The Society of Secret Cats (2 page)

BOOK: The Society of Secret Cats
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She was right; among the many spider-eyes and the snapping jaws, a pattern of splotches on the hairs of the
Aranea
formed a face, a lovely cat-lady

s face that seemed to wink as the wind rippled the hairs.


Stop that,

I said, and the cat-lady

s face laughed.

The spider said,

I suppose,

and the face faded into the spider-hairs
.

Suddenly, the forest seemed to part like a pair of gauzy curtains across a breezy window, and a dream-walker stepped through:
a cat.


Hello, cousin,

said the cat politely.
She had calico fur and a collar made of something shimmering and bright, like fish scales.
Her tail was like the thinnest, most delicate, beckoning finger, and her smell was like
rich
perfume.

I see you are in some difficulty.

Nevertheless, I stepped between her and my girl.

Who are you?


I am Slide,

she said.

I am a member of the Society of Secret Cats, and I am here to return you and your charge to your own dreams.

She walked closer to me, but I did not step away from my girl.


I have no intention of hurting you or your child,

Slide said.

However, if you would follow me, I will guide you back to the lands you know.

She stopped within paw

s reach and tilted her head b
ack a little, baring her throat, which, among cats, is very much like a bow.

I cleared my throat

I felt awkward, like my fur was out of place.
I brushed my paws down my sides quickly, then picked up Jaela and purred to her for a moment, almost more to reassure myself than her.


We will be all right,

I told her.

I will keep you safe.


Ferntail,

she said.

I don

t like that cat.
She will scratch me.

I looked back at Slide, who was licking her paw and bathing her face with it.
I didn

t see any reason not to like her, but it was all very strange.


Lead on,

I said.
What else could I do?

 

Slide did not take us through the curtains of dream, the way she had come.
Apparently, it was a way that could only be used by the Society of Secret Cats, and not by humans.
If I were to go through such a way, I would have to promise my loyalties to the Society, and leave Jaela behind, to be guarded by a mere kitten
instead
, and that I could not bear.
Jaela was like a kitten to me, even though at six, she was old enough to be my mother.

As we walked through the forest, I saw that the Aranea followed us.
The way the spider-kin traveled was to wait until we were almost out of sight, then cast a thin line of web, almost invisible, through the trees.
As the line of web touched a far tree, a little bit ahead of us, the web would disappear, and the spider-kin would appear where the web had touched.
In such a way, the Aranea could travel as fast as we.

We did not travel as fast as we had when I had run.
As I said, I am very fast.


Do you need to slow down?

Slide asked, after a time.

Or to rest?


Not a bit,

I said
, running at a pleasant speed
.

Keep going.
The sooner Jaela is back in her bed, the better.

We ran and we ran, and the sounds of the Azdaja faded behind us.


Now are you tired?

Slide asked.


No.

We ran and we ran, for a short way or a long way, and through the gaps between the trees, I saw that the moon never moved, that time never passed.
Even though time did not pass, I began to become tired.

Not the kind of tired that comes from too much running, the but kind of tired that comes from too little sleep.


Now are you tired?

Slide asked.


Yes,

I said.

But keep running.


We are almost there,

answered she.

Jaela whimpered on my shoulder.
I slowed to a trot and looked at her.
Here, in dreams, she appeared to be asleep, and having bad dreams.
I did not know how that might be possible, but it was so.

I looked around and saw a clearing in the trees, a place where Slide might watch over us while I tried to find out what monster inside a dream-within-a-dream might be haunting my child.


Here,

I said.

We must rest.
Jaela is asleep, and something is inside her dream.
You must protect us from the Azdaja and whatever monsters may come, including
that
.

I pointed at the Aranea, who lingered at one of the trees at the edge of the forest, watching us with glittering eyes and the pattern of a cat

s face in its hair, with wide, crazy eyes.


No,

it said.

You cannot stop here.
You must not stop here.
Not in a clearing.
Never in a clearing.

But I didn

t listen to it; the call to sleep was too much.
I laid Jaela in the long, thick grass, then shifted into cat form and curled up beside her, purring, to sleep.

