Elite: A Hunter novel (7 page)

As it turned out, he knew Lady Rhiannon when they were both kids, before his whole family moved to Apex. And he knew Master Begay and Master Jeffries, who were now senior, senior Masters, as just Hunters.

Just as we were talking about Master Jeffries, another of those gut-clenching barrages of thunder shook the entire building, and the lights dimmed for a moment. I held my breath, afraid they would go out—but they came back up again.

“Storms like this remind me of the time the Thunderbirds came over Anston’s Well, and all the Hunters had worked together to create a Shield to protect the entire village from them,” he said. “I was only a kid then. Just ten years old.”

I’d heard the story from Master Begay, who had only been a Hunter then, but this was a chance to hear it from Uncle! “What was
that
like?” I asked, a little breathlessly.

“I’ve been thinking about that story a lot lately,” he told me as I leaned forward in my chair to listen. “We knew the storm was coming, and we’d need firewood to carry us through because we wouldn’t be able to get outside once it started. Everyone who was old enough to carry even a little wood was out by the splitters, gathering up as much as we could hold and running it into the houses. I can’t remember how many armloads I’d carried—twenty, forty, maybe more—when Sheila Yazzy screamed and dropped her wood and pointed at the sky. We all looked up and saw them, coming in on the storm front. Black against the clouds, you knew the minute you clapped eyes on them they were something other than eagles. Long necks, long forked tails—they had raptors’ beaks and eyes that glowed brilliant red. Even as high as they were, the eyes shone so bright you could see them from the ground.”

I’d seen Thunderbirds at a great distance, though never more than two at a time. I could
see
it in my head, the towering, charcoal-colored storm clouds, stark against the blue sky, and black against them, the Thunderbirds. Like cutouts of black paper, because they soared more than they flew, and with that storm wind under their wings, they wouldn’t have had to flap at all. You would hardly know they
were
living things, except for the movement at the tips of their wings, their heads shifting as they would look down at their prey, and those fiery red eyes.

“We all stood there, paralyzed, when someone, I don’t know who, had the presence of mind to run and blow the alarm horn. That broke the spell on us, and we ran for shelter. The two Hunters of Anston’s Well—that would be Shadi Newsom and Yanaba Yellowhorse back then, they put up their Shields to cover the whole village, and just in time, for the first of the Thunderbirds canted over sideways and began a diving run. Have you ever seen them attack?”

I shook my head. There hadn’t been Thunderbirds anywhere near the Mountain in all the time I’d lived there—only way, way off in the distance, and they never menaced us. I knew that the story of this attack was the reason why.

“They dove out of the sky, but not like a falcon or an eagle with folded wings. They came down slowly, in a descending spiral, with their wings spread. And as they came, lightning struck from out of their eyes and their mouths.”

It was easy to picture; something Drakken-size coming down in a lazy curve; my insides knotted up as I imagined it, because when an Othersider takes its time moving in on you, it’s because that monster
knows
it’s got you right where it wants you, and you’re basically a mouse looking up at the talons of an owl.

“Shadi and Yanaba had gotten the Shields up just in time; if any of those bolts had struck the wooden houses or the wooden palisade around the village, they would have gone up in flames. I ran, then, and got as far as the porch of the community hall, but there I stayed.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what I thought I could accomplish, but it felt as if I ought to be there. I suppose that’s why whoever was blowing the alarm horn stayed at his post too.”

“How many Thunderbirds were there?” I asked. In my mind there were ten or so of them, the first one coming down lazily, firing off blinding lightning bolts that were just barely absorbed by the Shield, the rest firing off their lightning from higher above, and the thunder rocking everything like the thunder outside was shaking our building.

“Six, eight, it was hard to tell. At least six, probably no more than ten or a dozen. The storm hit about that time, sleet sheeted down out of the clouds, and there was lightning lashing everywhere, not just the lightning coming from the Thunderbirds. I didn’t hear anything like that constant barrage of thunder until we moved to Apex and the whole family was in our first apartment here, in a big storm like the one going on outside.” He reached over to the cool-cabinet on the wall, got a bottle of water, and handed me one. I took it wordlessly.

