Shift (15 page)

Those were all good signs. They hadn’t killed us because they’d made a promise to Calvin Malone, and they obviously didn’t want to hurt us. At least, not until or unless we hurt one of them. Or pissed them off.

So, what now? Did they plan to finish slaughtering our Pride, then simply let us go? Had they
already
slaughtered our Pride?

My pulse raced, and I couldn’t stop it. Sweat broke out on my forehead, in spite of the chilly room.

“Faythe? What’s wrong?” Kaci scooted to the edge of the bed, and the old mattress let out a long, grating squeal. She froze, but the damage was done. Her eyes went wide and panicked, and her lip began to tremble.

“It’s okay….” I crossed the room toward her, heedless of my own footsteps now; the nest itself was evidently holding up far better than the old furnishings. “We need to talk to them, anyway. We’re not doing any good just sitting here.”

Kaci bit her lip and blinked back tears. “You sure?”

“Totally.” Not that we could do anything about it if I weren’t.

From the hall came light, but obviously human, footsteps. Kaci’s hand gripped my good one, and every muscle in her body tensed. “Should we Shift?”

“I think it’s a little late for that. Besides, they might see it as an act of aggression.” The footsteps stopped outside our door, and the knob turned. “Don’t say anything unless I ask you something or give you a signal, okay?”

Kaci nodded as the door swung open.

The woman in the doorway was short, thick with muscle from the ribs up, and downright skinny from the waist down. She had a long, thin nose, almost nonexistent lips, and long, smooth dark hair—clearly her best feature. She was also completely nude.

Kaci flushed and looked away—she was raised among humans—and the bird-woman tossed a curious, head-tilted glance her way before focusing on me. “I am Brynn. Follow me.” That was it. No
please
, no smile, and not even a glance over her shoulder to make sure we obeyed.

But there was nothing else to do. We weren’t getting out through the window, and while our chances probably wouldn’t be much better in front of a room full of thunderbirds, they certainly couldn’t get any worse.

Our room was the last in a long second-story hall bordered on the left with nothing but a wooden rail, worn smooth by what could only have been generations of hands trailing over it. Beyond the rail, the floor ended, revealing the drop to a huge first-floor room where thunderbirds of all sizes and both genders mingled and lounged, in various stages of Shift. There must have been fifty of them. And I could hear even more moving around behind the many closed doors.

Our hallway wrapped around three sides of the building, and the two floors above were the same; we could see identical third- and fourth-floor railings across the large opening. The front of the building was a series of small glass panes built into the wall, forming a huge grid of windows. The effect was a stunning, patchwork view of a wooded mountainside. And at the bottom, near the center, stood a single door—the only entrance or exit we’d seen.

Kaci gasped, and I glanced down, then followed her gaze up. Way up.

Then I gasped, too.

The building was cavernous and could easily have fit at least three more floors, although none existed beyond the fourth. Instead, the empty space was crisscrossed with exposed beams, and ledges, and nooks, most occupied by one or more thunderbirds. Those on the beams were mostly in avian form, perched like blackbirds on a wire, while those resting on small nests of pillows and blankets on the many ledges looked more human. Some even held old, worn copies of books whose titles I couldn’t quite make out.

It was like nothing I’d ever seen. This wasn’t just a nest. It was a true aviary.

Brynn made an impatient noise at the back of her throat, and I forced my attention from the spectacle overhead and nudged Kaci. Then we followed her down an open flight of stairs to the huge room below.

Like the levels above, the first floor was surrounded on three sides by a series of doors, though they were farther apart on the ground floor. I was guessing the first-story rooms were the Flight’s common areas, like the kitchen, dining room, and maybe more living areas.

As we crossed through the center of the open area, I glanced through several of the open doors. Most were sparse bedrooms, a bit larger than the one we’d woken in. But the doorway to one corner room revealed a large, bright space full of old-fashioned toys—most of the handmade doll and wooden block variety—and the distinctive flickering light of a television.

We’d found the source of the Looney Tunes. And based on the scratchy, low-quality sound, I was guessing they had only worn VCR tapes, rather than DVDs.

My steps slowed as my curiosity grew, and as I walked, I saw more of the room. And its occupants. At a glance, I counted half a dozen small children, none yet old enough to attend school.

But age wasn’t the only thing keeping these kids out of the human educational system.

