Shapeshifters (24 page)

W
HEN
I
WOKE,
I found myself wondering whether my head had exploded—or whether perhaps that would be preferable. I rolled onto my stomach and had to grip the edge of the bed until I could convince the furniture to stay still.

It couldn't have been poison. Only one poison existed that affected a cobra that strongly, and if it was mixed strongly enough to knock one out, it was mixed strongly enough to kill.

Was it something Erica had done?

I started to push myself up and suddenly felt hands on my arms. I heard a voice saying, “Don't try to sit up yet.”

Warm hands, avian hands. Doctor's voice. Were we in the Keep? We must be. How had I gotten there?

I sat up anyway. The doctor, an avian I didn't know, pulled back from me a little, but offered me water, which I drank greedily.

My senses were returning slowly. Every muscle ached, but seemed to work. I managed to stand when I tried, though I had to grip the bedpost to keep from falling.

The doctor implored again, “Please, you aren't well.”

My memories returned, and I demanded, “Where's Danica?” My voice was hoarse, my throat as dry as ash.

The doctor's hesitation made me start to push past her to the door despite the way the world rocked and swayed around me.

The avian finally started talking. “She is still unconscious.”

There was more worry in her voice than I cared for. “What's wrong?”

“Her … temperature is rising,” the woman said hesitantly. “Betsy is worried the child was—hurt.”

No.

I shouldered my way past the doctor and down the hall. We were on the Tuuli Thea's floor, and there was shouting coming from outside Danica's door. “Let me see her!”

Erica. The sparrow's voice was strained as she argued with four members of the Royal Flight.

“She's not to be disturbed,” the guard answered. I didn't know these four well, and Rei wasn't with them.

“What is going on here?” I demanded.

I saw the guards' hands fall to the handles of their weapons, but none were drawn.

Erica spun around to face me. “Please, Zane, you have to let me see her—”

“Explain why and I'll consider it,” I answered. “I'm still trying to figure out what you did to
me.
That doesn't make me anxious to let you near Danica.”

Her gaze flickered from the guards, to me, to the door they were guarding, and back to me again.

Then I felt a rush of power, and the backlash of it as it struck the four guards, sending them falling unconscious to
the floor. “I can knock you out, too,” Erica said, “or you can let me go to my queen and
help
her.”

Falcon.

I knew it, and I had a moment of indecision. Did I trust her?

Did I have a choice?

“Go. I'll be beside you.”

Betsy was asleep in the chair next to Danica's bed. The way she was slumped implied that she had fallen asleep as abruptly as the guards outside—probably at the same time. It reinforced my desire never to be on the opposite side of a fight from Erica.

Danica's skin was even hotter than usual, and chalky. It was bruised and scraped from her tumble. Worse was the blood. I smelled it before I saw it, and I had to lean against the door frame, dizzy with fear.

I knew what this blood meant: Even if Danica lived, the life inside her was not going to.

I heard Erica whisper, “Milady.”

“Can you do anything?”

“I think so. Give me space.”

I retreated to the sitting room, leaving my mate with the only person who could help her—a falcon.

An hour passed as slowly as an eon before Erica emerged, faint and shaking with exhaustion. She barely made it to a chair before she collapsed.

“She'll be fine,” she breathed.

“And the child?” I demanded. I didn't know what even falcon magic could do to heal that kind of damage.

Erica looked up. Her smile trembled at the edges, but she said again, “She'll be fine.”

I panicked for a moment, thinking she was consoling me
by assuring me again that Danica would be fine, but then I understood. “My daughter?” I asked hopefully.

She nodded. “Your daughter. Thank the sky, she'll be fine. They'll both be fine.”

“What did you do?”

Erica frowned a little. “I don't know how I can explain it. I … put the hurt pieces together again.” She bit her lip, and a little fear was in her eyes as she said, “Your daughter will be fine, but falcon magic is … not always the best for a mother. It won't hurt Danica, but this child will be the only one. I'm so sorry.”

