Patrick and Aidan are leaning back against the Prius outside of the Kikatuwa compound, waiting for Farid to arrive.
After a few minutes, Farid pulls up on his bike and parks next to the car. He tugs off his helmet, shakes out his shoulder-length hair, and smiles as he approaches them.
"By all the gods! That felt so frickin' good!" His smile widens.
"I can only imagine." Patrick says, his voice revealing a hint of jealousy. "It looks like the ride did wonders for you."
"Trust me, it did," Farid replies. "And, given the day I had yesterday," he shakes his head sadly, thinking back to his fight with Sebastian. "Let's just say, I needed it."
After a beat, he nods his chin in Patrick's direction. "So, what's the plan?"
Patrick pulls out his phone and reads the latest update from Headmaster Pierce. "I think we're supposed to meet with a representative..." He scrolls through the email. "Yeah, we're supposed to meet up with this Minuk guy, from the sound of it." He slides his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and says, "So, who should do the talking?
"You," both Farid and Aidan say simultaneously.
"Alrighty then," Patrick replies, somewhat reluctantly. "According to Pierce, since it's getting close to dinner time, they'll probably have some sort of ceremonial meal planned for us. Given that it'll be some sort of Shifter ceremony, it's probably best if I take the lead anyway." He looks deliberately at Aidan. "It's just too easy to offend someone."
Aidan's jaw drops and he's about to defend himself when a tall man in his late 30's with an aquiline nose, dark eyes, and long black hair, tied in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, approaches them. He's dressed smartly in a black turtleneck, a houndstooth sports jacket, jeans and black cowboy boots. Clearly not happy to be the one who has to escort the boys around, he looks at them critically, assessing who should be taken most seriously and settles on Patrick, to whom he extends his hand.
"I'm so glad you finally made it," Minuk says, as he nonchalantly peers down at his watch then quirks a brow. "Albeit fifteen minutes late," he adds.
The boys look at each other, sheepishly.
"Be that as it may," Minuk says on a sigh, "my name is Minuk Gray-Weather, and I am the Deputy Chief of Staff of the Kikatuwa tribe. It's an honor to meet with such a respected delegation from the Otherworlder Academy," he says, his hollow smile punctuating his condescension.
It must kill him to have to play delegate and guide to a bunch of kids.
Patrick clears his throat. "It's actually The Otherworlder Integrated Academy, sir," he corrects Minuk, recognizing the subtle power play.
Minuk's lips twist into a derisive smile as he bites back a retort and instead says, "Oh but, of course. Please forgive me."
"That's not a problem, sir. I'm Patrick Meska." Patrick lifts his hand from his chest and points to his compatriots. "And this is Aidan O'Brien and Farid McFadden."
Minuk's gaze rakes uncharitably over Aidan and Farid, and while he smiles politely, he doesn't extend his hand.
Instead, he whips around and gestures for the kids to follow him. "I'll show you to your quarters, and then you can settle in and clean up before the ceremonial feast," he says as he guides them down the gravel path that leads from the parking area into the compound.
He leads the boys past two giant totem poles, each forming the side of a large wooden gate that sits at the entrance of the massive Kikatuwa compound and past a fifty-foot longhouse with a high roof and beautifully etched symbols that serves as the community center for the tribe.
Inside the space, several campfires roar and hiss before skillfully-crafted log cabins and cleverly-styled wood and canvas bungalows designed so efficiently to maximize space without compromising warmth that they looked just as impressive as those Tiny Houses you see on TV.
Since it's dusk and the compound sits on a high plateau of land overlooking a gently cascading river and lush valley, the sight of the bright orange flames set against the blossoming pink sky on the horizon is breathtaking.
Every Shifter they pass by, though, stares at the boys with quiet hostility as Minuk leads them to the guest area on the edge of the property. And while the Shifters are all in human form, there's still a feral quality about them that's so palpable, it sets both Farid and Aidan on edge.
At the center of a large circle made of hewn logs is an already raging fire and behind it, a yurt—a voluminous circular, canvas dwelling, with a raised top, similar to a circus tent. It's a warm and easily movable dwelling perfect for guests.
"We live a bit differently than you do." Minuk glances back over his shoulder at Farid and Aidan, in particular. "But I believe, with the right mindset, you'll find our yurts just as comfortable as the manors and palaces you're probably more accustomed to," he says, not really trying to hide the thread of resentment lacing his voice.
Farid and Aidan exchange silent glances. Manors and palaces? Is he serious?
Apparently, the old class differences that have long separated the races--the Shifters tending to lead much simpler, less flashy lives than either Vampyrs or Enchanteds--was not sitting well with their guide.
Minuk steps up onto a low-slung wooden porch and pulls back the heavy opening flap of the yurt. He bows his head politely, welcoming the boys in.
"Either I or someone from Chief Qa'watil's staff will return in about an hour to escort you to dinner at the longhouse," Minuk announces as he politely bows his head again. "Please, gentlemen make yourselves at home."
Minuk leaves and Farid and Aidan look to Patrick for guidance. Neither of them have seen, much less stayed in a yurt.
