Shifter Planet (31 page)

Chapter Forty-Eight

R
hodry followed Padraic Vaquero toward the palace, feeling the binds of civilization tightening around him. For all its dangers, his time in the forest with Amanda had been a welcome interlude. Already he could feel the suffocating hostility of the Ardrigh’s court, the circling of old enmity.

Walking next to him, Fionn gave a mock bow to a group of women as they passed. The women giggled flirtatiously, and he tried to imagine Amanda standing around dressed and pampered within an inch of her life, having nothing better to do than flirt with passing shifters. Instead, he got a picture as he’d last seen her, angry with him, hurt even, because he’d tried to protect her, to keep her away from the attack he’d known was coming.

And what was wrong with that? He’d been raised to respect people with skills other than his own, taught to protect them as well, those who were weaker, less— He tripped on his own thought. Amanda wasn’t less of anything, was she? She’d saved his life on the glacier, and who knew what might have happened just now if she hadn’t been there to take out those two norms with their deadly plasma rifle. She had both the courage and the skills to match his own, as well as other abilities he’d never had to develop, relying instead on his physical prowess.

Certainly he was stronger than she was, because he was stronger than most people he knew, both norm and shifter. It was a simple matter of physical size and muscle mass, and he’d been born with that, it was hardly to his credit.

So, then maybe you shouldn’t have treated her like one of those pampered females.
He scowled at his own thoughts. He’d make it up to her later, after all of this was over. She was angry, so he’d talk to her. She’d understand. Wouldn’t she? He thought about Fionn with his easy charm and good looks. Fionn who—

“If you please, Fionn,” Padraic reprimanded over his shoulder, drawing both Fionn and Rhodry’s attention back to the task at hand. Desmond Serna and Kane Daly, the two shifters who’d tried to kill Rhodry,
twice
, were walking just ahead, sandwiched between Padraic in the lead and Rhodry and Fionn behind. They were both worse for the wear, still visibly wounded and worn from carrying their injured norm allies back to the Guild Hall.

The norms had been given first aid, then sent on to the hospital with shifter guards and orders that no one was to see them until the Ardrigh or Padraic himself sent word. They’d complained loudly to anyone who would listen, though none of the shifters had given their whining much credence.

Daly and Serna walked with their heads down, feet dragging, and Rhodry could almost pity them. He’d favored shifting and going around through the forest over this public parade on the streets. Padraic had overruled him, saying it would be too easy for the prisoners to slip away among the trees. He wasn’t sure he agreed with that, doubting the two could have escaped in their current sad condition, and with so many healthy shifters on their trail. He wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d tried anyway. There would be no good outcome for them from this affair.

Of course, since he’d been the object of their treachery, and since Amanda could have been killed in the course of it, whatever pity he felt was short-lived.

The palace loomed ahead, and he wished Padraic had at least permitted them to wash up before rushing over here. They were dressed at least, wearing typical loose shifter clothing with soft boots on their feet—Padraic had allowed that much, laughing at the idea of five naked shifters strolling through the city streets. Rhodry would have preferred to appear before his Ardrigh bathed and dressed. It was a matter of respect.

“Don’t worry about it, de Mendoza,” Fionn said in a low voice. “Everyone will be so shocked to see you alive, they won’t even notice what we’re wearing.”

He looked over in surprise, not expecting any kind of empathy from Fionn. At that moment, the doors of the palace swung wide and a gust of perfumed air rushed out. He and Fionn exchanged identical grimaces of distaste, and Fionn laughed suddenly, reaching out to clap a hand on Rhodry’s shoulder.

“Give me a bloody fight any day,” he said softly.

Rhodry felt an answering grin tugging at his lips and was startled to discover he was feeling something close to friendship for the Ardrigh’s heir. He opened his mouth to agree, then spun around as a roar echoed down the hallway, a roar that resolved itself into his name.

