Truth in her words came through another vision, where lion men caught a shifted hyena in the corner of a cotton field. All of them appeared to be new arrivals—their brands hadn’t healed, and they still spoke African languages. In my head, I understood what they were chanting. “We will kill the hyenas, wherever we go.”
The lions transformed, surrounded the hyena, and … well, I’d rather not say the rest. It was too brutal, and the hyena didn’t make it out alive. Similar incidents took place in lots of different locations, which spun across my field of vision—over time, many of these instances also involved wolves.
“But I thought wolves came from Europe?” I said when I returned to Queen Ayaba’s bedroom, and the flow of visions was paused. By that point, I felt sick to my stomach.
“They did,” said Queen Ayaba. “But they joined with the lions down south.”
“Why’d they do that?”
“Because every predator resents the hyena’s strength, bravery, and intelligence.”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Queen Ayaba zipped me back to Africa, where I watched a series of hyena kills. They brought down zebras; they brought down wildebeest; they brought down antelope; they even attacked Cape buffalo. It was almost like a repeat of the dreams I’d been having recently.
“In Africa,” Queen Ayaba explained, “more animals are hunted by hyenas than any other predator. Even lions can’t match our hunting ability.”
Another scene appeared, where hyenas were battling three lionesses over a fresh carcass the hyenas had brought down. In response, a male lion sprang from the grass and broke one hyena’s neck with a swipe of his paw.
“We are the worst of enemies,” the queen’s voice continued, “and we have fought for thousands of years.” Pride crept into her voice when she announced, “But, here in America, we finally have the upper hand.”
“We’re winning the war?” I remembered those skulls. “They’d all come from lions, right?”
“Yes, we are winning,” she said.
An instant later, I was back in Queen Ayaba’s house. Her hands continued squeezing mine, albeit not so firmly. I felt that her whole body was drained of energy. I guess taking a young hyena on an adventure through time and space was pretty exhausting.
“Now, child,” she said with a weak smile, “what shall we do with you?”I didn’t know how to answer her question. Or what she was asking, really.
She continued, “We will ask the spirits to watch over you and help you save your family. That is why you have come.”
Remembering that Manny and his mom should be here by now, I asked, “What happened to the others who came with me?”
“They will be here soon.” She smiled. “They shall be protectors on your quest.”
“They’re going with me?” I was happy that Manny and his mom would be by my side, but I wasn’t so sure about Paco. All he seemed to care about was getting paid.
Queen Ayaba nodded. “You will need the jaguars’ skills to find your way.”
“What about other hyenas?” I would’ve felt even safer with Mr. Fowrou and Mr. Edi.
With a chuckle, the queen said, “They will only slow you down. You must move quickly, if we are to avoid disaster.”
“Disaster?” I didn’t think rescuing my family would result in anything worse than a slight scuffle.
Nodding slowly, Queen Ayaba said, “You will see what I mean. This mission is more important than you might think.”
“So … where are we going?” I asked.
“To the land of the condor.”
“Condor?” The image of a huge, vulture-like bird took flight in my mind. “That sounds like South America.” It clicked with what the bears and Manny had told me.
Queen Ayaba said, “Trust the spirits, and you will find the right spot.”
“But how will I find the spirits?”
“They have already found you.”
“They have?” I figured that I should feel different, now that I was haunted or whatever, but I felt pretty much the same, though slightly more confused about what lay ahead.
Closing her eyes, Queen Ayaba eased her body back onto the bed.
One of the veiled women beside her said, “It is time for you to leave.” Her voice was firm.
“Well … um … good-bye, and thanks,” I said.
The queen didn’t answer. I heard her chanting softly to herself as I backed out of the room.
Outside, Mr. Fowrou called to me from the path and said, “I’ve got to get you to Madame Chauvet.”
“Huh?” My mind was still felt fuzzy from all I’d just been through.
In the light from blazing torches, Mr. Fowrou cracked a smile. “You’ve still got lots to learn.”
