Shapeshifters (18 page)

W
HEN
E
GYPT WAS YOUNG
, and the first pyramids were being built with the sweat and blood of slavery, there lived a small civilization on the outskirts of society, led by a coven of thirteen men and women called the Dasi.

It is said that these thirteen were able to read the thoughts of mortals, and that they could bewitch any who looked upon them. When they danced their rituals together, they could summon the spirits of the dead, make the rain fall or cause illusions to rise from the sand.

Among their pantheon, they worshipped the dual powers Anhamirak and Ahnmik. Anhamirak granted life, light, love and all manner of beauty; her greatest gift to her people was free will. As all things must, she had an opposite. One prayed to Ahnmik for power, sleep and silent peace. He was not an evil god, but with power came force, and so while Anhamirak gave this world freedom and equality, Ahnmik's gifts included bondage and mastery.

Each side could not exist without the other, and so the speakers for this darker god stood as revered in the Dasi as Anhamirak's.
The twin powers were held in a precarious balance by the high priestess of the Dasi, Maeve.

As the story goes, a creature by the name of Leben appeared to Maeve. At first she thought he was a god, an incarnation of Anhamirak's son, Namid, and she bowed down to him. Then he ordered her coven to worship him alone—at which point Maeve realized that, for all his power, he was no god, for any true god would know that only chaos would follow if the balance was lost.

Knowing the danger he posed to her people if angered, but unwilling to surrender to his demands, Maeve seduced him, and in an attempt to win her favor, he gave her ageless beauty, and the second form of a viper with ivory scales. She insisted he do the same for all her people.

Leben gave the ebony scales and garnet eyes of a king cobra to Kiesha, high priestess of Anhamirak, and other graceful serpent forms to seven of her followers. The four whose worship fell to Ahnmik—Cjarsa, Araceli, Syfka and Servos—were given the majestic wings and deadly talons of falcons.

The magic Ahnmik had given the falcons, combined with Leben's gifts, was strong and dangerous, and soon they were driven from the clan for their reckless practice of it. Maeve's ivory-scaled kin were soon forced to follow, as the white vipers too fell to Ahnmik's lures and abandoned the balance they had once revered.

Reluctantly, Kiesha rose to power, and from her son—or so the story goes—the Cobriana line descended.

My own line. The line with garnet eyes and jet-black hair, which has led the serpents since the day Maeve fell to Ahnmik. We have ruled through famine, we have ruled through fortune, and for unknown generations, we have ruled through war.

Until now. I am the first of my line to rule through peace. These last few months with Danica have gone by so blissfully that I find myself doubting fate's sincerity.

Did Kiesha's kin feel this same queasy fear in the night, after Ahnmik's followers were driven away? Did those ancient serpents know their days were numbered by an enemy they had not yet even encountered?

According to avian myth, Queen Alasdair was given her hawk form after she prayed to the avians' sun god to lift her city from civil strife and poverty. She gathered her people and brought them peace and prosperity and turned a faltering city into a beautiful empire.

Avians and serpiente had never met before the day Kiesha was granted an audience with the new hawk queen. Neither had a reason to hate the other. Yet avian history books say Kiesha stabbed Alasdair in the back; ours say Alasdair's guards slaughtered the eight serpents in their beds. No one knows the truth anymore, only that the children of the slain retaliated swiftly, and years of bloodshed followed.

Ancient fears, ancient questions. Our war with the avians is over now. We do not know what hatred led to the murders of Kiesha and Alasdair, but I do know it is love that binds our realms together now. I thank the gods daily for the brilliant hawk who is my mate.

But older hatreds and ancient threats still remain. A missive reached us late last night: Syfka arrived at the Hawk's Keep yesterday, seeking Danica and me, and was told we were at the serpiente palace. The falcon is due to arrive here any time today.

During the war, the falcons supplied the avians with poison specifically designed to kill Kiesha's serpent kin—my people. Before the war, the falcons nearly destroyed the Dasi's civilization in their search for power and were exiled as a result.

The war is over.

