“There, I’m in the forest,” Emma said, glancing behind her to check she was still in sight of the trailer. “Nothing to it, just a bunch of trees. Now will you teach me?”
“Well, I suppose this is better than nothing,” Jack said. He jumped onto a nearby tree and clawed his way up to the first branch, seven or eight feet off the ground. Then he sat and looked down at her. “Lesson one. Cat magic isn’t a trick. It’s not just making people think you look different or making them love you. That’s faerie magic. Cats only care about real things, and we don’t care who loves us.”
“What’s wrong with faerie magic?” Emma asked. “At least no one ever calls them crags, even if they are. They’re beautiful and rich and they live in fancy apartments in New Downtown. I mean, I’ve never seen one or anything, but illustrations of them are always all over the newspapers and Helena’s magazines. If that’s a trick, I wouldn’t mind —”
“No.” Jack sniffed disdainfully. “Faeries can make some people see what they want. Don’t you ever wonder why there are no photos of them? They make themselves look beautiful, sound beautiful, smell beautiful. It’s magic, that’s why they can’t be photographed. So of course humans fall in love with them. That’s why they live in the city while all the other crags live here.”
“Does faerie magic just work on humans?” Emma asked.
“Oh, it works on other creatures, too, but not in the same way. Dwarves see them as humans with gold or silver hair and skin that glitters like precious stones. A harpy would just see a human, but wouldn’t think they were beautiful, because harpies don’t think anything is beautiful. And trolls, well, it’s hard to tell what they’re ever thinking. Look at it this way. You could use faerie magic to make everyone think you were a panther, but you wouldn’t really be a panther. You wouldn’t feel like a panther. You’d feel like you do now, as if you just were wearing a costume. But with cat magic, you’d have real teeth and real claws and a hunter’s instinct.”
“So . . . what do I have to do?”
“You have to pay attention,” Jack said. “Cat magic is not just wanting things to be different. That’s not magic at all. That’s just stupid. You have to know. So . . . you’re going to swing your hand at this tree, and when you do you’re going to extend your claws. They’re going to come out, because they’ve always been there.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Emma said, wiggling her fingers. “I haven’t always had claws, and they’ve never come out because I don’t have them.”
“Well, that’s why it’s magic, isn’t it? Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
“Okay, I’ll try.” She tensed and tried to think about the claws she was supposed to have. Then she lashed out at the tree.
Her nails raked over the bark. She yelled loudly and clutched at her hand. One of her nails was broken.
“This is crazy. When’s the last time you even did any cat magic?”
“That’s not important. You never forget,” Jack said. “Never.” For a long moment he was quiet, and Emma thought he might have gone to sleep. Then he seemed to stir himself. “And that attitude is just holding you back. Now try again.”
“Maybe your bad teaching is holding me back,” Emma said. But she tried again. The results were even more painful than the last time, though she hadn’t swung nearly as hard. She’d managed to jar her hand badly, too, because now her palm was hurting.
“If you keep thinking you’re going to hurt yourself, you will,” Jack said. “You have to have complete confidence.”
“What if it doesn’t work for humans?”
“Well, it probably won’t work for lazy humans,” Jack said. “Think for a moment. You saw how your pride reacted when they heard your voice. They all stopped and listened to you. And I can see you sniffing at everything.”
“I am not!” Emma covered her nose with her hands. Had she been sniffing the air a moment ago? Now that she was thinking about it, she didn’t know. But here in the forest there was a faint scent of the heavy, dark wildness that she had tasted when she took the Heart’s Blood.
“Your nose is already better than most humans’,” Jack went on. “What did the pride smell like?”
Emma hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.”
“But it was familiar, wasn’t it?” Emma nodded, and Jack purred. “The Heart’s Blood knows your pride, even if you don’t yet. Stop stalling. Claws. Tree. Go!”
He was right. She had to believe in herself: She was the Pride-Heart, and she was going to learn cat magic, and she was going to find her sister. With a growl she swung hard at the tree with her right hand, then her left, right, left, again and again. The growl turned into a snarl, then a roar . . .
She stopped, out of breath. Her nails were a bloody mess, her fingers and palms scraped raw by the bark. Sharp pain throbbed in her right palm, at the base of each finger, like splinters she couldn’t see.
Emma sat down on the ground, holding her hands against her stomach and trying not to cry.
“You can’t be done already. It’s only a little blood,” Jack said. “We haven’t even gotten to lesson two yet.”
Emma glared at him. “And what’s that?”
“All normal cats can change themselves. But only the Pride-Heart can change others. She can even do it against their will. Except for faeries, of course. But you’ll never manage anything like that if you give up as soon as things get just a little rough.”
Emma sighed. “I’m tired, okay? I was attacked by giant cats two hours ago, and then I had to clean up the trailer, and now my hand hurts and all I want to do is go to sleep.” She yawned. She hadn’t quite realized how tired she was until she said it. She could barely keep her eyes open.
