Black Dog Short Stories IV Read online

  Black Dog Short Stories

  IV

  Black Dog #8

  Rachel Neumeier

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is entirely coincidental.

  © 2022 Rachel Neumeier

  Cover art and design © by Midnight Coffee 2022

  Contents

  DIPLOMACY BY OTHER MEANS

  A PLACE TO BELONG

  NOVAYA ZEMLYA

  FAMILY REUNION

  DIMILIOC FOR DUMMIES

  Endnotes

  Other Works By Rachel Neumeier

  Acknowledgements

  DIPLOMACY BY OTHER MEANS

  This story is set about five months after the events of Copper Mountain

  “You want me to what?” Thaddeus demanded. “By myself? No way.”

  The Master of Dimilioc tilted his head, raising his eyebrows. That meant, Would you like to rephrase that? And, okay, yeah, maybe Thaddeus had better not stop there. He spread his hands and glanced down, conceding the point. “I mean, if you say so, fine.” Then he looked up again. “But, listen, I’m pretty sure I’m the wrong man for this kind of job. Ethan—”

  “I need Ethan here. Also, I specifically want you to do this for us, Thaddeus.”

  Not a lot of give in that. Not in the words or the tone or the manner. Inflexible. Thaddeus had known the Master of Dimilioc long enough to get that he wasn’t going to change his mind. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “You want me to do it? Why? I’m not a—a diplomat, Grayson. You want someone smooth, a guy who always knows what to say, that’s Ethan. Or James, or Étienne. Somebody like that, somebody who came up in a house, not on the street. Knocking a few heads together—that, I could do. I’d be real glad to do that. Diplomacy, not so much.”

  Grayson waited for Thaddeus to stop. He had leaned back in his chair, calm, relaxed, patient, and immovable. You could argue with him, his attitude made that clear. That was allowed. It just wouldn’t help.

  He said, “If I needed someone familiar with old-fashioned forms and courtesies, I would indeed send Ethan, James or Étienne. That specific knowledge base is not required for this task. Michael Kerr and his people do not constitute an established house. You won’t need to approach them with that sort of formality. Instead, you’ll simply project complete dominance without a trace of disdain. That’s exactly what’s required here.”

  “But—” Thaddeus began, but broke off, frowning, because actually that sort of made sense. Disdain was Étienne Lumondière’s middle name, and Ethan didn’t have the strength to project real dominance.

  Grayson nodded, following his thoughts without effort. “Thaddeus, you know what we want and why; you won’t lose sight of our goals here, even if you’re provoked. If you discover a need to knock heads together, you’ll certainly be able to do that. While it’s true you may not express yourself as smoothly as, for example, my nephew, sometimes sheer power and plain speaking are ideally suited to a task. I think that’s likely to be the case here.” He glanced down at the papers on his desk. There were always piles of papers on that desk; Thaddeus was only beginning to understand what some of those were and why they mattered.

  After a second, Grayson met his eyes again. “If that’s all?”

  Thaddeus shook his head—not meaning No, definitely not refusing the order, but just showing he didn’t get it. Or didn’t like it. Which he didn’t. But … Grayson wasn’t annoyed yet. Obviously it’d be better to quit while that was still true. So he said, “Well, if you’re sure. I mean, yes, all right. Fine.”

  “Ethan will provide you with relevant briefing materials. Pick those up tonight. You’ll leave early tomorrow. Bea will expect you at six. She’s filed a flight plan and cleared the necessary paperwork to enter Canadian airspace. You should arrive in Grande Prairie around ten in the morning. The drive up toward the Wapiti River settlement should take less than three hours. If all goes well, you may be able to bring the whole business to a satisfactory conclusion in short order and return tomorrow evening. However, what with one thing and another, I would not be surprised if this task requires a few days to sort everything out. There’s no rush, but I’ll expect you to return with a positive report and, preferably, a Kerr representative, in, let’s say, no more than three days.” He paused. Then he added, in exactly the same tone, “Should you fail to return within that time, a forceful response will be rapidly forthcoming. Should diplomacy prove inadequate, feel free to make that clear.”

