asphalt after falling off a motorcycle. The young bultungin’s features rippled and ran as she stripped off her robe, then leapt toward Kira, shifting midair. Kira drew her blade, heard Khefar do the same to his khopesh.
A dark blur whizzed past them. Roshonda slammed to the ground. Kandake Amoye stood between them, her right hand partially formed into a claw. “You do not come up in my house, attack my guests, and disrespect me. Your fight is with me, young one. Don’t show your ass.”
The young were-hyena rose unsteadily to her feet, shaking off the blow. She bared her teeth, her head lowered. There was nothing submissive about her posture, however. She had no choice but to fight or be forever banned from the clan.
“Roshonda, you voluntarily distanced yourself from the clan after your mother died,” the kandake said, removing her elaborate headdress and handing it to one of her daughters. “You turned your back on us and refused to accept all the benefits that being part of the clan can offer you. And now you think to come back and attempt to show me up in my own house?”
The bultungin’s eyes glowed with her power. Several of the were-hyenas chittered in response. “I can be compassionate and show you mercy because you have not learned all that you would have had you chosen to stay with us. Stand down, and you will be welcomed back into the clan as the lowest-ranking female. You can learn what you need to learn about what it takes to be a true bultungin. If you do not retract your challenge, the lesson you’ll learn tonight will not be as easy.”
Kira thought the kandake was being excessively lenient with the young were-hyena, but kept her opinion to herself. If it was up to her, Roshonda would never be allowed anywhere near the clan again.
The hyena bared her teeth again, then spoke, her voice twisted and rolling in her throat. “Shove your mercy. You are past your prime and your time. It is time for you and yours to go.”
DeVonne, the elder sister, stepped forward, her features twisted in a snarl. “Let me fight her, kandake. I will show her what it means to be lipwereri!”
Kandake Amoye held up a hand. Silence fell, instant, total, strangely unsettling. The absolute otherness of those gathered around the great tree was easy to see and completely unnerving.
“Your education has been severely lacking, pup.” The matriarch’s voice rang with reproach as she stripped off her robes, revealing a body at the peak physical condition of an alpha were-hyena in her prime. “You will learn that to your sorrow. Defeat me, if you think you can.”
The kandake shifted form quickly and seamlessly, a testament to the depth of her power. Kira could still see the Shadow magic gripping the young female. She almost felt sorry for the challenger, but Roshonda had accepted help from a Shadowling; she’d have to pay the price for that.
The challenger circled the matriarch. Kira didn’t know much about were-hyenas or their wild cousins, but it didn’t look like a fair fight to her. The matriarch easily outweighed the younger hyena by twenty pounds, all of which seemed to be pure muscle. The alpha female was also taller and broader in the shoulder. Kira couldn’t believe that the younger bultungin had willingly agreed to challenge the older, more experienced matriarch.
The challenger darted in, powerful jaws opened in a snarl. Kira didn’t see the alpha female move, but she did see the young female go flying, skidding across the grass and landing hard against the tree. The smaller hyena climbed to her feet, shaking her snub-nosed head. The alpha female simply stood in the center of the clearing to the right of the great tree, waiting for the challenger to charge again.
Charge she did, barreling into the larger female like a stampeding buffalo. The two combatants rolled, snapping and growling, their breaths steaming the cold night air. Kira heard the distinct crunch of breaking bone, followed by a howl of pain. The two females broke apart, the smaller one limping, right front paw dangling. She bared her teeth, then growled, a sound of sheer bravado. The larger one stood tall, ears pricked forward, tail up, the picture of confidence.