As I watched, a naked boy of maybe four years—the biggest in the room—shoved one chubby fist through a tower of brightly painted wooden blocks. The small girl who’d been stacking them—also nude, but for a cloth diaper—scowled so menacingly I half expected her to burst into flames.

Instead, she burst into feathers.

In a single, smooth motion almost too fast for me to understand, her arms lengthened and sprouted feathers. Her short hair receded into her head, and her naked scalp began to toughen, flush, and wrinkle, like the head of a vulture. Her thin legs withered until her calves were little more than sturdy sticks ending in tiny, sharp talons. And her hands curled into petite but obviously lethal wing-claws.

The whole thing took no more than two seconds and appeared completely spontaneous. I couldn’t stop staring.

The bird-girl tackled the larger boy, snapping her new beak at him and swiping with her claws, and when they fell, I got a look at the smaller children behind them. All four were quite a bit smaller. Toddlers, judging by their size. And they were all constantly Shifting.

Several arms were feathered, two with hands, one with claws. Two heads were bare and wrinkled, one had tangled dark hair, and the fourth was somewhere in between, patches of blond peach fuzz standing out on an almost bald avian skull. The children were continually in flux, and they obviously couldn’t control their small bodies.

No wonder thunderbirds removed themselves from human society so completely.

I stared, transfixed, until Brynn made another angry noise in her throat, and I jogged to catch up with her and Kaci, though the strange images remained painted on the backs of my eyelids.

But when Brynn came to a stop, I looked up, and all thoughts of odd, ever-Shifting children flew from my mind. There must have been thirty different thunderbirds seated or standing in the back half of the large room. And they were all staring at us.

K
aci’s cold hand slid into mine. Her lips were pressed into a thin, tight line and her jaw bulged, not with anger, but to keep her teeth from chattering, as they sometimes did when she got nervous. Her terrified, wide-eyed gaze flitted anxiously from bird to bird, as if she were looking for a friendly face.

But she wasn’t going to find one, other than mine. We were in this together—whatever “this” was.

“What is your name?”

My head whipped up and I glanced around, waiting for someone to step forward, or otherwise claim his or her question. But no one did, even when I stood silent for almost a full minute. In fact, the only reason I knew the speaker was addressing me was that no one was looking at Kaci.

When I didn’t answer, another voice called from above and I glanced up, but again failed to pinpoint the speaker. “Are you Mercedes Carreño or Faythe Sanders?”

Aah
. They knew I was one of the adults, but not which one.

“I’m Faythe. Who’s speaking, please? I’m getting a little dizzy trying to pinpoint you.” And frankly, I wasn’t sure where I should look. I didn’t want to accidently insult someone by misdirecting my attention.

“You are speaking with our Flight.”

Of course. I’d almost forgotten about the mob—I mean
Flight
—mentality. Fortunately, I actually saw the speaker that time, though she hadn’t asked either of the previous questions.

Another voice spoke from my far left. “You and the kitten will be delivered to Calvin Malone tomorrow….”

“What?! No!” I shouted, and Kaci clung to me, terrified. “You can’t do that. You have no idea what he wants with us!”

“We promised to remove you from danger and deliver you to him, and we will not go back on our word. We’re only letting you live because we’ve been assured that you and the kitten were not involved in the death of our cock.”

I turned and pinpointed an older male thunderbird with strong features and the typical top-heavy build. And nearly laughed aloud on the heels of his last word.

It’s not funny!
some horrified part of me insisted, from deep within my head.

But it
was
funny, in that scandalous way that inappropriate jokes are always irresistible at the most inopportune moments. Their Flight member was dead, they’d kidnapped us and were trying to kill the remaining members of our Pride, and this asshole sounded like a testimonial for Viagra!

For a moment, I couldn’t speak for fear of bursting into laughter, and it took all my self-control to kill the irreverent smile that my lips wanted to form. But then Kaci squeezed my hand again, and the look of pure terror on her face sobered me instantly.

I cleared my throat. “That’s right. We had nothing to do with it. But neither did anyone else in our Pride. Malone only told you that…”

“We’re not interested in discussing Finn’s death with you….”

“Well, you should be!” I shouted—and immediately regretted it when a series of soft whoosh sounds and heavy thumps told me more birds had landed behind me from the overhead perches.

My pulse raced fast enough to make my head spin, and I barely resisted the urge to turn and face the new combatants. I was surrounded by the enemy, and my fight-or-flight instinct demanded that I make a choice. But neither of those options led to survival—I was sure of that.