  “Right,” Thaddeus said. “I mean …” He sighed. “Right. Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Have a pleasant trip, Thaddeus. Preferably a successful one.”

  That seemed to be it. At least, at that point, Grayson lifted the top paper on one stack and frowned at it. Thaddeus sighed, turned his back, stepped to the door, paused, glanced back. Nothing. Grayson already looked like he was completely absorbed by whatever other project he was working on. Probably a dozen different projects. Thaddeus shook his head and left him to it.

  “I know,” Ethan agreed, mildly sympathetic but not one bit helpful. “I already talked it over with Grayson. He’s set on you taking this mission—and he’s not wrong. You can handle this, Thad.”

  Thaddeus leaned in the doorway, his arms folded, scowling at Ethan. The Master’s nephew was generally more helpful than this. But right now, he mostly looked distracted and irritated. Ethan had picked up a lot of paperwork himself over the past couple months—lot of tabs showing on his laptop right now—and he didn’t much like it. Lately he’d begun explaining way too much of it to Thaddeus, who didn’t care for it either.

  “Go straight in, lay everything out real clear, and get them to agree to everything we need,” Ethan went on. “You’ll be by far the strongest black dog present. Strength isn’t everything, but it’s a lot. Plus, you’ll also be Grayson’s representative. Dimilioc’s representative. You’ll outrank everybody, no matter whether you’re standing in the heart of our territory or theirs. I expect he told you that’s your basic job—stand there radiating dominance and get them to agree to everything we need from them. What part of that doesn’t work for you?”

  Thaddeus tried not to snarl. “The part where they say no and I have to change their minds. Or the part where they say yes, but not to everything important. Or the part where any damn thing goes wrong and I don’t know what to do. You know that’s going to happen. Any mission more complicated than tear off all the heads and that always happens.”

  Ethan grinned. “Yeah, I grant, sometimes it seems like it.” Abandoning his laptop, he leaned back in his chair. “Why don’t you quit looming over there and sit down.” He waited for Thaddeus to cross the room, drop onto the couch and stretch his arms out along the back. Then he went on. “You can complain—and I sympathize, I really do—but you’re perfect for this job, Thad. You know what we want: somebody reliable taking responsibility for a big chunk of territory in western Canada, particularly southwestern Canada, preferably in time to be of real use when we need them. You know what those people have been handling so far: those damned spooky wendigo creatures. You know they’re doing a good job with that. They’re following Dimilioc law, either because they know what they’re doing or because they’ve figured out on their own how to live alongside human people without getting into trouble. They’ve definitely got that figured out, given the nice press they’re getting up there.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “But nothing. You’ll sound real sincere when you tell them Dimilioc thinks they’re doing a decent job—you’re good at that. You’ll sound just as sincere when you explain what else we need from them and why they should take our offer. They’ll believe what you tell them. You’re so obvi
ously straightforward. If James laid it out for them, they’d wonder what kind of deadly surprise he was hiding. If Étienne did it, they’d realize he thinks they’re barely a step above cur strays. If I did it, they’d look at me and decide Dimilioc doesn’t have the power to enforce our demands. You won’t have any of those problems.”

  “No,” Thaddeus growled. “I’ll have some other kind of problem. If he sent you, he’d send me with you—maybe a couple of other wolves too. That’d be better. Safer. A bigger show of strength, a better guarantee against all kinds of problems. Why not do it that way?”

  Ethan, damn him, just laughed. “Oh, no. That wouldn’t work nearly as well. You’re a serious show of strength all by yourself. I’d only detract from that. Almost anybody else would detract from that. You’ll be the very first Dimilioc wolf these people have ever seen. Think about that, Thad.”

  Huh. Well. That was a point. Still … Thaddeus said, “They’ll know you can’t all be as strong as me.”

  “Nope. They won’t know that. They won’t think like that. They won’t stop and reason it out. Every black dog there will look at you and feel Dimilioc strength. You’ll win everything we need just because you’re there on your own. Nobody else could make that work.”

