It all made sense now, though it didn’t make things any less confusing or nerve-wracking. That was what Dazi had been hiding all this time. Mateo thought Dazi was afraid for him and what the shamans might say, but really he knew he was doomed to exile. Why didn’t he tell me? Was he ever thinking entirely of me, or did he only want me to meet the chief so he could have a chance to redeem himself? No one had ever betrayed him, not even Alejo. This struck him deep in his human heart. The jaguar awoke displeased.
Feeling somewhat awkward, yet flooded with bestial confidence, Mateo stripped as his body changed. He didn’t want to think. His human mind was nothing but emotional chatter. His jaguar mind was calmer, resolute. Avoid the bear. Dazi is afraid. Be still and quiet and the danger will pass. Mateo sat back on his haunches with his head high, ready for inspection.
Chief Werama stepped out from behind his desk. He peered into Mateo’s face. “Your eyes didn’t change at all,” he remarked. “Interesting.”
My grandfather may have the same to say about you, if you two ever meet.
“Can you understand me?” the chief asked.
Mateo chuffed.
“I take it you cannot use human speech in this form?”
Mateo chuffed and growled.
“Very interesting.” Chief Werama sat on his desk, surveying the jaguar before him. Though he kept a calm façade, Mateo could smell his wariness. Dazi was barely hiding his own anxiety. His scent was sour with sweat.
Three nervous predatory animals gathered in a small room together, each one scared of the others. Terrific.
“Tell me, Dazitam,” the chief said. “What were your intentions when you told him about us? Tommo would make it sound as though you were glad to break our laws. He is young and assumptive, but he claims you were…well, in his own words you were literally chasing tail. I take it that means he thought your judgment was clouded by lust.”
Dazi was trembling. Mateo could always tell when his prey was trembling, but this was different. Dazi clenched his fists and bit his lip. Tell him, Dazi. Tell him I’m the one who came on to you first. Don’t tell him exactly how I did it, but make him understand that I’m the one who wanted to be more than friends. Bitterly he added to himself, Though if you really considered us friends you would have told me you were facing such a severe punishment instead of keeping secrets from me and leading me to believe I was the only one in danger. And even then you only admitted that because of Kuhma.
“Chief Werama,” Dazi said, his voice determined yet quavering, “I admit, I have gone against the law. At first, I only wanted to hear about him, but in my heart I knew I could trust him, so I traded my tale for his. After spending these few days with him, I think I understand why I felt this way.” He took a deep breath, swallowed, and said, “I wish to take Mateo as my husband.”
You fucking WHAT?! Now even the jaguar was angry. Was I going to get a say in this? Was this the big secret you’ve been keeping? Have you been stringing me along this whole time and that kiss was some binding tradition I didn’t know about? Mateo crouched and hissed.
“I don’t think he agrees with that idea,” Chief Werama commented casually.
Mateo wanted to return to his human form and verbally confront Dazi for lying to him and springing this on him without warning, but he couldn’t focus. The frustration at Dazi combined with his residual discomfort around the judgmental bear clouded his mind with enough adrenaline that he was stuck in fight-or-flight mode. Given that he was outnumbered two predators to one, he flung himself out the door, past the deer girl, and didn’t stop running until he couldn’t hear Dazi calling his name anymore.
* * * *
Dazi wanted to scream. He wanted to scream apologies at Mateo and beg him to come back, he wanted to scream at his tribe for making the stupid laws that forced him into this, but mostly he wanted to scream wordlessly at himself for ruining everything. Instead he crumpled against the doorframe, taking deep calming breaths that weren’t working as well as he’d hoped.
Chief Werama came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “You have ten minutes to find him yourself before I send hunters. You know he can’t run around out there like that without ramifications.”
“I know.” Dazi took slow steps down the hall, thinking about how to approach this. Ten minutes wasn’t a long time, and in jaguar form Mateo could run faster than Dazi could follow on foot. I could track him as a mountain lion, but I’d need to be human when I speak to him, so I’d have to bring my clothes—
“Shit!” Dazi quickly turned and dashed back into Chief Werama’s office. “I need to bring him his clothes.”
