“For that, I am grateful.” The moment we were alone, Nacola prompted, “Gerard tells me that I am going to have a grandchild soon?”
“Yes,” I answered, and for all my fears, I could not help smiling. “A granddaughter, according to Kel.”
Danica moved slightly toward me, and her hand touched mine.
“I didn’t think it was possible,” Nacola said frankly, “for a child to be born between our two kinds.”
“Apparently we’ve enough in common for it to work,” was my terse reply. Both our kinds had human roots. In the best of worlds, the knowledge that we were not so different would dim Nacola’s distaste a little.
In the best of worlds, many things would be different.
“I …” She trailed off and hesitated for a moment. “I am pleased to hear it.” The words came out a bit rushed, as if her determination would only last so long. “I would not wish to see my line end, even … I am pleased.”
Neither of us commented on what we knew was the reason for Nacola’s hesitation. She was pleased to know that her daughter would have a child. She was not pleased to know that her daughter would have a half-serpiente child.
As Nacola began her questions, I felt as if I was watching a bird of prey circle in the skies, coming ever closer to the moment when it would dive.
“You’ll have the babe here, of course?” Nacola said. “Even if the father is … not, it still seems right that avian doctors should attend to an avian mother.”
I felt myself tense as Danica answered, “Most likely, yes.”
I understood Danica’s desire to give birth surrounded by doctors of her own kind. The question was what would happen after that.
Nacola let out her breath softly, clearly relieved. “If you know for certain that the child will be female, have you considered an alistair?”
This time I felt Danica’s body tense. She answered carefully, “Zane and I haven’t decided how we will raise the child.”
“Shardae, surely you understand, if you don’t give the girl an alistair, she will be seen as outcast from the court. It isn’t proper—”
“And if I do give her an alistair, she will be outcast from the serpiente,” Danica interrupted. “I said we haven’t decided yet, Mother. Once we make our decisions, I hope you will respect them.”
The hawk respected very little that had to do with me, but she wasn’t about to say that aloud. Gods forbid she say what she was thinking outright. “Of course I must,” she replied. Her voice remained even as she went for the kill. “But have you considered what your people’s reaction will be, if their next Tuuli Thea is raised as a serpent? The war is over, thank the sky, but it takes more than a few months for the hatred and fear caused by generations of bloodshed to end. Your child might be able to end it, after she is queen, but this first generation will be in a very precarious position. The serpiente have an heir to the throne, I believe. Would you, Zane, be selfish enough to keep this child for your world if doing so risks her right to the throne of the land that needs her?”
Nacola Shardae, damn her feathers, was a true queen. In that single little speech, she managed to hit every vulnerability and fear Danica and I had regarding this child.
Danica stayed silent, leaving me to answer Nacola.
“We will do what is necessary to assure our child’s prosperity.” The statement hurt as I recalled my conversation with Irene. “We have some time before the decision must be made. If we can find no way to raise the child so both our kinds will accept her … then she will be raised to be Tuuli Thea, and I will name Salem my heir until—”
Until another child is born, I had been about to say, but there would be no other child. Danica wrapped an arm around my waist and gave me a half hug, despite how scandalized her mother would be by the contact.
Nacola nodded, and for the first time, I saw a glimmer of respect in her eyes.
“We will decide what we must, when we must.” Danica’s soft voice cut through the silence. “I hope you will trust us to do what is best. For the moment,” she said, changing the subject deftly as her tone lightened, “my most pressing concern is that this has been a long and difficult morning, and I’ve yet to have breakfast. Perhaps you might join me?”
One thing was true in both our cultures: When a woman carrying a child said she was hungry, people listened. Danica had no shame in ruthlessly using that fact to disengage us from her mother’s interrogation.
AS SOON AS THE COURT REALIZED that Danica was well enough to be social, they dragged her into the midst of their gossip, advice and congratulations. The next several days seemed surreal contrasted with the encounters of the ones before. Danica handled the crowds well, though I noticed her harried expression whenever she caught my eye across the room.
