Ember rolled onto to her stomach and looked down. Her trail of thought came to a dead end. Tainu’s soft yellow-green eyes peered back up at her.
She tensed. “I’m a figment of your imagination. Pretend I’m not here.”
“What?” Tainu said. “I can’t hear you over the water. Could you come down?”
“I said—” She bit the less sore part of her tongue. ‘She can’t hear you, you know.’
Ember stood up. She leaped across the rushing water, then hiked down the mountain slope to join her. Tainu raised her tail in greeting.
“Sorry, I couldn’t hear what you were saying,” Tainu said.
“It wasn’t important,” Ember replied.
“Ah, okay.”
They circled each other for a few moments, scenting. When they finished, Ember broke free from the circle. She padded over to a nearby tree and sharpened her claws. Tainu followed.
“Look,” she said, “I’m really sorry, but I don’t think we’ll be able to go hunting today. The weather’s looking pretty bad, and your mom is looking for you. Also, some things have come up for me that’ll probably keep me busy most of the day.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t really want to hunt, anyway,” Ember replied. She flinched as her tongue reminded her to be nicer to it.
Tainu’s tail thrashed. “I know, but I feel terrible having to leave you like this. You have to be a strong hunter, otherwise . . .”
Ember cocked her head. “Otherwise what? And what do you mean ‘leave’? Where are you going?”
“Hah, funny.” Tainu placed a paw on Ember’s forehead and ruffled her fur. “I meant leaving you without hunting skills, silly. never mind. We should go back. Echo will probably be looking for me soon.”
Thunder growled again. It would have been perfect timing if she’d said something more dramatic.
Ember stepped back. She shook herself off and glared at her cousin. “Okay, that’s enough. Will you stop this?”
“Stop what?”
“For this past mooncycle you’ve been obsessed with hunting and trying to get me to do it. And it’s not even how I am with learning history either; it’s been more like ‘I have to teach you how to hunt now, or you’re going to die.’ You’re scaring me, so please stop.”
“I am not obsessed with—” She looked away and sighed. “Okay, maybe I have been a tiny bit obsessive.”
Lightning flared across the sky. Thunder roared like an angry bear. Ember jumped back from the tree.
Tainu nudged her side. “Come on, weird little cousin. We really should get going. ”
“Agreed.” Ember flattened her ears. As she said it, she felt a sense of loss. Some incredible thought might get left unthought and unexplored. She was on the verge of something, she could feel it. However, she had also told Hyrees she might do something with him, and Cloud had wanted to talk with her after the meeting.
‘Alright, Ember. Enough alone time. This is what matters right now. Okay? Okay.’
They made their way toward the Glade. As they walked, wind rustled the branches of trees and howled through the forest. It cut through their fur, making them both shiver. Tainu kept her head and tail low as they walked. She paused for a moment, then sighed.
“Don’t tell this to anyone, not even if they ask,” Tainu said.
“Don’t tell anyone what?”
“That I’ve been going into the Lowlands,” she replied.
Ember stopped mid-step. “What? But that’s ag—”
“Wait! I know it's illegal, but let me explain. I’ve been trying to find my parents. My real parents. I mean, Fern is great, and Fledge is nice too, but I want to know who I came from, and maybe why they abandoned me. I wish I could remember them better, but all the memories are so blurry. I can’t make them out.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Ember asked. She continued walking. “I mean, you know I’m not going to tell anyone, but why? And if you don’t remember your parents, how will you know when you’ve found them?”
“I think some part of me still does remember, and I’m hoping, if I ever find them, that maybe just smelling them again will bring everything back. You’ve had smells remind you of things, right?”
“Yes, but I still don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”
“Because while I’ve been in the Lowlands, I’ve seen the realities of being an outsider,” she said. “I’ve . . . met cats who are outsiders and such. It’s really amazing how any of them survive at all. If you were to ever find yourself alone down there, in the great unknown, you’d have to be able to hunt. Otherwise, there’s not even a chance you’d survive it.”
