Healer's Choice

by Jory Strong

  Rebekka became aware of the stench of burning flesh. She thought back to the bodies in the Barrens on her way to the Fellowship, and the moment in the garden when Brother Caphriel had offered to change the nature of her gift. But at a cost.

  The Were ancestors were no different. Phaedra had admitted as much. There is always a price to be paid where they are concerned.

  Would standing before them lead to her becoming a healer who could make those Weres trapped between forms whole, as Annalise Wainwright prophesied? Or would it only take her farther away from being able to help them, just as going with Aryck would take her farther from Oakland?

  Or would it lead to nothing but her death?

  “Choices,” Rebekka murmured. At least she remained certain about one of them. She could do something about the threat she felt in the distance. She could prevent another slaughter while she came to a decision about Aryck and the rite.

  She wasn’t afraid of going alone. The Weres knew she was in their lands and Aryck’s scent would identify her. She was far more frightened of what she’d find and that it might be virulent and fast acting, delivering death to anyone with her before she could prevent it.

  Her hand dropped to the journal in her pocket. It was too valuable a thing to take with her as she sought out the plague. Levi already carried the coins she’d gotten from Aryck in the Barrens. The trick would be in giving him the book without rousing his suspicions. If he knew what she intended, he would accompany her.

  The answer came to her when she saw Caius and, nearby, Canino. She hurried to the Tiger, pulling the journal from her pocket as she did.

  Canino rumbled a greeting. She held the book out, asked, “Will you take this to Levi for me?”

  The Tiger got to his feet and gently took the journal between his teeth. His tail flicked in the direction of the cub like a lure as he trotted off.

  Caius bumped against Rebekka’s leg then bounded after Canino. Rebekka left, doing her best not to draw attention to herself as she headed toward the nearest place where eucalyptus trees gave way to denser forest.

  She expected to hear the pounding of footsteps or Levi’s voice yelling for her to stop. But somehow she made it, slipping among mistletoe-laden oak and startling a cardinal from its perch.

  Rebekka dared to look back. There was no sign of pursuit.

  Her hands lifted to the amulet. She took it off, holding it up, studying it.

  The black feather anchored on either side by red beads swirled and fluttered in a tiny breeze, shimmering in a spectrum of light and color. She hesitated, gathering her courage and her resolve.

  Don’t be a coward, she told herself. If she was to do this thing, then she needed to be fully committed.

  She hung it from a tree branch. As soon as her fingers left it, awareness came like a frigid arrow pointing her in the direction she must go.

  The first step away from the witches’ protection that had come to symbolize her father’s as well was the hardest. And the ones that followed weren’t much easier.

  She refused to look back, even when the drums began beating behind her.

  Twenty-six

  ARYCK knelt near the abandoned den area. The smell of hyena was strong, and in the concentration of urine marking their territory, so was the stench of disease.

  The irony of it being this pack wasn’t lost on him. Not so many days ago he’d stood on the rise above and tossed the bodies of Daivat’s victims to the hyenas.

  Today there were other victims. Pups and those already weakened by age, along with several of the males he’d thought were new to the pack.

  Disease had taken some of them. Violence had taken others.

  This was Jaguar land and the moment he’d stepped onto it he’d touched his mind to his father’s. With a thought, he let Koren see the scene before him.

  Though it was their land, neither protested when Chátima rose from his position next to Aryck, saying, “I’ll leave men behind to burn the bodies. The rest of us can spread out, tracking the individual pack members.”

  It was a good plan. And it quickly yielded results. Within minutes a Lion roared in discovery, bringing the hunters to the place where a human’s scent lay heavily around a tree.

  Aryck undressed and shifted to jaguar form. A leap, claws digging into bark, and he was climbing, following the scent upward into the concealing branches, then out onto a limb where the man had lain, masturbating and leaving semen on the leaves, making Aryck spit in distaste.

  Below him several of the Lions had changed as well, their lips pulled back and noses close to the ground to read the story they found there. Aryck backed up, retracing his movements until he could jump.

  He landed near his pants and shed his fur in favor of being able to speak. “A man watched from above.”

  One of the Lions also took a human form. “There are footprints in the dirt here. The impressions are deeper arriving than leaving. He carried food and left it for the hyenas, then waited to make sure they took the bait. The smell of hyena and lack of remains makes it impossible for me to be sure what he fed them. Perhaps it was a woman’s corpse, or possibly she handled the meat and cut herself while doing it. There was a trace of her scent, that’s all.”

  Aryck met the eyes of the Lion enforcer. “The humans either came to Were lands with the intent of killing us or they found something in the ruins they excavate that allowed them to do it.”

  “Agreed,” Chátima said. “Waiting them out is no longer an option.”

  Aryck conveyed what they’d discovered to his father. Koren said, It’s good you have already made overtures toward alliance. Nahuatl answered the drums of the Lion shaman and found Wolf, Bear, Hyena, and Coyote gathered in the shadowlands. We will meet tonight, shaman, alpha, and enforcer, each trio accompanied by fifteen armed warriors. With safe passage granted directly through each other’s lands, we can react quickly to the threat the humans pose.