I knew those early winter storms, when it wasn’t quite winter but you could still get something as bad or worse than a blizzard. And the Thunderbirds would have been augmenting what would have been a bad sleet storm and turning it into something worse. The only thing that the village had going for it that day had been that the Thunderbirds didn’t like the cold any more than any Othersider did, so they had controlled the storm and kept it to rain where they were flying.

But such rain…if it was anything like today, here and now, from the community hall where Uncle had been standing, he wouldn’t have been able to see the gate to the palisade through the pouring rain.

“Shadi and Yanaba wouldn’t have been able to hold out for very long under that punishment, but it wasn’t more than fifteen, twenty minutes before the first of the roving Hunters came down from the Monastery. Hunter Begay was the first, but the rest weren’t far behind him. I didn’t even realize they were there until, all of a sudden, there were four people out there in the clearing in the middle of the village. Then six. Then eight.”

They were all there, in my mind, standing in a tight little circle, facing out, hands outstretched as they bolstered the Shield. Master Jeffries and Master Begay must have looked like stone statues, anchoring the rest.

“Between their combined Shields and the relentless lightning from the Thunderbirds, even people like me could see the Shields. It looked like someone had put up a glowing dome of light over the whole of Anston’s Well, light that shifted colors the way the colors shift in a soap bubble. By that time, I was riveted. I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to.”

I’d seen that too, seen what happened when more than one Hunter combined their Shields to make one big shield. That was what the Elite had done for the last of my Trials. But this one would have been fluorescing every time a lightning bolt hit it, and—that was where my imagination failed me. It must have been glorious and utterly terrifying at the same time. “Then what happened?” I asked as he stopped to take a drink.

He smiled. “Ah, well,
then
the Masters came down. By that time, some of the Hunters had run out of manna, a couple of them had drained themselves to the point where they were passing out. Shadi was the first; she just dropped where she stood, right down into the rainwater that was ankle-deep at that point. That was when I woke up and ran out there and started dragging or helping people into the shelter of the porch, out of that pouring storm—and people in the community hall came out to my shout and brought them inside into the warm.”

I felt a burst of pride for the little boy who became my uncle. At any moment, that Shield could have failed and he’d have been Thunderbird chow. But he’d run right out there to help. No wonder he’d turned into what he was.

“Hon Li was the eldest Master then. He had four huge Hounds that he said were Tibetan mastiffs, sacred temple dogs, and they were the size of your Dusana. He brought them through the Portal, while the rest of the Masters bolstered the Shield. And then at his command, they dropped the Shield, and a bolt of light so bright I couldn’t even look at it lanced up from his hands and hit the Thunderbird just overhead square in the chest.”

It must have hit the ground like that meat avalanche, the Drakken we’d felled!

“It dropped like a stone, without a sound, and as soon as it hit the ground, those four Hounds were on it. One on the neck, one on each wing, and one in the middle of the back, while the Masters brought the Shield back up before the other Thunderbirds had time to react. The Hounds had that thing broken and dead in moments. And then the lightning stopped.”

He paused dramatically. I waited, clutching the bottle of water in my hands.

“Hon Li gestured, and the Masters took the Shield down again. We all looked up. The remaining Thunderbirds were just—hovering. As if they were in shock, totally dumbstruck by the fact that we’d killed one of them. There was even a pause in the storm, as if the storm itself was in shock. It was so quiet…so quiet. And then Hon Li bowed to the Thunderbirds.”

“He—what?” I said, not sure I had heard him right. Master Begay hadn’t told us this part. Then again, by that time Master Begay had been one of the ones passed out.

“He bowed to them,” Uncle repeated, “and then he spoke. His voice wasn’t loud, but I think somehow it could have carried for miles—it just had that sort of quality about it.
You have lost one of your own today, and now you know what we can do. Of a courtesy, I think that you should leave us in peace,
he said. Only that. And just like that, the Thunderbirds shot straight up into the clouds, and disappeared.”

