Claws (9780545469678)

by Grinti, Mike; Grinti, Rachel

  Cricket hissed weakly as Emma walked up to her. “You’re a fool for trusting Jack. He probably knows where your sister is. He’s probably known this whole time.”

  “Lies,” Jack replied nonchalantly. “But even if I had known, you weren’t ready to go after her, were you, Emma? Now that you have your magic, it’s a different story.”

  “You think he’s your friend,” Cricket spat. “But cats don’t have friends. They have a pride, or they have nothing.”

  “You know, I was a little disappointed your first kill wasn’t one of the ratters. But I think killing Cricket is better,” Jack purred. “More fitting.”

  “You forgot the troll,” Emma murmured, extracting her claws and staring at them thoughtfully. She knew what the wild Pride-Heart wanted to do. But what did she want?

  “It doesn’t count if there wasn’t any blood,” Jack said.

  “Hurry up. I’m sick of the sound of his voice,” Cricket said. She sounded tired. Defeated. “They’re waiting. Go ahead and show them you’re a real cat now.”

  “But I’m not,” Emma said. “Not exactly. I’m human, too.”

  She shut her eyes and felt the connection between herself and Cricket, that thread binding them together. Slowly, gently, she let the magic flow into the ginger cat again. Cricket looked up at her, puzzled. Then she turned into the mountain lion once more.

  “Stop her!” Jack yelled. He sounded furious.

  The others cats didn’t move. They all watched Emma.

  Cricket looked around as if she wanted to run, but she stayed where she was. “I won’t be hunted just to amuse you,” she growled.

  “I don’t want to hunt you,” Emma said. “I want you by my side. You’re no Heart-Killer. Not really. Like Jack said, you don’t have it in you.”

  “I’m hoping for your sake that I was right,” said Jack. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “If she admits that I’m a real Pride-Heart — her Pride-Heart — that’s good enough. I think she’ll be loyal.” She turned to Cricket. “I’m a human, but it’s better than me killing you, isn’t it?”

  Cricket glared at her. “You’ve managed to control the Heart’s Blood. You’re giving me magic. You even managed to beat a troll.” Her tail flicked back and forth. She looked as though she was thinking. “I suppose I can always take the Heart’s Blood when you get yourself killed off on whatever crazy scheme Jack’s convinced you of.”

  Slowly, she lowered her eyes and lay on the ground, tail tucked between her legs and ears flat against her head. Then she rolled over onto her back, exposing a belly and throat covered in soft white fur. This time, Emma did exactly what the Pride-Heart inside her wanted. She placed her hands on Cricket’s belly, claws extended, and gently bit the massive cat’s throat.

  As she pulled back, Cricket shrank, turning into a small ginger cat again, thin and somewhat bloodied. She began to clean herself methodically. “Well, what next?” she said, as if nothing had happened.

  Around her, the other cats began to purr softly.

  “All right,” Emma said. “Before we go, I want to know about that illusion. Helena in the window. What kind of magic is that? It’s not cat magic, I know that for sure. I could see it was wrong.”

  “It looked like faerie magic to me,” said Fat Leon, looking at Cricket, “though I didn’t have enough magic to see through it at the time.”

  Cricket nodded. “You’re right. A little borrowed faerie enchantment. They didn’t like the idea of a human Pride-Heart any more than I did. I told them I’d take care of it.”

  Jack growled unhappily at this, but his eyes were bright.

  “Why don’t they like the idea of a human Pride-Heart?” Emma asked.

  “Maybe they just don’t like humans having magic at all,” Cricket said. “Who knows with faeries? I didn’t ask. I wanted the Heart’s Blood; they wanted a cat to have it instead of a human.” She shrugged. “It was a fair swap. I didn’t really think you counted as a Pride-Heart, you understand. Now that you do, well, I suppose we can work together. For now.”

  “So the faeries used Cricket to — what?” She looked at Jack. “Kill me? Why? Why would the faeries want me dead?”

  “You’re becoming more powerful than you realize,” Jack murmured in a self-satisfied tone. “Word gets around.”

