Feral Magic (6 page)

He jerked, scowled.  "A wheeled box like that.  I do not like these vehicles.  They go too fast and they smell very bad and they taint the air with terrible fumes that hurt my nose.  We would not allow them on Ferix."

Before she could reply, his gaze fixed on a shimmer in the air.  "There, the dimensional portal!"

She wasn't sure what she expected – a black hole full of stars, or a window on another world or what – not that she could see much of the portal because it appeared to be sideways towards her.  Sure didn't look like much, a patch of grayness floating about six feet in the air and the size of a person.  Not at all impressive.

Favel shrieked in his car seat, struggling against straining straps.

He was glowing.

"Hang on a minute," Brandy snapped.

Apparently he didn't know those words.  "Quiet!" she ordered.

He stilled, face scrunching into anger.  She thought she actually heard his teeth – fangs – gnash.

A hideous roar echoed.  She cringed.

Heart pounding, Dak whipped around and stared into the fluid airwaves of the portal.  The gate solidified.  He saw Bretine change shape.  Fast, so fast!  That speed was the special gift of the Bruton klatch...and she could draw on the moon or moons where she was as well as Earth's.

A white tiger with black stripes sprang from the opening, roaring, all fangs and fur and claws, aiming for Dak.

But Earth's moon was up.  He'd established a bond with it, pulled on it before, could do so now.  He yanked viciously hard, changed fast, losing muscle mass as he converted it to energy.

He rose to meet the tiger, roaring his own challenge, lunged with teeth toward her skull for a death stroke.  She'd aimed for the man and gotten the panther.

They clashed and rolled, both curled tight in a ball, both reaching with hind paws to protect their own bellies and rip at the other's gut.

His ears drummed with his blood and his own roar.  Bretine's growls.  And female human screaming too loud and shrill.  Brandy.

Who with two swipes would be dinner for Bretine.  After Brandy would be Favel.

Dak had everything to lose if he didn't fight and win.

Thought deserted and teeth and instinct took over.  He and Bretine were much the same weight and size.  Dak flipped.  He and Bretine rolled
away
.  He landed on top and his muzzle peeled back. 
Good!

Her claws scored his back, her teeth scraped skin from his head, tore his right ear nearly off.  Pain!

He got a good grip on her neck, ripped, raked his own claws along her side.

The scent of blood, the taste of it, the power of moonlight filtered in the sun rushed through him.

Another smell – luscious, sex-woman-mate-smell – almost distracting.

Woman!  The woman rushed toward him, too close, too close!  Dak slipped a bit, got rolled under.  Sliced along his haunch.  Move away, away,
away!
  Put himself between tiger and human.

The woman circled, holding something –
hell! nearly gutswiped!

A terrible odor erupted into the air, worse than the usual smells.  Awful chemicals.

White foam showed on Bretine's head, dripping down into her eyes.  She shrieked, tore away from him, leaving muscle and fur in his teeth.  She whirled.  He followed.

Brandy aimed a canister in her hand, shot with it, and spray hit Bretine – in her face, eyes and nose, and in her wounds.  Wild cries.  The rage took the tiger.  Her muscles bunched.

Calculations zoomed in Dak's mind.  Bretine's weight, his position, hers, the angle of the portal in the sky.  He pivoted, aimed, butted her body with his head, drew on magic, flung her back to the portal, praying his aim was good.

There was a flash, a shriek, the smell of burning fur as she sailed through, making him smile.

He crouched and panted, pricked his good ear as he heard voices.

"No, my lady, you must not return if the natives are so inimical.  You bleed,” a man said in officious tones, no doubt a portal keeper.

"It isn't the natives, you fool; it's a Dark Panther enemy."

"We do not allow dueling or feuding here.  I am closing the portal for now."

"Let me GO!" shrieked Bretine.

"I must protest your struggles.  Guards!" called the keeper.

"It took us hours to find the portal, for me to persuade you to let me go through.  It could float away once more!  Stay bribed, damn you!" Bretine snarled.

"Guard!" the keeper ordered.

The portal simply vanished.

Dak laughed, let his joints weaken until he lay on his belly.

Brandy took a few steps back, her hand holding the nasty metal tube falling to her side.  She swallowed, her eyes large.  "Are you okay?" she whispered.