He led me to another house, one that was smaller than Queen Ayaba’s and not as well protected. There was only one female guard standing outside.
A voice called me in: “This way, Samuel Budovich.”
Mr. Fowrou waved a hand toward the door, though it was clear he wouldn’t follow. Once I entered, in the glow of flickering candles, I found the same woman I’d seen onstage.
“I am Madame Chauvet,” the woman told me. Holding up a tiny pouch dangling from a cord, she said, “And this is your gris-gris.”
“My what?”
“It will keep the spirits close, wherever you go,” she said. “Inside are herbs and other special ingredients that will help you on your journey.” She held up a tiny hammer, no more than one inch long, that gleamed in the candlelight. After dropping it into the pouch, she pulled the drawstring closed.
“That looks like the hammer my ancestor used,” I said. “I saw it in Queen Ayaba’s vision.”
With a nod, Madame Chauvet said, “His spirit will watch over you.” She then rose from the table, muttered a few words I didn’t understand, and strutted over to drape the cord around my neck.
“You’ll also need this,” she added. From a fold in her dress, she retrieved an object. “This is your new wallet.”
“Oh, thanks.” Like my pouch, it was patterned with intricate symbols.
“Keep it with you at all times.”
I nodded while taking it from her, but the truth was, it felt kind of empty.
“Is there a problem?” asked Madame Chauvet.
“Problem?” My face flushed hot. “No … no problem … no.”
Her glare became even more piercing. “You’re worried that the wallet has nothing inside?”
“Uh … maybe,” I forced myself to admit.
“The wallet will give you what you need, when you need it,” she assured. “Open it when the time is right.”
“Okay. Cool. Thanks.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Voices murmured outside, and I recognized them as belonging to Paco, Manny, and Manny’s mom. Mr. Edi had brought them into the compound, it seemed.
Madame Chauvet said, “Be strong, be brave, and be smart, Samuel Budovich. These are the three virtues of the hyena.” She pointed at the door. “Now, get moving.”
“We’re going with you?” Manny asked as soon as I stepped outside. “That’s what the queen lady just said to my mom!”
“You talked with her?” I blurted in surprise.
“My mom did,” he said. “I wasn’t allowed. But we’re going with you, right?” His tone sounded hopeful, as if he might actually be looking forward to this quest.
“It looks that way,” I said.
He cracked a slight smile. “Cool.”
This gesture lifted my spirits. For the first time, it felt like I had a true friend.
Paco’s ear flicked. “Are we going right now?” Then he said to Manny’s mother, “Usted me prometió cuatro mil dólares.”
I glanced at Manny. “What did he say?”
“That we have to pay him four thousand dollars.”
“What?”
“Man, that’s just pennies to us,” boomed a voice from behind. I turned and saw Mr. Fowrou.
“It is?” My mouth fell open.
Mr. Fowrou peered at me. “Didn’t you just get a wallet from Madame Chauvet?”
I dug it out of my pocket. “Yeah, it’s right here.”
“Open it up,” he said.
When I’d first stuck it in my pocket, the wallet was thin. Now, it was bulging.
“Give the man his four thousand.” Mr. Fowrou nodded at Paco.
When I opened the wallet, it was stuffed with hundred dollar bills, plus a few smaller ones. While I turned the money over, Manny and his mother just stared. I did, too. It was more money than I’d ever seen before in my life.
“How’d you get so much money?” Manny asked under his breath, so only I could hear.
I shrugged. Words had completely failed me.
Mr. Fowrou chuckled. “You’d better get used to surprises from now on, young brother.”
It seemed like good advice.
THEY FED US BEFORE WE LEFT, AND BOY, THAT FOOD WAS good. There was pork from wild swamp pigs they’d hunted; there were thin steaks from deer; and there were even portions of alligator tail (I hoped it wasn’t Lamont).
After leaving with full bellies, Paco gassed the car up near Baton Rouge. I paid, of course, since my wallet was filled to the brim. Thankfully, the no-tail cashier didn’t sense anything funny when I paid her, which meant my money wasn’t just a trick of the eye.
