Shifter Planet

by D. B. Reynolds

  The other woman smiled at her. “I wanted a minute alone.”

  “I figured.”

  “Amanda…”

  She braced herself for another lecture about why she should give up her pipe dream of Guild membership. It seemed a popular theme tonight.

  “I know the guys are all after you to quit,” Nadia said.

  “Tonio doesn’t say much.”

  “No, he wouldn’t. He’s a sweetie like that. I heard what Fionn just said to you, though, and I know he’s not the only one.”

  She didn’t say anything, just waited.

  Nadia’s hand stroked over her belly absently. “I just wanted you to know that there are some of us who applaud what you’re doing. Women mostly. We don’t want to join the Guild or anything. We also don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be able to try. Does the possibility of one woman in their precious Guild threaten them that much? It’s ridiculous.”

  While it might have been nicer if Nadia hadn’t felt the need to express her support in secret, she still took heart in knowing that not everyone was against her.

  “Wait, you said mostly women. Are there shifters who agree—?”

  “Oh, no,” Nadia said quickly. “I mean, sure, one or two like Tonio who have a live-and-let-live philosophy in most things. I didn’t mean them. There are a few non-shifter guys who’d like a chance, and they figure you’re blasting through a door they won’t have to open later on.”

  She had a moment of panic. This was exactly what she didn’t want to happen. The few shifters who didn’t hate her already certainly would if they found out there were other norms who hoped to follow once she’d forged the way.

  “Look, Nadia, I’m not trying to change—”

  “Good thing, darling,” Fionn drawled, dropping down next to her. “Because my mind’s made up. This is your first Harp celebration, and we’re making the most of it. We’ve got drink,” he said, setting a trio of glasses on the table. “Now we need food, lots of food. I’m starving.”

  “What else is new?” Nadia quipped. “You guys are always starving. My little guy isn’t even born yet, and he’s got me eating all the time.”

  Amanda sat quietly as her friends ordered the enormous amounts of food shifters routinely consumed. She had other thoughts on her mind tonight. Old worries and new. Mostly thoughts of the coming winter, and of the spring to follow. She had four months until the trials resumed, four months to prepare for the biggest challenge of her life.

  And that wasn’t nearly long enough.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Year 4669, Earth Reckoning

  Amanda leaned against the tree trunk, her cheek crushed to its rough surface, arms outstretched as though to embrace the ancient wood. It was warm against her skin and she closed her eyes, imagining the tree as the living thing it was—sap flowing like blood through its veins, its branches like arms stretched out to the sky, almost touching, always reaching.

  “What are you doing, Amanda?”

  She jerked upright, startled and embarrassed at being caught unaware. She pushed away from the tree, feeling her face flush. “What do you want, Fionn?”

  His laughter drifted down from above, and she tipped her head back trying to find him in the dense clutter of the canopy. The foliage was thick enough, or he was traveling high enough, that she couldn’t see him, and she hadn’t been tuned in to the trees enough to pick up his presence.

  “Just passing through, darling,” he teased. “I thought you might have fainted.”

  “Very funny,” she said, sitting down to rummage in her pack. There was no point in straining her neck trying to find him if he didn’t want to be found.

  “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” His voice drifted from somewhere deep among the trees. “Tonight’s the big night.”

  He meant the Founders Ball. The annual celebration to recognize the men and women who’d survived that catastrophic landing, the ones who’d taken on the unknown planet and made it work. It was the rite of spring, a two-day festival that culminated in a huge elegant ball at the Ardrigh’s palace. The ball was the most sought-after invitation of the Harp year, a chance for the ladies to break out their finery for the new season. There would be music and dancing, with servers and footmen and all the beautiful people. Her mother would have loved it. She, on the other hand, not so much.

  “Amanda?” Fionn’s impatient voice from above reminded her that he was waiting for an answer.

  “You’re the one who should be getting ready,” she said. “Your mother’s probably worried by now,” she added in a mutter, knowing he’d hear it. Shifters had very good hearing.

  “She knows I’ll be there,” he replied dismissively. “Besides, there’s plenty of time for me to get dressed. It’s you ladies who need extra time to primp.”

  She wasn’t interested, although…she wondered if Rhodry was going to be there. He might be worth a little primping.

  “Come on, everyone’s going.”

  Would Fionn tell her if everyone included Rhodry? Probably not.

  There was a crashing noise in the branches of a tree behind her, followed by the unmistakable sound of lethal claws on rough bark. The noise was intentional. Like every other shifter, Fionn could move through the trees in perfect silence when he wanted to. She spun around and waited.

  Moments later, he strolled toward her—barefoot, wearing only a pair of baggy cloth pants that hung loosely on his narrow hips. His long, golden blond hair tangled loosely over broad shoulders, and turquoise eyes sparkled with laughter.

  She sighed. There was no question that a half-naked Fionn was a lovely sight. So why was she far more interested in seeing a certain other shifter in all of his naked glory? Especially when the chances of that seemed pretty slim.

  “So, you’ll be there tonight?” he asked.