  An image of the place accompanied Koren’s words, along with the position of the moon to fix the time. I will speak in favor of attacking immediately. The elders are in agreement. I think the other alphas will come to the meeting with the same intent.

  I will see you there, Aryck said, glad he had time to return to the Lion dwelling place and speak with Rebekka again before joining his father and the others.

  IT took Rebekka miles to figure it out. At first her own fears blocked her ability to do anything more than put one foot in front of the other. But slowly, when there seemed to be no change in the place harboring whatever carried the plague, she was able to think.

  She wondered then if she’d needed to come to Were lands to fully make the connection, to understand the amulet didn’t block the diseased from coming to her; it kept the part of her spirit that was her gift from seeking them out and drawing them to her.

  In a way, it was similar to a human shaman spirit-walking in the ghostlands or a Were visiting ancestors in the shadowlands. The difference was that before the urchin had appeared and restored her memories, unleashing the part of him he’d given her by the stream when she was a child, her soul traveled only as far as those she touched.

  What had taken her a while to understand was that regardless of what he’d done, it was still her spirit, and just as a shaman was able to choose where he or she went in the ghostlands, or whether they entered them at all, she could now do the same.

  It took conscious thought, a willful leashing of the part of her that fled, causing the cold to blossom in her chest, but she could do it. She didn’t need the amulet any longer, though having it would serve as a safeguard until control was second nature.

  But if she’d gained surety in one regard, in another, doubt had crept in. Was the urchin figure her father’s enemy, or his ally?

  She’d had to mentally block that line of inquiry time and time again. It would only spiral into an endless circle without beginning or end.

  A war was coming between supernaturals. Her role in preparing for it had been scripted by b
eings she couldn’t understand and whose realities she couldn’t fathom. In the end, she had only her heart to guide her, her sense of right and wrong.

  So what does it mean when it comes to a future with Aryck?

  An ache formed in her chest, so intense it equaled the icy pull drawing her inexorably to her destination. She was no closer to an answer to that question than she had been when she watched him leave.

  ARYCK hadn’t yet reached the eucalyptus grove marking the heart of Lion territory when he caught Rebekka’s scent along with that of both Tigers. He smelled Lions too, which was to be expected, but it was the odor of frequent travel and not a recent passing.

  Missing was Levi’s scent. And his brother Cyrin’s. They’d both been with Rebekka and the Tigers when she came from Jaguar lands to these.

  A tightness formed in Aryck’s chest. This was not a direct route from the Jaguar camp to the Lion dwelling places.

  He crouched. Inhaled deeply. Studied what he could see of the partial prints left in the thin layer of dust that would remain until the rains came.

  Rebekka traveled away from the Lion homes. And though he couldn’t be certain, not without examining more of the track, Caius and Canino followed rather than accompanied her.

  Their paw prints left impressions on top of hers, never the reverse. And still there was no sign of Levi.

  Aryck stood and turned toward Chátima. Despite what his eyes and nose told him, he asked, “Did you bring Rebekka through here?”

  There was suspicion in the enforcer’s expression, along with a measure of pity that had Aryck fighting to keep his lips from pulling back in a snarl.

  “No. This is not the path we traveled. You spoke to her about what would happen if we found evidence the humans were responsible for the hyenas’ sickness?”

  It was no less than what his father would ask in front of the others when they gathered. “Yes.”

  Chátima looked in the direction she’d gone. They both knew this valley ultimately fed into the one the Coyotes claimed.

  The Jaguar rose in Aryck, flexing its claws through human fingers. The man had no intention of letting anything happen to Rebekka. “I’m going after her. The meeting place is close to the encampment. I will collect Rebekka and bring her with me.”

  “When the vote is taken, it will be in favor of killing everyone in the encampment and letting their god sort them out. We can’t risk that even one of them will escape with whatever knowledge has allowed them to wage war on us with disease.”

  “I know.”

  The Lion enforcer sighed heavily. “Your female is a healer, soft-hearted by nature. And human. She can’t be blamed for wanting to prevent the deaths of the innocent. I will speak to the grand matriarch and then follow you to make sure Rebekka is stopped from warning the humans of our intentions. As you say, the meeting place is in the same direction.”

  Aryck spared only an instant to bare his teeth at the implied threat. Then he turned and ran, racing to get to Rebekka before harm came to her, his guilt building with each step at having handled their last parting so badly.

  Haven’t I already proven myself to the Jaguars? she’d asked, the words haunting him now.

  She had. He was the one who hadn’t yet proven himself, hadn’t been willing to seriously consider starting a pack of his own. There’d be no need for her to stand before the ancestors then.

  He still believed he had their blessing when it came to making her his mate. If she agreed but wanted further assurance, he would be the one to stand before them in a Petitioner’s Rite.

  DUSK descended in the valley Rebekka had entered a short while earlier. The air cooled with the growing darkness and she knew she would have to take shelter for the night soon.

  Ruins stretched out before her. Foliage-covered mounds of concrete forming an intricate, forbidding maze.

