The Shadows of Night (15 page)

“We need her,” he said.
 
“If we can take one of them prisoner, we may be able to force her to explain how it works, so that we can figure out how to create fangs of our own.
 
It’s the best hope for both our peoples.”

The lioness took a step forward, looming over Hart threateningly, her ivory fangs only inches from his face.
 
He lifted his chin and stared at her.
 
He must surely be afraid, but it didn’t show.

“Do you want to see more of your people lying dead on the ground?” he demanded.

The lioness hesitated,
then
her fur began to ripple.
 
A second later she stood before Hart, glaring down at him.
 
Her father remained in his lion form and looked up at both of them, growling.

“My people do not take prisoners,” Katara’s mother said.
 
“There is no honor in it.”

“There may not be any honor in it, but it is the best option in this situation.
 
Surely you realize we can’t stand against this—this flying fang.”

The woman hesitated.
 
Katara saw a movement behind Hart.
 
The black wolf was bleeding from several slash wounds, but she visibly gathered her strength, rolled over, and lunged for him, naked and defenseless though he was.
 

But Katara was faster.
 
She leapt forward and slashed at the wolf’s hind leg with her claws, cutting the tendon deeply.
 
The wolf collapsed to the ground with a yelp, rolling over onto her back, and Katara pinned the wolf on the ground again, growling.

Hart turned and looked at the wolf, lifting an eyebrow.
 
“Not that I think it would necessarily be a bad idea to kill her.”

The wolf whined.

“Typical,” the woman said.
 
“They have no honor.
 
You, on the other hand…”
 
She looked approvingly at Hart, who had risen to his feet and stood with no show of fear, mere inches from the black-maned lion.
 
“There is more to you than I had expected.
 
Perhaps I have misjudged your people.”

Hart inclined his head to her.
 
“I am certain that I have misjudged yours.
 
But that is in the past.
 
I know better now, and I will not allow my prejudices to blind me to the virtues of your people again.”

The lion shifted into human form.
 
Katara looked up at her beloved father, his hair as long and black as it was in his lion form.
 
His face was more weathered and lined than she recalled, his features slack with sorrow and anger, but she was relieved to see he looked as strong and vital as ever.
 
Although the Claw
were
a solitary people, they nevertheless had strong family ties.

“How do you suggest we keep her captive?” he asked in his deep voice.

The wolf’s black fur
rippled,
and Katara found herself standing above a small woman with short, spiky black hair and an angry expression on her lovely face.
 
Her leg was bleeding profusely from the gash Katara had given her, and there were other bite marks here and there, but she still managed to look defiant, despite being pinned to the ground by a growling leopard.
 

“My people will be back for me,” she informed them haughtily.

“Perhaps they will, although they left you behind readily enough.”
 
Hart stood up and looked down at her.
 
“But by the time they return, we’ll be gone.”
 
He bent and picked up the wooden device.
 
“And we’ll have this.”

A whooshing noise was their only warning.
 
With the reflexes that allowed his Kindred to avoid predators, Hart flung himself to the ground, and a flying fang embedded itself into a tree trunk just behind him.
 

Katara’s father shifted into lion form and bounded in the direction from which the arrow had come.
 
“Go back to the longhouse!” Katara’s mother snapped, then shifted and followed her mate.
 
There was a crashing in the underbrush, which rapidly receded.

Hart came to his knees and grasped the fallen Fang by the arms, dragging her into the woods. Katara picked up the wood and sinew implement in her mouth and followed him. Once they were in the cover of the trees, Hart started to gather the fallen Fang into his arms, but she instantly shifted, leaving him with an armful of very angry wolf.
 
She snapped at his bicep, and only his quick reflexes saved him from an ugly bite.
 
He dropped her onto the leaf-littered ground, less than gently, and she yelped again.

Hart looked at Katara, clearly perplexed.
 
Katara understood his problem—the Antler Kindred were not in the habit of taking carnivores prisoners.
 
They had only managed to imprison her because she had been unconscious.
 
They didn’t even keep tame animals as the Fang did, so he was naturally unsure how to proceed, especially without the collar that prevented shifting at his disposal.
 

Unable to speak in her feline form, she opened and closed her jaws, then nudged at the wooden implement.

Hart nodded slowly, looking at the strip of sinew that held the wood in a bent position.
 
“Not a bad idea,” he said.
 
“But I don’t want to break it.”

Katara shrugged her shoulders, as well as she could in leopard form, telling him as clearly as she could that it appeared to be their only option.

Hart’s big fingers worked rapidly at the implement.
 
He managed to get the sinew unlooped from the wood,
then
bent to wrap it around the wolf’s muzzle.
 
She snarled, showing her ivory teeth, and Katara placed a big paw on her neck, lowered her head, and growled a warning of her own.

The wolf fell silent, and Hart looped the sinew around her muzzle several times,
then
tied it behind her ears.

The wolf promptly shifted back to human form, but the sinew remained wrapped tightly enough around her jaw that she could barely open her mouth. Hart picked her up, flung her over his shoulder unceremoniously, and headed toward the longhouse, with Katara close behind, still in leopard form, in case the woman managed to struggle free of her bonds and shift again.