I recognized her people’s need to be reassured that she was all right. Rumors traveled as fast through the Keep as they did in sha’Mehay, and as much as I wanted to speak to her privately, I knew I could wait until the evening. For now, Danica needed to be queen to her people.
Kel approached me at dusk to discuss falcons and her temporary position as flight leader.
“Every now and then I sense a falcon in the marketplace,” she admitted when asked, “but these falcons are always powerless. When they escape the island, the Empress lets them go. So long as they are careful not to have children here, they are no threat to her. I have never recognized one of my own here who would be worthy of Syfka’s attention. Whoever it is must be well hidden, or not in our courts at all. If the falcons send anyone else, you may want to suggest they look among the wolves, or other local groups.”
I remembered Syfka making a similar comment regarding children when she had described Kel’s sentence. “Valene told me that falcons prize children. Even you said to Syfka that the Empress would be upset that our child was endangered in her schemes. Why would a child born here be such a threat?”
“Children on the island are rare,” Kel explained. “Ahnmik’s magic is based on stillness, death; it does not give life. For any falcon in the upper ranks to be blessed with a child is a miracle. So children are infinitely precious.” She shook her head. “Pure-blooded children, that is. Mixed blood children are more easily conceived, but far more dangerous. The magic gets warped in them, and it drives them mad. They usually die by their own hands, but only after they destroy everything around them.” Kel shuddered. “I was part of the Empress’s Mercy for nine years. Twice I had to bind such children, to try to keep them from harming anyone. It is a horrible thing to have to do to a child whose only crime was his parents’ folly.”
Bile rose in my throat. I could almost understand why the falcons hated outsiders and mixed-blood children, if they were forced into actions such as Kel described.
“Might the criminal Syfka was looking for have had a child here?” I asked. “Would she have been sent to locate it?”
Kel shook her head. “The Empress has other hounds to do that cruel work.”
Her voice was sharp, again laden with bitter memory. I found myself wondering aloud, “Kel, was there ever anything beautiful on Ahnmik?”
“There is nothing,” she answered instantly, “more beautiful than the white city when the dawn hits it. No dancer I have seen in the serpiente market can compete with the jaes’oisna when they perform beneath the triple arches, and no musician in the Keep can ever reproduce the way the magic sings. Those memories echo in my dreams and my every waking moment.”
She lifted a hand, and an image appeared, hovering in the air before her: buildings that glistened like the iridescent inside of an oyster shell, roads sparkling with colors too spectacular to name and what I guessed to be the residents of Ahnmik. Each person wore falcon wings, even the little children who ran and tumbled about the streets. As I watched the illusion, I could faintly hear music that was unlike any voice or instrument I had ever known.
“The triple arches are where the dancers and choruses perform. I used to dance there,” Kel confided when she saw me
watching the city. It turned and tilted to show each piece she described. “Inside the three white towers are the private rooms of Cjarsa, Araceli and, finally, the Mercy. Yenna’saniet. When the city is silent, you hear screams from that last tower.”
I used to dance, she had said. Suddenly it was clear to me that this must be the lady who had challenged Andreios to learn.
“There are things about my life before I came here that I wish the void would take from my mind. Things I’ve seen, heard … done, in the Empress’s name …” She shook her head violently. “There is no place more beautiful, but at the same time, there is no place more horrible. And even if I had the choice, no power in this world could convince me to go back.”
In the silence that followed, a new question gnawed at me. It had nothing to do with falcon traitors or Kel’s future, but instead dealt with my past.
“Shortly before he died,” I began, “my brother found a way to visit the falcon city. Were you still there when …”
I trailed off, because Kel’s face was suddenly stricken.
She hesitated so long that I thought she would not answer; then she said, “Anjay Cobriana. My partner and I were assigned to be his guides as he waited for an audience with the Empress. He tried to change things, in a land that has not changed in thousands of years. It was brave of him, at least. His death … was a tragedy.”