Rubbing at his sore, torn ear, he repositioned it so it would crust over.

I will be fine.
  He grinned.  
Did you see how I beat her?

Brandy took a step back, wet her lips.  "Yes.  You were great."  Her tones were stiff.

His eyes narrowed and she retreated even more, to where the land angled up to the road.  She stumbled a bit.

What is wrong?
he asked mentally.

She straightened.  "I haven't seen much violence.  In real life, that is.  Not even fond of violent movies."

The latter didn't make any sense, and as for the former...
Your Klatch has no enemies?  No feuds?
  An odd notion, but perhaps a little soothing.

"There's only me.  My parents died a while back.  Airplane accident."  She glanced away, her shoulders went stiff.  "And I lost a lover who was a soldier," she whispered.  "But he fought and died in a distant land.  We are mostly peaceful here."  Her gaze still went past him.  "I have friends, of course.  None of us, um, fight or feud."

One of the huge vehicles sounded a horn and Brandy jumped, then frowned back at him.  "You're a black panther sitting in yellow glass.  You'd better change.  If you can."  She turned back toward the car.

Dak struggled with the knowledge that she was
alone.
  No parents or siblings, no extended family, no clan-klatch.  How could that be?  The idea took his breath, made his fur, warm in the hot sun, nearly as chilled as his blood.  Terrible.  Terrible.

Yet she seemed...sane.

"Can you change?  Do you need first aid?"  She pointed.  "I see your clothes over there."

He shook his head, dismissing concepts that could wait to be discussed.  In cat form, he didn't think much about complex things, but the notion of no klatch hurt even his panther self.  Looking toward Favel, he saw the baby staring out the window at him with a concerned expression.  Brandy had removed the restraints so that Favel would not have been a trapped morsel for Bretine.  Smart Brandy.

Dak sent a wave of love to his nephew, pride that the baby stayed safe in the car, reassurance that all was well.  Favel smiled.

Brandy sighed and her shoulders relaxed.  She must sense something from him, too.  He waved his paw at the car and she nodded and returned to it, opening the passenger door and snapping the restraints over Favel, then circling around to the driver's side.

Dak gazed up at the moon, felt the weak light it contributed to the day, but the strong magnetic power of it bathing him, healing him, allowing him to change.

He limped over to his loincloth and the leathers that had fallen from his body since he'd changed so rapidly, along with his pack.  The clothes showed stains and scuffs and a couple of scars, but he put them on.  They were hot from the sun.

Before he got back into the car, he glanced over his seat at Favel.  Then he reached out and tousled the baby’s hair, reiterating,
You did well in the fight.  You stayed safe.  Do well now.  Stay quiet and safe.  You are Chief of the Klatch.
  His nephew didn't understand all of those words or the concepts behind them, but knew the pride and the expectation of acceptable behavior from him.

Favel glowed a little with the power of a royal.

Brandy watched with an anxious face as Dak levered himself into the car.  He kept the groan of pain at pressure on his wounds behind his teeth, swung the door shut with a clunk, arranged his limbs carefully, and curled his hand over the rod above the door.

She started the vehicle and moved it smoothly into a line of others on the road.  He didn't want to contemplate that and closed his eyes, saw red heat in the backs of his eyelids, then images from the fight.

"What did you do to Bretine?"

"Ah, wasp spray," she said.

The concept of
wasp
translated into his head as a flying and stinging insect somewhat like
szats
. 
Spray
was no doubt something to deter them.  "You have a problem with wasps?"

"I have an old house and they seem to be flying into a crack in my bricks.  I'll kill them with the spray, then patch the hole."  She sighed.  "I don't like killing.  Not even wasps."

Obviously too soft-hearted.  Odd how that appealed to him.

"But you attacked Bretine."  That appealed to him even more, and the fact that she'd come to his defense warmed him, as did pride at her intelligence and quick thinking.

"She attacked you first," Brandy said sharply.  "Came out of that damn hole ready to kill you."

"Yes."

"And she'd have moved on to me and the baby."

"Yes."

Brandy jerked a nod.  "Then I did the right thing."  Her eyes went to the mirror where she could see out of the back of the vehicle, and check on Favel.  Dak looked back, too.  The baby was sleeping.  Beautiful.

