To Die Fur (A Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Mystery)

by Dixie Lyle

 

  I sighed. “Perfect. Does Ben know?”

 

  “Foxtrot!” Ben’s voice, from behind me. I turned to see him rushing up, looking anxious. “We’ve got to go!”

  “Why?”

  “Eli says he’s had visits from both Big Cats.”

  “At the same time?”

  He shook his head. “No, first Waghai Devi and then Apedemek. Eli wouldn’t let either one talk to Augustus, and both of them got kind of huffy. They’ve given him an ultimatum: Either Augustus reaches a decision by the time the sun goes down, or they’ll make it for him.”

  “Well, that’s suspicious timing. Both of them coming to the same decision at the same time? It’s almost as if…”

  “There’s a mole.”

 

  Ben glanced down at Tango. “No, I meant a mole as in a spy. Someone who’s supplying one of the divine felines with inside information.”

  “Like one of their worshipers?” I told Ben about Abazu. “Granted, Abazu doesn’t seem to know what’s actually going on—but maybe Apedemek is looking through his eyes. Is something like that possible?”

 

  By which I assumed the answer was yes, but that it was a subject us mere living mortals weren’t supposed to know anything about. Which I understood, actually; the idea of supernatural entities potentially spying on us through the eyes of other living creatures was more than a little disturbing.

  And then I told Ben what Whiskey and I had discovered about the murder, and who must have committed it. Ben nodded as I talked.

  “So where are we going?” I asked as Ben lifted his hands and the winds began to spin.

  “Waghai Devi first,” he said. “After what you just told me, I think I’ve got an idea about how to stall her. If it works, we’ll visit Apedemek next.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Then we won’t have to worry about visiting anyone, will we?”

  * * *

  This time we didn’t appear in a remote jungle clearing under a full moon. No, Waghai Devi had already played that scene, and now she wanted to send a different message—a much darker one.

  Literally. When the winds died down, we were still in a jungle, but the moon was gone. Starlight was the only illumination, and not much of it filtered through the canopy that rustled overhead.

  “Do we wait for an escort?” I whispered to Ben. There was no reason to whisper, but I couldn’t help myself. There was a sharp, metallic smell to the air that hadn’t been there before. A wet, red kind of smell.

  “I don’t think one’s coming,” Ben replied. He pitched his voice low, but it wasn’t—quite—a whisper. Well, he could throw thunderbolts around, too, and I couldn’t.

  Speeeaaak. The voice was a sibilant whisper from the shadows, and seemed to come from all around us. Every single hair on my body stood straight up, which I’m sure was the desired result. It wasn’t just a spooky effect, that voice; it was a voice I recognized, deep in my DNA. It was the sound of something hungry and pitiless just outside the circle of firelight, sizing up which one of the tribe was going to be dinner. It was the sound of something higher up the food chain staring down and licking its lips.

  “Waghai Devi,” Ben said firmly. “We are here to relay the wishes of the liger Augustus.”

  Wishes? I had no idea what he was talking about, but I was ready to back his play. I just hoped that didn’t mean being turned into a kitty snack for a giant tigress as a diversion.

  Which arrrrre?

  “He wants his killer brought to justice. Whichever one of you can do that will factor heavily in his decision.”

  I turned toward Ben and stared. He was just a blobby, off-white blur in the darkness, but I stared all the same.

  I sssseeeee.

  “Are these terms acceptable to you?”

  I will consssider themmmm.

  “Thank you. We await your wise decision.” And with that he raised his arms, the wind came up, the lightning flashed, and we were gone.

  But not back to the Crossroads. No, we whirled ourselves right over to Apedemek’s realm. Guess Ben figured I didn’t need him to explain his strategy, which was (a) presumptious, (b) accurate, and (c) kind of flattering. I just hoped it wouldn’t blow up in our faces.

  We reappeared on the same African plain as last time. The sun overhead was just as bright and just as hot. Whatever else Apedemek was, at least he was consistent.

  This time, though, he came out to meet us. And when I say “came out,” I mean in the sense that the sun comes out on a cloudy day—and again, I mean it literally.