When the words hit me, I felt too numb to know how to respond to them. Only one child meant only one heir. It meant that if this one was raised in the Keep, no child of mine would ever be Diente. It meant that there was only one chance. Yet I said to Erica, “Would she have lived without your help?”

Erica shook her head. “Danica might have, but not the child.”

“Then don't apologize.” Death was by far a worse separation than the distance between the Hawk's Keep and the serpiente palace. “Don't apologize for saving my daughter's life. Thank you.”

“How do
you
feel?” Erica asked.

I paused to catalog my injuries. “Like I fell off the Keep. What did you do to me?”

“Do you know the concept of force-changing?” Erica asked. When I shook my head, she explained, “It's not a commonly used tactic even among my kind, because it leaves a mark on the user's magic, but when necessary, it can be used for fighting, healing or hiding.” Perhaps seeing the confusion
on my face, she went on, “Normally you change instinctively, taking with you any injuries you have, and any poison. There was poison on the blade that cut you. If it had spread through your blood, it would have killed you. I forced you to change before it could do much harm, but instead of letting the poison enter your second form, I brought it into myself.
Am'haj
was designed by falcons to harm serpents; it's harmless to my kind.”

I would never grasp the mechanics of falcon magic, but death was something I understood very well and was grateful to avoid for now. “Thank you again.” Curious, I asked, “Hiding?”

Again the sparrow—falcon, I corrected myself—looked nervous. “Like I said, when you reach that deeply into someone else's magic, it leaves a mark. The power remembers that which it touched. If it remembers enough …” She held up a hand, and for a few moments black snakeskin shimmered across the surface. “That is as much as I can replicate of your second form.”

“Is that how you became Erica?”

She nodded. “The Silvermead family took me in when I fled the island. Valene's niece and I were very close for a while, but then Erica was hurt. I tried to save her, like I did you, but she was too injured, I was too slow.” She shook her head. “It was too late. I barely needed to brush your power to take the poison back, but I immersed myself in Erica's, trying to heal her. When she died, the magic clung to me, so when I opened my eyes … they were Erica's.

“Valene knew what had happened. She let me stay, as Erica, so I could hide from the Empress but still live as a free woman. Later I got restless and joined the Royal Flight.”

“And you told Rei who you were?”

“He is my commander,” she answered. “I told him, and let him decide whether to accept me. I'm as loyal as any member of the flight, sir. You know that.”

I knew it, but what would it change? Valene had said one couldn't lie to a falcon. Rei had played on Syfka's arrogance to evade the truth, but I did not know whether I could do the same.

“When Syfka speaks to me again, I can try to—”

Erica was shaking her head. “When Syfka speaks to you again, tell her who I am. She's strong; I don't know how she didn't recognize me already, except that I have not used my magic in years. She'll see it on me now even if you don't tell her, and if she thinks you're protecting me, it will put you and my Tuuli Thea in danger. And I won't allow that.”

“What will happen to you?”

“For fleeing the city, and stealing a sparrow form?” Erica answered. “I don't know.”

I had a feeling she
did
know. The fear in her eyes said more than her words. But if she didn't want to tell me, I wouldn't force her.

Maybe I didn't want to know.

Before we could speak again, the door opened.

Danica wasn't just “fine.” Her cheeks were rosy again, and she stood as if she wasn't the least bit tired. Even the minor cuts and bruises I had seen were gone. She was wearing a simple cotton shift that looked as if it had been pulled on hastily, and the only signs of that morning's disaster were the small bits of pine needles and leaves still tangled in her hair.

She hurried to my side, asking, “Zane, are you all right?”

Her hand fell to my arm, and as I looked at it, I realized I was still wearing my snakeskin—along with the rest of my
half form. No wonder the doctor and the Royal Flight had been hesitant around me.

I let the snakeskin recede, as well as the other less-human attributes of my fighting form, and saw Danica smile a little.

“I'm … fine.” The wound on my arm was minor, especially considering there had been enough poison on the blade to end my life. “How are you?”

Danica hesitated, confusion on her face. “Strikingly well, considering I recall falling off a horse.”

I nodded at Erica. “You can thank your guard.”

