Othersphere (20 page)

“Hey!”

Orgoli's head swiveled toward me, the ears, now dripping with rain, cupped in my direction. Caleb had gotten Lazar to his feet. They were running deeper into the storm. Lazar cast one last look back at me before the clouds swallowed him up.

They might make it out. That thought would once have comforted me, but now everything had narrowed down to this world, this moment: to Orgoli, to battle, and the strength of the storm all around.

The great cat Khutulun stood up behind me. I felt no change in her even, rapid breaths, so she was uninjured. But she was shrinking away from Orgoli. She was afraid.

So was I. My mouth was dry. The rain washed down my face, wetting my lips. But the fear was only one small part of this moment, and it fed my anger, my desire to dominate and overcome this giant before me.

“Sorry to distract you from taking over another world by invading this one,” I shouted. The storm all around us beat itself against Orgoli's thickly furred, impervious hide. “Would you like me to stay?”

The monstrous tiger curled one lip in a snarl, revealing fangs as long as I was, and rumbled out a growl that shook the earth. My heart rumbled, too. I flexed my fingers, knowing soon they would bear great claws, claws that would sink deep into Orgoli's skin.

“Thinking about swallowing me whole?” I asked, throwing my arms out wide, internally sending out a plea to the air, the rain, and the very molecules around me for help. I knew without a doubt that the storm would hear me, for we were one. “Go ahead!”

The great head lowered; the vast muzzle opened. I looked up into the immense maw as it descended on me, hot breath like a slaughterhouse bearing down.

With a pulse like the beating of a great heart, an immense shaft of lightning clouted Orgoli across his black nose. His yowl nearly split my ears. He reared back, shaking his head, paws batting at his face.

I shifted to tiger form in that moment. The electricity in the air set my fur on end and jolted me with its vitality. I leaped for Orgoli's throat. It didn't matter that I was one-quarter his size. My teeth were sharp, and I hungered. My claws sank through his fur and into the skin with gratifying ease. I could smell the power inside him. I wanted it, and it would be mine. My fangs sank into his flesh, whiskers guiding me to find a vein.

Hot blood like no other touched my tongue. The richness of it, the liquid force within it smacked of omnipotence. The world teetered around me as I savaged his throat, shaking my head, fighting for more.

Orgoli thrashed, whacking Khutulun again. She flew a hundred feet back. She would have slammed into a tree, but she shifted in mid-air into something with wings and flew raggedly away.

Yes, yes.
It all made sense now. One day I would have wings, too. If I drank deeply here I could do that—and more. I nearly laughed at Khutulun's retreat. She was a fool not to be here with me, feasting. But I didn't need her. The potency of Orgoli's blood was all I needed. I bit him again.

He howled horrifically and swiped at me. The blow slammed into me like a falling building, knocking the air from my lungs and tearing me off of him. I soared through the mist, into the heart of the storm.

I landed hard. My back snapped, and everything below my waist went numb.

It didn't matter. I licked my muzzle, wanting every drop. I could still flex my front claws, and they could still rend and find me more blood. I would immerse myself in that power and lose myself there.

“Dez!”

I looked up from licking my bloody paws, ears flicking back with irritation.

“Dez! You've got to shift!”

Through the swirling mist and rain I saw a peaceful night scene as big as life, like a painting someone had propped up in the middle of the storm for my amusement. It depicted a quiet suburban park at night, still wet after a rain.

Quiet, except for the tall, angular figure singing out a vibrant chord of notes. Ranged next to him were four large doglike figures, a girl, and two boys. At their feet was a brown rope, lying as if it had just fallen from their hands.

“Shift, Dez!” The blond boy shouted at me. He started forward, as if about to walk through the painting. Through my drugged haze, I vaguely recognized him, and the dark boy beside him who stopped him.

Lazar called out a note, telling me to shift, to remember my human body, to reject the tiger, to heal, to come back. I knew his intention, but its potential was undercut by its journey through the veil. The song of Othersphere was much stronger. It was pumping through my heart.

I went back to licking my paws, my muzzle, my whiskers. Every drop was another beat of the heart of the world ringing out inside me.

“That won't work,” Caleb was saying. He sounded far away, unimportant. “It won't translate across the veil.”

Lazar whirled on him “At least I'm trying to help. At least I haven't given up on her, the way you've given up on everything!”

“I am trying to help, you stupid shit!”

To hell with them.
Let them argue till the end of the world. I would stay here. I would shift, heal, and drink Orgoli's blood until I was so powerful no one would ever dare cross me. I would grow so large, be so fearsome, that everything and everyone would fear and love me forever.

I licked my paws as the earth trembled beneath me. Orgoli was coming through the storm. With its help and with this new strength I could grow even bigger than he, big as the moon itself....