Back on the highway, Paco pulled to the shoulder once we’d gone a few miles. Peering at me through the rearview mirror, he said, “It’s gonna cost you another seven thousand to get across the Mexican border.”
“Seven thousand?” Manny and I both asked in unison.
Paco’s glare was unflinching. “You gonna pay me, or what? And this time, you gotta pay in advance.”
A rumble built in Manny’s throat. “No, he doesn’t,” he snarled.
Manny’s mother looked at Paco and glared.
We sat there in silence for another moment longer, with trucks and cars zipping past us on the highway. Finally Paco said, “Then you gotta pay me nine thousand when we get there if you won’t pay now.”
Manny snarled a second time. “You’ll get seven thousand when we get there, nothing more. And you’d better keep your end of the deal.”
Manny’s mother kept scowling at Paco, which told me she clearly didn’t approve of what he was pulling. I didn’t think she understood English, but she appeared to sense that Paco was trying to squeeze me for more money.
Out of options and stared down by three larger predators, Paco turned, shifted the car into gear, and merged back into traffic.
Our journey to Mexico was supposed to take nineteen hours, so our plan was to stop in western Texas before pushing all the way to the border. While we rode, I wondered what might be happening with my family. Were they safe? Were they being treated nicely? Were they suffering or in pain? These sorts of questions kept me determined to do whatever I could to help them. Mom and Dad had protected me from the wolves, and even Lauren stood up for me every once in a while. When I reflected on the time we spent together, and realized how much they must’ve cared, I knew that I owed them a lot. I also hoped they’d meet Queen Ayaba on their return and learn about the hyena’s true nature.
Paco mentioned hunting for food, and he checked his rearview mirror to gauge my reaction.
This time, I didn’t even flinch. All I said was, “Sounds good.”
“Really?” Paco’s eyes widened with surprise.
“Told you he’s a hunter,” said Manny. Then he kind of half-smiled at me. It made me feel like I was starting to earn his respect.
Crossing Texas took as long as I’d imagined, considering it was the second largest state. At least there was plenty of grassland, which was comforting. It felt like we were on the African plains—at least from what I’d experienced of it through Queen Ayaba’s visions—although this grassland was split up between barbed-wire fences and asphalt roads. Like the bears had told me, no-tails were leaving their mark everywhere and dividing up these natural areas as if they had a right to do so. Even when hills rose and fell like gentle waves, I could see how some had been broken and blasted through in order to make room for the highway.
By the time the sun had set, the landscape turned drier, almost like a desert, which made sense because we were approaching New Mexico. While darkness fell, Paco and Manny’s mother decided it was time to eat.
“Why don’t you lead the way?” Paco suggested, throwing his head back and glancing at my eyes. We were just getting out of the car.
“Who, me?” I may have been a real hunter and all, but I didn’t feel too comfortable with leading. This was all still very new to me.
Fortunately, Manny’s mom had quietly pushed out ahead of us and brought down an animal before anyone else could transform. There was a high-pitched squeal of surprise, the sound of hooves scraping hard soil, a crunch, and then a deep roar.
“Come on,” said Manny, flicking his head toward the clamor. “Let’s eat.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, I ducked behind some big rocks, undressed, and shifted. When I caught the smell of fresh meat, my newfound instincts took charge. This was exactly what I should be eating—no more three-day-old turtle and rotten raccoon.
I wasn’t entirely keen on the idea of actually killing things, though. Not a full-fledged hunter yet, I guessed.
We soon found Manny’s mom clutching a beast that looked like a pig, although it was smaller than the Hogzilla we’d taken down in Tennessee. Its teeth were also more menacing—they looked like the tusks of a demon.
“That’s a javelina,” said Manny. “Down in Mexico, we used to eat them all the time.”
Manny’s mom held it out for me to take the first bite (she was really nice to do it), so I trotted up and grabbed a mouthful of that pig-thing’s hindquarters. Not surprisingly, it had a pork-like flavor. Not quite as good as what we’d eaten in Louisiana, but tasty enough.