“Erica?”

“Our resident falcon,” I clarified.

Danica leaned back against the wall. “Oh dear.”

“I'll turn myself over to Syfka,” Erica said. “I won't cause trouble.”

Danica's eyes widened. “I'm not letting her take you.”

“If I may be blunt, milady, I believe this is up to me,” Erica argued. “I've sworn my life for yours. I won't ask you to protect me, not when it would only get you killed.”

Danica nodded reluctantly. This was Erica's decision, and not one that either of us would be able to change.

“Who
was
trying to get me killed?” she asked finally.

“We don't know yet,” Erica answered. “Your guards took down five of them, and dragged the sixth one here. They are waiting with her downstairs.”

“We'll speak to her now,” Danica decided before I could. I wanted a moment alone with her to tell her what Erica had said about our daughter, but I understood the need to solve this problem first.

Before we could turn to go, Erica suggested, “The doctors ordered your mother from the sick room, but I am sure she will want to know that you are—recovered.”

I heard Erica hesitate before the last word, as she realized that Danica did not yet know the extent of her injuries. She looked at me, and I nodded; I would tell Danica later.

“If you will speak to Nacola and assure her that Danica is safe, we can deal with our would-be assassin.”

Erica nodded.

“One last question?” Danica asked the falcon.

“Anything you want to know.”

“If you aren't Erica Silvermead … what is your name?”

“La'Kel'jaes'oisna'wimheah'ona'saniet,”
she answered quickly, with tired pride. Then she winced and corrected herself. “Or, I used to be. None of those titles are mine anymore … so I guess it's just Kel now.”

“Thank you, Kel.”

Kel left us, and I turned to my mate, catching her hand and drawing her toward me. Again the knowledge that I had almost lost her washed over me.

I would have liked to put off telling her, but I knew this might be the last chance I would have to be alone with Danica before her mother and the rest of the avian court descended. For long moments I struggled to form the words, and I watched as the worry in her eyes turned to fear.

Her hand pressed to her stomach. “The child. Kel didn't mention—”

“The child is fine,” I assured her quickly, cursing myself for letting that thought spring into her mind. “Kel says it will be a girl.”

Danica sighed with relief. “Then, what …?”

“You were very hurt,” I explained. “As was our daughter. Kel saved both your lives … but the magic she used makes it unlikely that you will be able to carry another child.”
Unlikely.
I used that word to try to soften the blow, but Kel
had been honest with me. I needed to be honest with Danica. “Not just unlikely. Impossible.”

Danica closed her eyes and drew a breath, leaning against me. “This daughter was infinitely precious yesterday,” she finally said, “and she is just as precious now that she will be an only child. As for her future …” She swallowed hard. “I want to talk to the monster who tried to prevent her from having one.”

W
ITH
D
ANICA BESIDE ME,
I descended the stairs to the Keep's ground-level courtyard, bracing myself for whatever might await me. I had dealt with traitors before. Rarely were motives clear. Rarely was justice easy.

I stopped in my tracks when I saw the woman crumpled on the ground between two members of the Royal Flight.

She could not have looked further from the part of murderess. She was avian, but despite the breed's famous stoicism, the face she lifted when she heard us approach was streaked with tears.

“Milady Tuuli Thea, thank the sky you're all right,” she cried, lips trembling as she spoke. “Oh, thank the fates, thank the wind, you're alive. And, my lord, I saw you fall; it's a miracle ….”

This litany of thanks continued for a while longer, as Danica and I looked at each other and then at the guards. The spark of fury in Danica's gaze had turned to wary confusion.

“She fought all the way back here, sir,” one of the guards
explained. “Then the instant we entered the Keep, she stopped. We explained the charges to her, and she started this. We've been careful to keep her away from the court; we didn't think you would want rumors to start before you could even speak to her.”

“I never meant—” The woman cut off her protest. “I complained about the child—everyone has been—but I never meant to hurt it. I'm loyal to my Tuuli Thea, to her alistair; I swear it. But … she suggested it, how easy it would be, and I don't know how it sounded so reasonable—”

“She?” My tone was sharp, and the woman winced. I found it difficult to feel sorry for her, though I was beginning to form a bitter suspicion about the true culprit.