  An immense ball of flame flared in the distance, then rose. This particular ball of flame had been lying under a banyan tree, and when it got up it set the tree on fire. It ignored that and stalked toward us. Apedemek, in full Sun Lion God mode, complete with flaming mane and eyes that burned. Gods, apparently, don’t so much employ metaphor as create it.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  His full pride was with him, lions and lionesses both, padding along and looking hungry. I’d never seen this many big cats together in one place, let alone acting in unison, and it was more than spooky; it was terrifying. The ones on either side broke into a lope as they got closer, closing around us to the left and the right until we were surrounded. They crouched as if preparing to leap, their eyes intent, their muscles tensed. It’s been said nothing’s scarier than the unknown, and while Waghai Devi clearly believed that, Apedemek was more of a cards-on-the-table kind of guy.

  Unknown number of tigers lurking in the dark? Scary.

  Uncountable number of lions right in your face? Scarier.

  Apedemek stopped, no more than ten feet away. He was even bigger than last time, his flaming head at least thirty feet above the ground. He stared down at us disdainfully. HAVE YOU COME TO DELIVER MY SON TO ME?

  “No,” Ben said. “I’ve come to deliver a message.”

  THEN SPEAK.

  “Augustus has made his wishes known. He will go with whichever of you shows him the greatest respect.”

  AH. TRULY, HE IS MY SON. AND WHAT FORM DOES HE WANT THIS RESPECT TO TAKE?

  Ben didn’t hesitate. “That you honor his desire for privacy.”

  PRIVACY? EXPLAIN.

  “He wishes simply to be left alone while he considers. That’s all.”

  I tried not to hold my breath. This was the tricky part. If Apedemek had been using Abazu to spy on us in some way, that meant he’d already violated Augustus’s wishes. He wouldn’t admit that, of course, but it might be enough to put him on the defensive, which would buy us some time.

  Or things could go horribly, horribly wrong.

  WHAT? LEFT ALONE? WHAT SORT OF DEMAND IS THAT? ARE YOU TRYING TO HIDE SOMETHING FROM ME?

  He glared down at us. On the defensive didn’t seem to be a phrase that translated well into Lion.

  “No, of course not. But surely, as a feline deity, you must understand such a need from a young male—”

  I DO NOT! A YOUNG LION SEARCHES UNTIL HE FINDS HIS PRIDE—HE DOES NOT HIDE FROM IT! THIS TASTES OF A TIGER’S DEVIOUSNESS!

  Uh-oh.

  YOU WANT MY EYES TO BE ELSEWHERE SO YOU CAN SPIRIT HIM AWAY TO WAGHAI DEVI’S REALM! THIS WILL NOT BE!

  And then he threw back his head and ROARED.

  I’m not going to waste time with hyperbole. It was loud. And ferocious. And fear-inducing. And you could tack a few dozen verys in front of those three descriptives, and it still wouldn’t be an exaggeration. Also, it went on a (very x 12) long time. Too long, re
ally. Even terror can get boring if you overdo it.

  When he was finally done, we took our hands off our ears and straightened up. “Um,” said Ben. “I sense you’re not happy.”

  I SHOULD TEAR BOTH OF YOU TO PIECES AND DEVOUR YOUR SOULS!

  The lions all around us began to growl. Lions get a lot of attention for all the roaring, but really, they’re champion growlers, too. And thousands of them, all at once? Like the rumbling you’d hear just before the apocalypse.

  This is the kind of situation where a good assistant can be invaluable.

  “Excuse me!” I shouted. I had to shout, just to be heard. “Mighty Apedemek, Your Carnivorousness! There’s something you need to know!”

  The growling died down. Apedemek stared at me with eyes of fire, and it felt a little like I was about to burst into flames, too. WHAT IS SO IMPORTANT, LITTLE HUMAN, THAT IT WILL SPARE YOUR LIFE FOR ANOTHER FEW HEARTBEATS?

  “When we told Waghai Devi Augustus’s terms, she laughed.”

  SHE DID WHAT?

  “Laughed. And then she bet us—wait, let me get this right—seven buffalo hearts that you would devour us on the spot. I told her she was wrong.”

  YOU DID?

  “Yes. You obviously have more self-control than she gives you credit for.”

  HRRRM. BUFFALO HEARTS, YOU SAY? SHE ALWAYS DID HAVE A FONDNESS FOR THE VITAL ORGANS OF LARGE HOOVED MAMMALS.