What now?

Zane Cobriana
Diente

A
FLICKER OF SHADOW AGAINST THE SUN
made everyone in the serpiente market pause in their business and look to the sky. The fluttering of wings and the sight of a diving sparrow chilled me.

Erica Silvermead, the sparrow who now shifted into her human form in front of me, had been guarding the front door of the palace. Her presence here meant that our dangerous visitor had arrived.

Politely excusing myself from the merchant I had been speaking with, I followed Erica into the palace.

Once we were alone, she confirmed my assumption. “Syfka, speaker for Empress Cjarsa, is at the gate. She has requested an audience with you and your pair bond.”

I would have liked nothing more than to order the guard and the Royal Flight to ban Syfka from our lands, but insulting the falcons would be suicide. While the serpiente retained only ancient dances and half-remembered stories from the days of Maeve's coven, the falcons' powers were still strong. Their royal house supposedly consisted of the four
falcons who had once practiced among the Dasi, kept alive by a combination of Ahnmik's and Leben's magics.

If the legend was true, Syfka was one of those four and, as such, a creature whose might was too great to fathom. Even if it was false, Syfka represented an empire we could not risk slighting.

I nodded reluctantly, taking a detour to find my mate.

We caught Danica just as she was leaving the synkal, where her lessons were held. She was languid from exhaustion, but she smiled upon seeing me, and my heart warmed just from the sight of her golden hawk eyes lighting up. Then she saw my worried gaze, and her expression suddenly mirrored my own.

“Syfka is here?” she asked.

“At the gate.”

Danica shuddered, but joined Erica and me on our hasty walk toward the entryway. “Syfka was never an enemy of my people during the war, but she made it clear that falcons held no respect for avians no matter how similar our second forms may seem. Whatever she is here for now, I suggest we deal with it quickly.”

“We're in agreement, then.”

Ailbhe, the head of the palace guard, was waiting with our visitor by the doorway. The white viper stood at strict attention, tension wavering in the air around his silent form, his gaze fixed not quite on the falcon, but never moving far from her.

Syfka radiated an aura of heat that rivaled even Danica's constant warmth. Her hair was pale gold, and in the front it faded to silver; her eyes were crystalline blue, set in milk-pale skin. Wings rose from her shoulders and cascaded down her
back, with the golden undersides and brown, gray and black markings of an aplomado falcon.

She was stunning, and like all falcons, she had a magnetic air that could draw mortals to her like moths to fire—ultimately to meet with the same demise, if they dared offend her. Right now she was standing formally with her left hand clasping her right wrist behind her back. It was the respectful pose of a soldier, but Syfka's expression told me clearly that the respect was not for me.

As her eyes met mine, it was easy to believe this creature was as ancient as myth. She gave a nod that might have served as a bow, if it had been accompanied by anything other than obvious disdain. “Zane Cobriana, Danica Shardae, I appreciate that you are prompt. I am looking for one of our people, who I have reason to believe is in this area.”

“A falcon?” I could not help frowning. “Not among the serpiente. Danica?”

My mate's expression remained calm, though I knew her well enough to feel her agitation and anxiety building. “You are the only falcon who has visited our lands in the last decade,” she answered.

Syfka looked amused. “The falcon could have altered its form, its coloring,” she explained, her voice patient, as if she was speaking to a young child. “I hesitate even to offer a gender, as that could feasibly be hidden, too. Unless you'd seen the person's falcon form, there would be no way to know.”

“Then why ask us?” I replied, irritated by her patronizing tone only barely more than by her request. I struggled to keep my voice from revealing my annoyance. “If there's no way for us to tell whether someone is a falcon, how can we help you search?”

Syfka nodded toward Danica. “Though it seemed unlikely, I thought the criminal might have asked for asylum from the Tuuli Thea, since some on the island know of our past alliance with the avian people.”

“May I ask what he or she has done?” Danica inquired.

“That is not your concern.” Syfka's words were brisk.

I might have argued, had I thought the falcon was someone I knew, but I doubted that was the case. Someone trying to hide was unlikely to befriend the king of the land.

