Trail of Lightning (The Sixth World #1)(68)
“There’s a lot of money in this room. Law enforcement kind of looks the other way.”
“Really?”
“Didn’t you see those guys checking weapons at the door? Law Dogs are the security.”
I lean in to ask another question, when I feel a hand on my shoulder. It’s Kai. He whispers in my ear. “Look over there, to your right, past the two big guys in the black security T-shirts.”
I look, eyes straining. There, inside what looks like a glass cage of some kind, rising up a good ten feet off the highest-level bleacher and affording the occupant a spectacular 360-degree view of the crowded pit, is what can only be Mósí.
I hadn’t been sure what we were looking for, since Ma’ii had been his usual enigmatic self and failed to give us any kind of description beyond a name and a gender. I knew Mósí was the Navajo word for “cat,” so I assumed she must resemble a feline in some way. But a feline the way Ma’ii was a canine, or simply someone who’d taken on the name “cat” as an affectation, I wasn’t sure. But now I am.
She is small, no more than four and a half feet tall. With all the wild clan manifestations in this place, she could be another strange display of Diné blood, but I know she is more. That sense I have that tells me when there are monsters around singles her out as something inhuman. Immortal. Something Other.
Her eyes are huge, oversize in a small heart-shaped face with a delicate pointed chin. Triangular cat ears protrude past her blunt bangs and bob haircut, and vibrissae flicker white and gray between her flat nose and small downturned mouth. She wears a bright green party dress, or at least a dress that might have been popular at parties in a 1950s TV show, with a wide circle skirt and puffy sleeves. A clear visor is perched on her head and she has a pencil tucked behind her feline ear. It’s obviously for show because her small clawlike hands whip across the keyboard in front of her, too fast to follow. Four women stand around her, just outside the glass, dressed just as demurely as their boss in matching dresses of complementary shades, shouting and taking bets like old-time stockbrokers. They, at least, look human, except for their bright red cheeks that mark their clan.
“Mósí,” I say. “Now how the hell are we going to get to her?”
“Looks like we won’t have to.”
Coming toward us are two big Bear clan security guards. Huge, heavy-shouldered, and shaggy-haired, like their clan namesakes. One I recognize as the guy who took my weapons. I shift into high alert. Clive said they were off-duty Law Dogs. Chances are they won’t recognize us, but there’s always that possibility.
“No,” Kai says, anticipating my worry. “Look.”
He points back to Mósí in her glass box, and this time she’s staring right at us, her eyes cutting through the surrounding chaos to settle heavily on me.
“Boss wants to meet you,” comes the rumbling voice of one of the guards. He lays a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“We’re happy for the invitation,” Kai says agreeably.
The guard laughs. “Not you. We were told to bring Neizghání’s pup. That’s it.”
“Neizghání’s pup?” I don’t know if that’s an insult or a compliment.
“She’s not going without us,” Kai protests.
“Orders were for her,” the guard complains.
“I know they were, but let’s be reasonable. We aren’t letting her go off alone with you, so you should let us come,” Kai says. He stares at the guard, eyes a bright silver through the medicine still on my eyes.
The guard grunts and exchanges a look with his partner. The partner shrugs and the other Bear clan guy’s eyes flicker up to the space over my shoulder. I turn to see Mósí give a slight nod in our direction. “Fine. Bring your little menagerie. It won’t help you in the ring.” With that, he turns and heads back in the direction he came from, leaving us to follow.
I look over at Clive, broad and muscled but somehow innocent-looking with that curly hair and freckles. And Kai, studying me like I’m the most important thing in the world.
“I think you’re both nuts,” I admit, “and you’re probably going to get yourselves killed if you keep this shit up. But I appreciate the gesture.”
“It’s not a gesture, Maggie,” Kai says. “We’ve got your back.”
“Clive?” I ask.
The redhead’s face is solemn. “You saved my life, and my sister’s. You don’t even have to ask.”
It’s as good as it’s going to get, and they are capable of making their own decisions. If they want to follow me into the darkness, who am I to stop them?
“Okay,” I say. My hands move to check my weapons before I remember I’m unarmed. “Let’s go meet Mósí.”
Mósí’s lair, and it really could only be called a lair, is carved out of the earth, deep down in the cavernous depths of the Shalimar. The guards lead us down a twisting staircase well below the main club, and walk us through a passageway that looks like it was dug right out of the red dirt of Dinétah. The rounded tunnel is rough rock and packed soil on all sides, above and below. We move through the darkness like moles. My night vision is great, but even I have to rely on our Bear clan guides holding gas lanterns to lead the way. Above us, I can hear the stomping and cheering of the crowd. We are directly below the fighting pit, and dust and loose debris trickle from the ceiling with each grunting thud above our heads as the fights rage on.