“Rhodry, damn you!” Devlin cousins swarmed down the hallway to surround him, an unstoppable tide of meat and muscle. If the de Mendozas had a lack of male shifter offspring, the Devlins suffered no such shortage. The hallway was packed nearly wall to wall with his shifter cousins, every one of them well over six foot and solid as a tree trunk. He grinned as Cullen, his youngest cousin and a giant even among Devlins, crushed him in a bear hug that lifted him off his feet and threatened to steal the breath from his body, until a pair of massive fists crashed against Cullen’s back, breaking his hold and yanking him away.

“Let go of him, you great oaf, we’ve just got him back and you’re squeezing the life out of him!” Aidan Devlin pushed the young giant away, his blue eyes suspiciously wet as he embraced Rhodry in a bear hug of his own. “We thought you were dead, Rhodi,” he whispered, as Rhodry returned the embrace. “They told us you were dead.”

“Now, Aidan, don’t go all maudlin on us.” Aidan was yanked away in turn, replaced with yet another Devlin giant. “We never believed a word of it, did we, lads?” Gabriel, oldest by three years and thus in charge of the current Devlin crowd, did his best to crush what little breath Rhodry had left, then backed off and grabbed his shoulders hard enough to hurt. “Give us a target, Rhodi,” he whispered fiercely, all signs of the crude mountain accent suddenly gone. “Give us a target and they’re dead. No one fucks with a Devlin.”

Padraic waded in, shoving Devlin cousins out of the way like a pack of unruly kittens, despite their greater size. “There’ll be no payback taken, Gabriel,” he growled, not needing to hear the words to know what had been said. “Not from any of you.” He glared all around, including each of them in his warning. “Rhodry’s on his way to see the Ardrigh who’ll listen to what he has to say and take whatever action’s needed. We’ll have no private vengeance. There’s been enough of that.”

That set off a low growl of disagreement from the Devlins, until Aidan stepped into the breach. “He’s right, lads,” he said, resting a lighter hand on Rhodry’s shoulder. “We’ve got our Rhodi back. Let justice take its course. For now,” he added with a dark look at Padraic. “You’ll understand if we’re a mite…anxious, Padraic? What with Rhodry here being dead and all?”

Padraic frowned, then nodded his head sharply. “I can see it, Aidan. As long as you and Gabe keep these boys in line. Don’t make me do it.”

Aidan was the most even-tempered of men, and even he bristled at the guard captain’s words. Sensing disaster in the making, Rhodry threw an arm each around Aidan and Cullen, which was not an easy thing to do. He’d swear his younger cousin got bigger every time he saw him. Emotion swelled and he coughed before he embarrassed himself with an unseemly display.

“I’ve missed you, lads,” he said gruffly, letting his eyes roam from cousin to cousin. He hadn’t realized until this moment how very alone he’d felt over the few months without a single Devlin face for company.

“Now, Rhodi,” Gabriel joked, “don’t embarrass us.” He rubbed at his own eyes surreptitiously. “You go on, talk to the Ardrigh. Aidan, you go with him while I ride herd on this bunch. Don’t want to bloody these fine marble floors, do we?” He gave Rhodry a slight push. “We’ll be waiting right here, lad. We’ll not be leaving you alone again.”

Padraic looked like he wanted to argue about Aidan coming along, at least until he shot a sudden look down the hall to where Fionn was herding the two accused shifters ahead of him. Rhodry had a pretty good idea of what Padraic was thinking. If the Devlins realized those two were the ones who’d tried to kill him, there’d be no stopping them. Easier by far to let Aidan come along before that happened.

Padraic gave him a grim look and hustled after Fionn, leaving him to follow with his lone cousin for escort.

“So what’ve we got here, Rhodi,” Aidan murmured as they walked. He nodded at the two captive shifters shuffling ahead of them. “Des and his buddy there—they the ones?”

It was no surprise to him that Aidan had known what was going on, and had kept his mouth shut. He was always two steps ahead of everyone else, and he’d wanted to avoid a battle in the Ardrigh’s palace.

He slung a companionable arm over Aidan’s shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially. “It’s been a long few weeks, cousin. Let’s get to the Ardrigh, and I’ll tell the story once for everyone.”