"Absolutely."  Though he could yet smell the terrible chemicals.  She'd set the cylinder in the car with them.  "Horrible smell."  His nose twitched.  "Burns my nostrils."

She glanced at him and he wished she hadn't taken her gaze off the road.

"Can you stand the odor until we get home?"

Until they returned to her home.  His was through a damned erratic portal.  His people would be waiting for him.  His brother didn't even know their nephew was safe.

"Yes, I can stand the smell."

"You won't have to deal with it in the house.  Wasp spray won't hurt regular cats in general, but I don't know about if it gets in the eyes or in...wounds."  She swallowed.

"You did what you had to."

"I know."  Her grip tightened on the wheel before her.  She slid a glance toward him.  "Your enemy will be waiting inside the portal for you and Favel."

Dak grunted, wondered whether to tell her the truth, decided to do so.  "More likely she'll come through when she can, hunting us."

"Oh."  Brandy's shoulders had tensed but this time she kept her eyes ahead.  Dak was glad of it because traffic had picked up.

  Dak took the ruby from his pack, twisted to point it in all directions.  He got a faint pulse from the north.

"Is the portal still around?"

"Barely within distance of this meter, which would measure about one hundred of your units – miles.  Not enough to exactly locate from here.  North."

"Oh.  Does Bretine track as well as you?"

"No, that is my profession."

She sighed.  "That's good."

He saw her small, white teeth nibble on her lip, an odd habit.  She said, "Your enemy is a white tiger with black stripes."

An instinctive growl escaped him before he answered, "Yes."

"Does she know anyone here in Colo– on Earth?"

"No."  The thought made him smile.  "And she is not so pleasant a tigerwoman that she will find a soft-hearted person to help."

"A fool," Brandy murmured.  Her fingers, which had relaxed on the wheel, gripped tight.

"No.  Not a fool.  When we met, you must have known that you had my nephew in your power and I would have done anything to keep him safe."

She snorted.  "Yeah, like kill me, and he was in my power for all of – what? – two seconds."

"You found him and cared for him, protected him.  I and my klatch are forever in your debt.  To repay honor with dishonor will eventually erode the soul and turn a pantherman mad."

"Huh."  She paused a moment as cars zoomed close.  "Back to Bretine.  She's a white tiger with stripes.  And the ruby meter shows the portal north."  Brandy's lips curved.  "A white tiger with black stripes will be noticed.  Even in Wyoming."  Once more she glanced at him.  "Though there's an awful lot of empty land in southern Wyoming."

When they walked – all right, he had to suppress a limp – from the car through Brandy's back gate, Dak carried Favel.  Brandy's tomcats moved from lounging in the shade and hissed in reaction.

Dak would have to deal with the cats.  He could handle anything they could dish out, but he didn't want them ganging up on Favel.  They could do some damage to the baby, take his eyes, or a finger or two, a toe.  The child would regrow them, but the trauma at so young an age could hurt him.

Favel had already had enough trauma; he knew his parents were gone forever.  Not how, but those special bonds, that loving bubble had been wrenched away.  Replaced by the fierce love Dak and others had for him, but it was not the same as the enveloping love of a mother the babe had sensed since he'd been a seed in her womb.

Brandy was cooing at her cats, soothing them.  Tom-Tom had rolled onto his back and exposed his belly for a rub.  She stopped and stroked them, muttering words Dak finally figured out were nonsense.

"Oooh, you're purring!"

Neither of the cats purred loudly in response to petting, which Dak considered most discourteous.

Yes.  They were nothing but irritants.  He couldn't kill them, not when Brandy obviously loved them.  He could feel that love when they were with her, as could they.  And Dak and Favel were limiting the time she was with them due to their hostility to the cub.

After a soft stroking of Tom-Tom's belly and a small game of "catch the long stem of plumed grass" with Gypsy, Brandy went to the door and unlocked it.  The whole set of actions seemed customary for her and her cats.  He suppressed the need growing inside for her to rub his own belly.

He stopped on the top step of the stoop and glared at the cats, lifted his upper lip in a snarl.  No, he couldn't kill them, couldn't drive them away, but by Mother Moon, they'd leave him and his alone.