“Look, I’m sorry. But this is the truth, and it’s important. Calvin Malone lied to you, for his own gain. My Pride isn’t responsible for your…Finn’s death. One of Malone’s men is.”

I’d expected to be interrupted, but I could tell by the universal, uneasy shift in posture that I’d caught their collective attention with the word
lied
.

“Why would Calvin Malone compromise his honor with a lie?” The speaker still looked skeptical, but was obviously willing to listen.

My mood brightened instantly. They were going to let me talk.

“First of all, he has no honor. But he has plenty of greed and he is hungry for power.” Lots of confused expressions and eerily tilted heads met my declaration, but I rushed on before anyone could interrupt, my left arm around Kaci. “And second of all, I just gave you the reason—for his own personal gain.”

There was an odd silence as the birds glanced back and forth at one another in quick, sharp movements, clearly conferring silently through expressions I couldn’t interpret. I glanced down at Kaci to see her watching our captors in both fascination and fear, and I was relieved to see the latter winning out.

A tabby with enough curiosity to override her fear—aka: common sense—would turn out like me, and mine was not a life I wanted for Kaci. At least not until she’d matured enough to balance her mouth with a bit of wisdom. Or at least experience. I’d learned my lessons the hard way, and I would spare her that, if I could.

Finally, I looked up to see the birds all watching me, and the next voice came from behind me, so I turned again. “We will hear you speak on this matter. But we have no tolerance for ruses. If you transform, we will be forced to incapacitate you.”

“No problem.” I’d never put myself at their mercy long enough to “transform,” anyway. My fastest full Shift ever took nearly a minute, and even if I could do it again, that was plenty of time for them to rip me from limb to limb, considering how incredibly fast
they
changed form.

Oh
. And that’s when I understood. They thought werecats could Shift the same way they could. Instantaneously. Miraculously.

I briefly considered explaining the truth, to make myself look less threatening and set them at ease. But in the end, I decided they were more likely to respect me if they felt just a little threatened by me. Right? That approach usually worked with toms, anyway….

“Speak,” an elder female bird commanded, from near the windows on my left. So I spoke, fully aware that the safety of my entire Pride rested on me in that moment. Assuming I wasn’t already too late to help them. And I had no reason to believe the birds would have told me if I were.

“Malone is running against my father for a position of leadership within our Territorial Council. But Malone doesn’t fight fair.” I glanced around, trying to make sure everyone was listening, but though the faces were different—and in various stages of mid-Shift—their expressions were all the same. They looked frustrated, angry, and impatient. “Anyway, according to a source of mine—a werecat in Malone’s Pride—last week one of Malone’s enforcers killed one of your…cocks in a dispute over a kill and feeding rights.”

Several of the expressions hardened, and I spoke faster as my pulse raced; I was desperate to finish before someone cut me off. “I’m not saying your bird was necessarily the one at fault. Our two species have different laws, and I’m not qualified to sort that particular issue out. But what I am sure of is that Finn’s killer does not, nor has he ever, belonged to my Pride.”

“What does Calvin Malone stand to gain from misleading us?” another male bird asked from behind me, and that time I didn’t turn. It didn’t seem to matter which one of them I faced; I was speaking to them all, as unnerving as that concept was.

It’s like the tribunal
, I told myself, grasping for something familiar.
Everyone gets an equal vote
. Unfortunately, that made the whole thing feel a little too familiar—the majority of the tribunal had wanted me dead.

“He’s gaining three things,” I said, fighting to project confidence and authority. “First of all—me and Kaci. He’s convinced you to remove us and turn us over to him, because in our world, he who controls the tabbies controls the toms. There are only a few female werecats of childbearing age in the entire country, and Malone wants us both married off to his sons, so he can keep all the power in his family. Thus under his thumbs. He tried to force me into a marriage I didn’t want a couple of months ago, through political means, and when that didn’t work, he resorted to brute force with Kaci.”

“How so?” some nameless, faceless bird called out from behind us, and Kaci cringed against my side as all eyes turned her way for the first time.

“He snuck onto our property and tried to kidnap her.”

A couple of the birds—mostly the women—looked upset, if I was reading half-avian expressions correctly. But most of them just looked confused. They didn’t know enough about our culture to understand why Malone would resort to violence over a potential daughter-in-law. So I moved on to point number two.

“Second of all, he now has you fighting his battle for him. You’re weakening our offensive capabilities while we’re on the verge of a very well-justified fight against Malone.”