Aidan gave a quiet nod. “For now, lad. Like I said, we’ll give ’em a chance to do the right thing.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

A
fter weeks of subsistence living in the rough, Amanda managed to down only one thick slice of bread, well slathered with fruit preserves, before she felt full to bursting. Unable to eat anything else, she settled instead for the simple enjoyment of hot tea with honey, and the pleasure of sitting in a clean kitchen and drinking from a well-made ceramic mug rather than sharing a battered canteen cup with Rhodry. Though she wouldn’t have minded the sharing part.

It had all seemed so easy out in the forest, with just the two of them and everything else so far away.

She drank down the last of her tea, washed her dishes quickly, and placed them in the drying rack on the counter. Glancing out the window over the sink, she saw young Tiegan loping back into the yard, his slim cat form emerging like some sort of fey creature from the shadows beneath the trees. He had obviously circled around the town, going through the forest to get to the palace. It was faster than walking the streets, and more fun for a young shifter.

He stopped short of the porch and shifted back to human, the process nowhere near as effortless as when Rhodry or Fionn did it. He was still panting a bit when he pulled on his trousers and, when he saw her watching, was young enough to blush with embarrassment.

She smiled and turned away, not wanting to discomfit the youngster any further. She still felt a little guilty over the scare Rhodry had given him, until the ache over her kidney reminded her it hadn’t been fun and games for her either.

She heard Tiegan come through the door, and busied herself washing and drying her hands, waiting until his footsteps had passed into the main room, before turning to follow him. He went directly to his grandfather, Orrin, who was sitting on one of several huge sofas, deep in serious conversation with Evan Graham, who must have arrived through the other door while she was in the kitchen. The Guild Hall’s ledger, the old-fashioned paperbound book that listed every shifter who had ever been a member of the Guild—as well as those candidates who had tried and failed—sat open on the table in front of them. The ceramic jar, once again capped and with its incriminating stones out of sight, stood next to it.

Evan Graham looked up when she stepped into the doorway, and while still listening to what Orrin was saying, acknowledged her with a short nod before returning his full attention to his fellow judge. Tiegan stood in front of them, dancing from foot to foot in youthful impatience.

Orrin looked up finally, and the young shifter bent forward to deliver his message. Orrin nodded at whatever was said, glanced at Graham, then stood and walked over to her. While she’d been sitting in the kitchen, the big room had almost emptied out. Most of the shifters had drifted away, probably back to their own lodging or out into the forest to wait. Those who remained straightened attentively as Orrin approached her, and one or two streaked out the door, obviously intent on getting the word out to the others that the fun was about to begin.

She stood in the kitchen doorway, the towel she’d used to dry her hands knotted around her fingers as she forced them to remain still. She’d done what she could for her appearance, washing her face and hands, running wet fingers through her filthy hair and re-braiding it neatly. There was nothing she could do about her worn and dirty clothes, or her many cuts and scrapes.

She told herself it didn’t matter. But it did. She was the lone woman in a room full of powerful men, and she looked like something a banshee had dropped half eaten from a tree.

“Amanda,” Orrin said, drawing her attention. “Padraic has sent word from the palace, suggesting we proceed with your testimony and judgment. De Mendoza and Fionn are with the Ardrigh and, I suspect, relating much the same tale as you have for us.”

“Most of it,” she agreed. “Though I was out alone for a couple of days before I found Rhodry.”

“Found him?” Orrin raised his eyebrows in surprise, then shook his head with a tight smile. “Never mind. We’ll wait until everyone’s assembled. I’m sure you’d prefer to tell it once and get it over with.”

She looked up at him. “I would, thank you. Um, Orrin? How do we do this? I mean, I’m not sure…”

Orrin gave her a full grin. “We don’t stand much on ceremony here at the Guild. You’ll tell your story, and the floor will open to questions. Some will honestly dispute your claim, others will argue simply because it’s in a shifter’s nature to be fractious.” He shrugged. “De Mendoza’s corroboration won’t hurt. He is well respected in the Guild, even by his enemies.”

Orrin paused to look around the Guild Hall. “I think we can begin.”