“Tired is good. Tired means your body is trying to use the Heart’s Blood, even if the magic’s not working properly yet. You can drain yourself dry if you’re not careful and you have to watch how much you let the pride take from you. The Pride-Heart is like a fountain of cat magic. Giving them magic will come naturally to you.” Emma thought again about that tugging sensation she’d felt as the cats drew on her magic, turning themselves into huge animals. “But you have to be careful. If they take too much, you’ll be too tired to move, and then they’ll be useless.”
“How do I know when they’re using too much?”
“I’m sure it will become obvious,” Jack said. “Right now we’re working on claws.”
“I don’t see how claws are going to help me find Helena. You said the pride would help me, but they’re not even here.”
“The pride will come back for magic once they feel the Heart’s Blood’s magic again, but you can’t depend on them to do everything for you. You’ll need to be able to fight, too.” He cocked his head. “If you don’t want claws, you could always try giving yourself some proper teeth. Claws are good, but it’s your teeth that get you the kill.”
“I never said I didn’t want them.” Emma had already decided that claws would be pretty useful to have. If she was a crag now, then she was going to take advantage of the good parts. She just wished her hand didn’t hurt so much. It was making it hard to concentrate. “I’d better get some rest.” She took a few shaky steps out of the forest and yawned again. “Just a little nap. Then we’ll try again.”
Jack sniffed, but followed her. “Well, that’s more useful than cleaning, at least.”
They walked back to the trailer together. Emma climbed over the fence, wincing as her hands scraped against the splintered wood.
Mr. Simbi was in his yard, lounging in his hot tub. “Already going into the forest, are we?” he called to her. “I figured it would take you at least a week. You humans just can’t help yourselves when it comes to magic. That’s probably why you’re all so scared of it. Like moths to a flame!”
Emma ignored him. He’d probably tell her parents, but Jack had said her dad was in the forest already, so he couldn’t say much. That would mean admitting to her mom that he’d left Emma home alone.
And her mom wouldn’t be back until late tonight, maybe even tomorrow if she was offered an extra shift. Hopefully it would be too dark for her to see what the cats had done to the trailer, too. That was the last thing her mom would want to deal with after a double shift.
“Tomorrow was supposed to be Helena’s birthday, you know,” she said to Jack. “I mean, I guess it still is . . . Dad always makes cassava cake for our birthday parties. It’s really good. But . . .”
But maybe Helena was dead. Maybe instead of a birthday party it should be a death day party, a gio, like they had for her grandfather every year, with incense and sticky rice balls. She really had to stop thinking like that. She would find Helena; she was out there somewhere.
“Cats don’t celebrate birthdays,” Jack said.
“Well, they should,” Emma said, trying to smile. “You get presents on your birthday. It’s fun.” They went into the trailer and Emma locked the door behind her. “We can celebrate yours if you want. I’ll get you something extra tasty to eat.”
Jack laughed in his strange cat way. “Since cats don’t bother with calendars, either, why don’t we just assume my birthday is tomorrow, too.”
“Deal,” Emma said, yawning again. She couldn’t remember walking into her room, but her bed was right there. She curled up on it. Jack was saying something to her, but it was too hard to pay attention, too much effort to open her eyes. She slept.
* * *
“Emma, turn off that alarm and get out of bed!”
Emma rubbed her eyes and sat up, blinking. Where was she? What time was it?
Her mom loomed over her, hospital smells still clinging to her.
Emma blinked again. Her alarm was going off. She didn’t remember setting it. “Sorry, Mom. I thought you were working all night.”
“I did work all night, and, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep,” her mom said. “Which means I need to get you to school.”
School? How could it be time for school? Emma reached out and banged on the alarm until it finally shut up, then peered at the time: 6:55 a.m. She’d been asleep for over twelve hours.
“Thank you,” her mom said. Satisfied that Emma was finally awake, she walked out of the room.
Emma poked Jack, who was asleep under her blanket and out of sight. “Why’d you let me sleep so long?”
“I was sleeping, too, you know,” Jack said, yawning widely and showing off his sharp teeth. “Your dad tried to wake you, but he gave up after you tried to scratch him. You’re a cat now. You’ll get used to it.”
Emma pushed herself out of bed. At least she was already dressed. She ran a brush through her long black hair and smoothed down her bangs.
“I don’t know why you’re bothering,” Jack said. “Pride-Hearts don’t need to go to school.”
“Try explaining that to my mom,” Emma said.
CRAG FACT OF THE DAY:
“All books of magic sold on eBay are fakes. Even if the photos look real, it’s still a scam.”
CraigWiki.org
Emma could barely keep her eyes open during the drive to school, but eventually she noticed that her mom kept glancing over at her.
“Your dad’s making cassava cake and pho, for tonight,” her mom said, eventually. She paused. “Are you going to be okay today? I know it’s tough having to go to school and act like everything’s normal.” She sighed. “It’s hard for me, too, going to work and thinking that she’s still out there somewhere.”
“Yeah,” Emma said. There didn’t seem to be much more to say to that. Or maybe there was too much more.
Her mom tried to smile. “Remember last year, when Helena kept pretending she was expecting a car for her birthday, just to see how worked up your dad would get? She even bought one of those little tree-shaped air fresheners.”
