Jenna claps. “Well done, Lupa! Can I help you at all?” I see her glance out of the corner of her eye toward Gunthreon. He pretends to not hear her.
“Why, yes, you can. Come on over here, and I
’ll show you how to make some root flowers.” Jenna springs up and follows Lupa.
It takes some time
before Jenna runs over to show me her blooming root flower, clearly proud of her accomplishment. But as she runs to me, her eyes widen at the sight of something at the entrance of the cave, right behind me.
Chapter 37
Welcomed
I
’m afraid to turn around, but for fear of something attacking me from behind, I whirl around anyway, grabbing my spade. My eyes adjust to the figure standing in the doorway, and I only see the silhouette. I wonder where Bu is, and why he slacked off at his job already.
We all stand on guard with our weapons in our hands, ready for a fight if need be. The figure moves forward into our firelight, and it
’s a small female—a thin, meek, scrawny woman, shorter than me. She moves a bit closer, and I see she’s a plain, unattractive brunette with thick librarian reading glasses on her face and a giant mole the size of Texas on her chin. She wears dirty, torn, baggy, clothes, in odd, mismatching colors. In reaching her energy, I feel the strangest sensations, all coming in flashes. First confidence, then boredom, then surprise, then anger. It makes me dizzy and unable to focus. She eyes me, carefully.
“How can we help you, dear lady?” Gunthreon moves forward toward her, looking out behind her to where Bu should be.
The woman speaks in a fragile voice, “I was just wondering if you could help a fellow traveler who needs company, and possibly some food?”
Lupa looks her over and pulls some bread out of her bag. “You may have this, honey. If you
’d like to sit near the fire with us, you are more than welcome.”
Jenna sneaks over to Conner, and I hear her whisper, “She
’s powerful.”
Conner grabs his blade and holds the stranger back before she can even approach the fire. “What is your name, and what are your intentions?” He says it in soulspeak, asking her soul to reply.
“Leave her alone!” Lupa shouts, nearly screaming. “She just wants to eat, for Neda’s sake.” Gunthreon says nothing, but watches closely. I move to stand near Conner and Jenna.
The woman freezes in place and smiles at Conner. “I mean no harm,” she says. “I am known as Fannie, and I am hoping to find an elusive creature.”
Jenna whispers, for my ears only this time: “She’s a giver.” I furrow my brow because she lost me. “You know, of life and death.”
I step toward the stranger. “We are also on a mission for an elusive creature,” I say. “We have room for one more, as one of our party abandoned
us. We’re probably better off without him, though, because he liked to whine.” Fannie’s face contorts, and she steps toward me. Everyone moves in unison, but before anyone can stop me, I run at Fannie, grab her, and give her the hardest kiss on her cheek I possibly can.
For a moment, Fannie is as stunned as everyone else, but then she giggles. The giggle turns manly, and within seconds, Fannie
’s head becomes Ladimer’s. Bu then enters the cave and starts laughing, because the sight of Ladimer’s head on a little itty-bitty body is quite comedic. Finally, Ladimer fully transforms.
Ladimer nods at Conner, and Conner returns the nod. “You
’ve got to work on your soulspeak questions,” says Ladimer. “Be more specific.”
“Yes, I see that now.” I can tell he is fighting between the relief of having another strong soldier back in our travelling party and his strong feelings of competition against Ladimer. He simply walks away and out of the cave.
“How did you know?” Ladimer asks.
I point to Jenna. “Nice try, though,” I say.
“Oh, I see,” Ladimer responds.
Jenna stares wide-mouthed at him. “You know
him
?”
Ladimer smiles
at me. “Soulsearching now, eh?” I blush, because the last time I saw him, he saw
all
my goods. He sees my embarrassment and grins widely. “You’d better learn how to control it, karmelean.”
“I
’m sorry I gave you away, Ladimer, sir,” whimpers Jenna. “I was only trying to protect my friends.”
Ladimer tilts his head to the side. “Wow, Kailey, you
’ve befriended a woodsprite? They don’t really have friends, you know.”