 

I woke up, stretched, and yawned so widely that my tongue curled in my mouth.
I was
a small cat
on top of Jaela, and we were back in her room.
It smelled like a real place, and not like a place in dreams (for some reasons, humans do not create the smells of things in their dreams very often).
I jumped off the bed and went in search of water, because my mouth was as dry as a bone
carved into the shape of a tongue, and
has been left in the sun for a hundred years.

As I lapped water from my water-dish, I heard the crystal whine of claws screeching against glass and looked up.
Outside the glass door to the patio, Slide was running her claws against the glass.

I padded over to the glass.


Let me in,

she said.

I looked up at the latch.
I could easily open the lock, but I could never push the heavy door out of the way.


Not here,

I said.

Go around the house until you find the open window next to the pink and yellow curtains.
That is my princess

s room.

She sauntered away, showing the curl of her ta
il, and I skipped back to Jaela’
s room.

She was having a nightmare, her face turning back and forth on her pillow, her dark hair sticking in long threads to the edges of her mouth.
As I sniffed her breath, I heard a scratch at the window.


Let me in,

Slide said.


Just a minute,

I answered.
I licked the edge of Jaela

s ear, which is usually all it takes to wake her up, but she only moaned and turned her head away.
I purred in worry, pushing my paws against her blanket, for a moment turned back into a little kitten who knew nothing about dreams.

I would have to go into her dreams.
Perhaps, when I had woken, she had not come with me, and even now, she was dreaming horrible things.

I lay down beside her an slept, even as Slide scratched at the window.

 


Let me in,

a deep voice called.

Let meeee in.


Not by the whiskers of my chinny-chin-chin,

I muttered.
The place was dark and full of stone, wet, and smelly.
I didn

t see Jaela anywhere...but I saw a line of web leading from one low doorway to another.
The web twitched.
I picked a direction and ran toward one of the doors, following the web.

The web led me to a white Aranea

s nest, which looks like a tangle of white cotton candy rather than a proper spider

s web.
The nest filled up one corner of the room, with
a tiny black hole near one wall
.

I crept up to the door and looked inside.
Jaela was inside, shivering and ripping bits of web off her.


I can

t get out,

she said.

Please, Ferntail.
Help me.


Spider-kin!

I roared.

I will murder you.
I will eat you up.
I will crunch you like a snack and spit you out and leave you bleeding while I crunch you again.

A hiss of laughter echoed down the strange stone corridors, but it sounded far away.


Let meeee in,

the deep voice boomed.

I
slashed
open the nest.
Web stuck to my paws, but I didn

t care. I shifted form until I was like a gray lion with my luxurious tail streaming behind me.


Get on my back and hang on, my princess,

I said.

Jaela crawled out of the nest as best she could, still covered with web.
When she climbed onto my back, the stickiness of it helped hold her close to me.

I turned and ran down the corridor, my paws as silent as night.

If I had run quickly before, that was nothing to the speed with which I ran now.
I followed the thread of web from corridor to corridor, through a maze that seemed to change around me.
But always the booming demands and the hissing laughter became louder rather than quieter, closer rather than further away.

I could have run for
but
a moment.
I could have run for a year.
I did not know which it was, that place was so twisted around and around on itself.

I do know that Jaela stopped whimpering and shivering, and that something formed in her hand that shimmered with heat and shone light before us.

I do know that between here and there, my paws skipped past some places, jumping from shadow to shadow with miles and miles between them, untouched.

And then we were there:
the stone walls fell away, and we were in a great cave.
A crack ran across the cave from one side to the other.

The web led to the Aranea, on the same side of the crack as we.

On the other side of the crack, was a thing of darkness and fire, so big that it could barely turn.
It seemed as though it ought to be able to step over the crack easily, yet it could not.

Where it
touched
, the fire and darkness of it erased rocks, widened the cavern, and shuddered the earth.
Underneath it the rock heated red-hot, and its feet, which I could not see except as part of its fire and darkness, left deep gouges in the stone.


Let meeee in,

it roared.

It was the Azdaja.
I shivered.
As the Aranea had said, it would be better to let Jaela die than to let it through into the waking world, even for a moment.
And it would be more merciful to let the child pass into the worlds of death (which even we cats do not know how to walk) than to let that thing burn its way out of her body.

BOOK: The Society of Secret Cats
7.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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