by J. J. Moody
He carefully approached.
It couldn’t be an outlaw. It didn’t make sense.
Could it be an animal? All of the birds had been scared off by something.
He gulped.
He moved around to flank the spot, and peeked over the top. There was nothing there.
He edged closer.
Then there was a miaow.
At least that was what he thought it was. He frowned in confusion, craning his head so his ear was pointed to the sound, and listening for confirmation.
There it was again, a miaow.
It sounded very definitely like there was a cat on the other side of the rocks.
But animals were different here; what if it was actually a lion? What if in this world lions miaowed like cats, and cats roared like lions? It could very well be absolutely nothing like a cat for all he knew - look at the hayhoppers, digboks and pomp-hens back on the farm, and those were just the farm animals he knew about in his few days in this land.
What if in the western realms there was in fact a ferocious beast, which miaowed like a soft, cuddly little kitten specifically to entice its prey.
He swallowed again.
He strained his neck, pressing his body against the boulders to peer over the top just a tiny bit further.
There was fur.
Yellow, golden fur.
He tried to make out how big the creature was.
Another miaow.
There was nothing for it. He miaowed back.
He waited. But there was no response.
He pulled away, wondering if he had just miaowed at a ferocious predator inviting it to eat him. Perhaps it would at the very least be confused enough by the miaowing boy for him to escape.
He was about to turn and flee, when something jumped onto the rock in front of him. It stood proudly, surveying the thing which had just miaowed at it with big green eyes.
It was a cat.
Or at least, something most resembling a cat.
This creature was the size of a large household cat from Ben’s world. It had a beautiful golden fur, with patches of white mixed in especially around its collar and breast. The hair was very rough, matted in places, and shabby, like the cat-thing had just been tearing through a bush, and had never once preened itself. Pieces of earth and leaves were caught up in it. There was a long, thick tail that extended slightly further than one length of its body. Its face was full, with tall pointed ears accessorised by wild white wisps, and those round eyes that remained on Ben.
It seemed very calm and quite well nourished.
It miaowed at Ben.
Ben gave out a sigh of relief, and took a step towards the animal. “Phew! You almost gave me a heart attack, cat!” He cautiously extended a few fingers, and the cat-thing sniffed them.
“You can smell the smoked fish I guess. Sorry but its all gone for today. And I’ve got none left for tomorrow either unfortunately. I’ve got nothing left at all now.” He sighed.
The cat rubbed a coarse-haired cheek against Ben’s fingers, and he scratched it back.
“You know you must be the most normal animal I’ve met in these realms yet! Nothing really odd about you is there? I just hope you don’t change into a lion at night or under a full moon or something?” He stopped, hoping for an answer.
The animal gazed blankly at him.
Ben supposed it would probably survive quite well up here. It had probably dined on a few of those wagging tailed birds here and there – no wonder the other birds had been frightened off. And its dense hair would certainly keep it cosy in even the coldest, windiest of nights.
He wondered what other wild creatures might wait in the woods ahead of him. Perhaps they were the reason nobody else was on the trail.
“Well now what, cat?” He looked around again. There were no clues to the whereabouts of his things. "We need to find my bag or we'll starve before we see any mages."
The cat-thing stared back.
Someone had found him. He didn’t know who it was, or even whether they were still watching him now. He was glad to feel the cat had now jumped down from the rocks and was rubbing up against his ankles. At least he wasn’t completely alone any more.
He looked at the path down into the lush trees. He had no food, and no supplies. He needed to get off the hills by nightfall, and find some shelter, or he’d freeze up here. Perhaps he’d be able to find some berries down there like the ones Eva had taught him about.
“OK cat, if you’re coming with me, then let’s go.” He scrambled over the rocks where the cat had appeared, and onto the path beyond.
The cat jumped after him and purred around his ankles.
Ben ducked behind the rocks a moment, waiting for signs of movement from anyone behind. Nothing moved but the trees, swaying like cheerleaders with dazzling pom poms.
They moved on, making their way down the track, which ran a shallow, meandering course into the trees.
“So what shall I call you then, cat?” Ben said to the shabby furrball still trailing eagerly behind him. He stopped for a minute, waiting for an answer. The cat looked around absently, and licked its paws.
“How about Alder?” Ben suggested.
The cat continued grooming.
“Frodo?"
No reaction.
“OK, OK. Lion? Lioness? I’m not sure if you’re a boy or a girl to be honest. Or what about Goldie? That's more safely unisex."
The cat moved a fraction closer to him.
“Good enough for me, Goldie it is!”
They pressed on down the slope.
The sky began to darken. The sun descended behind the Drumald ridge behind them, and rainclouds formed above.
Ben felt raindrops.
They turned a corner and the path wound into the hillside a little. Ben searched for shelter, and noticed a slight outcrop ahead just off the path, and under it a subtle depression into the hillside.
“OK Goldie, quick, let’s take shelter up there until the rain passes.”
Ben trampled carefully off the path and over the gravel toward the outcrop and found that the depression sank far enough back into the cliff to give them plenty of respite from the building rain.