Jenna
’s face blushes, but she still walks up to Ladimer and holds out her hand. Ladimer is resistant. “I am Jenna, and I’m glad to meet you. I’ve heard great stories about you. Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything stupid here.” Again I see her eyes move to Gunthreon.
“Gunthreon runn
ing you through the ringer?” asks Ladimer. “Well, any foe of Gunthreon’s is a friend of mine.”
“Nice,” replie
s Gunthreon.
Ladimer starts laughing. “I don
’t mean to spoil the party,” he says, “but I did see some mooncats moving this way on my way in.” Our laughter stops all too quickly. “To be honest, the mooncats don’t really care for me, so I had to make this transformation. I thought this one would be the least threatening.” He once again transforms into Fannie.
I notice one thing. “You got rid of your scar.”
“No need to keep ugly reminders, right?”
“Thanks, Ladimer.” Gunthreon shuffles all of us together near the fire. “Just remember, we
’re here for information on Neda—nothing else. No moonlit strolls or parties!” He sees my odd expression after his comment. “Kailey, remember when I said that you must always be with someone?” I nod. “The mooncats have power that can cost you your humanity.” He pauses. “They can make you one of them.”
I shudder, then actually give that option a thought. “They can make me an actual cat? Tail and all?” I think what it might be like to be a cat, and the lounging about all day makes me consider it, but only briefly. I don’t think I’d like mouse too much. Too lean.
“That is how we lost Haren, who was one of Bu’s best friends. Bu saw it happen. They got Haren when he was enjoying the scenery by himself one beautiful summer evening. The mooncats are a tricky race, and can get you to do things without thinking twice. This is the last time I will tell you to be careful.”
As Gunthreon finishes his sentence, Bu catches our attention with a whistle.
“They’re here,” Gunthreon sings, in
Poltergeist
fashion. Bu and Conner stay outside, waiting for us to join them. I want to pee in my pants as Gunthreon pulls me aside and whispers, “If what they say is true about this Michel, you may want to pretend you’re already ‘involved’ with someone. It may help.”
As we step into view, I am suddenly in awe of the brood before me. About six giant cats prowl around the cave
’s entrance, and they seem to be of all different varieties. I recognize Nayla and wave hello, and she purrs back loudly. One cat in particular just sits, watching everything going on around him. He stares me down as I proceed to leave the cave and step out fully before him. I assume this is Michel, and I bow before him. If he’s like a king to them, I feel he deserves this courtesy.
Gunthreon walks between us, shielding me from Michel, and I decide to stand next to Conner. “Blessings, great king,” says Gunthreon. “We are a traveling band searching for any information you may have on the Higher Ones
’ whereabouts. We mean you no harm.” Nayla sniffs the air in Fannie’s direction. Though I hope Ladimer’s cover doesn’t get blown, I have to wonder why the mooncats dislike him so much. It’s probably one of the “many stories” I keep hearing about.
Michel sits still before us, only his eyes moving—large, gorgeous tiger eyes. His physique is much like a tiger
’s, but he’s a bit bulkier, with huge muscles rippling under his skin, like the big burly guys at the gym who make love to themselves in the mirror.
For a giant cat, he is handsome and alluring. “I welcome you to Socola, if you indeed mean us no harm,” he says. “I am wondering what you have brought as a gift for the king. This is our custom, y
ou know.” He stares at me again and suddenly, his arrogance is like a slap to the face. I take a few baby steps closer toward Conner and grab his arm. He does not object and slightly flexes his muscles.
Jenna disappears behind Bu
’s leg and he picks her up and holds her gently.
As Gunthreon takes a bit long with his reply, I wonder if he did, in fact, know of this custom. All the other cats still walk about slowly, except for Nayla, who sits, slightly in front of Michel, like a bodyguard. Her tail gently swishes back and forth. She gets up and rubs herself against Michel, and he purrs underneath his breath. As she does, I see her sneak a whisper in his ear. He laughs.
“Nayla is very much hoping your gift is the red one, and to be honest, I think I am, too.”
