“You really don’t know?”
“No.”
It had to be a lie. Roland would’ve told him. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“Because it hurts Roland.”
Let’s poke a wasp’s nest with a stick and see what comes out. “Afraid your commander and chief will do away with you?”
Hugh leaned forward. “No. I don’t want to cause him more pain.”
Was that genuine or was he playing me? Fine. Let’s play, Hugh.
I came closer and sat sideways in the smaller throne, my back against the armrest. “How much do you know about my mother’s magic?”
“Not much,” Hugh said. “Roland was unpredictable when it came to Kalina. We all maintained some distance.”
Funny how he kept calling my father Roland. He knew his real name, but he wasn’t sure if I did, so he was being careful.
“She was a really powerful enchantress in the classic sense of the word. Power of love and suggestion. If she wanted you to love her, you did. You would do anything to make her happy. I think Roland was immune, which probably made him really special to her.”
Hugh frowned. “Are you saying . . .”
“I spoke to some people who knew them both. The description was, and I quote, ‘She fried him. She had time to do it, and she cooked him so hard, he left Roland for her.’”
Hugh stared at me. Right now he was likely wondering if I had my mother’s power and if I could fry him the way she’d fried Voron. Now we were both off-balance. There you go. Two can play that game.
“Do you believe it?”
“I don’t know. I wish Voron were around so I could get his take on it, but some asshole showed up at my house and killed him.”
A long, lingering howl came from the ravine. The high-pitched song of a wolf on the hunt rolled above the treetops. I stood up on the throne. I couldn’t see jack shit. Only the trees.
“Leave them to it,” Hugh said. “They’re animals; it’s what they do. They chase, hunt, and kill.”
And just like that the lord of the castle was back.
“Why the hell did you even drag us on this hunt?”
“Because I wanted to talk to you, and they hover around you like bees around a patch of flowers. What do you see in Lennart? Is it power? Or is it safety in numbers? Trying to gather enough bodies to protect yourself?”
“He loves me.”
Hugh leaned back and laughed.
I wondered if I was fast enough to stab him. Probably. But the stab would put me very close to him and he would retaliate.
“He is an animal,” Hugh said. “Stronger, faster, more capable than most of his kind, but at the core still an animal. I work with them. I know them very well. They are tools to be used. They have emotions, sure, but their urges always override their stunted feelings. Why do you think they make all these complex rules for themselves? Stand this close but not six inches closer or you’ll get your throat ripped. Eat after the alpha starts eating, but don’t get up when he walks into the room. We don’t have these bullshit rules. We don’t need them. You know what we have? We have common courtesy. The shapeshifters mimic human behavior much like students mimic a master artist, but they confuse complicated for civilized.”
Blah-blah-blah. Please, tell me more about shapeshifters, Grandpa Hugh, because I just have no idea how they think. It’s not like I live with five hundred of them and end up sorting through their personal problems every Wednesday at the Pack court hearings.
“For a moment I thought you might be a real human being, but you proved me wrong. Thanks. It will make it so much easier to kill you.”
Hugh leaned forward. A strange light danced in his eyes. “Want to give it a shot?”
Anytime. “Why, you want to show me what you’ve learned?”
“Ooo.” Hugh sucked the air in, narrowing his eyes. “Mean. I like mean.”
A strange low roar cascaded through the mountains, dying down to an odd note, almost like bleating if the goat making it were predatory and the size of a tiger.
“Damn it.” Hugh stood up on his throne. “I told them to stay the hell out of the ravine.”
I stood up. To the left the trees shook. Something galloped up the mountain slope straight for us.
“What is it?”
“Ochokochi. Big, vicious, carnivorous, long claws. They like to impale people with their chests.”
“They what?”
“They grab you and impale you on their chest. The shapeshifters spooked the herd. Stupid sonsabitches. I asked one thing—one damn thing—and they couldn’t do it right. The herd is heading for us. Normally I’d move out of their way.”