Changer (Athanor) by Jane Lindskold Page B

pleasant.”
    When they enter the courtyard at the center of the hacienda, they find it tenanted by two coyotes.  One is full-grown, grizzled grey above with a darker cross about his shoulders and a touch of white on his underparts.  The other is a fat grey pup with hints of the coyote she will become.  She had been cuddled next to her father but, upon their entry, she scuttles under a lavender bush.  The thick blossoms and new foliage hide her very effectively, but if he looks closely, Arthur can see her eyes, still baby blue, peering suspiciously out.
    With a surge of motion, the Changer takes a human form.  The body is tall, dark-haired, and rather aggressively male—a fact that his present nudity does nothing to conceal.  Perhaps out of courtesy for Vera, perhaps not, he reaches for the clothing draped on one of the teak patio chairs and dons it.  
    The jeans and shirt were clearly purchased for someone several inches shorter.  From this, Arthur surmises that the Changer has used more than one human shape recently.  Or perhaps he merely stole the clothing from some unlucky sod.  The Changer has always been rather cavalier regarding other’s property.
    “Changer,” Arthur says.  “Welcome.”
    Occupied with buttoning his shirt, the Changer only grunts.  Not a promising start for a conversation.
    Arthur sallies on.  “We made a few extra sandwiches when we were having lunch.  Would you care to join us?”
    “Thank you.”  The Changer now smiles warmly; he knows that offering food equals an offer of protection in many old cultures.  It may do so no longer, but Arthur likes such archaic gestures.  “Your welcome and your food are appreciated.”
    He takes a ham sandwich from the plate Arthur has set on the table and tosses it under the lilac bush, where it vanishes to a chorus of small growls.  Then he takes a second and seats himself in one of the carved-teak chairs that are scattered about the patio.  The others follow suit.
    “How are you, Arthur?  Eddie?”  Somehow, the Changer’s body language suggests that he is in charge of the little gathering.  “Has the universe been kind to you of late?”
    “Kind enough,” Arthur says.
    Eddie nods.  “Pretty good.  We had a bit of trouble with a clash between Katsuhiro Oba and Dakar Agadez, but that has been resolved satisfactorily.”
    “Who?” the Changer asks.
    “Susano and Ogun,” Eddie clarifies, using names with which the Changer is certain to be familiar.
    “Gods of storm and iron,” Arthur adds.  “When they lack others to fight, they battle each other.  How have you been?”
    “Well enough until recently,” the Changer says.  He has inhaled his sandwich in a fashion that recalls a neater version of his coyote self.  “And that recently is what brought me here.”
    He pauses.  The others wait.  There had been an anger in those last few words that did not invite casual rejoinders.
    “A few days ago, my mate of these last five years and all of my family except for the poor creature under that shrub were slaughtered.”  The Changer’s eyes narrow, and a dangerous light touches their yellow depths.  “I have reason to believe that the killing was commissioned by one of our kind.  I am here for three things.  I want identification, so that I may move in the human world.  I want to register my vendetta and its purpose with you.  And I want to know where Lilith resides these days.”
    Arthur nods slowly.  “I hear you and you have right to claim the first two things that you have asked.  Before I grant the last, could you explain why you want to know Lilith’s location?”
    “On the day my family was slain,” the Changer says, “I returned from hunting in time to see the killers finishing their work.  They rode from the site, my wife’s pelt and that of my elder daughter behind their saddles.  My babies were shoved in a sack—all but that one, who had been so terrified that she did not cry out and so