“Kel?”
We both turned at the sound of Gerard’s voice.
“Can I help you?” I asked, giving Kel an extra moment to remove the traces of sorrow from her expression before she faced this man.
“Primarily I’ve come to deliver a message to the flight leader. Andreios would like to meet with her regarding the position.”
Kel smiled. “Hopefully the fool has remembered that his place is as one of us,” she said affectionately. “With your permission, sir?”
“Certainly,” I allowed.
“Sir, I also have a … personal request,” Gerard said hesitantly once we were alone. At my nod, he continued. “Traditionally, a member of the Royal Flight must have permission to court a lady, since he cannot swear to guard and protect with his life both his pair bond and his queen.”
I had no answers to notions of protection. I still did not understand what differentiated a proper lady from a lady soldier, unless it was the same as what separated a proper gentleman and a gentleman soldier. It seemed to me that avian women needed little more protecting than the men.
I held my tongue.
“It has been difficult to secure a private audience with my Tuuli Thea, and I did not wish to ask inside a room full of court gossips,” Gerard explained.
“Will permission from the Tuuli Thea’s alistair suffice?” In the Keep, Danica and I seemed to have equal power. The only difference was that in a disagreement, Danica’s word won out. The arrangement was much the same as that between Diente and Naga in the serpiente palace.
Gerard suddenly glowed with joy. “So long as Andreios—I mean, Kel—and milady Shardae do not object, your word is certainly good enough, my lord.”
“Then court your lady,” I encouraged.
“Thank you, sir.”
The raven turned as if to start obeying my words that instant, but as I watched him go, a shriek of ky-eee froze us both, halting Gerard’s steps and draining the smile from my face.
Heads in the market were upraised, and an open area quickly grew as five peregrine falcons dove into the center, each taking human form as she hit the ground near where Danica had been standing with her gaggle of court ladies. The crowd parted like water as I hurried down the stairs to greet the unwelcome visitors.
Combined with such a formal escort, peregrine wings could mean only one person: Araceli of Ahnmik, heir to the falcon Empress—and one of the three who Kel had assured us had not left the island in thousands of years.
THE HEIR TO THE FALCONS’ EMPRESS was an imposing woman, with silver-blond hair pulled back in a tight, waist-length braid, and eyes as clear and pale as the purest blue opal. Strands of hair in similar shades of blue had been pulled out of the top of the braid to frame her pale face. She wore the wings of her Demi form as gracefully as a cloak; their violet-black tops contrasted with her fair skin, while their reddish undersides gave her a nefarious halo.
She wore boots laced to her thighs over black suede slacks, and an ivory low-backed silk shirt with golden embroidery. More disquieting were gauntlets that looked like the golden snakeskin of a Burmese python, and a simple dagger at her hip, no doubt coated with the deadliest of the falcons’ poisons.
Her carriage and expression warned that she needed no physical weapon, as did the four guards who accompanied her, all standing at strict attention.
“What urgent business brings the Lady Araceli and her Mercy to the Hawk’s Keep?” I asked, half shocked and half angry.
She met my gaze instantly—a fear of the Cobriana garnet was not for this woman—as she stepped forward and brushed her guards aside. “Cobra, do you claim this palace as yours now?”
I bristled at the words, but forced myself to remain as calm as circumstances allowed. Danica stepped forward, and though she wore a mask of avian calm, I could see the tension in her shoulders and the anger in her eyes.
“I am Tuuli Thea here,” she answered, not quite able to conceal her fury. “Zane Cobriana is my alistair, and I am sure you are aware of that. If you are still seeking your lost falcon, Syfka must have told you—”
“Syfka told me many things,” Araceli interrupted, “and none of them convinced me that she tried very hard. I want my falcon returned. The aplomado has failed in finding him, and while she faces the Empress’s tender mercy, I’m forced to go after the brat myself.”