  “We need to go to New Downtown to find out,” Emma said. “To 500 Ocean Avenue. Maybe it’s a faerie place. Helena loved faeries. She was always reading about them.”

  Chloe flapped her wings in consternation. “I can’t go with you if you’re going to New Downtown to find faeries. You’re not allowed to fly there if you’re a crag. There are laws about it. You have to have a Self-Propelled Sentient Flyer license and a radio and stuff.”

  Emma thought for a moment. “Well, I guess I could turn you into something —”

  “A hawk!” Chloe interrupted.

  “— that won’t draw as much attention. But something that can still fly.”

  “I’m not going to become dumb like a hawk, am I?” Chloe asked.

  “Um . . .” Emma glanced at Fat Leon.

  “You’ll have all the intelligence you currently possess,” Fat Leon said. “But don’t talk too much. And definitely don’t scream. It can undo the magic.”

  Chloe nodded. She seemed excited, too, jerking her wings out as if she might take off at any moment. “Let’s do this already. I’ve never seen New Downtown!”

  “Okay, okay,” Emma said.

  This time, Emma didn’t need to struggle to find the magic. It was there, moving through her, out to her cats and back again. Using it was like stretching a limb that had briefly fallen asleep. With the double vision of a human and a cat, she focused on Chloe. If she squinted, Chloe did look like a big hawk, especially when she spread her wings out in excitement like that. You just had to see a beak instead of a face.

  There was a soft pop and a rush of air as the space that Chloe had filled suddenly became empty. In its place sat a large hawk. It wobbled a little as it tried to walk, then raised its wings and took off into the air, circling low overhead.

  “One more thing,” Fat Leon said, with a note of warning in his voice. “Cat magic doesn’t work on faeries. Not directly. So you can’t just turn one of them into stone the way you can a troll.”

  Emma nodded. “Jack already told me something like that. Lesson two.” She glanced at Jack. “Was there ever going to be a lesson three?”

  “Yes. Do what I tell you, and you’ll be all right. That’s lesson three,” Jack said. He purred. “You’re going to have to be sneaky and smart with faeries.”

  “I can do that,” Emma said. She felt a little light-headed and dizzy, yet excited at the same time. She was ready for this.

  “All right,” Jack said. “It’s a long walk, so we might as well get started.”

  * * *

  They made their way back out of the forest, then followed the tree line for several hours.

  It turned out that what the cats thought of as walking was really more of a steady run. Emma found herself tripping and stumbling. Her cats leaped gracefully over obstacles and waited impatiently for her to climb over them.

  Finally, Cricket had enough. “Stop clinging to your scrawny human legs,” she said. “How are we ever going to get to New Downtown if we have to stop for you every minute?”

  Emma looked around at her pride’s sleek forms, muscles rippling under their fur. None of them was even breathing hard.

  “You know what you need to do,” Jack said.

  Emma nodded. She did know. Now that she was a Pride-Heart, she should be able to change shape as easily as she changed clothes, and the Heart’s Blood wanted her to run with her pride.

  She closed her eyes. She imagined herself covered in fur, her muscles sinewy and strong, her furry tail flicking behind her, and felt the sensation of cool water running over her hands and arms like it had when she’d broken free from the ratterking. She dropped to all fours. When she opened her e
yes and looked down at herself, she saw tiny paws with wicked-looking claws. Her fur was sleek and black, with a hint of lighter stripes.

  She took a step forward, expecting the same clumsiness she’d felt when she’d turned herself into a ratter, but her new shape felt just right. Strong. Fast.

  “How do I look?” she asked Jack.

  “Like a real Pride-Heart,” Jack said, his voice soft. “I knew you could do it.”

  Emma laughed. “I want to run. Come on!”

  She found herself running with ease. The forest seemed to fly by. Her muscles ached pleasantly, her breath was strong, and her heart was quick. With the magic flowing through her and her pride beside her, she felt like she could run forever.

  As night fell, they left the forest behind them. They climbed beneath privacy walls, jumped fences, and cut through yards. The buildings became taller, more densely placed. Night gave way to a city’s eternal nighttime glow.