  “I got the idea it was really just a bet with herself. You know, a way to reward herself for being right.”

  YES, YES, I UNDERSTAND THE CONCEPT.

  He paused. His fiery eyes narrowed to brilliant slits. YOU ARE MOST LIKELY LYING, BUT I CANNOT TAKE THE CHANCE YOU ARE NOT. YOU TELL THAT SCHEMING FEMALE SHE OWES YOU SEVEN BUFFALO HEARTS, AND THEY’D BETTER BE FRESH.

  Ben swallowed, then said, “Absolutely. Then we can go?”

  NOT YET. BEFORE YOU DO I WANT YOU TO KNOW SOMETHING. YOU SEE ALL THE SUBJECTS OF MY DOMAIN?

  “Yes,” both of us said.

  NO. YOU DO NOT. MY PRIDE STRETCHES BEYOND THE HORIZONS, IN ALL DIRECTIONS. EVERY LION WHO EVER LIVED AND DIED IS HERE, AND ALL OWE THEIR ALLEGIANCE TO ME. SHOULD YOU NOT DELIVER AUGUSTUS TO ME BY THE TIME THE SUN RISES TOMORROW, I WILL STORM THE CROSSROADS WITH MY ARMY AND GET HIM MYSELF. HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?

  “Very,” Ben said.

  THEN GO.

  We went.

  * * *

  Back at the Crossroads, I took a few shaky steps and then sat down on a headstone. “Well,” I managed. “Mission accomplished, right?”

  Ben walked over and slumped down beside me. He looked as stunned as I felt. “Yeah. Uh-huh. What was the mission, again?”

  “Get out of there in one piece.”

  “You sure we pulled that off? I feel like I left something behind.”

  “Oh, you mean your sanity? No, that was mine. I wasn’t using it, anyway.”

  We sat quietly for a second. A school of spectral goldfish swam past, glinting in the late-afternoon sunlight. It was nice to be home.

  “So, we stalled both of them,” Ben said.

  “That we did. Nice maneuvering with Devi, by the way.”

  “Thanks. I wasn’t sure she’d take the bait, but I guess she couldn’t turn down a good hunt. Think she can actually do it?”

  “She doesn’t have to. She just has to wait until Apedemek does something stupid. Then she’ll pounce.”

  “Yeah. And Apedemek has given us until sunup tomorrow, at which point he’ll do something spectacularly stupid. Which I don’t really even understand.”

  “Maybe I can explain it to you,” said a familiar voice. Eli swooped down from the sky and landed on the ground in front of us. “Tell me how things went.”

  So we told him. Everything, including who I thought the killer was.

  “I see,” said Eli when we were done. “Never ask a question unless you already know the answer, eh? Well, it might distract her, anyway. But what did you think you were doing with Apedemek? Waghai Devi you can play games with—she enjoys them. But the lion god is too arrogant for that sort of thing. When he finds out you played him—and he will find out—he’ll be dead-set on destruction. In an undying, immortal kind of way.”

  “That’s the part I don’t really get,” I admitted. “He’s a god, but all he commands are spirits, right? How exactly is that a threat to the physical world?”

  Eli studied me for a moment, his snow-white head cocked to the side. Then he did something he’d never done before: He launched himself into the air, and with two flaps of his wings zoomed over to where I was sitting and landed on my shoulder. I jerked in surprise, but he dug his talons into the cloth of my shirt and held on.

  “You want to know how the ghosts of every lion who ever lived threaten the physical world?” he said. His voice was grim. “Let me explain it to you. First of all, in order to properly move his troops, Apedemek will widen the portal between his world and the Crossroads. He’ll do it with his teeth and claws, ripping the dimensional fabric itself. Then a wave of lions will pour through, and they will tear apart anything in their path.”

  “But—”

  “But everyone here is already dead? True. But ectoplasmic flesh can be rent and torn by ectoplasmic claws and teeth. The animal spirits will scatter to their respective afterlives, but even those who make it will suffer.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “The purpose of the Crossroads is simple, Foxtrot. It exists for one reason, and one reason only. Don’t tell me you’ve lost sight of that.”

