Inked

He didn’t go down, but at least I had the pleasure of seeing him spit blood. Right before he lunged for me. It might have been over right there, but the flat side of a spear caught him in the chest, holding him back. It was in the hand of the Speaker, the elder charged with voicing the decisions of the Council. He also kept order when needed, as it often was.

The current Speaker was Night Wind of Maccon, a grizzled powerhouse more than a century old and still built like a Mack truck. His straight black hair, streaked with silver, sharp dark eyes and strong, hawklike nose revealed his mother’s Native American ancestry. But I wasn’t stupid enough to think that our shared human blood would bias him in my favor.

“Accalia of Arnou, why have you broken the sanctity of Council?” he asked, in a voice loud enough to carry to every corner of the vast space.

“To challenge,” I said quickly, before Grayshadow could cut me off. And before I could talk myself out of it.

“Whom would you challenge?”

I thought that was kind of obvious, considering I’d just punched him in the mouth. But for once I bit my tongue. “Grayshadow of Arnou.”

As soon as the words were out, I almost felt relieved. The die was cast now, one way or the other. To back out of a formal challenge meant death.

“Until this moment, Grayshadow was presumed to be dead,” the Speaker said, his sharp black eyes flicking between us.

“As he arranged. He killed a vargulf and mutilated the body to make certain it would be mistaken for his.”

“This is ridiculous!” Grayshadow hissed. “She can’t issue challenge. She is human!”

“The challenger speaks first, by Clan law,” the Speaker informed him.

Grayshadow sucked in a breath. “You would put the claims of this creature before mine?”

“She is Arnou. It is her right.”

“She isn’t Arnou! She isn’t anything! And even if you accept that ridiculous adoption, I am Third. I outrank her and I will speak!”

I rubbed my fingers together, trying to get rid of the tacky feel of Cyrus’s blood drying between them. Some of it had settled into the lines of my palms and left a dark stripe underneath my nails. And suddenly I was so angry I could hardly see. “I am the daughter of Laurentia of Lobizon, wolf born, Clan reared. And an adopted daughter of Sebastian of Arnou. You do not outrank me!”

Grayshadow started for me again, but the Speaker’s spear point was back against his chest. “She is allowed to speak.”

I made it fast, but not because I feared another interruption. I was afraid I’d go for his throat and get killed before I ever found out if my theory was right. “There is no Hunter; there never was. Grayshadow killed four wolves—three High Clan and one vargulf—to pave the way to the bardric’s position. With White Sun out of the way, he could challenge Sebastian and take it all. He killed the others as camouflage.”

As short as the explanation had been, I’d had to raise my voice almost to a yell by the end of it. At the word Hunter, the stands had cascaded in one long ripple of fur and skin as hundreds of Weres rushed down the slope to the lower levels. None attempted to advance into the flat area, but they were as close as they could get. There was blood in the air, something no wolf could resist.

“She lies! The human lies!” Grayshadow was practically apoplectic. “I barely escaped alive from the clutches of the vargulf Cyrus, once of Arnou. He and this one conspired together to weaken the clans by killing our leading members! They care nothing for our ways, for our traditions! They think to use the war to destroy us, to dissipate our power and to allow the humans to enslave us!”

It wasn’t a bad story, playing to all the hot buttons for the clans: raging xenophobia, distaste for the human war, and fear of those who possessed a magic they didn’t understand. A rustling murmur came from the crowd, growing louder by the second, and I briefly wondered if I was about to be lynched. And then the Speaker’s spear struck the ground with three heavy knocks that I swear I could feel through the soles of my boots.

“Challenge has been issued.”

Grayshadow looked at him incredulously. “She is human! She has not accepted the Change! There is nothing in the tradition that defends it!”

“And nothing that prohibits. I say a second time, challenge has been issued against you, Grayshadow of Arnou. Do you accept?”

“This is outrageous! She and her human father killed four representatives of Lobizon! Her birth clan wants nothing to do with her! She is clearly—”

“For the third and last time. Challenge has been issued against you by a lawful member of the Clan. Do you accept?”

Grayshadow’s mouth compressed into a sharp line, a wince of anger and contempt. But I wasn’t worried. Clan law is remarkably simple in comparison to the human variety. If he wanted to clear his name, he had to fight me. To refuse would be an admission of guilt, and ringing us on all sides were members of the clans who had lost members to the Hunter. He’d never make it out of here alive.

Of course, if he accepted, I might not either.

He finally gave an abrupt nod, his eyes filled with not just pride but rage. It paled them out to silver, hardening a mouth shaped for smug, superior smiles and stiffening his walk to angry, snapping strides. I stood there, watching him move to the middle of the great space, unsure what happened now.

“Challenge has been issued,” the Speaker intoned. “Challenge is accepted.”

I started after Grayshadow, almost deafened by the renewed uproar of the crowd, only to be jerked back by an iron grip on my arm. I smelled the musky scent of woods and predation and looked up to see Sebastian. He was in human form, but his eyes were chartreuse and they didn’t look happy.

“I asked you to find my brother, not to issue challenge!” he hissed, so low I could barely hear him over the crowd.

“I did find him. He’s fine. Well, not fine,” I amended. “But he’ll live.”

“Then your job is done!”

“Not yet.” I tried to tug away, but got exactly nowhere. Sebastian might have been a column carved out of the surrounding rock.

“I’ll take the challenge for you,” he told me, his jaw tight.

“Like hell.”

“Lia! Don’t be a fool. I’ve seen Grayshadow fight! You can’t win!”

“I guess we’ll find out.” The death grip on my arm didn’t change. “Let me go, Sebastian.”

“I’ll repudiate you, dismiss you from the tribe! It will render your challenge meaningless.”

I blinked. He looked utterly serious. “And that would help how? Then they’d kill me for being here.”

“I will guarantee you safe passage.” He started pulling me away, toward the sidelines.

“Then Lobizon will kill me tomorrow!” I dug in my heels, which did nothing but carve furrows out of the dirt. “Sebastian! He came here to challenge you! As soon as I leave—”

He rounded on me, furious. “I can fight my own battles!”

“Not this time. You’re just going to have to trust me.”

“I am not going to tell my brother I let his mate die!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You don’t understand. It would kill him! Our mother—” He stopped, a flash of pain cutting across those striking eyes. “She died in a contest much like this one.”

“She was the woman you told me about,” I realized. “The one who died defending her mate.”

“Yes. And I can’t watch that again!”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know Grayshadow like I do. He will kill you.”

I looked over my shoulder, to where Grayshadow silently waited. Unlike me, he’d taken time to change clothes before approaching the Council. I could have picked him out as Arnou anywhere. It was in the shape of his long, dark cloak, cut from a template hundreds of years old that had been copied from one worn by their first clan leader. More obviously, it was in the peculiar mix of arrogance and elegance that no other clan quite managed, that calm conceit that said we are first because we are best.