The room had filled with shifters in the short time she’d been talking to Orrin, more now than when she’d first arrived, and most of them in human form.

Easier to argue against me that way
.

Evan Graham began the proceedings. “Candidate Amanda Sumner has returned to the Hall from her trial,” he said loudly. The room quieted at once. “Are there any who would dispute her right to join our Guild?”

She looked at him in surprise. Apparently they weren’t going to begin with a recitation of her ordeal, after all.

“I’ll dispute it,” someone called from high up on the mezzanine. She recognized the voice, and looked up anyway to find that bastard Nando staring down at her with hard eyes. How had she missed his hostility toward her all this time? Was she that blind? Or had Nando only pretended to like her because of Fionn?

“Nando,” Orrin said, feigning surprise. “You were on candidate Sumner’s escort, weren’t you?”

“I was.”

“She is here and alive, which would seem to prove her fitness. Unless you’re saying that you did not deliver her darkward as required?”

Her stomach tightened as she shot a quick glance at Orrin. He didn’t look back, didn’t look at anyone. He was pretending to be concerned with something in the ledger in front of him, his hands busy turning pages. Rhodry must have said something on his way through earlier, must have told Orrin that her escort had dropped her out on the glacier. Maybe the judges were waiting for Nando and the others to incriminate themselves.

She swung her attention back to Nando who was standing on the second floor mezzanine, his hands gripping the thick wood railing, his expression perfectly still. He was an ass, but he wasn’t stupid. He saw the trap in the question. Amanda wondered how he would manage to answer truthfully without incriminating himself.

“We took her darkward,” he said.

“Where precisely?” Orrin pushed, his eyes now raised to Nando, reflecting only mild curiosity.

To his credit, Nando stood his ground. He glared back at Orrin with a low growl rumbling in his powerful chest, and didn’t say a word.

“Evan,” Orrin said, without taking his gaze off Nando. “Would you pour the stones, please?”

The unexpected request elicited a wave of murmured speculation from the gathered shifters. She glanced around the room, noting who was surprised, and who wasn’t. She heard the slight scrape as Evan lifted the lid, followed by the clatter of stone on wood as the jar’s contents were spilled onto the wide table. The sight of all those black stones set off a storm of reaction, and it did her heart good to see that most of the shifters around her were as shocked and angry as Orrin had been earlier.

“Beyond the Verge, Nando?” Orrin asked softly.

Nando tried to bluff it out, knowing it would be her word against his and the other three shifters of her escort.

“Is that what she’s claiming?” he scoffed. “That would’ve put her nearly on the glacier. I doubt she’d be standing here if that was the case.”

Her heart beat a little faster as the moment she’d been waiting for was suddenly upon her. All those hours and days of lugging that damn ice bear pelt around with her were finally going to pay off. Everyone watched curiously as she bent down and pulled her backpack out from under the table where Orrin had stashed it. There were a few impatient mutters as she untied her heavy cloak from where it hung in a neat bundle at the pack’s bottom edge. The leather ties were stiff, and her fingers were sore, so it took longer than it should have. Eventually the last knot pulled free. She grabbed one end of the heavy material and gave it a jerk. The cloak, and the dirty, white pelt contained within, unrolled onto the floor.

The first reaction was the dead silence of stunned surprise, followed by scattered applause, and more than a few shouts of encouragement. Amanda’s attention was only for Nando who stared down at her with bitter disappointment. He knew she’d been dumped half sick with a raging storm moving in off the glacier. Was he sorry she’d survived? Did he hate her that much?

The room grew quiet again, as everyone waited for a reaction from either Nando or the judges. Nando spoke first. “Very clever, Sumner,” he sneered. “Did de Mendoza get that for you?”

Her nerves disappeared, replaced by a seething anger that left her mind cold and clear. She blinked lazily, her mouth turning up in a slow smile.

“Rhodry helped,” she said, with an agreeable nod. “Of course, that’s not the point, is it, Nando? Ice bears rarely venture as far south as the Verge, though that’s where this one found us. And that was more than a week’s travel south from where you dropped me.”