“How is your fight justified?” an exceptionally scratchy, gender-neutral voice asked from behind me and to my right. I gritted my teeth to keep from groaning in frustration as I resisted the urge to turn and search for the speaker yet again.

“One of his cats killed my brother almost two weeks ago, when they came after Kaci. Malone knows an attack is imminent. But this way, we bring fewer, weaker forces to the fight. Thanks to you guys.”

To my horror, several of the birds were nodding, not merely in understanding, but in admiration! They approved of Malone’s underhanded strategy! The bastards!

But even I had to agree that it was effective, if unconscionable.

“And in the third place, he’s deflected both the blame and the consequence for Finn’s death away from him. Which means his forces remain safe from your rage, thus intact. And you’re not getting the justice Finn deserves, because while you’re fighting us, the real killer is literally getting away with murder. In Malone’s Pride.”

Now
they were frowning….

A throat cleared to my far right, and my head swiveled so fast and hard I heard one of my own vertebrae pop. My focus snagged on a single dark beak as it Shifted almost instantly into the creased lips and chin of the oldest thunderbird I’d seen yet. She had thick white hair halfway down her back, and her hands were even more wrinkled than her face, but her eyes shone with shrewd intelligence.

“You insist that Calvin Malone is willing to compromise his honor for success in war. What evidence can you give us that you are not, in fact, doing that very thing?”

Why did they always use his full name? Did they think that was how all humans addressed one another? By both names? Or did they run the whole thing together in their minds, as if it were all one word? Like their own names…

“You’re asking why you should believe me instead of him?” My heart thudded in my ears when she nodded. I’d never delivered a more important argument than the one I was about to launch. Never before had so many lives depended on what I said next.

No pressure, Faythe
…

“You should believe me because I stand to gain nothing from this except what we had before Malone interfered—the peace to assemble our troops in private and avenge my brother’s murder. I’m not asking you to attack my Pride’s enemies for us. Or to kidnap and deliver any members of his Pride to give us a political edge. Or to give up justice for your own dead by launching an attack against the wrong people. But Malone asked for all of that. He used you. Hell, he’s probably laughing at you right now.”

Okay, he was probably too busy plotting our destruction to literally laugh about the wool he’d pulled over the Flight’s eyes, but my point stood. They’d been played.

And finally, they looked mad.

“If you’re telling the truth, Calvin Malone must pay for his deception,” a disembodied voice called from overhead.

My brows rose, but I didn’t bother glancing up. “
If
I’m telling the truth?”

“We can no longer trust the unsubstantiated word of a werecat.” This statement came from my left, from a young female bird, whose dark-browed scowl was genuinely scary. “You will bring us proof.”

Proof. Shit. If I had that, all our problems would be over! “You didn’t ask Malone for proof….”

“We are disinclined to repeat our mistake.”

Another scratchy voice spoke up, but I whirled too late to catch the speaker. “You will bring us evidence in two days.”

Two days! I glanced desperately from one impassive face to the next. “My whole Pride could be dead by then!” Though hopefully they’d take the thunderbird contingent with them. “You have to call a ceasefire.”

“No.” Short, simple, and spoken by the bird who’d begun this whole weird interrogation. “We will not stop the attack without proof that your people are innocent.”

A growl began deep in my throat, and it took me a long moment to contain it. “If you don’t call a ceasefire, I have no reason to go looking for your proof. What would I have to go home to?”

For a moment, there was more silence, as the birds conferred, cocking their heads at one another, and glancing from face to face. And finally they seemed to reach a mute consensus. “We will halt the attack against your Pride until you return with your proof. In two days.”

Relief surged through me, cool compared to the flames of fear and anger licking at my heart. I’d bought time for the rest of my Pride—assuming they hadn’t already launched their offensive. But my relief was short-lived.

“What kind of proof? And how the hell am I supposed to get it? I don’t suppose you have a car I could borrow?” Otherwise, it could take me two days to climb down their damned mountain and find the nearest form of public transportation.

“No. How you get this proof is not our concern, and we don’t care what form it takes, so long as it is irrefutable.”

Great. And staggeringly vague. “Well, then, I guess we should get going. We’re burning time.”

“The child stays,” said a firm, deep voice from behind me, and that time not only did I turn, but I turned Kaci with me.

“No. She goes with me, or I won’t go.”

A new voice joined the argument, from overhead again. “You will go alone, and be back in two days, or we will kill the child.”