Kaji Warriors: Shifting Strength Read online

  “Calling it an emotion is like calling a star hot,” Sloan says. He glances at Debil again then drops his voice into a deep drawl. “It’s so much more.”

  “Really. If not emotion, what would you call it?” Feku’s stern tone makes it clear that he is not in the mood for Sloan’s games.

  “Need, I would call it a need,” Sloan says.

  “What kind of need?”

  “A need to hunt or fight, even procreate.” Sloan waggles his eyebrows, then his face calms, and his tone grows serious. “It’s the need to…survive.”

  “Survival,” Feku repeats as he addresses all the younglings around him. “That’s what you’re learning here. You’re learning to fight, to think, to survive. And not just the Gridiron but life, too.”

  Feku waits for that to sink in, then waves his hand. “Sloan, lead the group in their shifts to battle beasts.”

  Sloan nods to the elder warrior then saunters to the front of his group with a smug grin. All of the purebred Kaji look to their temporary Alpha for inspiration as Sloan closes his eyes. The proud smirk on his lip calms, and the suggestive arch of his brow falls. Even from across the room, Atae notices how odd it is to see her rival’s face so placid. Usually, he twists his face into whatever annoying expression he knows will aggravate her the most. Underneath her distaste for the young male, Atae admits that this calm Sloan is almost appealing.

  Concentrating, Sloan tenses his entire body, and everyone in class watches and waits. After a few dull moments, grumbling escapes the crowd in hushed whispers. Sloan opens his eyes, licks his lips, and glances at Elder Warrior Feku, who continues to watch in silence. Sloan deepens his frown to hide his embarrassment, and his eyes dart around the classroom for inspiration. When they land on Atae, Sloan pauses.

  Atae revels in Sloan’s apparent inability to shift on command. She nearly laughs when his frantic gaze jumps around the room. She knows he’s hoping someone will save him from this embarrassment. His dark eyes fall on her, and Atae’s grin grows. But her smug smile falters as Sloan’s gaze roams from her fuchsia eyes. She feels him sizing her up as though they are in a match. When he meets her glare again, his orbs of coal stare unblinking as a single spark lights a ring of fire in his eyes. An instant later, across a room of adolescent Kaji, Atae peers into the red eyes of a battle beast.

  Refusing to let Sloan unnerve her, Atae doesn’t look away. She watches him cringe and struggle as every muscle in his body contracts at once. Atae flinches at the sounds of Sloan’s bones snapping and his moans of agony. As flesh and bone break down and reform, Sloan pitches forward onto his hands and knees without breaking eye contact with Atae. She cringes and watches his dark skin stretch around new formations, like a snout, and thicken into the battle beast’s tough hide. As silver fur sprouts from his dark skin, Sloan’s body absorbs his Sula Academy uniform.

  Atae holds her breath as Sloan’s convulsions slow, and a thin, red line burns around Sloan’s elongated pupil. His blazing red eyes pierce Atae as he steps toward her with a snarl. At first, she falls back a step from the threat then catches the mistake. Atae presses forward with her own silent snarl. His shift nearly complete, Sloan attempts to retaliate with another dominant advancement, but the last change in his anatomy is so sudden and painful that he drops his gaze and all but yelps in surprise. Sloan’s blades slice through new tissue and muscle as they erupt from his forearms and tail. Moments later, Sloan stands before the class as a complete battle beast.

  Sloan barks at the group behind him, and the other purebred Kaji follow his command to shift. Their temporary leader, or alpha, had given them the order to change; therefore, pack mentality dictates the shift as necessary for survival. None of the younglings have trouble following Sloan’s lead, and Atae frowns at the massive pack surrounding him. She hates the idea of following him. She considers death as a viable alternative if ever forced to make a choice.

  “Sloan has proven how important it is to harness the urges, or needs, that force a shift,” Feku says. His commanding voice drags everyone’s attention from the group of battle beasts. Atae crosses her arms over her chest and glares daggers at Sloan when his class score increases by five points. With a ten-point lead, Sloan snubs Atae’s threats with a puff and flips his slobbery beast head away from her.