Looking into her pale eyes, I was as lost as any sparrow whose gaze fell on cobra garnet. I found myself recoiling with a hiss when Araceli had done nothing more threatening than look at me. Danica’s hand touched my wrist, calming me.
What would the world be like if Kiesha and the other eight serpents from the Dasi had survived as the royal falcons had? Or Queen Alasdair and her first avian kin? What magic might our people have had if we had not wasted thousands of years and countless lives in war?
“It’s a pity you aren’t still,” Araceli murmured. “You might actually remember some of Anhamirak’s magic if you stop slaughtering each other for long enough. Still, I see no reason to hurry you back into war; you’ll manage it on your own in time. Now, my falcon?”
“We don’t know who you’re looking for,” I answered, glad that I could be honest on that point. Unless I had spoken aloud without realizing it, the falcon heir had read my thoughts a moment ago. Lying to her seemed like a bad idea.
She sighed and then glanced at her guard. “You sense him here, too?”
He nodded. “Well shielded, but yes. Higher.”
Araceli nodded. “Excellent.” She took a breath as if to sigh, but instead let out a piercing call any avian, serpent or landlocked creature could recognize—a hunting falcon’s war cry. Only shock held me still as everyone else in the room jumped, some gasping. Danica went rigid beside me, but before we could consider protesting, Araceli issued an ultimatum.
“If my falcon is not standing before me within the next two minutes,” she declared, “I will take this Keep down stone by stone and timber by timber, slaughtering those inside until I find the right one. I suggest you spread the word.”
“Araceli—” said Danica.
“You had better hope he’s loyal to you,” Araceli said calmly to her, eyes glittering with ice. “Otherwise he might just leave.”
“Araceli,” I said, “you can’t intend—”
“I never make a threat I don’t intend to keep, cobra. Though, honestly, I don’t think it will be necessary. He will come.”
I caught Danica’s eye, imploring her silently to get out of harm’s way. We could not both leave—not with Araceli standing before us—but one could go, if only under the pretense of searching for the lost fal
con. Ever so slightly, Danica shook her head.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw other, less faithful avians shifting into their second forms and either disappearing into the surrounding land or flying to higher levels to spread the word of Araceli’s threat.
Kel was the first one to return, her sparrow’s form coming to a hasty halt as she shapeshifted at Araceli’s feet. “My graceful Lady aona’la’Araceli—”
“You are not the falcon I seek,” the heir interrupted her. “You have received your sentence, and Cjarsa has supported it despite my protests. Now take your leave of me. Even this face is tainted by your stolen form.”
Kel recoiled, then collected herself and stood at attention beside me. “My graceful Lady Araceli, heir to she who shines in beauty and power, loyalty forces me to inform you that I have sworn myself to Danica Shardae and her mate, and that if you attempt this fight, I will defend this Keep and those within it with my life.”
Araceli barely raised an eyebrow. “And you will die, little girl.”
“And will I, heir to the kingdom of moon and mountain?”
The new voice behind me made the hair on the back of my neck tingle as I recognized it, but I did not turn away from Araceli. Kel tensed, and I saw Danica’s face turn white. Instinctively I stepped toward my mate as I felt her sway.
Again the man spoke. “I’m here. You knew I would be. I too swore loyalty to the Tuuli Thea; you know I did so years ago. I’m sworn to Alasdair’s heir, I’m sworn to the descendent of Kiesha and I’m sworn to their people. I never swore to you. So will you take me home to our Empress’s mercy? To her torture?”
Kel hitched a breath in as if with horrified shock, spinning to face the speaker. “Rei, careful—”
Araceli was hardly bothering to hide her rage. “Speak not of your Empress that way, nestling.”
“I’m no nestling,” Andreios sighed. “I may be young compared to some, but I am no child.”
“Impertinent—” Araceli stepped forward, her hand rising as if she would strike the crow, but then she stopped, her voice halting. She swallowed tightly before she said, “You’re coming back to Ahnmik. Now.”
The Shapeshifters: The Kiesha'ra of the Den of Shadows Page 25