by Jory Strong
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 beings 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 l
ittle 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 and 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.
Full dark had arrived, a time when natural predators hunted, and Rebekka was defenseless against them save for the calm her gift allowed her to project. Above them the moon inched higher, slowly moving closer to when the Weres were to meet.
They’d already passed the turnoff leading to the ridge path and the place where the encampment would be visible. Aryck pushed on, determined they would find her safe and unharmed.
Hope surged through him at the sound of something coming their way and making no attempt at stealth. Caution dictated he take cover.
A glance to the side and Chátima pointed to where he intended to veer off the trail. Aryck chose a place opposite, in case ambush became necessary.
Both remained human. Both drew knives from sheaths worn at their thighs. Both readied themselves to attack.
What had sounded like one entity became two. Aryck cocked his head, interpreting the footfalls. Two and four, with the four-footed animal the heavier and both of those approaching close enough to hear them panting.
Aryck was already standing and hurrying forward when the Tigers came into view, Caius holding his side, the smell of human blood and sweat preceding them.
“What happened?” Aryck asked, reaching them a moment before Chátima did.
Tears rolled down the cub’s cheeks. A sob escaped. “We didn’t know the humans were so close until it was too late. They caught Rebekka when she tried to run away from them. They were holding her down and pulling at her clothes. Canino and I stopped them. But then the two with guns started shooting and we couldn’t get close again. One of them hit Rebekka so hard she didn’t get up. They left the dead humans but they took her with them to the encampment.”
Despite the pain stabbing through Aryck’s heart he knelt and pulled Caius into a hug. “You and Canino showed great courage to do what you did, and even greater sense to retreat and seek help rather than throw your lives away. Rebekka wouldn’t have wanted you to do that. We’ll get her back. I’ll get her back.”
“We should have caught up to her right after she left. She asked Canino to take the journal to Levi. Then we found her necklace hanging from a tree.” There was confusion and hurt in Caius’s voice, the pain of a boy who knew the sting of abandonment and loss.
“I’m sure she had a reason,” Aryck said. “We’ll ask her about it when she’s back with us, then warn her against going off alone again.”
He set Caius away from him and said to Chátima, “The Tigers will accompany us to the meeting place.”
“Agreed.”
They backtracked. Then took the trail that climbed out of the Coyotes’ ruin-filled valley, finally reaching the ridge where the other Weres waited.
The mental link with his father allowed for the easy transfer of information. What surprised Aryck was arriving to find his father had openly revealed their ability to communicate by sharing what Caius had said with the others.
“I intend to go after her as soon as my duty here is finished,” Aryck said, keeping his voice from offering a challenge, though inside the Jaguar seethed at the delay even as the man knew it was necessary.
The Wolf alpha was the first to respond. “We owe the healer a debt. If we decide to eradicate the settlement tonight, then our attack can begin after you’ve freed her. If necessary, the Wolves will provide a distraction.”
Koren folded his arms across his chest as if to bar the part of him that was father instead of alpha from expressing itself. “We, too, owe the healer a debt. We will also allow enough time for her to be recovered.”
“We will as well,” the female Lion who acted on behalf of the grand matriarch said, sparing the Hyena, Coyote, and Bear alphas a quick glance before pointedly turning her attention to the encampment. “Unless there is an objection, let us agree to the Jaguar enforcer going first, and then to seeing this thing done tonight. There is no advantage in waiting and every reason to eliminate the threat to us immediately.”
It took less than five minutes for the alphas to reach agreement, and only another twenty for the enforcers and the men who would go with them to settle on a strategy for attack.
As Aryck started toward the path that would take him to Rebekka, Nahuatl stopped him. “Perhaps she went to the encampment to meet someone but was intercepted by others unaware of her purpose. Are you so sure you know her heart?”
A knot of pain formed in Aryck’s chest as he flashed back to his last conversation with her. He wasn’t sure of her heart when it came to him. But for the Weres, especially the outcasts, he had an answer. “Yes.”
REBEKKA swam upward to consciousness with nausea and panic pressing in on her. She fought back the urge to vomit, terrified of dying with it filling her throat, blocked from escaping by the gag tied brutally around her head.
She was bound, wrists to ankles, and lying on her side. Frantic sound, a sense of urgency, pounded into her, slicing through the pain in her head and bringing her fully awake.
The pungent scent of goat surrounded her. Their frantic bleating and repeated battering at the fence separating them from her brought horrifying knowledge racing with it.
Plague. They were ripe to deliver it.
Voices expanded her awareness beyond the goats and their desperate, instinctive desire to get to her. This close to them it was harder to call back the part of her soul that was her gift. She managed it, but her control wouldn’t last.
The animals quieted. A black mouse decided to change hiding places. It darted past her, its fur brushing her forehead, the soft feel of it taking away the stabbing pain that remained from the blow.
Rebekka sought out the voices through slitted eyes, careful not to let the two men who argued a short distance away know she was conscious. One of them was the militiaman who’d carried the machine gun. The other wore a rich man’s clothing, though she didn’t recognize him.
She closed her eyes again, listened as the stranger said, “I told you not to leave the herd unattended.”
“And I got tired of listening to them. I got tired of smelling goat piss and stinking like it. I wanted to do some hunting, and I padlocked the door shut to keep your precious herd safe. You should be grateful I went after deer and bagged something better. It saves you the cost of a prostitute. For now anyway. Down the road I’ll expect you to let me have one of them—call it hazardous duty pay, a little bonus to compensate me for the shit I’ve had to deal with.”
“I’m the one who decides what your services are worth.”