  “You were all able to shift without hesitation because the Alpha of your pack, no matter how temporary, commanded it. Kaji descended from pack animals, and, whether we like it or not, packs play a large role in our society. Someone give me an example,” Feku says.

  All the visual visors in the room light up, including, much to Atae’s surprise, the battle beasts’. Even more surprising, the elder warrior signals for Seva, Debil’s packmate, to answer. Bewildered, Atae glances at Jeqi with a questioning look, wondering how he expects Seva to answer in her battle beast form. When in their second form, the Kaji communicate with body language because their vocal cords are not sophisticated enough to form words. Jeqi purses her lips in annoyance and motions for Atae to pay attention. Seva’s bladed tail swirls and twists above her head for a moment. When she stops, a message lights up on everyone’s visors:

  ‘The warriors chosen from the Gridiron to be royal companions are part of the prince’s pack. They usually spend their lives serving the royal family in some capacity or another.’

  Atae pouts at her ignorance. Of course, the battle beasts still have access to their visors. A stray thought as to why Solum didn’t use his the day she awoke from the attack crosses her mind, but she assumes he didn’t because they communicate fine without it. Besides, it gave her father an excuse not to discuss topics he wanted to avoid.

  Like the attack.

  Jeqi’s snickers pull Atae from her thoughts, and the blue hybrid responds with a not-so-gentle elbow nudge to her packmate’s ribs.

  “That’s right, Seva.” Feku increases her score by two points. “But does that mean they have a pack bond?”

  ‘Of course, you can’t have a pack without a pack bond.’

  “Who agrees with Seva? Who thinks that a pack cannot exist without a pack bond?” Feku asks. The majority of the class signals with their visual visors. Atae is surprised to see so many of her packmates agreeing with Seva but doesn’t let it sway her opinion. Noticing her dissent, Feku motions to the hybrid.

  “Atae, what do you think?”

  “You can have a pack without a pack bond.”

  ‘No, you can’t. It’s not a pack if there isn’t a bond. That’s why they call it a pack bond.’

  As Atae reads Seva’s response, she can hear the sarcasm and condescension. Atae bares her teeth as she places one hand on her hip and glares at Seva, ignoring the bladed tail whipping behind the annoyed battle beast.

  “They call it a pack bond because there has to be a pack for there to be a pack bond, not the other way around.”

  “Do you have support for your argument?” Feku asks Atae. Seva growls and snaps her teeth, eager to retaliate, and Atae huffs, unimpressed. She turns her back to Seva, insulting the purebred female, before responding to Feku’s question.

  “Yeah. Them.” Atae waves her arm at the group of adolescent battle beasts. “You said so yourself. They are pack following an alpha that you designated, yet they are not bonded to each other simply because you gave them someone to follow. As soon as you, or anyone else, knocks Sloan off his pedestal, this temporary pack will break apart into the original, smaller packs. Into real packs with real pack bonds.”

  “And what do you think a real pack bond is, Atae?”

  “It’s…” she says but struggles to put words to the bond that she shares with Jeqi. “It’s…loyalty and trust. It’s knowing that there is someone that will always have your back. Someone you can depend on no matter what. It’s like family, but…better.”

  “Well, that’s one way to describe it,” Feku says. He all but rolls his eyes at the sentimental description. “I suppose it’s worth two points.”

  Atae smiles as the gap between Sloan a
nd herself diminishes bit by bit but refuses to meet Jeqi’s eyes after her embarrassing explanation. Jeqi wraps her tail around her waist for safekeeping then teases her packmate.

  “Well, this is awkward.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Now, how many of you have seen a partial shift?”

  This time, no one signals with their visor, and Feku watches everyone turn toward Jent.

  Chapter 16

  Jent stands alone separate from everyone in the section for partial shifters. His black and gray feathers ruffle in agitation as he tilts his head in an avian-like motion. The battle beasts to his left pace and leer at Jent with slobbery growls. Jent’s golden slit eyes, almost bulging from their sockets, dart around the room until they stop on Feku.

  “I…I can’t. I’m sorry, Elder Warrior, but I can’t,” Jent says.