The air around me sparked. My whiskers fanned out, and a huge fork of lightning thrust down like a spear and struck the ground between my front paws. Heat scorched my face. I shut my eyes and smelled burning fur. Thunder shouted at me; it roared.

Don't be a fool
.

The storm.

A deluge of feeling shook me back to pain, to fear, to the realization I was dying. Love and anger flooded through me too. Me, Desdemona Grey. Not Sarangarel. I wasn't only a tiger feasting on her enemy. I was the girl who had climbed the Lightning Tree as a child, who grew tomatoes, hated Las Vegas, who loved animals and my mother and the snow.

The fog parted and a paw bigger than a boulder touched the earth beside me.

I looked up at the tiger towering over me. I could shift to human to heal, then in a blink shift back to tiger, leap on him, and begin the fight again.

I could be Amba. Or I could be a girl.

I shifted back to human, for that was also what I was. My back healed with the change. I could feel my legs, my two almost-human legs. To be completely human again, all I had to do was step through the veil.

Caleb and Lazar had stopped arguing. London barked a command at me. Morfael's eyes were glistening with effort to keep the window open. He beckoned.

The tiger's paw lifted, claws extended.

I jumped through the window, tumbling into the bodies of my friends and my teacher like a bowling ball hitting a strike. Morfael lurched backwards. The note he was singing was cut off, and the window snapped closed. The rain and wind were gone, as if they'd never been.

The cold Burbank winter night air was still. All around us, crickets were quietly chirping.

Gulping in air, I put my hands to the wet familiar grass and lifted my very sore, very unclothed human body up. I was tall but no longer filled with otherworldly grace. I pushed my long red hair, no longer striped with black, away from my face. Naked after a shift again except for the ever-present Shadow Blade. No fabulous thistledown gown to shield me here, but with the Shadow Blade once more on its belt around my waist.

A long black coat settled down over my shoulders. Caleb's.

“Thanks,” I said, shoving my arms through the sleeves. Around us, the others were getting to their feet. Morfael dusted blades of grass off his long sleeves.

“Any time,” Caleb said. His dark eyes caught mine with an intensity that belied his casual words; then he turned away.

CHAPTER 12

During the drive back from Burbank I said very little. The sudden loss of the music of Othersphere was like going deaf. The metal of the car felt so wrong, so hard. The fake leather of the seats had no inner life, no music to connect it to the rest of the world.

London and Amaris filled Morfael in on everything that had happened while smiling mindlessly at each other, with Caleb and Lazar chiming in with their own funny commentary. The two of them went on to dissect the biology of Othersphere and to speculate how it accommodated the once-extinct species that lived on there. Some of their ability to work together there seemed to have endured the crossing of the veil. The only thing that got through my shock was the pleasure of hearing them finish each other's jokes about the eye-gouging faeries, or speculations about what would happen if a giant sloth had wandered through the window into the park at Burbank.

I woke up the next morning alone in the dorm room. As usual, I had slept later than everyone else. I forced myself to shuffle up the stairs to the empty dining room and drink a cup of coffee, even though I hated the biting taste. I ate automatically, feeling empty, thinking.

I kept thinking about the tiger-shifters, the looks on their faces when their cages opened.

Then there was that look Caleb had given me after covering me with his coat. It wasn't unlike the look in his eye months ago, a look that was burned into my brain—the look of utter desire and love that had brought him back to this world, the feelings that had kept him from being overtaken by a creature from Othersphere, who, it turned out, was Orgoli.

And there was Lazar, who also loved me, although he'd bitten back the words. A boy who was always there when I needed him, a boy who desired me, too, and who made me feel safe like no one ever had before.

I cleaned my cereal bowl, dried it, and put it away, and saw a half-full bag of chips with the top folded over, neatly clipped closed.

I caught myself. November wouldn't be snacking here any time soon. November was gone. I really could've used an infusion of her sarcastic perspective right now. But she hated me.

She and Siku's family were attending the big shifter council meeting to discuss the tribes' uniting against the Tribunal. Something I'd been trying to get them to do for months. But they hadn't invited me. It was hard to blame them now that I'd seen where I came from.

The ground seemed to teeter under my feet, even though all was still. I grabbed the edge of the dining room table to steady myself. Was I Desdemona Grey? Or was I Sarangarel, the Amba who could depose Orgoli's tyrannical rule and set his prisoners free and make things right?

Was I really even a person? It was like I didn't exist.

A door clicked shut nearby and multiple sets of footsteps clattered on the wood floors. I heard Arnaldo saying, “Okay, but just one more bowl of cereal till lunch or there won't be any left for breakfast tomorrow.”