  “Pretty sure I can’t make it work either.” But this time Thaddeus sounded half-hearted even to himself. He waved away Ethan’s answer before he could make it. “No, fine. I get it. I don’t know if it’ll work, but I get it.”

  “Right.” Ethan snagged a folder off his desk and held it out. “You know some of this already. A lot of the rest is just guesswork.” He paused as Thaddeus opened the folder and thumbed through the contents. Then he went on. “Michael Kerr, he’s the dominant black dog there, we’re pretty sure. Man’s probably somewhere in his fifties—there’s a photo in that packet you’ve got there. He’ll be at the peak of his strength, which will mean he’s still way below your level. He’s holding half a dozen or so black dogs in his pack. Holding may not be the right term. Maybe not pack either. He may not have forced them into subordination—we don’t think so. Going from pictures, we’re pretty sure they’re mostly related. Sons, brothers, cousins. That makes this practically a house. Michael isn’t going to trust us. Damn sure he won’t want to surrender one of his people to us. You get to turn that around.”

  Thaddeus snorted.

  “No, seriously. Every word out of your mouth will be the gospel truth. Kerr will see that. Anybody would see it. But you won’t give an inch. He’ll see that too.”

  “Huh.” Thaddeus turned a page in the folder, looked at an aerial map. Turned the page again to find a roadmap of the same area. Not a lot of roads. This place was right in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies. Endless evergreen forests, with the rocky peaks of the mountains thrusting out of the forest. Harsh country, lots of space, not a lot of people. No wonder black dogs had settled there. “Humans too, right? Plus at least one Pure woman.” That last wasn’t a question. They were sure about that much.

  Ethan nodded. “Only way this group makes sense is if they’ve got a Pure woman. Or someone Pure anyway,” he added, a nod to the possibility there could be, somewhere in the world, another Pure male like Justin. “So, yeah, at least one. That’ll make things easier for you—probably—in some ways. But when you tell ’em who you are, the first thing they’ll think—”

  “That I might be there to kill ’em all, but I’m definitely there to bring anybody Pure into Dimilioc. Whether they want to come or not.” Thaddeus didn’t mention anything about the way he and DeAnn had been forced into Dimilioc. That had been rough. But maybe not a lot rougher than necessary. Or if it had been, he’d come to terms with that a long time ago.

  But he didn’t plan to handle these black dogs up in Canada the same way.

  Ethan was looking at him with steady understanding. “When you lay this out, if Michael Kerr’s got any sense at all, he’ll believe you. If he decides to be uncooperative, pitch it past him to his people. Rearrange the power structure up there if you need to—pull the Pure out if you need to—decide what has to happen and make it happen. Unless you totally screw this up, Grayson will back you.”

  “Oh, that’s real comforting.” But Thaddeus sighed, half a growl. “Fine. I’ll do my best. If I do screw it up, it’s Grayson’s fault for putting this on me.”

  “Yeah, he knows that.”

  That wasn’t the response Thaddeus had expected.

  “He always knows that,” Ethan said, impatience creeping into his tone. “That’s always true.”

  Thaddeus stared at him. Then he shook his head. “I wouldn’t take the Mastery if you handed it to me on a silver platter with little sprinkles of diamond dust all over it.”

  “Yeah, you say that now.” But Ethan waved away any argument. “Just as well I’m not going. I have plenty of other crap to deal with.” He gave his waiting laptop a disgusted gesture. “Wendigos in the north, those weird owl things in the south, some nasty serpent monster eating people in Belize, God-damned witches on top of every other damn thing … we need those people, Thad, and we need them willing if we can get them that way. Get them to sign on the dotted line. In blood, but preferably not literally.” He gestured to the folder, which Thaddeus had closed and set aside on the couch. “Look that over. Any questions, toss ’em my way, but I probably won’t know the answers. You know Bea’ll have her plane ready at six tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.” But Thaddeus didn’t move.