  “Why?” Feku asks. He crosses his arms and stares at the Kip hybrid. Jent’s eyes widen as he realizes the elder warrior’s thinning patience, so he takes a deep breath to calm his anxiety.

  “I can’t do it on command yet. I’ve tried,” he says.

  “Do you know what it’s like for them?” Feku motions to the group of battle beasts. “They are young Kaji. Too young to maintain complete control of their inner beasts.”

  Inner beasts? Atae frowns at the term. What’s an inner beast?

  “As they mature, the Kaji’s instinctual beast mind and the rational mind will combine. Until then, they are constantly at odds. Look at Debil, Jent.”

  Every youngling not in battle beast form watches Debil. She paces back and forth, staring at Jent and drooling. She nips at the other Kaji that come near to warn them off.

  “Right now, her beast mind is telling her that you are prey because she can smell your fear and anxiety. The only thing stopping her from ripping you to shreds is her rational mind arguing that you are not prey but Kaji. Do you understand?”

  Not trusting his voice at the moment, Jent nods his head.

  “So what can you do to prove to her inner beast that you are, in fact, Kaji instead of prey?” Feku asks.

  Jent closes his eyes and focuses all his thoughts and efforts on shifting. When nothing happens, he opens his eyes and searches for help. His eyes dart across the room until he finds Tuk, hiding deep within the pack of battle beasts. Tuk’s initial response to his packmate’s silent pleas is a non-committal huff and an aggravated shake of his head. When Jent doesn’t take the hint, Tuk grumbles and jogs to his packmate. Tuk stops in front of Jent and glares at him. Jent, unsure of Tuk’s plan, watches and waits for something to happen. After a moment or two, Jent relaxes, realizing that Tuk is there for moral support rather than an actual fix to the problem at hand. The idea of Tuk being supportive is foreign to Jent, but he finds it reassuring. Maybe if he concentrates really hard, Jent can shift on command. No one would consider him prey then.

  Tuk releases a loud bark that forces everyone in the room to jump in surprise. Jent, at the apex of the sound, nearly jumps out of his skin. The pain that rips through his body convinces Jent that he did, in fact, shed some skin. Instead, claws slice from his fingertips and the ruffled feathers on his forearms, shoulders, and neck clamp down into melded armor. Jent shields his face with his newly armored arms, but when Tuk doesn’t attack, he lowers them. Jent notices the changes to his hands and arms and smiles. He punches Tuk in the shoulder and admonishes the battle beast’s tactics, but thanks him for the results. Tuk sits on his rump with his chest puffed out, head held high, and quite proud of himself.

  Atae, along with all the other younglings, gawks at Jent in awe. Partial shifters are rare; in fact, many Kaji can go their whole lives without meeting one. Atae finds Jent’s physical shift unnerving and fights the urge to look away, but she marvels at his change in demeanor. His confidence hardens along with his feathers. He now stands before his admiring classmates with pride and a little showmanship as he lets curious younglings feel his new armor. Atae can’t help but envy Jent. He may not be a battle beast, but at least he can shift.

  “Now that everyone has seen a partial shift, can anyone else do it?” Feku asks. When no one volunteers, he continues. “What about the battle beasts? Have any of you ever tried to shift only a part of your body? Maybe just a forearm blade or a patch of thick fur?”

  This time, when no one responds, Elder Warrior Feku opts to remain silent and watch his students process the new information. Sloan is the first to speak up.

  ‘I thought partial shifts for purebred Kaji were a myth?’

  “No, it’s real,” Jeqi says. The entire class, including Atae, stares at her.

  “Continue,” Feku says.

  “It’s a legend, not a myth,” she says. When everyone continues to stare at her, Jeqi sighs. Then, in the cold, analytical voice she uses every time she addresses the class, Jeqi explains.

  “There were a few legendary Kaji throughout history that mastered the ability to control their shift enough to stop it at any point. Usually, this entails forcing the beast blades to shift first, then stopping there. Don’t get your hopes up, though, because every one of these legendary warriors was a Ru-Kai ruler.”

  “Very good, Jeqi.” Feku adds five points to her score. “Now everyone, take a look around. Consider how many of your classmates can shift and how many cannot.”