He was grateful to avoid a soaking given that he had only the clothes he wore. Goldie sprawled beside him, watching the rain outside. He dabbed its wet fur with his shirt.
Ben thought again of his bag, and watched keenly for someone following them along the path. But nobody came.
Behind them were a few boulders resting against the rock face. Ben edged back to them for better shelter from the ricocheting rain. He leant back against a larger stone, and Goldie quickly joined him.
As the rock took Ben's weight, it groaned away from him.
It had been smaller than it had first looked. Ben quickly took his weight away.
He prodded at the boulder. Again it moved easily, and as it did, Ben saw that the cliff behind had cracked into a deep gap.
Ben couldn't see the back.
He looked at Goldie.
The cat stood facing the hole, senses taut.
Ben didn’t like this one bit. He should just leave the boulder where it had first leaned, and wait for the rain to pass. There was sure to be nothing of value further back there, and sickly insecty things probably resided inside. It certainly wasn't in the direction he needed to go.
But Goldie edged closer to the opening, and laid a paw firmly on the boulder.
“What are you doing Goldie? Do you think we should have a look inside?” Ben felt the churn of fear swelling like a stomach ache.
The cat tapped on the rock insistently.
“OK OK I’ll let you have a closer look,” Ben said. He grabbed the rock with both hands, and pushed it away to one side, revealing the full entrance into the mountain.
The cat jumped forward eagerly and stood at the brink, staring keenly into the pitch black. Its ears pricked, and its tail flipped from side to side erratically.
“Do you see s
omething to eat in there?” Ben shuddered at the nasty creepy crawlies that might be on Goldie’s diet. He longed for a torch.
He was reminded of the family visit to London Zoo for his 8th birthday, and the insect house there. His dad had been too scared to go inside the exhibit - even the rubbery toy spiders in the gift shop had been too much for him - and had gone to get an ice cream instead. Ben didn't mind bugs if they kept their distance, but he certainly didn't like the idea of touching them. And feeling his way into a cave was going to make that a distinct probability.
There was no telling what might be inside. The only thing that was clear was that Goldie was ready to go and find out.
Ben crouched at the hole, and waited for his eyes to adjust. He could make out nothing but blackness.
Goldie looked up at him impatiently.
Ben looked around for a small stone, and threw it gently into the gloom. He heard it thud on the ground. At least there was no immediate chasm to worry about.
He bent and took a few tentative steps into the dark, clinging to the side. The cave was a foot or so shorter than his height, so he needed to stay hunched, but it didn’t seem to be tightening as he went.
He breathed quick and shallow, and rubbed the sweat from his eyes. He wanted to turn and sprint away. Into the rain if he needed to, and down the hillside into the trees. At least there he would be able to see whatever this world wanted to throw at him.
Going into caves was never a good idea at the best of times. Any story he had ever read about one concerned the awful creature that lived in it, which would invariably gobble up or dismember the young boy unwise enough to wander into its lair.
He waited for his eyes to adjust again. He looked down, and saw an outline of golden fur catching the light behind. Goldie was standing loyally, poised to strike at whatever came toward them.
“Curiosity killed the cat you know,” he said.
Perhaps this hole was home to a friendly cave-dweller, he hoped, racking his brains for an example of something pleasant that dwelled in a cave. Maybe it was a digbok gathering? He smiled at the thought of those dopey animals sitting around in here playing battleships.
"Are there digboks in there Goldie? Is that what you are so interested in?” He squinted down in the direction of the cat.
The creature seemed convinced there was something in here that it could eat, and it lived in these hills, so at worst he concluded there might be a few bugs Goldie fancied. And feeding it would keep it happy, and maybe persuade it to keep him company a little further. So if it wanted him to keep it company first, then he would just have to do that.
He took a few deep breaths, and edged another couple of steps forward, pausing again to try and discern what lay further ahead. By now, the light from the darkened sky behind them barely penetrated. The sounds of rain and wind had disappeared, replaced by Ben's blustery breaths. He wondered how far the track led. He felt around and reassured himself that the tunnel had not shrunk at all.
He stared hard up ahead. Was that a dot of light?
Another few steps further, and Ben paused again. It was complete blackness now. All he had was the touch of rock to orientate by, and the trust that Goldie was still beside him. He reached down and found the tangled hair. He scratched it gratefully. “You are a very odd cat aren’t you?”
He was sure there was a light.
Very faint.
A subdued yellow flicker coming from up ahead. Fire.
Treading further, and the features of the tunnel began emerging again.
It led to the light.
Digboks wouldn’t have lit a fire. It could only be a person. But what kind of person would live in a cave accessible only through a pitch-black tunnel in the side of a mountain?
He considered fleeing back to the open air. He needed to get out. Out to the air and light.
He felt for the rock wall, and tried to slow his breathing and calm down. He searched for memories of warming fires and hot stews at the Peregrine camp, and of the comfort of his own home. The embrace of his family. The lights within him.
He fought back his fear, and listened to his heart beating, waiting patiently as it slowed. His breathing followed.