“Yes, I was wondering when you would realize that.” Chief Werama checked his watch. “You had better hurry.”
As a teen, Dazi hadn’t liked Werama simply because he was an authority figure. These days Dazi accepted his leadership, but some days the chief’s high-and-mighty attitude was more annoying than anything else. He often corrected mistakes by speaking down to whomever had made them in a condescending tone. It was one thing to be a strict leader, it was another to criticize rather than advise.
“One more thing,” Chief Werama said. “When you get back, regardless of whether you’ve found him or not, you and I will have to have a chat about your future in this tribe.”
Dazi’s stomach clenched, then he bolted back into the office. He had to find Mateo. Mateo might be angry with him, but he promised he would talk to the chief, help him understand things. He wouldn’t lie to get Dazi further into trouble. And if the shamans take his memories, they might go easier on me.
The idea slipped into his head without much thought behind it, but it repulsed Dazi so much he nearly vomited. That was the old him thinking, the one who cared about little more than preserving himself and his tribe. That was the selfish Dazi who cast aside anyone and anything for which he had no use. He had tried not to be that person for four years, and though he messed up every now and then, this hurt more than all the others combined. The internal screaming started again.
Someone knocked at the front door before Dazi could open it. “Let them in, Teiku,” Chief Werama said.
His niece dutifully obeyed. Bivi’i, who lived down the street from Dazi, hustled up the hallway. Her many clunky necklaces bounced against her plump chest. With a concerned scowl she said, “A black lion just ran through town and headed south.”
“That’ll be the one Tommo warned us about,” Chief Werama said. “He’s a jaguar, and Dazitam was on his way to finding him.” To Dazi, he said, “Now you have a clue for where to look first. Ten minutes, then I send Tekaikwa and his men.”
Dazi clenched his fists. Tekaikwa had been his hunting mentor. He was one of the few other mountain lions in the tribe, and he boasted that he always returned from a hunt with something to show for it, whether it was the intended prey, something new, or merely wisdom. In this case, he wouldn’t give up until he came back with Mateo, human or jaguar, dead or alive. Dazi clutched Mateo’s clothes to his chest and sprinted south.
Their town was settled into the mountains near a natural spring. Rather than heading towards the scant forested area along the steam running east, Mateo’s trail indeed led south, out into the scrubland. What was he thinking? No one else leaves paw prints this large. He made a path in the sand that anyone could follow. Unless he wants to be caught.
“…they would find you, at some point. The longer it took the worse it would be for you…” That’s what Dazi had told him. Mateo would know there was little point in running or hiding. Hopefully he only needed time to think. Dazi checked the clock on his phone. He had eight minutes.
Despite how little coverage there was out here, it was the sound of Mateo’s panting that gave him away. Dazi found him nestled in a copse of sagebrush. He was still a jaguar, and he blended well with the sparse shade. Dazi approached with caution.
“Mateo? Mateo it’s me.” Dazi checked his phone. Three minutes, and technically he had found him, but now he needed to take
him back.
Mateo’s breathing stopped.
“Come on, Mateo, I know you’re there. I’m—I’m coming over there. As always, please don’t eat me.” Dazi took slow steps, talking as he went. “I brought your clothes. You were in such a hurry to…to…fuck, Mateo, I’m sorry. I should have pulled you aside in the parking lot and told you. I didn’t even have that idea until then. We were getting along so well, I thought maybe you would go with it until we could figure out something else. In retrospect, yes, I sounded like a total creeper. We’ve known each other, what, two days? Three? Of course I can’t marry you out of the blue like that, but…it seemed like the best option, you know?”
Dazi stepped around a bush and there he was. Mateo had flattened himself to the ground, ears back, fangs bared. Here we are again, back to square one. Mateo hissed.
