Page 41 of Shifter King
AaQar made an odd little expression that suggested he knew what that was about but resumed eating.
"It is difficult," QueQoa said. "But if no one knows Amelia, that makes our task far easier."
WroOth nodded. Somehow despite the events of yesterday, he appeared far more like his old self. QueQoa too seemed better. Maybe she wasn't the only one who had found a way to replenish her barriers and boundaries. "So many things can go wrong or be just incorrect enough to tip others off that the being before them is not someone they know and love. Every phase of the process takes time. But at my stage and as much time as we've spent together, I could do a fairly good impression of you so long as no one knew the exact patterning of your scars. With those scars and long leech marks on display, you are almost inimitable unless you did something to help the poor soul trying to mirror your appearance."
"That can be done?"
He nodded, then kicked back on the bench so that he leaned against the wall. "But even if you did and someone tried to look at you, it would have to be truly masterful to ever fool me or anyone in this room unless we were seriously impaired."
"Well, as I am not enormously fond of the idea of anyone pretending to be me at all, that's not a challenge I'm going to take you up on."
"It is a little unnerving if you aren't used to it. Seeing yourself as someone else portrays you is rarely flattering." QueQoa gestured toward WroOth. "This one never gets the walk right. Or the shoulders."
"I get them right. You just don't believe me. And you do walk that way."
QueQoa shoved him, nearly knocking him off the bench. He then returned to his stew. "But you don't have to see what we do when we credit you, Amelia."
It was probably for the best that she didn't.
Naatos put his arm around her. "No, you shouldn't. Just—it will be sufficient. I do not recommend that you ask much about it at all beyond what is necessary, and I will seal the memories if possible."
Those tremors of emotion that spread throughout the room weren't clear enough for her to identify immediately without focusing. What lay on the surface was a more jovial tone with simmering concern underneath. Naatos remained the clearest.
Conversation turned toward the tasks that needed to be completed and the priority that was to be given as well as who would do what. Not shockingly, she was to remain in the bunker or near it. The day would be spent between hunting, foraging, reconnaissance, and other tasks which Naatos did not disclose and which she guessed included preliminary matters of vengeance.
As everyone moved on to handle their separate tasks, she stepped to the side of the table. He followed her. "I know you don't really like this plan," he said. "But I will not allow it to harm you. We'll construct some myth or legend that can follow you. They will tell stories no matter what. We'll add more of you in there."
She tucked her hair back over her ear as she shook her head. "I had never really thought about being someone in a myth or a legend exactly. Or having a choice in who I would be. It always seemed fixed." And before that, it had been that she was an executioner and a monster. Now she really was about to be seen as one but in a different way.
"We are all choices." Naatos frowned as he caressed her cheek. His fingers trailed to her chin and tilted her gaze back to his. "In this case, you have made a wise one, though I know it is not easy for you."
She struggled to meet his gaze. Her throat tightened. "Just. Please make sure they aren't innocents," she said softly.
"They won't be."
Her stomach twisted as if there was a knife in her gut. People were going to die because of her. And she would have to live with that. "When will it happen?"
"In a few days. It would be best if we could pair you to something that they already fear. But that will require that we gain more knowledge about their current culture. Such as it is. This will work." Leaning in, he kissed her. That edge of hunger returned, but he simply nudged her and then stepped back. "Avoid trouble while I'm gone."
"Now I won't." She forced a smile and watched him leave before returning to the table and her books and exercises. It was going to be a long day. And hopefully a quiet one.
THE SAND PITS
Naatos scouted a separate location to serve as their backup camp and a possible alternative for meeting with Laachtue. Though there was no bunker there, the natural rock formations in the foothills provided sufficient shelter to serve as a starting point. It wouldn't be good for anyone to stay there long. Anyone who couldn't fly might get trapped in the low section of the foothills and find the sandy soil more challenging to run up. Such a pity if it were to happen to the Bealorns or anyone else who wished them ill.
A twenty-foot-long ant lion had a sand trap about a hundred feet to the south, and most of the front-facing stone was a relatively brittle shale.
It wasn't a place he wanted Amelia to be, but it could work to set up as a fake campsite to lure the Bealorns in and allow something naturally dreadful to occur.
A pack of besreds had staked out territory farther to the north. They might come through here soon enough, but they wouldn't like the vibrations the ant lion would give off in its thrumming attacks beneath the sand. And the ant lion itself was likely to increase those just to drive them away as it didn't care for the acid-mouthed besreds either.
Shifting to his veldrok crawler form, he scaled the foothill and climbed one of the great grey stone spires. His claws grated over the cold porous rock, but there were enough holds to support him. Winged serpents dove at his head, but he swatted them away. After the first bit him, the others recoiled, disliking the bitter musky scent his veins released. One of the advantages of any veldrok form despite the lingering foul taste it left in the back of his own mouth and the ache down the base of his spine. Some consequences never fully abated.
Darmoste lay a mile, perhaps a mile and a half beyond this point. The energy dome that surrounded it and provided shelter from the predators gave off a faint purple-blue sheen in the red-gold sunlight. It was disturbing to understand how much the city had shrunk both in physical size and actual value.
Nothing like what it had once been. Nothing compared to its former glory in any metric. While the creatures and wild had increased in size and ferocity, the people and structures had shrunk in every measure except perhaps cruelty.
They weren't even impressive in physical appearance any longer. Nothing from the architecture to the fashion to the ethos was impressive in any area that mattered. And they would not last even another year. Let alone another century.