*****

Hart was relieved when Katara’s parents returned unscathed.
 
They reported that there had been five other wolves in the woods, and all of them had been killed, because they had panicked and run, rather than standing their ground and flinging their fangs.
 
Or perhaps they had run out of fangs.
 
Hart had no way of knowing, but he was heartened by the fact that the Fangs’ numbers had been reduced.
 
Unfortunately, the alpha male had not been among the wolves in the woods this time.
 

With any luck, they could make it back to Antler territory by morning, before more armed Fangs ventured out into the forest.
 
After much debate, Katara’s parents agreed to come to the Antler keep.
 
The four other members of their Pride were hunting and might not return for days, or even moons.
 

They recovered an intact fang from the body of one of the dead Claw, and found one of the wooden and sinew implements in the woods.
 
They would have to be carried by mouth, since they would all have to travel in animal form.

Hart couldn’t hope to keep up with the cats in human form, and he doubted he could carry the Fang that far as a human, anyway.
 
Even if he could, it would take him days to cover the distance.
 
Accordingly, he shifted to his stag form, and Katara and her parents tied the Fang onto his back with coarse rope from the safe house, so that even if she did shift into canine form, she’d be helpless to move.
 
In his animal form, it made him extremely nervous to have a predator tied to his back, but he managed to fight down the feeling of anxiety. He tried to heal her wounds as best as he could with the handheld regenerator, but within moments of setting out the woman went limp against his back, and he knew she’d passed out from the pain.

They traveled through the shifting shadows of the night, their path through the forest lit by both moons.
 
They were, Hart thought, a very unusual procession—representatives of all three of the Kindred traveling together.
 
Admittedly one was not traveling voluntarily, but this was nevertheless an unusual chapter in the history of their world.

As the sun rose, they emerged from the forest, seeing the silvery houses of the Antler village spread out before them.
 
Hart hesitated on the edge of the meadow and glanced in their direction.

Katara shifted to human form so she could speak.
 
“Perhaps it would be best if we all shift?”

Hart nodded his head.
 
If three
Claw
walked through the streets of the village in feline form, there would be terror and panic, leading to chaos.
 
It would be obvious to anyone who got close enough to smell them that they were Claw, but hopefully few people would be up and about so early.
 
And hopefully no one would take note of the curious implements the older Claw now held in their hands.

They walked down the main street of the town and arrived at the keep without incident, much to Hart’s relief.
 
The guards at the gate bowed their heads respectfully to Hart, recognizing him easily as a stag.
 
He had passed through this gate many times in deer form.

Suddenly the guards lifted their heads, obviously catching the scent of the Claw, and instantly shifted to stag form in an involuntary reaction.
 
They had been chosen for this post because of their size, and they were nearly as large as Hart, big, burly stags with branching antlers.
 

Hart lowered his head in a gesture that said,
These
people are under my protection.
 
Do not harm them.

The guards looked wide-eyed with terror, but determined.
 
They stepped in front of the gate, heads down, showing plainly that they would do their duty, no matter how frightened.
 
Lord or no lord, Hart had no authority to bring predators into the keep, and they well knew it.

At the sight of their antlers lowered in a threatening gesture, Katara’s parents shifted into their lion forms.

Hart would have groaned if he could have.
 
The situation was deteriorating rapidly, and he hadn’t even managed to get inside the keep yet.
 
He hated to think what would happen when he brought the Claw into an audience with his father.
 
He had a feeling claws would be bared, teeth shown, and antlers brandished.
 
He turned his head toward Katara, giving her a look that asked plainly for assistance.

Once again, she did not fail him.
 
Naked and unarmed, she stepped directly between the growling lions and the pawing stags, holding out her hands in a gesture that pleaded for peace.

“Do nothing yet,” she said to the stags.
 
“Give me a moment, and I will free your lord so that he may shift and speak to you.”

The stags lifted their heads slightly, showing that they would wait, although they kept a wary eye on the lions.

Katara stepped to Hart’s side and began to deftly untie the ropes.
 
Moments later the Fang slid to the ground.
 
Katara retied the ropes around her unconscious body while Hart changed form in order to speak.

“I bring these emissaries of the Claw to meet with my father about a mutual threat we must confront,” he said to the stags.
 
“Step aside and let us pass.”

They hesitated.
 
He knew they were only doing their job, that he had no right to bring predators inside the walls of the keep, and that they must be concerned he was being coerced somehow.
 
Yet he felt irritation flow through him, fueled by his exhaustion, and his skin rippled.
 
“Move aside!” he said, more sharply.

The guards attempted to shift back to human form, but clearly had difficulty doing so in the presence of their ancient enemies.
 
Their outlines kept blurring and rippling in a rather peculiar way.
 
Finally one of them managed to shift.

“Lord Hart,” he said, diffidently, “surely you cannot mean to allow Claw and Fang Kindred into the presence of the monarch?”

It was a reasonable question.
 
If by some chance the Claw had the intention of betraying them and killing the Antler monarch, he must not allow them to do so.
 
“The Fang will go into the medical chamber, both to heal her and to make certain she cannot escape,” he said.
 
“The Claw will be shown to a chamber and will await the monarch’s audience.”