Danica also held back any protests she had. If we discovered the so-called criminal, we might dispute Syfka's words, but for now we might as well work with her.

Danica echoed my thoughts. “So many people pass through the court every day that a newcomer could remain unnoticed for some time unless he introduced himself to the Tuuli Thea. I can, however, see if my guards have noticed anything unusual.”

“I will speak with the serpiente,” I added. “If there are any newcomers in these lands, the dancers at least will know of them.” While the Cobriana were the heart of the serpiente, the dancers were its blood; nothing went on in the royal house, the market or the most distant serpiente lands that the dancers did not know about eventually.

Syfka nodded curtly. “See that you do. I want this done quickly, so I can leave this
equakeiel.
” The last word was in the old Dasi language, spoken in falcon lands, of which I knew a little. Syfka's description of our lands was not flattering.

“If you are so displeased to be here,” I suggested delicately, “you are welcome to leave and let us conduct this search on our own.”

“You would never recognize a hidden falcon without my assistance. Your kind is as blind to Ahnmik's magic as a
worm is to the sun.” I heard her add under her breath, “You notice it only when it scalds you.”

Abruptly she returned to falcon form and took to the sky.

I will return shortly to see to your progress.

The words whispered through my mind like a line of lyrics heard even after a song has ended. I had no doubt they came from Syfka, and the sense of her even so briefly inside my mind left an unpleasant chill.

Beside me, Danica went pale, her body swaying. I moved closer, and she caught my arm, drawing in a slow breath as she closed her eyes.

“Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” she answered. “I was just a little dizzy for a moment.” Danica shook her head as if to clear it. “I spent most of this morning practicing with A'isha; perhaps I over-taxed myself.”

I glanced from Danica to her guard; Erica looked as worried as I felt. Then again, the sparrow's whole frame had already been taut as a wire. Facing a falcon, against whom all her fighting prowess would not let her win, had left her visibly tense.

Syfka had asked for our help, even though she had dismissed our ability to give any. Harming us now would be sabotaging herself. Wouldn't it?

Still, we couldn't be too careful. “I think we should try to get a better sense of what Syfka is capable of before she returns—and, if possible, learn something about her criminal, or at least get an idea of how and where he or she might be hiding,” I said.

Danica nodded, but admitted, “Falcon contempt for outsiders is legendary. Even though we had an agreement with them during the war, we were never in a position to
demand much in the way of concrete information. They certainly didn't speak of criminals or illusion spells.” Her color had returned somewhat, and her voice was again confident. Only fatigue, I hoped. “Don't the falcons and the serpiente share origins?”

“Technically,” I said, reluctant to revisit past grief, “but we have had almost no contact since Maeve's coven split … thousands of years ago. Most of the records we do have are either embedded in myth, or so old that they are almost impossible to read even if one knows the language.”

“Almost no contact?” Danica asked gently.

“My oldest brother, Anjay, was heir before I …” I took a breath, trying to clear too many memories from my mind. “I don't know how he encountered Syfka, but she brought him to Ahnmik and he was allowed an audience with their Empress, so he could petition for her aid in the war.”

Danica knew as well as I did that the falcons had given my kind no help. “What happened?”

“I don't know …. He never had a chance to tell us.”

The moment Anjay had returned to our lands, he had been told about the death of our sister Sisal—the horrible, senseless slaughter of mother and child that had sent him in a fury to the Keep.

His body had never been recovered.

I did not tell Danica the rest of that story. Anjay had gone to avenge our sister's death by killing Danica's mother, Tuuli Thea at the time. I did not want to know whether he had succeeded in harming any of the avian people before he died. I did not want to know whether one of the Royal Flight—Andreios, perhaps—had ended Anjay's life. It was for the best that Anjay had failed, but I had still lost a brother that day four years ago.