Conner speaks this time, in soulspeak, as he lets everyone know that “the red one” is taken. I realize he must really think so, if he
’s able to say it. He adds that, unless someone is willing to fight, it will stay that way. I worry that that sounds too much like an offer.
“Of course we have brought you a gift,” says Gunthreon quickly. “But as king, you should know that
our
kind do not give away friends as gifts.”
“Yes, of course. One can only hope that maybe one day you will change your ways. What have you brought me?” Michel sniffs the air.
Lupa places her pack on the ground, reaches in deeply, and removes the butcher’s package. She then walks to Michel, lays it before him, and opens it up. “I hope you are pleased with our gift.” Lupa bends down her head.
“A pig? That is it?” Michel examines the pig. He must then see something he likes, for he licks his lips.
“Not just any pig,” replies Lupa. “A pregnant female, farm-raised, who fed off the highest-quality feed.”
Gunthreon better have done well
, I think.
Michel once again licks his chops. “I see the branding. You
’ve brought us a rather nice gift: a Bushingshire export. I accept your gift,” he says. “They rarely sell their pregnant pigs, for there is a shortage of females, I hear. Thank you.” All the cats seem to move a bit closer to Michel, hoping for a taste. He growls underneath his breath, but allows Nayla to sniff the pig. She smells its belly and proceeds slowly to cut it open with her claw, licking the blood as it trickles down and over the crisp, white butcher paper. Once the piglets are exposed, she walks away, leaving the way open for Michel.
I glance at Bu and see a trickle of light slide down his face. He hides it quickly, and I hope nobody else sees this sign of weakness. He
’s supposed to be our bodyguard, and tough, badass bodyguards do not cry about piglets.
Jenna strokes Bu, trying to comfort him. When a giant tabby moves a bit too close to him, Jenna bares her teeth. Gunthreon was right about her resembling a wolverine; her teeth could probably shred through the toughest leather without her breaking a sweat.
One of the other cats, a long-haired beauty, kind of reminds me of Amber. She seems high-maintenance, and has the greenest eyes I have ever seen. She keeps licking herself and stroking her fur with her paw, ignoring what’s transpiring around her. This reminds me that I’d still like to have a conversation with Gunthreon about the lovebirds, and whether or not Amber might know of Renhala.
My mind stops wandering once Michel decides to start eating the pig sprawled out before him. I have to look away, and Conner just hugs me, letting me bury my face into his shoulder. I still have to peek, though.
It’s like a train wreck. Michel pulls out each piggy, then actually crunches them, like he’s eating a handful of chips. Dark, rich, red blood circles his mouth, and he makes no attempt to wipe it off. He takes the last piglet and throws it to Nayla, who savors it while she eats. Michel then eats the fatty parts of the mother, sucking on the enlarged nipples and staring up at me while doing so. This disturbs me greatly and also Lupa, for her energy reeks of disgust and loathing. It’s strongly repulsive. Once he is full, Michel walks away and lets the rest of the cats feed. They rush in and attack the food, fighting for the best leftovers.
“I am willing to
share information with you,” states Michel, “but there is one favor I request.”
Gunthreon turns angry quickly. “We have given you a great gift, which you have recognized, so what more could you expect of us?”
“I want you to share food and conversation with us at a gathering tomorrow night,” he says. “You shall be our guests of honor. We will not take no for an answer.” At this last remark, all the cats enclose us in a circle. They are motionless, and awaiting movement from us.
This sounds like a party to me
.
My monk
’s spade is warm, and I feel the heat from Conner’s own blade rising. Gunthreon locks eyes with Michel, and I feel his power of persuasion creeping over us. “Dear king, would it not be better for you to give us what we ask? We will leave your land with no quarrel.”
Michel laughs. “Oh, your powers will not work on me. Have you forgotten what I am? Are
cats
not known for being surly and insusceptible to persuasion?”
Gunthreon smiles at Michel and bows. “You are indeed powerful. We must
agree to join you at your ‘gathering.’”
But I
’m surprised, because I know that, for some reason Gunthreon did not do his best. His weak energy was quickly expelled.
What is he planning?
He and the newest member of our party, Fannie, make eye contact.