Master Begay had just said, “We killed one Thunderbird and the rest fled,” but then, his version had been pretty bare-bones compared to Uncle’s. He sure hadn’t told me what Elder Master Hon Li had said. Now, if I hadn’t heard that from my uncle, I am not sure I would have believed it.

“Hon Li was a very great man,” Uncle said meditatively. “I wish there were more like him.”

“Well,” I replied after a moment, “I do know that we’ve never had a Thunderbird attack on the Mountain since. I’ve seen them at a far distance, generally at the front of a storm, but they go about their business and they’ve never threatened us.”

“Maybe Thunderbirds are the rare Othersiders that can be reasoned with,” Uncle mused. “Or maybe they were so shocked by losing one of the flock, they’ve decided to leave the Mountain alone.”

“Maybe both. Maybe some other reason we’ll never figure out or understand. And maybe they’re just waiting until they’re sure Master Hon Li is long dead,” I replied.

Uncle laughed. “That would not surprise me in the least.” He stood up. “I’ll tell Kent what your new assignment is, and he’ll take care of the rest. Enjoy your storm days, Joy.” He made a little sign that I should come over and be hugged, and I did. Then we left the office together, and he went off with Kent while I went back to my rooms.

As far as I could tell, the storm was still just as bad out there. Someone had put music on in the halls, probably to mask the sound of the thunder, but I could still feel the building vibrating through my feet.

I automatically checked my vid to see if there were any assignments, but of course, there weren’t. Well. Now I was on another secret mission from Uncle, or something like that. Of course, it wasn’t
exactly
a secret mission, but nobody but he knew what the heck I was supposed to be looking for down in the sewers.

The walls vibrated, and the storm growled, deep in its throat, feral. Not like a cornered beast, but like one that had its prey in sight. It wasn’t supposed to have hit us this hard….Why had it diverted?

I didn’t know enough, and I knew too much. I sat down on the sofa and decided to see if I could get a call through to Josh. I wanted to talk to someone, and maybe he already knew about this assignment. He picked up right away, but what I could see of where he was didn’t look like either Uncle’s office or his own apartment. The lighting was subdued, he was in a corner, and it looked like I was getting the feed from his Perscom camera. He wasn’t wearing his black-and-silver Psimon uniform; he was in something that looked comfortable and casual, and his blond hair was mussed.

And it’s weird, but seeing him relaxed and completely at ease made me feel better. Maybe subconsciously I was thinking that if
he
was stressed out, that was the signal I should be. “Hey!” he said, sounding as pleased to see me as I was to see him. “Enjoying your storm day?”

“I don’t know yet; I just got breakfast,” I said. I figured if he knew Uncle had come over here, he’d know what Uncle told me, and if he didn’t, it was something I should keep to myself. But…I really, really wanted him to know about it because I desperately wanted to be able to talk about it with him. On the other hand, I couldn’t just blurt out the questions—channels being monitored and recorded, and all—so I just came up with something to say. “Guess what! They gave us
pizza
last night!”

He laughed. “Then you’re eating better than I am. It’s military meals for us here.” He made a face. I didn’t blame him. I’d had MMs a time or two; they were packaged meals that would probably outlast the heat-death of the universe, and while nutritious, they were…well…utilitarian. So bland they came with hot pepper in a packet on the side, just to make them taste of
something.

“Where’s
here
?” I asked.

“The office. Those of us that didn’t get home before the storm hit—and don’t get the use of armored pods—have to live here for the duration. Cots, MMs, and a lot of vid and games. We don’t even get a spectacular view of the storm; the metal storm shields come up over all the windows.” He waved his hand around. “I’m lucky. I get the privacy of the prefect’s supply closet to sleep in and the use of his private bathroom, and he lets me keep clothing here so I’m not stuck in my uniform. So there’s that.”

“What about my uncle?” I asked. “Do you know where he is?”

“He’s gone to a meeting in an armored pod; he should be back soon, and I think he’s planning on bringing something other than MMs back with him anyway.” He raised one eyebrow. “Your uncle might be the most dedicated man I’ve ever met, but if he went somewhere that has a kitchen, I know damn sure he’s going to bring some decent food back with him. ‘Dedicated’ doesn’t mean ‘stupid.’”