  A distant ridgeline looked familiar. She wasn’t sure whose territory she was in but she thought perhaps it was Wolf.

  Nocturnal animals had already begun stirring. They rustled as they moved around in burrows dug out of rubble and nests built in dense foliage. The sound of an owl hooting seemed like an ominous omen.

  She nearly lost her nerve, almost gave in to the temptation to save this task for the morning. The taste of disease now coated her tongue regardless of how often she tried to banish it by chewing on bay leaves or sipping from honeysuckle flowers. The knowledge she was close, very close, kept her moving forward.

  “Just a little bit farther,” she told herself, jumping when her words were punctuated by a gun firing close by.

  It was a single shot, a rifle or pistol rather than a machine gun. A few of the Wolves had carried them, though she hadn’t seen them among the Lions or Jaguars.

  Despite the sense of urgency pressing her, she stopped. Listened. Heard nothing unusual until a breeze brought the faint sound of bleating.

  Goats. Penned animals would explain why her destination seemed fixed.

  Was she near the encampment then? It was horrifying to think the Weres could be right about humans purposely letting disease loose.

  Indecision held her. Go forward or turn back?

  She’d seen no evidence of animal husbandry among the Weres. But what if it existed? What if plague had been unknowingly introduced to their flocks and herds?

  Just a little farther, she decided. Just far enough to know one way or the other, so she could either heal the sick or hide and wait for help to come.

  Aryck would come for her if he returned to the Lion pride homes and found her missing. Levi would say something to his grandmother when he realized she was gone.

  Rebekka moved forward cautiously. Once again the breeze brought the sound of goats.

  They bleated continuously. Sounds of agitation and distress.

  The taste of sickness coated her tongue more heavily. It slid down her throat until she bent over and retched.

  She forced herself forward. The rustling of animals hidden in the ruins grew louder.

  An involuntary cry escaped when a burrowing owl launched itself upward in front of her like a warning to stop.

  Her nerves stretched tauter. Just a little bit farther, she told herself again. Just until she reached the corner ahead.

  Thick, wild grapevines began to dominate. They formed curtains in what might once have been windows and trailed across the path, making it treacherous.

  As she drew near the corner she thought she caught the whiff of a campfire. She relaxed a tiny bit. The Jaguars cooked over fire pits. Surely any humans in the area would have eaten their meals earlier and doused their fires so they could take shelter.

  Rebekka reached the corner and discovered just how badly she erred.

  Men approached on another path, from the direction the earlier gunfire had come from.

  In a glance she took in the black-and-white-striped uniforms that work-gang convicts wore in Oakland.

  The deer carcass carried on a pole between two of them.

  The militiamen accompanying them.

  Before she could dart out of sight, a convict ranging ahead of the others noticed her. She turned and ran. Hoped they wouldn’t dare follow this close to full dark.

  A shout told her otherwise.

  Then racing footsteps.

  A rifle fired a moment later, sending a bullet crashing into the rubble to her right.

  She tripped on grapevines and fell. Scrambled to her feet but the delay had cost her.

  She managed another few yards before one of the men tackled her, driving her into the ground.

  Two others joined the first. Flipping her. Pinning her arms and legs. Tugging at her clothing. Rape on their minds and in their expressions.

  Out of the corner of her eye there was a flash of white. She fought to escape even harder when she realized it was Caius barreling toward her.

  Canino followed, and in an instant she was freed, though she didn’t dare rise to her feet. Machine gun bullets sprayed above and around her, shredding vines a
nd ricocheting off stone.

  The three convicts lay dead, killed by Tigers or the militiamen. She couldn’t tell without examining them, and didn’t care to. Her heart thundered and fear gripped her as she visually searched the ground near where Canino and Caius had disappeared into the mazelike ruins, desperate to see no evidence either of them had been hit.

  “Grab her,” the militiaman holding the machine gun said, his eyes and body making a continuous sweep, his finger never leaving the gun’s trigger. “She goes back with us. She needs to pay for the trouble we’re going to be in because of her.”

  “I like the way you think, Gregor,” the man carrying the rifle said, drawing close enough for Rebekka to recognize the Ivanov crest embroidered into his collar.

  She scrambled backward. Desperate hope flaring to life. If only she could escape and take the information back to The Iberá . . .

  He stepped between her and his companion, providing an instant of protection against the spray of machine gun bullets. When he jerked an amulet from beneath his shirt and glanced down to see if she was Were, Rebekka rolled to her feet and tried to dart away.

  She made it only a few steps before pain splintered through her head. Unconsciousness followed.

  Twenty-seven

  THE closer Aryck got to the encampment, the more he feared for Rebekka. What did she hope to accomplish by making this trip?

  Humans who would unleash the horrors she’d seen in Wolf and Lion territory wouldn’t be open to reason. She had to know that.

  Suspicion tried to invade his thoughts as it had many times since it became obvious she was heading directly to the encampment. How did she know the way?

  Aryck refused to contemplate she might betray the Weres. But the Lion enforcer who’d caught up and now easily paced him grew grimmer with each mile.