  Ethan eyed him. “It’s not just the mission. You’re worried because DeAnn’s pregnant. You don’t want to leave her. You don’t want to tell her you’re leaving for a bit, I bet.”

  This time, Thaddeus’ growl was wordless.

  Ethan nodded. “Yeah, in your place, I wouldn’t be real happy about any of that either. But getting this handled will put Dimilioc in a better position. You’ve got the best chance to get it handled. DeAnn’ll understand that. She’ll be fine. She’s not due for what, six weeks?”

  “Five. And three days.”

  “Right. Nothing will happen to her. She’ll be fine. If anything even thinks of going wrong, she’s not on her own, she’s here. Put your mind on the mission. You’ll be back in a day, maybe two or three. I’m sure Grayson will have something else lined up for you by then.”

  Thaddeus eyed Ethan without enthusiasm. “As long as it doesn’t involve diplomacy.” But everything Ethan had said was true. “Fine,” he rumbled. “Fine. I’ll get it done. Maybe not very diplomatically. But I’ll get it handled.”

  Ethan grinned at him. “You sure will. Pity I’m not going. I’d like to watch. Got the folder? Fine. Go have a nice evening with DeAnn, and I’ll look forward to reading your report when you get back.”

  Thaddeus growled and mimed throwing the folder at him, which only made Ethan’s grin widen.

  “I know,” DeAnn said, not unsympathetically. She handed Thaddeus the platter of pork chops and nodded for Paloma to pass the buttered peas down the table. It was a solid piece of furniture, that table, big for the room, but black dogs liked room to spread out. Thaddeus needed plenty of elbow room himself. He had a big, heavy chair at one end of the table, with DeAnn around the table at the side. Paloma liked to sit right next to Conway instead of across the table, so the other end of the table was mostly for anybody else who happened to join them for a family meal.

  DeAnn went on. “If it wasn’t this, it’d be something else. It’d be a complete waste to keep you hovering here doing nothing in particular. Getting a group like that one up in Canada to trust a Dimilioc wolf is going to be a trick and a half. You’re just the guy for that job.”

  Thaddeus sighed. Seemed like everybody agreed on that one.

  “If they’ve got a Pure woman up there, that’ll help. She’ll know you’re just as Calm as they come. Con, I know you weren’t raised in a barn, but it’d be nice if other people could tell that too. Sit down and eat that with a fork.”

  Conway glowered rebelliously, but only for a second. Tha
ddeus didn’t have to look at his son. It was hard for a black dog kid to sit still; harder for him to take orders from someone he knew wasn’t strong enough to enforce them, but after just that second, Con smoothed out his expression, dropped into his chair, put the pork chop he’d picked up back on his plate, and reached for a fork. Little Paloma didn’t reach to touch him—the rule was, hands to yourself at the table—but she looked up and smiled at Con. The boy smiled back, unwillingly, but unable to help himself. The Pure were like that, and the two of them were real close.

  That was good, real good, because young as he was, anyone could see how strong Conway’s Beast was. It’d get stronger. A lot stronger. Close to somebody Pure was good for any black dog, but even more important for a black dog as strong as that kid was going to get. Probably he’d be just about as strong as Thaddeus one day. Pretty close for sure.

  The new baby would be a black dog too. Thaddeus had half hoped for a daughter, a Pure girl. But another black dog would be fine. Probably a boy, could be a girl, fine either way. The important thing would be making sure Con was good with the baby. Conway wasn’t going to feel the same way about a black dog brother as he did about a Pure sister. He’d be pushy with that kind of brother. Dominant. That was fine, as long as he was dominant and protective. Not jealous.

  Paloma would help there too. But even the influence of the Pure might not be enough. That was something his father had to teach him—or other Dimilioc wolves. They would teach a boy how to be a brother. Ethan could do that. Grayson. Some of the others. Thaddeus knew that. He even trusted that. But, something like this, he trusted himself most of all.

  He said, “Listen, Con. This mission might not take all that long and that’s fine. But while I’m gone, it’s your job to protect your momma and your sister. Anything happens, you won’t let it happen to them. Right?”