Manny warned, “Just stay away from that mouth. Sometimes they clamp down—even after they die.”
Gulping my first mouthful, I nodded. There wasn’t any need to explain. Those teeth could take a chunk from me, no doubt, and I planned on steering clear of them no matter what.
Once our bellies were full, we slept for a few hours in the desert, and I was amazed at how quickly the temperature dropped as we lay there. By the time the moon had risen, I was shivering, even while covered in fur. Paco and the others didn’t seem as bothered, sleeping soundly by the remains of their dead javelina, but I decided to curl up by the rocks where I’d stashed my clothing. The boulders retained some daytime warmth, enough to let me stop shivering. While I drifted off to sleep, I congratulated myself for such a good idea.
At least … it seemed like a good idea until the next morning.
When dawn splashed across the sky, I welcomed those first few rays of heat.
Except I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed them.
Upon moving my paw, I heard a rattle. There was no question what made the sound, since I’d encountered similar reptiles in Vermont.
Oh, no. Rattlesnakes were curled up everywhere I could see. These were bigger than the average rattler, too—easily six feet long when stretched out to full length, I gathered.
Every last one was staring at me. Their pupils cut down like slits in round windows, and the snake that rattled was coiling, which could be the first sign of a strike. If I ran—even at hyena speeds—there were a dozen snakes I’d meet in any direction. Manny and his mom couldn’t save me, either, because there were just too many. If they swatted away five, ten others would take their place.
My only strategy was to keep frozen. Maybe they’d lose interest, and I could gingerly take my exit?
One problem: my legs were cramping. I needed to stretch. But those scaly death hoses kept staring at me. My mind raced over what would happen if I were bitten, since I’d need medical attention. What might the doctors at a hospital think? If they learned of my two-sided nature,
I’d probably wind up in some top-secret government experiment. This was the reason why shape shifters avoided hospitals as much as they could.
“Fear not, Samuel Budovich,” called a voice near my feet.
Who said that? I wondered. Was it one of the snakes? The more I repeated the words in my head, the more that voice sounded like a hiss.
The voice said, “Sssspirits are watching you.”
I was too scared to utter a sound or move my head, so I rolled my eyes in their sockets to give whatever was attached to that voice some indication that I’d heard it.
“You will be sssssafe,” the voice continued. “Be ssstrong, be brave, and be sssmart.”
Those words were familiar, and I dared to lift my head. The snakes didn’t react, which came as a huge relief. Feeling bolder, I glanced at my paws.
The rattler that coiled had reared higher; its cold stare drilled straight through me. And even though I was supposed to be a brave hunter and everything, I cowered back down.
A long shadow approached in the early morning sun. It was Manny’s mother, still in jaguar form.
An instant later, the snake broke its gaze and slithered off. The others followed and soon all of them—easily two hundred in total—were a safe distance away.
“Snakes carry the spirits of our ancestors,” I heard someone say.
I glanced over at Manny’s mother, but knew she hadn’t spoken. Then I recognized the voice. It was Queen Ayaba who’d sent me the message. I hadn’t heard it, exactly—it had gone straight into my brain.
“Oh … okay,” I said aloud, checking every which way. I wasn’t sure where to look when I answered, or even if I needed to speak out loud. I could probably answer with a thought, just like she’d spoken to me. But as this spirit stuff was entirely new, I didn’t really know how to react.
“Take care, Samuel Budovich,” said the queen’s voice.
“Yeah. Uh … you, too.” I peeked over at Manny’s mother and felt kind of weird, although she appeared to understand what had just happened.
Rising on four legs, I stretched out my cramping limbs and shook off any lingering panic. There was no reason to be nervous, I reminded myself—not if the spirits were protecting me. That gris-gris I’d gotten from Madame Chauvet was still around my neck. I thanked Manny’s mother with a “Gracias” for checking up on me, and she answered with a jaguar smile. Moments later, after shifting back and getting dressed, we were back in Paco’s car headed west.
Earning My Spots Page 9