“I know, you’re mad. You have every right to be. We can work this out, though. I do like you, I really really do, and I thought maybe…maybe we could—”
Thunder shook the air. Mateo’s roar caused the world itself to tremble, or so Dazi felt. That could have been the shaking in his legs and the shattering of his heart. Reflexively he dropped Mateo’s clothes and ran away as fast as his legs could carry him, wanting to go back and explain, but terrified of the beast who clearly didn’t want to talk to him. A second roar brought Dazi to tears, out of fear as well as heartbreak. All he wanted was for both of them to be okay, but he was a fool, like Mateo had said. His lingering doubts and mistrust had prevented him from fixing the biggest flaw in his plan, and now everything was falling apart.
At the edge of town, Dazi fell to his knees and cried. “What have I done…”
* * * *
Chapter 15
Mateo wasn’t suited to this terrain. His black fur stood out against the tan and sun-scorched green, and it made him too hot. Even though Dazi had brought him his clothes, he didn’t want to change back yet. A rocky outcropping provided shade and a decent hiding place where he could gather his thoughts. He knew he couldn’t stay there for long, since the Mukua’poan would certainly know every inch of their territory and all the places a jaguar could potentially hide, but he appreciated the respite nonetheless.
He shouldn’t have shouted at Dazi. Not only would that alert everyone to his position, but Dazi had been trying to apologize. Mateo hadn’t been in the mood for half-assed excuses. I thought we were past all the secrets and lies. You were telling me so much, why couldn’t you just say, ‘Hey, if you pretend to be my fiancé maybe we could buy more time’? Dazi had said he hadn’t thought of it until they were in the parking lot, but that still left time to discuss it.
They would be sending people after him soon. Mateo went back to the sagebrush to get his clothes. He didn’t want to be carried back dangling from a pole by his paws like some trophy beast. There was no one around, save for a few scattered rodents who had returned after being frightened away by Mateo’s roar. Even though he was famished from his change and running under the strong sun, he didn’t dare hunt them. For all he knew, one could be Dazi’s cousin keeping tabs on him, or at least a friend of the tribe. His stomach complained even louder after he changed back to a human, but he had dealt with hunger before. He had bigger concerns.
Grandfather warned me about the darkness in Dazi’s heart. He said Dazi cared for me. Why didn’t Dazi tell me he was facing exile? Is it because he changed in front of me? It was the first thing he did when we met. Mateo shook the sand out of his shirt and snorted. “I was right, Dazi. You’re a fool. You’re a damn fool. Why the fuck would you do something that could get you kicked out of your tribe for someone you’ve never met?” Mateo couldn’t figure out Dazi’s motives. He bitterly thought that it was due in part to the fact that Dazi rarely told him the whole truth. Fucking fool. Why do I still have feelings for him?
The search party found him trudging back towards the town clutching his stomach. When he first smelled them, his heart leapt into this throat. Dazi? The scent of mountain lion was unmistakable to him now, but the human scent mingled with it wasn’t Dazi’s. The one leading the band of four people was the source. He was much older. White hair streaked through the black that wound into a long braid over his shoulder. He had faint scars around his jaw and forehead. A seasoned hunter. This must be the mentor Dazi told me about.
“Tekaikwa?” Mateo said, hoping he pronounced it correctly.
The man frowned. “You know me, Outsider?”
“I am no Outsider.” Mateo stood tall, his chin up, shoulders squared. “I am Mateo, blessed of the Night Sun, descended from his priests and shamans, and future leader of my people.” If there were any left to lead. They’ll see through that bluff, but the rest is true and it makes me sound cool.
Tekaikwa studied him a moment. He bowed sarcastically. “And I am Prince of Hunters. I expected more from you. Dazi couldn’t bring you back, so the chief sent us. I thought we would have to track you at least a mile before we found you. Are you so ready to face judgment that you meet us head on?”
“Only the guilty man fears judgment,” Mateo said, quoting his grandfather. “An innocent man fears only the injustice of the corrupt. From what I’ve heard of your kind, you seem fair, but we shall see. That will be my judgment to make of you.” Oh, snap. I went there. Your move, “Prince of Hunters.”