He walked in, lean and brown, fresh from outside, leading his younger brothers, Luis and Cordero. He saw me, and his eyes lit up. “Dez!”

I shoved away from the dining table and threw my arms around him, squeezing tight, not caring what his brothers thought. My throat was tight, and I kept my eyes squeezed shut until I could get hold of my emotions.

He hugged me back, laughing a little at my enthusiasm. “It's good to see you, too.” He pulled away a little. “I heard you had an interesting time. . . .” And stopped when he saw my face, my lips tight as I fought to hold back tears. “You okay?”

I shook my head, unable to speak.

He gestured to Luis and Cordero, pointing at the kitchen cupboards. “Go ahead and get it yourselves. But just one bowl each, okay?”

“ 'Kay!” The boys ran to open the cabinets, and Arnaldo led me into the living room.

We sank onto the sofa and I started to weep. Huge, heaving, ugly sobs wrenched themselves out of me in convulsive waves. Arnaldo just put his arms around me again and let me cry. Eventually, the convulsions ebbed, and he got up to find a box of tissues. As I blew my nose, I started talking, about freeing the tiger-shifters and how it felt to leave them behind, about Lazar and Caleb quarreling, fighting, hating each other, and about how my biological father was a tyrant, a monster.

“She asked me to help her overthrow him,” I said, grabbing another tissue to wipe at my eyes. “Khutulun, my biological mother. God, I look so much like her, Arnaldo. It scares me. I kept staring at her thinking—is that me? Is that who I have to become? And she said I had to stay, that I could make things better there. She was relying on me. But then, when Orgoli attacked, she barely stood up to him. She ran away at the first sign of trouble and left me. I knew I didn't stand a chance against him, but I bit him, and his blood . . .”

I paused, glancing up at his patient brown eyes, staring at me with intense attention. “I'm going to sound like a vampire or something, but his blood was like the other Amba blood times a hundred. Just a taste of it and I felt like I could rule the world. I wanted more. I almost didn't make it back because I was too busy having these crazy dreams of taking over Othersphere and making everyone there stop fighting and behave themselves.” I took a breath. “Do I sound like a crazy person?”

Arnaldo shook his head, smiling a little. “No more than usual.”

I laughed a little with relief.

“When it comes to Caleb and Lazar, I wish I could be more help,” he said. “That's not something anyone else can tell you—how you feel. Caleb pretends he's over you, but that's so obviously not true.”

“Really?” My voice was very small.

Arnaldo rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. He protests way too much. And Lazar's pretty obvious, so you don't need me to tell you about that. You're probably going to have to make a choice,” he said. “Which sucks, because someone's going to get hurt.”

“I hate hurting people,” I said.

“Well,” Arnaldo appeared to ponder something. “I don't think Lazar could handle a polygamous thing. You know, you having two boyfriends. Or three.” As I broke out laughing, he smiled and kept talking. “Caleb—maybe. He's been around, seen the world. But Lazar's got that whole conservative upbringing to overcome.”

I leaned back on the couch cushions, giggling at the ridiculousness of it. “Oh, God, it feels good to laugh.”

Arnaldo's grin subsided as he thought further. “Here's the thing I've learned,” he said. “People need a leader when they go into battle or conflict. You've done that for our group for a while now, and you're good at it. That kind of thing needs someone in charge, someone making the decisions. If we all sat around discussing every little move we made during a raid on the Tribunal, we'd never get out the door.”

“But?” I asked. I knew there was more coming.

“But there's a different kind of leadership. I mean, what you really want is for everyone to be safe, and happy, and loved, right?” He smiled. “That's why you were tempted to fight Orgoli. You said you want to use his power to force everyone to behave the way they should. For the tiger-shifters to be free, for your biological parents to love you, for Caleb and Lazar to shut up and get along. You want all of us to treat each other kindly, to be a family.

“I totally get it, because that's what I want for Luis and Cordero. Sometimes I order them to stop hitting each other, or I send them to their rooms. And sure, that's okay when it's called for. But really I mostly just need to show them I love them, that I respect them. Tyrants and dictators can't order people to love and respect each other. You could be a tiger as big as the world and eat up everyone who opposes you, but that won't make people act like a family. It'll just leave you all alone at the end.” He shrugged. “Where's the fun in that?”

A fragile understanding was creeping over me. I sat very still, trying not to disturb it.

“The good news is that no matter what your mom said when she tried to make you come home, you know she loves you. That's not going to change.”

“No,” I said. “That won't change.” I looked at Arnaldo again, leaning back against the brown couch cushions in his jeans and worn sweater, all long angular arms and legs, a boy who had stepped in to take care of his brothers when his father couldn't be a parent. That was real strength, the kind that mattered.