“I don't know her name,” the frightened avian replied. “Either way, my hands held the bow, and I know I deserve any punishment you—”

“We'll deal with that later.” Suspicion was boiling into hatred, and I had no patience for pleas and rambling. “First tell me about the woman who spoke to you.”

“None of us knew her really, sir,” she replied. “She was tall and fair, avian, foreign …. She suggested how easy the plan could be, and after she left we continued to talk and somehow it made sense—”

I didn't need to know more. I nodded at the guards, instructing them, “Take her someplace … safe. I don't think she's entirely at fault here. Then find Kel. She … went to speak with Nacola Shardae.” At their looks of confusion, I clarified, “Erica. Tell her I need to speak to her.”

Danica touched the back of my hand as the guards moved to obey. “Zane?”

“Yes?” I turned to her, again feeling a rush of amazement and gratitude for her miraculous recovery. Thanks to Erica.

And fury for her near-death, thanks to another falcon.

“Why Kel?”

“Does that woman seem like someone who maliciously planned to attack her king and pregnant queen?” I asked. My voice was calm, frosty calm—shocked calm. Too much was becoming clear, and all of it was combining to form a shell of ice on my mind. “I suspect Syfka was her mysterious avian co-conspirator, and Kel is the only person I know in these lands who might be able to confirm that.”

“Zane, she admitted it herself; she held the bow,” Danica argued. “Syfka wasn't even there.”

Was I overestimating the falcon's ability? I didn't know how far her magic could stretch. If Erica could shape flesh and blood to draw a deadly poison from me and save my queen's and child's lives, not to mention knock out trained soldiers without lifting a finger, how much more might a royal falcon be capable of?

Ahnmik had once been worshipped by those seeking power. Could a falcon of Syfka's strength control others to the point of making them think that something they would never have
considered
seemed reasonable?

Did that make any less sense than what I had just seen? Perhaps anyone facing a traitor's death might weep, but terror had not been on that woman's face. She had worn the mask of guilt, grief and gratitude when she saw her Tuuli Thea alive and well. She had made no excuses, only tried to explain something she hardly seemed to understand. If she was lying, the ruse was pointless; as Danica had said, she had admitted her guilt.

I shook my head. “At this point, I'm not willing to say whether Syfka could or couldn't have somehow controlled the six who attacked us … but even if she didn't give them
the idea, I'm willing to bet she messed with their minds a little. The whole group needed indifference to their own lives and callousness toward our child's life to do what they did, and the woman we just spoke to had none of that.”

Syfka, I suspected, was more than capable of planning this crime. She had made clear her thoughts about our efforts toward peace, and I believed what Valene had said: Syfka would spare no concern for an avian-serpiente child.

Shortly the guard I had sent returned with Kel. The falcon still looked pale and exhausted, but she had recovered enough of her poise that she did not seem like death walking. Andreios accompanied her. His earlier absence was explained by a bandage on his shoulder; the skin surrounding it had the dark blush caused by poison. He was lucky it hadn't been stronger.

“You want to know about Syfka's relation to our attackers,” Kel predicted before Danica or I had a chance to speak. She shrugged and added, “I assume? After all, I'm the only falcon expert you have on hand, and there was falcon magic all over that group.” She frowned a little. “I should have reported that earlier. I'm sorry.”

I shook my head, dismissing the apology. “You had other things on your mind. What can you tell us?”

“I don't know the exact Drawing—spell,” she clarified. “The royals work their magic differently than the lower ranks. But that alone means it had to be Syfka's—unless someone else in the royal house has decided to visit, which I doubt. The last time any of the other three left was—” She broke off, averting her eyes before she said softly, “Back when Alasdair and Kiesha still lived.”

Before the avian-serpiente war, then, before a time remembered by any living creature aside from the royal falcons.

“Rationally,” Danica pressed, “could she have influenced six of our people so they would be willing to attack us?”