When I had arrived home and learned of this terrible series of events, I had immediately set out for the Hawk's Keep. I had started that ride in a fog of denial, refusing to acknowledge that my brother was dead, refusing to believe that the burden of the royal seat had fallen to me so suddenly at the age of sixteen. The hours had turned my thoughts from disbelief to mad fury. I had scaled the walls of the Hawk's Keep, intent on murder, and stumbled into the room of Danica Shardae.

And there, I think I fell in love. As I beheld the avian princess sleeping so innocently, her cheek marked by a new cut—probably by one of my own people's blades—my hatred died, leaving only a desperate desire for peace in its wake. When the mad suggestion was made last winter that taking the enemy queen as my mate could end the war, it had almost seemed like fate. It had not been easy to bridge the gaps between us, but together we had managed.

Fate had given me many gifts. Danica Shardae was the one for which I would forever be most grateful.

Erica drew me from my musing as she offered tentatively, “The scholar Valene studied in falcon lands once. I lost touch with her after I joined the Royal Flight, but someone might know her whereabouts.”

Excellent.
“Danica?”

“Yes? Oh … sorry,” she answered, smiling tiredly. “I seem to be a bit useless today. I haven't heard from Valene in years, but Andreios would probably be able to find her.”

“You're dancing tonight, aren't you?” I asked. Though Danica had performed some simple improvisational dances at Namir-da eight months before, I had never been allowed to watch her practice with A'isha, leader of the dancers' guild and the only one daring enough to teach the serpiente art to
an avian queen. That night was to be Danica's first performance of the more complex, traditional dances. Even if fatigue was her only ailment, that could stop her from taking the stage.

Danica nodded. “The thought has me so nervous I feel ill, even if the performance is only for A'isha, you and a few of the other dancers who have practiced with me,” she confided.

“Why don't you get some rest? I can track down Andreios and ask him about Valene. If I see A'isha, I'll also find out whether her guild knows anything about a hidden falcon.”

“Perhaps that's a good idea.”

Without being told, Erica stayed beside her queen. I hoped this spell was truly a combination of nerves and fatigue, but I could not help the sense of unease gnawing at my mind.

 

I asked two people before I believed that Andreios was with A'isha in the synkal—where the reserved leader of the Royal Flight apparently spent most of his free time in serpiente lands. Despite the warning, the scene on the dais was a shock.

A'isha and Rei were facing each other with their hands touching, poised to begin one of the simpler dances. I could barely hear the faint melody A'isha was singing, a wordless tune meant to imitate the flute that would normally play.

The two moved into the dance seamlessly enough to suggest weeks of practice—the last thing I would expect of the crow. I wondered if Danica knew that her teacher had found two students instead of one.

I closed the synkal door loudly behind me, as if I had just entered. Both dancers jumped and turned to face me.

A'isha recovered first. The viper slithered down from the synkal dais, the movement sliding the material of her dress enough that one of her legs was bared to the thigh for a moment.

Rei wasn't watching the show, which was obviously put on for his benefit. He descended the stairs with a haughty expression that dared me to comment.

I knew better than to bait him now. If I even implied that I had been watching, A'isha would probably never get the conservative crow onto her stage again.

Why she had made the effort to teach him in the first place was a mystery to me. A'isha was notoriously picky in her choice of students, and although I respected Andreios, he could not possibly share Danica's passion for dance.

Still, I was thankful that circumstances had put together the two people I sought.

“Rei, A'isha, we've just had a visit from Syfka.”

All traces of defiance disappeared instantly from Rei's face. “What does she want?”

“She's looking for a falcon; she didn't say his name, or what he had done, only that he was a criminal. You wouldn't happen to know of any falcons in the avian court, would you?”

Rei cleared his throat, obviously suppressing a laugh. “The falcons are fastidiously purebred. Their kind doesn't mix with ours, no matter how similar we may seem.”

A'isha responded in the same way. “I can't imagine any creature with wings masquerading as one without, though I was once told that the falcons act more like serpents in their
free time than like avian ladies and gentlemen.” She shook her head. “I've known most of my dancers since they were infants. No one could hide among them without being noticed. I can ask if anyone has heard anything in the market, though.”