Everyone in the group was stunned to silence. Tekaikwa furrowed his brow. With a snort and a jerk of his head, he turned and led them all back to town. Mateo followed, smirking to himself. One person in the group pulled a cell phone out of their pocket and started texting. It wasn’t something Mateo expected to see, but such was the nature of the twenty-first century.
Mateo didn’t see Dazi anywhere in town. He didn’t have time to stop and look either. Tekaikwa marched him straight to the forested area Mateo had avoided. There, in a small clearing, sat a decorated hut. A sign outside read, No Trespassing; No Photos Please. Tekaikwa gestured for Mateo to step inside.
Two men and a woman awaited him, flanked by assistants with bowed heads. Their scents mingled with one another’s and the strong smell of herbs and smoke. The woman and the younger man stood behind the older man. Dazi had told Mateo about them. The woman was Nattusu; she had a gray fox skin and she was the tribe’s expert in herb lore. The younger man, Natiam, was the closest thing the Mukua’poan had to a “chosen one,” since he had been blessed by not one, but four puha. He was training to be the puhagant and spiritual leader for the tribe.
The current puhagant, the head shaman of the Mukua’poan, was Tuku’isa. To emphasize his wolf puha, he wore a wolf-skin cloak and a traditional headdress. He didn’t have the lined wizened face Mateo had expected, but he had pronounced cheekbones and a tight-lipped mouth. That mouth held a slight frown as Mateo stood before him.
“You must be hungry,” he said. His voice was deep and wooden, like a strong wind passing through a hollow log. He gestured to a small table to Mateo’s left. “Eat, and then we will begin.”
On the table sat a bowl of bread and a jug of water. A prisoner’s meal. I would have preferred a few pounds of meat, but fuck it. I don’t want to go into this cranky. Mateo nodded politely as he picked up a loaf. “Thank you.”
Tuku’isa nodded in return. “You know why you are here, don’t you?” he said.
Mateo’s tail twitched. “I do, but we need to talk first.” He tore a large chunk out of the bread. He was so hungry he only chewed it enough that he wouldn’t choke when he swallowed it.
The three shamans gawked at him. “Talk about what?” Nattusu demanded.
“Well, I’m here so you can decide if I’m worthy of keeping your secret, but how are you going to know that if you don’t know who I am?”
Tuku’isa narrowed his eyes. “We have manners of determining that.”
Mateo clicked his tongue and poured himself some water. “Yes, yes, I’ve heard. Let’s start with the first thing you should know about me; I’m not easily intimidated.” He gave a brief history of his family, t
heir triumphs and struggles, his grandfather’s self-mutilation and journey to America, and the lengths his parents had gone to during his childhood to keep him safe. “I’m the only one with a tail. They could have cut it off, like my grandfather did, but they wanted to preserve our heritage. I’m sure you understand that.”
Natiam sniffed. “Fascinating as it is, your history is not our concern today, it’s your future. Maintaining one secret is difficult enough. Can we expect you to keep two?”
“And what would you do if you kept this knowledge?” Nattusu asked. “Would you go home and tell your family? Would you never tell another soul? Would you stay in touch with those you met at the convention? We cannot monitor you from a distance. Having someone like you loose in the world is too much of a liability.”
“Nattusu is right,” Tuku’isa said. “The only way we can know for sure that our secrets are safe is if all those who share it are where we can watch them. I would ask you to stay with our tribe, but…your other skin doesn’t exactly fit in here. Sightings of a jaguar this far north would draw attention, excited biologists, photographers, curious tourists. You do not belong here.”
Mateo wanted to scream at them for their hubris. He took a calming breath, though his tail swished back and forth in agitation. “What makes you think I would ever mention this tribe to anyone back home? Where I live acts as a brief stopping point for immigrants who sneak into America illegally. We give them a place to stay while they get their paperwork together and find somewhere else to settle, but it’s in everyone’s best interest if we don’t get to know each other. Makes it easier when the I.C.E. comes around asking questions. I barely meet any of them, let alone talk to them.”
“Yet you admitted there are others who are aware of what you are?” Tuku’isa said.
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