“It would be nearly impossible to influence someone who never had the thought. You needn't worry about Andreios turning against you, for example, no matter what Syfka tried. But if they had considered the act, it wouldn't be too difficult to remove whatever moral or practical inhibitions were stopping them.”

“So she could make them bolder, but only if they might have done it anyway?” I asked.

Kel shook her head. “If I took away your love for your mate, your respect for life, your fear for your own life, and your desire for peace, maybe you would kill Nacola Shardae. Not because you would ever rationally do it, but because you would have no reason not to when she next baited you.”

I frowned. “So you're saying these six … were essentially innocent?” said Danica.

Kel nodded. “By falcon law they would be guilty—guilty of succumbing to another's magic if nothing else, and beyond that, guilty of disapproving of the actions of their royal house. But by your laws, they're innocent.”

“And five of them are dead now,” Danica sighed.

Every one of us was thinking the same thing, but Kel was the first with the courage to say, “We need to give Syfka what she is looking for, and send her away from these lands. If I had imagined for a moment that she would go this far to find me, I would have—”

Rei interrupted. “You can't be the one she's looking for.”

Kel turned toward him, eyes wide. “Is there someone else you know of …” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Selfish, idiot hopes.”

“You can't be important enough to—”

“Yes, I am,” Kel answered bitterly. She took a deep breath and said to me, “You should know. The Empress Cjarsa and her heir, Araceli, command a group known as the Mercy. Before I fled, I was part of that group—specifically, one of Empress Cjarsa's four personal guards. The only people who outranked us were the four members of the royal house. I, along with my working partner and one of Araceli's guards, discovered something the Empress wanted to be kept secret. Araceli wanted me executed just for knowing, but Cjarsa protected me.”

She looked away and took a deep breath before she continued her story.

“The Mercy works in pairs. My working partner was like a very close, dear sister. We had known each other since we were seven. She decided that the rest of the Empress's people should know ….” She shook her head. “The Empress called it treason. When one of the Mercy falters, her partner delivers the punishment. I refused to bring her in to the Empress. I fled so I would not have to torture to death the woman I cherished most in the world.”

Kel continued, “In the Empress's eyes, I am the worst kind of traitor. She had given me her trust and her protection, and I betrayed her to protect someone who had turned against her.”

“You can't be the one she's looking for, believe me,” Rei implored. “You said so yourself, the Mercy deals with the Mercy's faults. The Empress would not have sent Syfka for you. Turning yourself in would be useless.”

As I watched the argument progress, rising in emotion on each side, I could not help feeling Rei's desperation.

Kel could have run when Syfka first appeared. She could have left Danica to die, and stayed hidden. Torture and
death—that was what she once had fled. That was what she was willing to turn herself over to now—and I didn't know of any way to help her. I could not protect her at the expense of the safety of my people, my queen and my child.

Kel explained, “My partner—the one who would have been sent to bring me home—is only a step away from death, bound by her own magic in a madness that Cjarsa's wrath forced her into. Even if she was not, do you think they would send any of the Mercy for me, knowing that I left when I refused to turn in another member?”

Rei took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure, and then said very clearly, “If Syfka tries to take you, I will fight her.”

Danica began to raise her voice in protest, but Kel was faster. “She'll kill you!” the falcon nearly shouted. “And then she will take me anyway.”

“I am your commander,” Rei pointed out. “I'm sworn to defend you.”

“Not from my own people,” Kel argued. “Not when you can't win. You are sworn to defend first your Tuuli Thea and her alistair—and you
cannot
do that if you are dead.”

The argument was interrupted as Gerard, one of the Royal Flight who normally stayed in the Keep as part of Nacola's personal guard, landed among us. “Sir, Syfka is here. She is demanding her falcon.”

Kel took a breath and looked at Rei with a cool, sad gaze. “Don't fight for me.” Then she knelt, taking Danica's hand. “You are my queen, and I have been honored to serve you. If that makes me a traitor in the Empress's eyes … I will accept that charge and trust myself to her mercy.”