She cast her gaze around the room, challenging all of them, then knelt down to roll the pelt back up, tying it off with neat, efficient movements.

“Nando?” Orrin said.

“What difference does it make where they left her?” another shifter shouted. Amanda searched, unable to identify the speaker hidden in the crowd upstairs. “Five days or a hundred, the rules say the candidate must make his way back alone, and she admits de Mendoza was with her the whole time.” There were mutters of agreement.

“Oh, not the
whole
time,” she said loudly enough to silence them, before continuing. “It was a few days before I found him, and then he was unconscious for a couple more.”

Orrin looked at her. “Found him,” he repeated. “You said that before. What do you mean by that, lass?”

“Rhodry was half dead, surrounded by hycats and poisoned with rockweed so he couldn’t shift and defend himself. He was attacked by his own, by shifters from this Guild, who left him to die in the middle of a raging blizzard.”

All hell broke loose after that, questions were shouted at her, demanding answers, explanations, demanding Orrin do something, whether it was to stop her lies or to punish the offenders. It was Evan Graham who finally called for silence, his deep voice bellowing loudly enough to rise above the angry outburst.

“Enough!”

The noise shut off like a faucet, everyone turning to stare at her and the two judges who now stood to either side of her.

“Candidate Amanda Sumner has returned to the Hall from her trial,” Graham repeated the ritual words. “Are there any who would dispute her right to join our Guild?”

No one said anything, until a single voice muttered from behind her. “I’ll grant she wasn’t treated fairly,” the shifter said, sounding almost embarrassed by what he was saying. “The rules still say she must do it alone, and de Mendoza was with her,” he said stubbornly.

“And should she have left him out there to die then?” a new voice asked.

Everyone spun to find Cristobal Martyn standing just inside the front doorway, his question still ringing in the silence that had greeted his arrival. Cristobal was only casually handsome—most of Fionn’s beauty came from his mother—but the Ardrigh’s authority hung over him like a spotlight, drawing every eye in the room.

Rhodry, Fionn and Padraic were at his back, and behind them, she assumed, were the Devlin cousins from the way they were clustered around Rhodry. She met Rhodry’s eyes from across the room, and they were gleaming gold and fierce with a triumph that made her heart skip a beat. She fought to keep her expression even, letting her attention slide over to Fionn who was giving her a very pleased look that included more than a hint of pride.

“A Guild candidate”—Cristobal said, secure in the attention of everyone in the room as he strolled forward—“abandoned on the glacier in violation of every rule of this Guild, much less the simple bonds of honor and duty, plucks a fellow guildsman from the very edge of death, nurses him back to health, and then, with him, survives to return to the Hall. And here she finds…what, gentlemen? Condemnation that she didn’t leave him to die? Is that what the Guild has come to?”

“This is Guild business, not politics,” an unwise someone muttered from far back in the crowd.

Cristobal’s gaze sifted unerringly through the room, settling on a thick-chested shifter leaning against the wall in the deep shadows beneath the staircase. “And am I not a member of this Guild, Liam?” he asked with a deadly calm. His gold-flecked, turquoise eyes, so like Fionn’s, glittered dangerously as he scanned the assembled shifters, scalding them with his judgment. “Attempted murder and assassination…is that what the Guild has come to?” he repeated.

No one moved, no one spoke. Some had the grace to look ashamed, while still others glared back defiantly, unmoved by the Ardrigh’s words. After several minutes of silence, Cristobal said, “Evan? Orrin?”

Evan Graham spoke the ritual words for the third time. “Candidate Amanda Sumner has returned to the Hall from her trial. Are there any who would dispute her right to join our Guild?”

“Devlin stands for the candidate,” a voice growled. A massive redheaded shifter stepped in front of Rhodry to stand next to Cristobal as an answering growl rumbled from several throats behind him.

“As does Martyn,” Fionn agreed.

The room teetered on the brink of violence for several seconds before the words were taken up by shifters from all over the Hall, and repeated until the rafters trembled with the massed roar of voices.

Orrin glanced down at her and grinned. “Welcome to the Guild, Amanda.”