Ember snorted. “I don’t plan on being in the Lowlands any time soon. Except maybe to go to a meeting as a historian. And I especially don’t plan on going there alone. The valley is nice to look at from above, but it’s too silver and misty for me. Besides, I have everything I need here.” She put her teeth over her tongue and pressed down until it stung. “I think.”
Misty orange and navy blue danced in her mind’s eye. ‘But I’m still missing something. I can find it here, though, so I don’t need to hunt. Ever. I will never, ever become a monster, or a wildcat. I will be calm, and peaceful, and helpful to my kin. I will be better than this. And after I find the rest of me, I can teach myself to hunt.’
More lightning flashed. A bird in a nearby tree chirped twice, then flitted away.
“So,” Tainu said, bringing her back to the present. She stopped and lowered her forequarters, as if about to pounce on something. “Race you back?”
“Sure.” Ember placed her paws against a nearby tree. “Just as a warning, I won’t go easy on you this time.”
“Yeah, sure, you were going easy on me last time, were you?” Tainu asked.
“Unfortunately, it’s been so long I can’t remember. But I do remember you defeating me. Logically, that must mean I was holding back in some way. But not today.”
“Oh, logically, huh? It can’t possibly be because I’m faster than you.”
Ember chuffed. “Of course not.”
“Wait a moment, you’re having a race without me?”
Ember and Tainu jerked to attention. Songbird emerged from the mist and trotted toward them.
“Hi, Mom,” Ember mewed. She ran to touch noses and scent with her mother. “I guess we aren’t now that you’re here. What happened to your face?”
“I call it ‘turkey’s revenge.’ ” Songbird said.
“Sounds painful.”
“I’ll be fine. Mind if I join you?” Songbird asked.
“I needed some real competition anyway, so you might as well,” Tainu said with a laugh.
“Hey!” Ember said. She batted at Tainu’s shoulder.
Another flash of lightning arced across the sky. All three cats jumped as a resounding clap of thunder filled the air.
Songbird chuffed. Her fur stood on end. “We’re running back to the Glade, I hope. I don’t want to get stuck out here if it snows, and especially not if it rains.”
“Yep, that’s where we’re heading,” Tainu replied. “So, are we ready?”
“I am,” Ember said.
“Let’s run, then,” Songbird mewed.
Ember lunged forward. Swift as a squirrel, she scrambled up the nearest tree. She scurried from branch to branch. Her movement became a rhythm. Her body became the lyrics as trees creaked and limbs bent. The forest itself seemed to be moving around her. One branch, then another; one branch, then another; one branch, then . . . nothing? She slowed to a stop. The closest limb of the next tree was gone. A light-colored spot of ragged wood rested in its place, still wet with sap.
Far below, as Tainu and Songbird raced past on the ground, she spotted the fallen branch. Parts of it had shattered on impact.
‘I guess you’ll have to take the long way after all. But at least you didn’t jump on a rotting limb and fall to your death, so that’s good.’
Another roll of thunder rattled the air as s
he scaled down the tree. She didn’t run at her fastest pace. There was no catching up to them, so she was only running for pride. Any faster, and her stamina would fail her too. She slowed to a walk a few leaps away from the Glade, panting. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her sides ached for water. She walked past Songbird and Tainu, who stood in the entrance waiting for her.
“So what’s the excuse this time?” Tainu asked.
“Branch,” she said between pants. “Broken branch. Had to . . . had to climb down. Hooohhhh, I need water.”
She padded over to one of the clay water bowls scattered around the Glade. They were mainly for kittens, who weren’t allowed to visit the Kivyress without supervision, but extremely thirsty adults weren’t strangers to using them. Under normal circumstances, she would never so much as touch one of the bowls, unless she accidentally knocked one over, then had to go refill it. They sometimes went days without being dumped and freshened with new water. More than once during her kittenhood she’d found little wiggly things swimming around in them. There was also the taste of other cats’ tongues, which never ceased to disgust her.