  “Maybe. It’s not like you’ll be wanting for partners, and I need a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow’s the—”

  “The trials,” he interrupted with obvious impatience. “Gods forbid I should forget the precious trials. That doesn’t mean you can’t spend one damn hour dancing with me.”

  “Maybe,” she repeated, not at all surprised by his attitude. Fionn would never understand why she was so determined to become a Guild member. After the months she’d spent training, he no longer doubted her determination, and he still didn’t approve. Maybe it was what Rhodry had said, maybe Fionn was worried about her, too. He did care for her in his own self-centered way.

  They both looked up as a sudden flurry of birds taking flight had the trees rattling violently. The distinctive eerie wail of a banshee followed, quickly answered by another and another until the forest was alive with the creepy sounds. It was banshees those fleet personnel had been hunting when they’d triggered the catastrophic explosion which had hastened the fleet’s departure. The animals looked somewhat like an Earth monkey, with prehensile tails and long gripping toes. They also had the vicious, ripping teeth and long, knife-sharp claws of a carnivore and their diet was almost exclusively meat.

  “Unusual to have a pack so close to the city these days.”

  She spun at the sound of Nando’s voice. He’d come up so quietly behind her that she hadn’t noticed, though Fionn would have.

  “Amanda,” Nando greeted her politely.

  “Hey, Nando. Guess you guys are going hunting.”

  Fionn gave a scowling glance upward, and said, “We have to check it out. We’re on perimeter patrol.” He gave her braid a hard tug. A little too hard. He was making a point. “Be there tonight, Amanda.”

  Before she could protest, he was stripped and shifted, a golden blur of motion as he followed Nando, who was already out of sight. She heard a faint scrape of claws as one of them took to a tree and climbed rapidly, and then nothing.

  She stared after them, envying Fionn’s liquid grace, his shifter ability to climb trees as easily as she climbed stairs. She scolded herself for still dreaming the impossible and turned instead to a differe
nt dream, one that was about to become reality. So what if she didn’t have a shifter’s fur or claws? The Green spoke to her, and tomorrow she would become the first non-shifter, and the first female, ever to undertake the Guild’s final trials. It was her big day. She had a lot to get done tonight before she slept. And none of it involved putting on a dress and dancing at the Founders Ball.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Amanda bounced out of her sleepless bed, and walked over to stoke the coals in her fireplace. She’d kept the heat to a minimum over the last few weeks, in order to prepare her body for the possibility of freezing nights during her trial. It would all depend on where she ended up for the final, and most arduous, phase.

  She stood and headed for her oversize closet to check her supplies one more time, even though she knew everything was there. She should be sleeping. Tomorrow would be one hell of a day, and she’d need her wits about her. Good advice, if she hadn’t been way too hyped for sleep.

  She glanced up in surprise when someone knocked heavily on her front door. No one knocked on her door, not even Fionn. He usually came through the window, which was why she kept her shutters locked. She lifted her heavy robe from the hook and pulled it on over her panties, which was all she usually wore to bed.

  It occurred to her to ask who it was before opening the door, but she had no enemies on Harp. None who were stupid enough to knock on her door before trying to kill her anyway.

  She lifted the latch and opened the door, staring in surprise to see Rhodry standing there.

  “Amanda,” he said, smiling a little as he took in the bulky robe.

  “Rhodry. Come in.” She swallowed the I guess that tried to slip onto the end of that greeting. If she’d known he was going to pay her a visit, she’d have worn something else. And maybe at least brushed her hair.

  “You didn’t go to the Founders Ball?” she asked, struggling to find something to say as she made room for him to step inside, and closed the door behind him.

  “I did,” he replied, indicating the elegant clothes he was wearing. “It was boring.”

  That startled a laugh out of her. “No music this time?” she joked, thinking about that long-ago night when they’d danced, and done…other things.

  He shrugged. “There was music, but you weren’t there to dance with.”

  “Oh,” she said softly, heat creeping up her neck. That was sweet. And very unlike him. What was he up to?

  He glanced around her apartment, his survey lingering on her piles of supplies just visible through the bedroom door. “You’re packing all of that?”

  He walked over to her bedroom closet, and she followed, stepping carefully over the cluttered floor.

  She looked around, trying to see it the way he might. “I’m just taking inventory so far,” she told him, realizing it looked like a lot of supplies. “I want to be sure I don’t forget to pack anything.”

  “Candidates don’t normally carry backpacks,” he said drily. “It’s rather the point of the trial.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. Was that why he was here? To talk her out of doing this? Or at least to try, because that ship had sailed long ago. She leaned over and grabbed the bedroll she’d prepared, then spoke without looking at him. “Do you think they’ll at least let me take a bedroll? I don’t have any fur to keep me warm, although I suppose—”

  “The final phase will be no different for you than any other,” he said with unexpected sharpness.

  She turned and frowned up at him in surprise. “Of course not. I wouldn’t expect it.” Which was the truth, although perhaps not all of it. She had hoped the trial judge would permit some practical concessions to her human form, like a damn bedroll for warmth. Not that it mattered. She would do without if she had to.

  “I don’t like this, Amanda.”

  “Don’t like what?” she demanded, letting a bit of anger sharpen her own words. “That I’m about to sully your wonderful Guild? Or is it because I’m an Earther?”