  They’d entered New Downtown.

  CRAG FACT OF THE DAY:

  “Most photos of dragons in flight have turned out to be hoaxes or weather balloons. Most, but not all.”

  CragWiki.org

  Emma and her pride slunk single file through the city. They stuck to the smaller side streets, trying to avoid the crowds. Most people didn’t notice the small, furry creatures darting through the shadows, but those that did crossed the street to avoid them. Chloe soared silently overhead in hawk form.

  Cars zoomed past, their lights blindingly bright. Groups of people chattered loudly outside theaters and restaurants. The city seemed a lot bigger and busier when you were a cat.

  Emma turned to Cricket. “How much farther to Ocean Avenue?”

  “How should I know?” Cricket said. “One of them met me in the forest. I have no idea where they are.”

  “Then I guess it’s up to Chloe to find the place,” Emma said.

  But that turned out not to be a problem. Chloe was circling around a high-rise with mirrored windows glittering with starlight and city lights. It was many stories taller than any building around it, so tall that the top seemed to disappear into the clouds. And written on the side in projected neon lights was the number 500. This had to be it: 500 Ocean Avenue. The place Helena had been before she disappeared.

  Emma hid behind a dumpster. The rest of the pride melted into the shadows, crouching in dark corners or on the fire escapes overhead, slinking along gutters and low roofs. Occasionally their eyes flashed with the reflected light of passing cars.

  A line of people wrapped all the way around the building. Most of them looked like teenagers or college students. There were bouncers at the enormous glass doors, deciding who to let in and who to keep waiting outside. It was clearly some kind of nightclub. A faerie one? She remembered Helena sighing over pictures of faerie parties in her magazines, wondering whether she’d ever get to see one.

  “This place reeks of faerie magic,” Fat Leon whispered with disgust.

  “I’ve never had a Pride-Heart that wanted to hunt faeries before,” Cricket purred. She was tense and her eyes were wide with excitement. “This should be fun.”

  Chloe circled the building twice, swooping low over the crowd. Then she flew back to Emma, landing a few feet away. She clicked her beak.

  “One second,” Emma said. She concentrated, felt where reality had shifted to make way for Chloe-the-hawk. She just needed to tweak it a little. The beak, the small dark eyes, the feathers — they shifted, and in their place was Chloe’s face, in miniature.

  “That’s better,” Chloe said. She frowned. “I’m squeaky. Why am I squeaky?”

  “Well, you’re smaller.” Emma looked at the line to make sure no one was watching them, but everyone’s eyes were fixed on the glittering faerie building. “What did you see?”

  “I couldn’t see anything inside,” Chloe said. “The windows are mirrors all the way up.”

  “Then we need to get inside ourselves. Chloe, did you see any other doors?”

  Chloe shook her head in a quick, birdlike movement. “This is the only entrance. No back door.”

  Emma’s whiskers twitched as she thought. “We could sneak in, but not as cats. There’s too many people around. Not as humans, either, since they’re only letting certain people in.”

  “Like we’d turn into humans,” Cricket sniffed.

  “I don’t think you’d be very convincing anyway,” Emma said.

  “What if you looked like someone who might be inside already?” suggested Jack. “Helena? After all, she was in there at least once. And maybe she never came out. . . .”

  Emma stared at him. “You’re saying the faeries have Helena?”

  Jack shrugged. “It’s worth a try. Assuming she’s already in there, if they really do have her trapped, they’d let her back in, right?”

  “Assuming,” said Fat Leon. “But who knows why faeries do anything?”

  “Okay,” Emma said. “But I want Jack with me. I need a way to get him inside, too.”

  “What about a huge shiny purse like that girl over there has?” Chloe said, nodding toward a girl clutching a large handbag. “No one would notice him in one of those. If I had a bag like that, I’d fill it up with chocolate, though, not all that makeup and stuff.”

  “Do you think you could get me one?” Emma said to Chloe. Then she looked down at Jack. “I mean, if you’re okay being hidden in a bag.”

  “Hmm,” Jack said. “It’s not my first choice, but I’m not letting you go in there alone.”

