Den of Thieves - Shannon Mayer Page 0,1
as if she were afraid? A single hyena was no match for Lila.
Before I could call out to my winged sister-friend, she swept our way on a down draft, fanned her wings and landed on the pommel of my saddle, gripping it with glittering sharp claws, balancing easily.
“Her wit’s as thick as a Tewkesbury mustard. And she’s freaky as shit,” she said, then patiently waited with her eyes bright. “Zam?”
I shook my head. “Let Maks try first. It’s not fair to show him up every time.”
Lila snickered and stretched her neck and head toward Maks.
Maks tapped a hand on his thigh, drumming his fingers. “I should know that one. It sounds familiar. Have you used it before?”
I gave him another ten seconds before I answered. It was our game. Drop an insult from Shakespeare and have one of the others guess the literary source. Lila and I were rarely stumped. Maks, on the other hand, was still trying to catch us. “Henry IV. Lila, do you mean to say the hyena talked to you?”
You see, there were shifter hyenas in the desert, but they tended to be larger than the average hyena, at least triple the size and weight. This hyena we were closing in on was smaller than the average hyena, not larger.
“I mean, yes, sort of. But that isn’t what’s freaky. I’ll let you decide that for yourself.” Lila crawled onto my shoulder and wrapped her tail around my neck for balance. “I mean . . . really freaky.”
Great. Just what we were not looking for. A freaky assed hyena that talked.
We closed the distance to twenty feet and then I pulled up short. The last thing I wanted was one of the horses getting bit. I slid off Balder’s back and reached for a couple of my smaller knives I kept strapped to my body. One on my left thigh and one pressed against my lower back in a sheath that Maks had made for me on this trip.
“Hyena, do you speak?” I approached the creature slowly, knees bent, muscles tensed and ready to send me in any direction. I stopped ten feet away.
The hyena shuddered and rolled to face me, showing off her belly in a move that was as submissive as could be. “Don’t kill me,” she said and then giggled hard and fast, maniacal. “Killing me would be bad for you, bad for your mate, bad for your sister.”
Her coat flickered as though she had something crawling around inside of her, the flesh bulging and then receding over and over again, all over her.
“Freaky ass shit indeed.” I didn’t take a step closer. “Hyena, what ails you?”
Her whole body shivered. “The beast is taking its dues, and all those who walk on four legs will be called home.”
“Tewkesbury mustard,” Lila muttered in my ear. “Nutty.”
“Is it nutty?” I’d never had mustard by that name; I had no idea.
Lila leaned forward. “Hyena, do you mean us harm?”
The hyena kept shivering. “No, no, I am . . . a warning to all who pass through these lands into the east. Taken from you, the powers will be humbled to the ground, spells are cast, a new power rises, there is no escaping the touch of the beast. He comes for the west.”
I found myself crouching so her eyes were level with mine. Sharp intelligence stared back at me, eyes far too human for any creature who was animal alone. “Are you a shaman?”
“Was, I was. I ran, and ran, but the power caught me and trapped me as this, but not before it shoved me full of death. I am dying. I am, and so I warn you. Bright ones, go wary into the desert of the east, go wary or don’t go at all.”
Another shiver and her fur bulged, cracks appearing here and there. “Do you wish me to end it?”
She shook her head. “You killed the son of the Emperor, the magician. I saw it in my dreams. I saw you right the balance of the western desert. But there is always a power waiting to take the reins. That power rises now. Bright ones, this power is dark, far darker than the magician’s magic. His was made of manipulation, of turning hearts against hearts, of trickery.”
She drew a shuddering breath. “This one . . . his is naught but death. And you . . . if you walk into the east, you will find more than you bargain for. Beware, the north will