  He tsked impatiently. “I don’t care about those things, but I don’t want you to get killed doing something you don’t have to, either. This final trial is dangerous, and I’m not sure you appreciate just how bad it could be.”

  She regarded him unhappily. What would it take to make him understand?

  “My father is an earth witch,” she said suddenly. “I never knew that until recently. My mom told me when I decided to stay here.”

  He gave her a puzzled look. “What’s an earth witch?”

  “He can make things grow, even in the worst conditions. It’s kind of like magic, except it’s not. It’s a gift, and it’s unique to his planet. A very few people in every generation can do what he does.”

  “Uh-huh. Our farmers can do that, too. It’s called fertilizer.”

  She gaped at him. “I can’t believe you! You turn into a giant cat, and that’s perfectly normal. But I tell you my dad has a green thumb, and that’s too much? What the hell? You think shifters have a monopoly on amazing skills?”

  He tipped his head to one side with a little smile. “You think I have amazing skills?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know you do, and you don’t need me to flatter you. You get enough of that every day.”

  “Not as much as you think,” he muttered. “So Dad’s an earth witch. What’s that got to do with your determination to get yourself killed?”

  “I’m not—” she started angrily, then stopped. “What I’m saying is that I think that’s the reason I can hear the trees. I inherited my dad’s affinity for growing things.”

  He listened thoughtfully. “You might be right,” he agreed. “But I don’t see how growing things will keep you alive in the Green.”

  She gritted her teeth, wishing she could growl like a shifter. “Look. I’ve studied, I’ve prepared. And I’ve been doing this kind of thing for years, long before I came here. None of you seem to recognize that my life up to this point wasn’t spent sitting around a library. Damn it, Rhodry. I thought you of all people understood that.”

  He studied her unhappily, then shook his head, as if engaging in an internal conversation with himself. Finally, he said, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

  “That’s it?” she asked, half disappointed and half pissed as hell. “You came over here in the middle of the night to give me this little pep talk, and disappear?”

  He regarded her for a long moment, and she could almost see the conflict in his pretty golden eyes. She would even have sworn that he leaned toward her the tiniest bit. Would he bend his neck and his principles enough to give her a kiss for luck? A peck on the cheek at least?

  The moment didn’t last. He unclenched his jaw enough to say, “Good night, Amanda.” And then he strode over to the door.

  “Wish me luck?” she called to his back, trying to keep her disappointment from showing.

  He reached for the doorknob, and stopped. His head bowed for a minute, and she thought she’d won. But then he straightened, and spoke without looking at her. “Good luck, acushla,” he said, then yanked the door open and was gone, the door closed tight behind him.

  “Well, great, Rhodry,” she said to the empty room. “Thanks for whatever the hell that means.”

  And then she shoved all thoughts of him down deep where it couldn’t hurt anymore, and went back to her preparations for the trials. Which were now less than two hours away.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Amanda took a last look at her various piles of supplies and began stowing them in her backpack. She had planned for this day so carefully, making and re-making lists, checking with Tonio Garza—who’d volunteered to help her—then starting all over again, uncertain which list was the latest version.

  First up today would be the test for proficiency on the bow. It would be challenging, and even after months of practice, she didn’t think she’d excel. She’d do well enough to pass, though, which was all that mattered.

  It was the next and final part of the trials that had her checking
supplies compulsively, while her heart pounded and her nerves twitched. Guild candidates were dropped into the Green, far away from the city, with only fur and claws to get them back to the city. She didn’t have those natural defenses, and so had to make other arrangements. There’d been nothing in the rules against carrying a backpack, and although she knew that was because no shifter would ever need a backpack, she was going to make the oversight work to her advantage.

  She’d be carrying everything she needed on her back. Knives, medicines, a tiny bottle of soap, even a small folding shovel. All of it went into her pack, along with an all-important first aid kit, and a supply of antibiotics. There were also plenty of natural remedies in the forest and she’d made a point of learning them all.

  Of course, once in the Green, she’d have access to the same Guild caches the shifters did. In addition to clothing, there were durable supplies and foodstuffs that were placed at regular intervals for use by shifter patrols, and for the rare, occasional traveler. Amanda had also set up her own, somewhat limited, network of caches that were filled with supplies no shifter would ever need and no male would think to include.

  With a glance at the time, she began to dress quickly, layering on shirts, socks and even two pairs of leggings. They were all clothes she’d brought with her from the ship, all made of lightweight fabrics that when layered together would keep her warm in anything short of a raging blizzard. They also made her look about ten pounds heavier, and who cared? This was survival, not a beauty contest. Staring at herself in the mirror, she picked up and contemplated her heavy cloak. It had been a gift from her mother, something Elise had found on one of her planetary shopping excursions and bought for Amanda because it was beautiful, rather than practical. Made of thick, sturdy wool, it was full-length and heavy as sin. The sensible choice would be to leave it behind, and she knew she might very well regret the extra weight after a few days out there on her own.

  On the other hand, no matter how much her brain might be telling her the lightweight fabrics she’d layered on would keep her warm, there was something about the comforting bulk of the cloak that made her feel warmer.