  “Love,” I said quietly.

  “Yes. Love. To let those who loved each other while alive keep on doing so after death. If this war happens, the Crossroads won’t be able to function. Either people and their animals will be separated, or animals will wind up stranded, unable to get back to their own paradise. Apedemek will control the Crossroads, at least until Waghai Devi’s counterattack. And there’s no telling how long the war will last; when immortals duke it out, the battle can last centuries. The Great Crossroads itself may wind up so damaged, it will no longer be able to function afterward, either.”

  “Can’t you stop it?” asked Ben.

  Eli shook his head. “I’m only a caretaker. And believe me, you don’t want my superiors to get involved. They can be a little … apocalyptic.”

  I didn’t bother to pursue that line of questioning, because I knew it’d be pointless; even the fact that Eli had admitted to having superiors showed how serious the situation was. “So we have, what? Fourteen hours or so to come up with a plan?”

  Ben glanced at his watch, and his frown deepened. “Oh, damn. I just realized I have to start prepping dinner. I know that sounds a little lame, considering the circumstances—”

  “Go,” I said. “Even in a crisis, people have to eat. And we’ve still got the little matter of a killer to put behind bars.”

  You’d think that those two things would be enough to worry about.

  But you’d be wrong …

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Foxtrot,” ZZ whispered.

  “Trust me,” I whispered back.

  We were in the dining room, ZZ seated at the head of the table, me to her right. Tango was keeping an eye on Augustus in the graveyard, and Whiskey was posted just inside the border of the Great Crossroads so he could relay messages.

  Across from me sat Rajiv Gunturu, Jaro Karst, and Oscar. To my left were Abazu Chukwukadibia and Zhen Yao.

  “Welcome, everybody,” ZZ said. “I’d like to thank all of you for coming. It’s been quite the few days, hasn’t it?”

  “Indeed,” Abazu murmured.

  “This is so,” said Rajiv.

  “Too right,” said Karst.

  “I need a drink,” said Oscar.

  Zhen Yao said nothing, but she nodded in agreement.

  “I think that you would all agree,” continued ZZ, “that regardless of the reasons that brought you here, none of you wishes to go home empty-han
ded.”

  “Terrible thing, an empty hand,” said Oscar. “Where is that damn drinks trolley?”

  “Being serviced,” I said. “Astoria, can you get Oscar a drink before he expires of severe alcohol deficiency?”

  “Something’s better than nothing,” said Karst. It appeared he’d decided to take full advantage of his last night here, and had begun by trying to empty the bar. “What’s on offer?”

  “How about the truth?” said ZZ. “Let’s start with you, Mr. Karst. Or should I say Mr. Shreck?”

  Jaro raised his glass in a mock salute. “If you insist. I’ve been called worse.”

  “Mr. Shreck is not a conservationist at all,” said ZZ. “He’s a big-game hunter. His interest in Augustus was in auctioning off the right to kill him. Isn’t that right, Mr. Shreck?”

  Karst gave her a drunken grin. “That’s about the size of it, love. Hunting things is what I’m good at, and Gus would have made one helluva trophy. Too late now, though, eh? Some coward took him out with poison instead.” He glanced around at the shocked faces of the other guests. “Which one of you was it? They say poison’s a woman’s choice of murder weapon, most times. Maybe Miss Yao thought it’d be cheaper to ship him in a box than a cage.”

  Zhen glared at him. “You…” She broke off and spat something in Cantonese. It didn’t sound complimentary.

  Abazu shook his head gravely. “I would not be so quick to point an accusing finger, sir. You are the person who came here with murder in his heart.”

  “I’m not the only one,” snarled Karst.

  “Certainly not the only one who lied to all of us,” said ZZ. “But perhaps that should wait until after we’ve eaten. Ah, here’s the soup.”

  Bowls of steaming chowder were set down in front of us. ZZ smiled brightly at everyone and dipped a spoon in hers.

  The table ate quietly. ZZ and I had talked about this beforehand; we’d worked out a strategy to maximize the strain on the killer through carefully spaced-out parceling of information, some of it accusatory, some of it misleading. We were going to play with the killer’s expectations like two kittens with a Ping-Pong ball, batting it back and forth until a certain person was ready to crack.