"Well, boys," Patrick says, gesturing at the vast, open space, "this will be our humble abode--at least for the next few days."
Inside the yurt, it looks very similar to a five-star ski chalet, with three beds each covered in plush down comforters and sectioned off with heavy walnut dressers and bookshelves for privacy. In the middle of the yurt is a wood-burning stove. Low slung couches surround it and beautifully hand-woven rugs, in a variety of colors, are strategically placed throughout the space to accent the warm, redwood floor.
Aidan lets out a low whistle as he turns in circles taking in the space. He throws his bag onto the bed nearest to him and says, "Wow! This place is fierce!"
"Yeah, it's really nice," Farid agrees, taking in the unusual but welcoming space.
Patrick's brows crease in irritation and confusion. "What did you guys expect?" He places his duffle bag down next to the last open bed, then he walks over to the wood-burning stove to make sure they have enough wood to get them through the night.
"Honestly," Aidan pipes up, his opinion uninvited. "I'd always heard that Shifters lived in broken-down caravans in crappy old holiday parks or flimsy tents far out in the woods."
Patrick turns around slowly and stares at Aidan in disbelief. Clenching his fists, he takes a deep, steadying breath, amazed at the level of ignorance the other races have about how Shifters actually live.
Patrick pivots away with his back to Aidan. "Figures..." he mutters underneath his breath, and then he begins to unpack.
Sensing the tension between Patrick and Aidan, Farid pipes up and says, "Well, I'm excited to stay here. But it doesn't seem like we'll have too much time to check out the compound and look for the tablet fragment tonight. What do you guys think?"
Patrick takes a beat and then finally responds with a "Nope," popping the "p" to broadcast his irritation. Then after a pause, he inhales deeply, reminding himself that they don't have to be friends to collaborate, so he speaks up again, and says, "I don't think we'll make much progress today either. So, I say we just get through dinner without causing an incident," he can't help it, but his gaze slides to Aidan, "and then ask for a tour of the grounds tomorrow morning, see if we can sneak away then."
Farid nods, but Aidan, perched on the edge of his bed, cocks his head and says to Patrick, "Hold on a minute... What do you mean by 'get through dinner without incident?' Was that comment specifically meant for me?"
Patrick levels a pointed gaze at Aidan. "In a manner of speaking, yes. It's best to keep the conversation superficial and essentially keep your opinions to yourself." He stares hard at Aidan, then adds. "You know what? Come to think of it, you should probably just smile, nod, and keep your mouth shut." He scowls.
"Hey!" Aidan pops off the bed. "Now, why would you go and say a thing like that, huh?" He props his fists on his hips in protest. "I mean, who died and made you chief of this operation?"
Patrick rolls his eyes and chuckles in response.
This reaction gets underneath Aidan's skin and he responds, testily, "No, I'm serious! We never explicitly determined who'd take the lead on this mission. You just assumed since it's a Shifter camp, of course, it would be you. But you know what, Patrick? I disagree. I think that either Farid or I could just as easily take the lead. And just so you know," he squints, "you're not the boss of me!"
In response, Patrick begins to laugh so hard he has to wrap his arms around his aching stomach. "Oh, by the gods!" he exclaims, wiping away a tear. He mimics Aidan's complaint in a whiny voice. "You're not the boss of me! Dude, what are you, like, twelve?"
Aidan juts out his chin and leans in, his posture defiant. "You know what, Patrick? I'm just about done with your attitude. I may be young, but I'm not stupid. And I won't let you boss me around just because you're two years older!"
Patrick props his fists on his hips, unconsciously mirroring Aidan's stance. "All right, clearly this didn't sink in the first time," he says evenly. "So, let me rephrase this so as not to offend your 'delicate sensibilities'." He makes air quotes around the last bit. "I don't know if you've noticed this, but we Shifters can be a bit quick-tempered and easily offended. So, comments like the one you made earlier, you know, about the broken-down caravans and crappy holiday parks? Yeah, something like that might just get you thrown into Shifter solitary, or if the Shifter is in a really bad mood, get you killed!"
Aidan, still dubious, looks to Farid for support.
Farid winces as he shrugs apologetically. "I kind of agree with Patrick on this one, Aidan. No offense, but you're a lot like Sebastian. You don't really have much of a filter. And while that's not always a bad quality," Farid adds, raising his hands apologetically. "In a somewhat diplomatic mission like this, it's probably best to take Patrick's advice and follow his lead."
His mouth agape, Aidan looks back and forth between Farid and Patrick. He's so offended, it's as if he'd just been betrayed by a secret brotherhood. Deep down, he recognizes that Farid's most likely right, but of course, he doesn't want to admit it.
So, instead he sulks, turning around in a huff and flamboyantly and petulantly unpacks his bag.
*****
A/N - Oooh... Patrick and Aidan... yikes! 😬
Pay close attention to the initial one-on-one conflict pairings. There will be many. But let's just say you'll be surprised if, and how, they get resolved in the end. And as the author, they were a heck of a lot of fun to write! Remember, drama is all about conflict. 😁
~ Paula ❤️