He would go to the cave and find out what was there.
If there was light he would at least be able to see whatever was there and defend himself if needed.
He slowly manoeuvred toward the glow, with Goldie beside him. The tunnel began expanding into a cave.
Finally, they had reached the end. They were only a few steps away from where the tunnel opened fully into the cavern. Faded yellow light lapped at the wall ahead, but the cave expanded to the right, out of sight. Ben’s heart catapulted as he imagined something hungry just around the corner.
He waited for any of his senses to catch something.
He took another step forward. Then another, craning to see inside.
Goldie stepped closer.
Suddenly something moved from inside.
Goldie hissed, and Ben pulled back instantly, just in time to avoid the arrow.
It smashed on the tunnel wall and fell to Ben's feet.
He huddled back, panicking.
But Goldie stood its ground, eyes locked into the cave.
And then, slowly it began to edge forward.
Ben’s mind raced. “Stop! Please!" he shouted.
Goldie stared out of Ben’s view. It was ready to attack.
"Goldie come back here!" he whispered. "It's not an insect!"
Ben wondered with dread whether whatever was in the cave would let them escape, now he had come this far, and knew the way in. It might not risk him returning with weapons and friends.
“I’m so sorry for this intrusion! We didn't realise you lived in here and my cat - cat-thing - was just looking for a few bugs to eat! Please, we'll just leave you in peace and never come back, we promise!" he yelled.
“Come on Goldie, quickly let’s go!” He beckoned to Goldie, but the cat was completely fixed on the inner reaches of the cave. He briefly considered whether in this land some particularly well-evolved insects fired arrows.
Then a voice came from out of sight. “I knew this would happen." There was a snorting, satisfied laugh. "I knew all along that you were evil! Yes, and I was right.”
Ben crawled back to the opening.
“Meant to murder me in here didn’t you! Nasty little boy! With your poisonous seeds! Intended to strangle me with your rope! And then stab me with your twisted knife if that didn't work!” the voice screeched.
“You’ve got my bag!” Ben shouted back. “I need those things to find my way home! And none of them has anything to do with you!”
“Clever cunning little enemy aren't you! Devilish knife's already done its job and cut me!” The voice was shrill and cracked. “Cleverly magicked to hurt me in my own hands! Well I hope you're pleased with your monstrous ways young man!"
Ben didn't say anything. He wanted to feel his way back to the cave exit before the thing came for him. But Goldie still didn't seem to want to go anywhere, and he was reluctant to abandon the comforting animal. Besides, now he knew where his bag was, and he needed it back if he was to make it any further towards home.
“Look can I just come out of the tunnel and into your... cave?" he said. "I promise I don't want to hurt you at all. I just want to talk to you. And besides I might be able to help with whatever cut you've managed to make."
There was no reply. Goldie remained frozen.
"I'm going to come out," Ben said, uncertain his body would support this announcement. "So just please don't fire anything else at me OK?"
There was only silence. Ben wondered if the person was simply waiting for him to come out to attack. He had just given them plenty of warning.
He swallowed dry, and looked at Goldie, searching for courage to step out into the dirty yellow light.
What limb would be best – least worst – to risk first? He needed his legs to run away, and play football. He wrote and
had found himself fighting with his right hand.
"Goodbye left hand. Thanks for everything."
The little finger was least valuable.
He moved it out, skin cell by skin cell. A trembling worm revealing itself from safety in the soil to the waiting beak of an eagle.
The worm was safe.
He moved the next finger out just as slowly.
Finger by finger his left hand emerged from the cover of the tunnel until it was lit fully by the ghoulish light.
He waved his friendliest wave at the thing in the cavern. "OK here I come. Like I said, I'm not here to hurt you, I promise. I just want to talk and maybe help with your cut. But only if you want me to. So I'm going to come out now slowly OK?"
Silence.
"So please don't launch any more arrows at me!"
Ben's left arm was next, then his shoulder.
Finally his face emerged very slowly, clenched tight.
The cave came into view.
The entrance expanded quickly into a room the size of one of his classrooms at Hulstead College. At the opening there was nothing but the white rock walls. But further back, there was gold. Piles and piles of jewellery, laid on beautiful wooden tables, and spilling from beautifully crafted leather chests the size of ten of his parents' packing boxes. Ornate scabbards, shields, suits of armour, goblets, plates, and other objects whose function he couldn't determine. Everything was gold, glowing in the light of a small fire that crept from the deepest reaches of the cave.
But there was something wrong about all of the gold. The colour was - Ben couldn't understand it - sickly and hideous. As if the treasure was decaying.
In the depths of the cave beside the fire there stood a velvet seat with gold adornments that glimmered an outline. But it was empty.
"Hello?" Ben said. "Where are you?"
Still no response.
He wondered if it was some kind of trap.
But Goldie moved forward again. Its eyes were fixed on the empty chair.
Ben looked around the cavern. "Show yourself!"
Perhaps he had stumbled on one of the mages Alder had warned him about, and was being toyed with.
"I was right all along." The voice came again from the back of the space.