Emma nodded. “And she acted all excited when he got out his car keys to take us to dinner as if she thought he was going to give them to her.”
Their dad had grumbled about spoiled American teenagers and how their grandfather would have cried to see what this country had done to his grandchildren. Helena had burst out laughing and couldn’t stop for nearly half an hour. In the end, their dad had laughed, too. This year he’d been planning to get her a toy car as a joke.
Emma’s mom put a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe we should have let you stay home today. You know, if you need to talk to someone . . . maybe your school guidance counselor can help you. Would it help you to talk about things?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Emma said. “Once Helena’s back, everything’s going to be fine.”
They pulled into the school lot behind the other cars dropping kids off. “Emma, I know your dad still thinks he can find her, but —”
“I have to go,” Emma said quickly, opening the door. “I don’t want to miss breakfast.”
She hopped out of the car and walked quickly over to a set of double doors leading into the cafeteria. Other kids stood waiting to be let in, and Emma took her place at the end of the line. She was glad she wouldn’t have to see Marie yet. She wasn’t ready for it, especially not today. And why was she still so tired? She’d have thought the Heart’s Blood would have made her instantly magical somehow, rather than just sleepy. And it was getting annoying smelling everything and everyone. Didn’t anyone here shower?
“What are you doing? Don’t you know this is a human school?” Matt said, sidling up beside her with two of his friends. “Crags aren’t allowed.”
“Maybe I thought this was a crag school,” Emma said, surprising herself at her boldness. “I just saw all these rocks-for-brains trolls standing around in front of the doors and figured I had the right place.” She could tell by the look on Matt’s face that she’d just made things worse.
“Yeah, you have the right place, if you’re looking for trouble.” Matt shoved Emma out of line with one hand.
For an instant Emma felt the taste of the Heart’s Blood on the tip of her tongue. She smelled the wild darkness and heard the roar of a great cat. She hissed. She didn’t know why. Somehow it just seemed like the thing to do.
It actually startled Matt for a second, too, but then he just laughed. He had the world’s stupidest laugh.
“She hissed at me! Did you hear that? I think I should tell Ms. Keyes that she’s got some kind of ratter disease or something.”
“You better not touch me again,” Emma said. “I wasn’t a crag before, but I’m a Pride-Heart now.”
“A Pride-Heart?” Matt laughed. “What’s that supposed to be? Some kind of dork club you joined?”
More laughs. Emma felt her face grow hot. Her hand was hurting again, and everything she said came out dumb. But she kept talking anyway. “It’s like a queen of cats. It means they do whatever I tell them, and I can do all sorts of cat magic.”
They all laughed harder. This wasn’t going the way it was supposed to. They weren’t afraid of her at all, and they should be. Deep down, for no reason at all, she was certain of it.
Just as Matt was about to say something else, the bell rang. “I’ll see you inside, Your Majesty,” he said, and he hissed and clawed the air in front of her face, while his friends laughed. Then he went to join the main line through the magic detectors.
“Sorry, kids, you know the rules: No breakfast after first bell,” Mr. Shuttleworth called as he closed the doors to the cafeteria line.
Emma stared at the closed doors as the few remaining stragglers grumbled and moved to the main line of kids waiting to get inside. It was all right if they missed breakfast, but she was hungry. She wasn’t supposed to be hungry. She was important. They should be bringing her food and hoping she didn’t feel like . . . like . . .
Emma shook her head. Why was she getting so annoyed all of a sudden? She didn’t even like school breakfast, and she’d skipped it plenty of times. It was just Matt, and her stupid hand, and everything else going on. She felt like taking a nap, too, and that wasn’t helping her feel any less irritable.
<
br /> She’d forgotten to worry about the magic detectors until she stepped through them. A series of runes began to glow a bright blue on either side, and the detector beeped loudly.
“Please step over here,” the elderly security guard said. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket, and read from it. “Do you have any grimoires, spell books, amulets, charms, dreamcatchers, dreammakers, luck stones, holed stones, animal remains, or other items exhibiting or intended to exhibit magical properties that you wish to turn in at this time?”
“Does a chicken sandwich count as animal remains?” Emma asked.
“I’m going to have to search your bag,” the security guard said, holding out his hand.
“There’s nothing in there but books,” Emma said, but she handed her bag over. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her.
The security guard carefully laid her things on a small table off to the side: books, papers, old gum wrappers, one squashed and melted candy bar, and her old house keys. “Please step through again.”
Emma did as she was told.
The runes glowed again, even brighter this time, and the beeping was erratic. Thin curls of smoke rose from the detector.
The guard frowned. “Must just be acting up,” he muttered. “All right, collect your things and go on to class.”
Behind her, she could hear Matt’s voice. “I told you she was a crag.”
Emma went to homeroom hoping that was the end of it, but of course it wasn’t. By the time the second bell sent them to their first class, people were meowing and hissing at her as she walked down the hall. In second period, a girl pulled a bunch of hair off her hairbrush and threw it on Emma’s desk, then yelled, “Look, Emma coughed up a hair ball!” Everyone around them giggled.
Claws (9780545469678) Page 5