  “Good. Then we just need to think of a way to get the rest of you in so you can help.” She looked at Chloe again. “Do you think you could cause some kind of a distraction?”

  “Do you want me to use my voice?”

  Emma winced at the memory of Chloe’s harpy screech. “Maybe not. It’s no good if we’re all falling over in pain. Just . . . once I’m inside, anything you can think of to make them look at you and not at the doors.”

  “Okay. A distraction and a bag,” Chloe said. “I’m on it.”

  Once Chloe was back in the air, Emma changed the harpy into her normal form. She needed all the magic she had for herself and Jack, and Chloe would be under the police radar flying this low.

  Then she took a deep breath and pictured Helena’s face, drawing on her memories of her sister, her trendy clothes and streaked hair, the way she walked. Her grin that made you feel like you were both in on some joke. She was the girl who signed Emma’s bad report card with their mom’s signature. The girl who was always trying to give Emma advice about clothes, but not letting her borrow any of her own.

  Helena was the reason Emma was lurking in a dark alley with a pride of impatient cats and a harpy.

  Emma let her memories pass through her mind. She felt the running-water magic once again, knew she was changing, just a little. Her skin felt as though it was being stretched, her face was filling out, becoming rounder. Emma opened her eyes and looked down at herself. She was wearing her own clothes — jeans and a T-shirt — but she felt different.

  She stepped out of the alley and checked her reflection in the window of the nearest car. Her sister’s face stared back at her, a worried crease between her eyes.

  Emma’s throat felt tight and she reached out to touch the car window. Then she reached up and touched her own face. Helena’s face.

  “No crying before a hunt,” said Jack. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint your pride now, would you?”

  Emma let her hand fall to her side and turned away from the car. “Yeah, I know,” she said. And then she almost did start crying, because the voice that came out of her mouth was so familiar. But Jack was right, she didn’t have time for crying. Crying never helped anything.

  A large dark shape hit the sidewalk with a soft thump. It was a black purse with a brass leaf clasp and a moon-and-stars logo on one side. Emma waved her thanks to Chloe and picked up the bag. It was empty. Hopefully that meant whoever Chloe had borrowed the bag from still had their things. Maybe she’
d stolen it from a store somehow.

  “Ready?” she asked Jack, opening the bag for him.

  He gave a long-suffering sigh and crawled in. “I hope you know this is all for you.” He sniffed. “It smells weird in here.”

  Emma slung the bag over her shoulder and cut across the street toward the building’s entrance. Her heart raced and she wanted to run, but she had to walk steadily, confidently, right to the front of the line. Like she already knew she belonged here and they’d let her in. Like she was under the faeries’ spell, just like everyone else here seemed to be.

  Two girls sat on bar stools at the glass doors. A bouncer stood behind them, huge arms crossed in front of his chest. They were talking to an older boy who seemed familiar to Emma.

  “Come on, I was here last Friday and the dude at the door let me in,” the boy was saying. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a phone. “Look, I even took a picture of myself inside, see? That’s me right there!”

  “Just because you got in on a slow night doesn’t mean you can get in today,” one of the girls said. “Today’s special.” She turned to her friend. “What did Corbin call it? Ost . . . Ostara. Something like that.” She looked at the boy again. “Everyone wants in. And you can’t take photos inside anyway. The faeries have their own exclusive party photographer, even though he can’t take pictures of the faeries, either. They just don’t show up in the photos at all.”

  Then Emma realized why the boy seemed so familiar. “Hey, aren’t you Marie’s brother?” she said.

  He glanced at her, annoyed. “What? I mean, yeah. Do I know you?”

  “You have to get in line like everyone else,” one of the girls said to Emma. Then she started. “Helena? I thought you were inside already. Ooh, that’s a great bag! Who is it?”

  The second girl looked Emma up and down. “But what is that trash you’re wearing? I thought you were going to wear that amazing dress Corbin bought you.”

  Emma’s heart was beating fast, and her throat felt tight. She’s really here! She never left this place. Jack was right.

  She swallowed hard and tried to smile at them, but inside she was shaking.