Being a true shifter isn’t the blessing it may seem. But through pain and darkness Perdita seeks to find her own life despite the ambition of others…
It was the best part of an hour later when we descended the vertiginous steps that were the only route to the plateau on which the cottage stood. When we reached flatter land where two camouflaged storage sheds were cut into the living rock Mandrake looked up the way we had just come.
“If nobody minds I’ll be flying us back up there.”
Moth nodded vigorous agreement. “Seventy-six steps there are.”
“There are indeed. My master prized his privacy almost as much as his safety.”
Mandrake lifted his chin. “Oh yes, it’s eminently defensible. I wouldn’t give too much for the chances of charging, or sneaking, up that staircase.”
“No. Precisely.”
I input the code on the double doors of the biggest store. My precious quad bike was plugged into the battery bank that fed from an array of photovoltaic panels in the cliff face. I unplugged and wheeled it out. Mandrake closed the doors, which locked with a satisfactory sort of a clonk.
“I’ll drive until we get to the road, then you can have a go.”
He grinned and Moth contracted herself to small enough to pack herself inside his fur-lined jacket. They sat behind me and I switched on. The quad ran silently through the quiet woods. It was a tricky path, so I concentrated on the task in hand, only vaguely aware of Moth chattering away at Mandrake. When we reached the metalled road I drew us to a halt and looked over my shoulder at Mandrake. He was looking shell-shocked and I wondered what, precisely, Moth had been telling him.”
“What moonbeams have you been spinning, Mothwing?” I demanded.
She glared at me. “Moth tells only truth.”
“Okay then. Which truth?”
But she turned her back and refused to speak to me. Mandrake, however, was more forthcoming.
“Moth says that it is necessary to be careful around humans. She says they don’t like us much.”
“Sorry, Moth. You were right to say. He needs to know.” My sister forgave me immediately, and came to my shoulder where she sat to her full height and offered me a sad smile.
“Tell beloved dragon,” she said.
She rubbed my hair while I collected my thoughts.
“First off. How much do you know about humans?”
“Not a lot. The dragon priesthood reckons them beneath contempt, and battle wings have little time for anybody but their own tight-knit groups.”
“Quick history lesson then. This place is our home. Us being trueborn of all sorts. Some of our number were accustomed to visit the lands of the humans but they were usually either scientists, interested in the technologies of the human species, or outcasts, or the very young and foolish. Anyway, visiting the place of humans fell out of fashion and the skill to make portals was lost. But one was kept in good repair in case of need. Somehow, some idiot left it open and unguarded, and a group of humans found their way here. They seemed harmless so they were allowed to stay. The oversight was not keeping an eye on them. By the time anybody thought to look they numbered themselves in hundreds and they had built themselves a life in this place. They called it NunYa.”
Mandrake stared at me and made a noise deep in his chest.
“NunYa. Now there’s an irony.” He saw my puzzled frown and explained. “The only human things the dragon priesthood has any truck with is some of the writings they revere. There is a story passed from mother to child that tells of a magical land called NunYa – where animals and strange beings talk to their human masters.”
That left a sort of a sickly taste in my mouth, but I ploughed on.
“After a couple of centuries or so somebody woke up and noticed that the humans had bred prolifically. The decision was taken to chase them back where they came from. But the portal was smashed beyond repair. Genocide being against the tenets of decency there was nothing to be done about the humans. And that’s why Humans and Trueborn coexist uneasily in this place.
“Can I ask questions?”
“Course you can.”
“The big one has to be why lycanthropes mostly have a human form alongside their beast.”
“Nobody actually knows. But my master, who was very old and very wise, always said we had probably evolved from the same ancestor.”
“Like dragons and water lizards?”
“Precisely like that.”
“It would make sense. And now I’m wondering what happened to the portal.”
“The humans smashed it. Not wishing to share ‘their’ new homeland with anyone else.”
“I see.” I rather thought he did see because he looked as grim as I had ever seen him look.
I pressed on. “Humans are mostly odd. Some manage to interact with other races in a perfectly sensible manner, but they are the minority. The rest fall into two camps. One thinks lycanthropy is a disease and considers lycans to be no more worthy of consideration than oxen or feral cats. The other lot flat out don’t believe in us.”
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