“Thanks,” I said. “I think that helped.”

“Oh, good!” He leaned forward, grinning. “Because half the time I have no idea what I'm doing or saying, you know? We're all just fumbling along, trying to make the best of things.”

“You fumble along better than most of us,” I said.

“I'm not so sure.” His face took on a worried cast, his thin lips pressed tightly together in thought. “My dad's lawyer, that hawk-shifter who sits on the North American Shifter Council? I talked to him this morning about a few things, and he told me where the big council meeting is taking place tonight.”

“Oh.” I didn't say more. I didn't want to push him to tell me where it was. But suddenly, more than anything, I thought that we all needed to be there. The future of the otherkin depended on what happened in that meeting, and my friends all deserved to be a part of it.

“It's happening in the Sierra Nevada mountains, about four hours' drive from here,” Arnaldo said.

“Oh, sorry.” Lazar had walked in, with Amaris and London close behind. They were unzipping their jackets, cheeks flushed from being out in the cold.

“Did I miss a morning class?” I asked.

“Just tracking in the snow,” Amaris said, taking off her gloves. “Morfael said not to disturb you. It was mostly catch-up for me and Lazar, since we don't have extra sensitive noses or hearing like you and London.”

“But I went along anyway,” London said, and took Amaris by the hand.

Amaris smiled and pulled London's hand to her heart. Their eyes met. “I don't want her to be too far away just yet,” Amaris said. To London, she added, “I feel safer with you there.”

A huge grin was taking over my face. Lazar looked down, as if to give them some privacy, but he also looked a little uncomfortable. The warmth between the girls was palpable. They were just holding hands, but the way they looked at each other spoke of something much deeper and more intimate.

London's electric blue eyes shot over toward me shyly. She wasn't used to being openly affectionate with anyone in public. But I was happy to see she didn't let go of Amaris's hand. “Want some cocoa? I'm making some.”

I shook my head. “No, thanks. You guys go ahead.”

Amaris tugged on her, and they vanished down the hallway toward the kitchen. November wasn't here to do it, so I waggled my eyebrows at Arnaldo the way she would have.

He exhaled a laugh and said, “Finally, right?”

“How are you, Dez?” Lazar asked, taking a tentative step toward me. “Did you sleep well?”

“I'm okay.” Feeling a little weird around him, I gestured at his arm, which no longer had a bulky, blood-soaked bandage wrapped around it. “Did Amaris heal you?”

“Yeah, all better.” Lazar hesitated, his eyes darting over to Arnaldo.

There was an awkward pause.

Arnaldo's eyes zoomed back and forth between us, until, with a smothered smile, he got off the couch. “I'd better make sure Luis and Cordero aren't eating everything in the fridge.”

As soon as he walked out of the room, Lazar crossed the open space between us. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I overreacted yesterday. I see that now.”

“Thanks,” I said. It was a relief to talk about it. “There was a lot going on, for all of us.”

He nodded and sat next to me, looking down so that his dark blond eyelashes brushed his slightly tan cheeks. “I could see that you were different there. You were . . . magnificent.”

My heart jolted in my chest. I couldn't speak.

“Not that you aren't amazing here, too.” His lips, plusher than Caleb's, lifted in a self-deprecating half-smile. “But it was scary to see that you might belong somewhere that I didn't. I was afraid I'd lose you. That's why I acted the way I did.” He lifted his eyes to mine, not smiling. “But Caleb was right. It's not up to me to decide where you belong, or who you belong with.”

I put a hand on his arm. “You did it because you care. And you're probably right about my biological mother. She sure turned tail and fled fast when things got tough.”

He put his warm hand over mine. “I just don't want to make your life any more difficult or get in your way.”

“Are you crazy? You've helped me these last few weeks more than I ever thought possible.” I scooched closer to him, so that our heads were inches apart. “Please keep getting in my way. I like it.”

He leaned his forehead against mine, his shoulders relaxing. “Will do.”

“Are you a little uncomfortable with what's going on between Amaris and London?” I asked, keeping my voice very low.

He leaned back, eyeing me with appreciation and chagrin. “Do you think Amaris noticed?”

“I think she's too happy and grateful to notice anything other than London's big blue eyes,” I said. “You want your sister to be happy, don't you?”

“Of course.” He looked down at our intertwined hands. “Some of it is the strangeness of seeing my sister be in a relationship with anyone. This is her first.”

“Sure,” I said. “And?”

He took a deep breath, exhaling in a sigh. “I was raised by a terrible man, who taught me to judge and kill and hate. He said such relationships were an abomination, sinful. And I know he's wrong. I see how happy Amaris is and I feel in my heart how wrong he was. But . . .” He couldn't finish.