Spear of Destiny by James Baldwin (little bear else holmelund minarik .TXT) 📕

The crowd of Meewfolk women tittered in amusement. Their leader flicked her tail, once, then shrugged and pulled a coil of rope off her belt. “Then I do formally arrest you for unspecified, unspeakable crimes. Come.”

“Dios mío...” Gar slumped his way over as the woman deftly bound my hands, and held his out alongside. “FINE. I want to get into the damn city to shop for parts.”

“I guess I’ll stay out here,” Karalti sighed. “I can’t shift back yet. Bleh.”

“Once your timer’s up, you can come join us. Though the Priest-Queen might just send us straight back out again, so who knows?” The guard fastened the cuffs very loosely—so much so that I could have easily slipped them.

Karalti huffed, and rested back on the pad of fat just underneath her tail, using it like a small stool. “Fiiine.”

“Come.” The guardswoman jerked her head toward the gate and led us through. Suri strolled to my left, her mouth quirked in a strange smile.

I scowled at her. “You. Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“Ideas? Whatever do you mean by that?” Her lips pursed a little more.

“I’m well aware that there’s guys who’d pay a lot of money to be put in cuffs and marched through a city of scantily clad women, furry or not,” I replied. “I am not one of those men.”

“Right.” She snorted. “What was your safeword again?”

I muttered to myself. “… Zinfandel.”

Suri’s grin only widened.

The patrol led us down a wide, smooth road to the Priest-Queen’s palace. It was the polar opposite of the slums in Taltos: an orderly, clean and vibrant grid, well-planned and well-constructed. The wooden houses were crafted with care, mounted on stilts and terraces, with carvings, wooden lattices, and elegant hipped roofs made of blue and purple tiles. Brightly colored chickens clucked and scratched under people’s homes. Broad canals served as roads, full of small boats. Gardens bloomed with flowers and aromatic herbs. The people here were lightly dressed in sarongs and beautiful jewelry. Hundreds of curious eyes followed us as we headed for the center of the city, where a great walled palace reached for the skies. Meewfolk of every color and size came out to gawk at us, from small kittenfolk to elderly matriarchs supported by their adult daughters. Some of them waved. Others crossed their arms, or flattened their ears in disapproval.

The temple itself had a fortified gate: part palace, part fortress, surrounded by lush, tropical gardens. There were entire courtyards within the grounds, divided by paths and small trickling brooks. Silk banners danced in the wind, which was heavy with the smell of flowers. The roof of the palace was sheathed in bronze, gleaming under the hot sun. The guardswomen here were a step above the ones escorting us to the temple’s entry terrace. Their jewelry was made of aurum, radiating magic. They didn’t wear much in the way of metal armor—it was more like gladiator gear—but they were all protected by shielding magic more sophisticated than anything I’d seen in Taltos. Rather than a flat shield of energy, the light bent around their bodies slightly as we passed.

“Meewfolk magic armor is amazing! How do they keep those shields so stable?” Rin craned her head back as we passed.

“Our torques are a secret known only to our artificers, little silverskin. But it is best not to look any of the Royal Guard or the Priestesses in the eye,” the guard closest to her said. “They will take it as a challenge. On the temple grounds, you are honor-bound to fight anyone you stare at.”

“Temple?” I asked. “What god is it dedicated to?”

“To the Triad,” the leader replied.

I blinked a couple times. “You mean… the Paragon, Artist, Warsinger Triad? Or…?”

“No. We have three gods. Lua, Mewa Rathi, and Hanuwele. It is a place where they are worshipped, and also the place where our ancestors are honored.”

At the top of the stairs, blocking the entry to the temple proper, was a unit of some twenty guards—and the one in front, an especially large, strongly built woman, narrowed her eyes and stared daggers at me as they came to a stop. Like her sisters, she was dressed only in pounds of metal, but she had pieces that the other guards did not: stacked rings around her neck, a golden girdle around her waist, and a lovely earring that linked to her nose with a fringe of fine chains. She was very dark furred, with a black face, hands, and tail that bled to fawn over the rest of her coat.

“What is this?” The new woman demanded. “You know it is forbidden for you to bring males here outside of the festival season!”

Our escorts went to pains not to meet her gaze, looking down with their ears folded back and their tails held low. The leader stepped forward and bowed deeply. “We have brought novelty for her Highness’s consideration, Battle Maiden. These humans and one Mercurion. They beg an audience. Some matter to do with the magic of the Ancient Ones.”

The Battle Maiden, as the city guard had called her, irritably flicked an ear as she surveyed us. “How? They only speak the prattle of apes.”

“Believe me, I can understand you just fine,” I said in the same language.

The woman looked at us. Her eyes were an especially brilliant, piercing blue against her dark face. “You have followed this conversation?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Loud and clear, ma’am.”

The woman’s nose twitched as she sniffed at us. “Most manlings who come here expect us to learn their languages, or speak to us in trade pidgin. Why are you here?”

I pushed forward to stand slightly ahead of the others. “We are the Triad of the Sixth Age, and we’re here to beg an audience with your queen to discuss the impending return of the Drachan.”