  The younglings glance around the room, tallying which of their classmates might be a threat in the tournament. Atae eyes Sloan and Marqee, and they both bare their teeth.

  “Almost half of you are at a distinct disadvantage in the tournament, not to mention the Gridiron. The Sula Academy Tournament has a low mortality rate. It won’t kill you,” Feku pauses to tilt his head and shrugs. “At least, it shouldn’t. I’ve taught you everything I can over the last twelve seasons, watched you grow stronger, smarter, and faster. I’ve watched you build your packs and learn to trust each other. But outside this classroom, you don’t get to choose your battalions or your co-workers. And you won’t get to in the tournament, either.”

  Atae glances at Jeqi with a worried brow, and she returns the look with a tight-lipped frown. Other hybrids murmur between their packmates, and the battle beasts pace in agitation.

  “What do you mean, Elder Warrior? Are you going to break up our packs?” Trinka, the green-haired hybrid, asks.

  “The first three rounds of the tournament require packs of four. You will fail or succeed as a pack. No one member of each pack can advance without the other three. The fourth and final round will be on an individual basis. For the most part, I respected your existing pack bonds when selecting your new packmates, but some of you won’t be happy. And I don’t care. I don’t want to hear any whining. Make one complaint to me, and I will pull your entire pack from the roster.”

  As he finishes, Feku flips his hands around to grab at his personal hologram controls. With a flick of his fingers, every visor in the classroom lights up with an incoming message that lists the pack assignments. Atae scans her name and sighs with relief to find Jeqi part of her pack. She smiles at the blonde hybrid, but Jeqi doesn’t notice. Instead, she studies her own hologram and bites her lip. Concerned, Atae rechecks the message. When her eyes fall on the two names that will complete their pack of four, Atae falls still. She shuts her eyes with an angry snarl.

  “No. No way.”

  “Atae, calm down.”

  “No. I am not working with them.”

  “Shh.” Jeqi pulls her away from the group to a corner of the room. The reactions around the room vary, but no one seems outraged by surprise reorganization.

  “You have to calm down, Atae. If Feku hears you complaining, he’ll kick us out of the tournament,” Jeqi says.

  “Who cares? Why do we need to compete anyway? The only reason to do this stupid tournament is if we were planning to enter the Gridiron with Sula Academy, but we’re not. We’re entering with Prince Truin, so why do I have to work with him?”

  “Shut up.” Jeqi watches the crowd behind Atae for signs that someone ov
erheard her outburst. The other students are intermingling and joining up with their new packmates. Jeqi can’t see the two purebreds that are tallied to join her pack and hopes they will give her enough time to calm Atae.

  “You’ve kept up your part of the deal, Atae. You get to choose when you want to compete in the Gridiron, but I don’t. Not yet. I have to graduate at the top of my class. That was my deal with my mother. If I don’t compete in the tournament, my ranking will drop, then I won’t be allowed to compete with Sula Academy or Prince Truin. So I need you to pull yourself together and suck it up.”

  Atae glares at her packmate and clenches her teeth, but Jeqi doesn’t back down, meeting Atae’s emblazoned, fuchsia gaze with her own icy blue. After a few moments, Atae relents, closing her eyes and sighing in resignation.

  “Fine.”

  Jeqi smiles and nods her head in gratitude. She opens her mouth to speak but stops when her gaze shifts to something behind Atae. Jeqi’s eyes widen, and she pales. Before Atae can ask what’s wrong, she hears a heavy footfall behind her, and a tall figure casts a shadow over the two hybrids.

  Atae freezes as memories flood her mind. In an instant, she can feel Kandorq grabbing her from behind. His massive hand snatches her neck to pinch off life-sustaining air, and insane fear swallows Atae’s mind and all rational thoughts.

  “Atae,” says a deep voice at her back that ignites Atae’s reflexes into crackling lightning. Twirling around to face Kandorq, she crouches into a defensive fighting stance and snarls like a wild animal. Atae glares at the red-eyed beast and dares him to try to touch her, to hurt her. Clenching her jaw, she bites back a threatening growl at the imposing figure, but it isn’t Kandorq. Instead, Atae finds a frowning elder warrior.