When she lapped at the water, her mouth stung, but she ignored the pain and freezing cold. Everything else was freezing cold already, so it was the easiest part to overlook.
A drop of water fell on her nose. She snorted and shook herself off. Another drop landed on her back. The wind picked up, howling like a wolf. A hiss echoed across the mountainside.
“Ember, Tainu,” Songbird said. “We really should get under something.”
As she said it, the sky fell. Rain stabbed her back, head, and sides like a thousand thorns falling from the clouds. The other end of the Glade disappeared in the downpour. She charged for the nearest overhanging rock. Songbird and Tainu, though they’d started from farther away, were right beside her. They reached the stone at the same time, and almost collided with Echo. Ember slid to a stop a clawlength away from the Easterner’s nose. She shivered.
“H-h-hi, Echo,” Ember said.
“Hello there, Ember,” Shard, Echo’s brother, said.
“No need to stay in my face,” Echo growled. “Your tail’s still in the rain. So go on, get in all the way or you’ll freeze.”
“Oh!” Tainu said. She shook herself off. “Echo! There you are. T-t-tahg, I’m c-cold. You two think you could help a f-f-few freezing cats out?”
Echo pushed past Ember and placed herself next to Tainu. “I’d help you out anytime, Nu. Even if you ended up making me colder, which you are, being wet like that.”
Tainu leaned against her side. “S-sorry. Not like I can help it.”
Echo groomed her between her ears. “I know, I know.”
“I’m here too, you know,” Hyrees said from somewhere behind Shard.
With Hyrees being smaller than average and Shard being larger, Ember hadn’t even seen him. Shard got to his paws and placed himself between Tainu and Songbird.
“Excuse me,” he said as he sat down. “Wow, you weren’t joking, were you? You are cold. I hope all this rain lets up soon. I could do with a nice warm fire right about now, I could.”
Hyrees moved to sit next to Ember. They touched noses. She sneezed, causing Hyrees to jerk back, and shivered harder.
He chuffed. “Ugh, hey, watch where you spray.”
“S-sorry,” she whispered.
“Hey, it’s okay. I was trying to be funny, but as usual, it didn’t work.” He leaned closer to her, his warmth engulfing her freezing side. “You okay?”
“Better.”
“So, Sh-Sh-Shard. Echo. H-how have y’all been?” Songbird asked.
Shard’s ears perked up. “Not bad, Ma’am. Just, you know, the usual,” he said. He flattened his ears. “Uhm, ah, well, you probably don’t know, actually. But all the same. Hmm, oh! I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I? Being so close. Oh, I do hope not. Just-just let me know, if, ah, at any time, you know, you no longer want my help. Just say the meow.”
“N-no, you’re okay,” Songbird replied. “And you know what? You’re warm. You can get closer, if you don’t mind m-m-my wetness.”
“Ah, okay, good,” Shard said.
As the cats settled down beneath the overhang, a third-person image of the arrangement appeared in Ember’s head. ‘It’s like a caterpillar of warmth,’ she thought. She smiled and leaned closer to Hyrees. Shaky purrs rumbled up her throat. ‘Yes. Warmth. Warmth is good. It’s also good she came and got you when she did. You would’ve frozen to death if you stayed out there much longer.’
They sat in silence, watching the rain and keeping each other warm. Ember played with her breath, blowing different-sized steam clouds. Shard joined in. For several moments, all six cats snorted and sighed clouds of mist. Ember chuffed. A moment later, everyone fell silent as lumps of icy sludge replaced the rain.
Shard leaned forward to get a better look. A clump of ice-goo landed on his nose. He jerked his head back and shook himself off. “Ack! Oh, that’s cold! So bloody cold. Agh, it stings.”
Echo reached across Tainu and swatted what remained of the ice off of his face. Shard sneezed, then snorted. “Ugh. Thank you, Echo. Oh, I hate—er, strongly dislike all this cold weather, I do. And I suppose it’ll snow tonight too. Wouldn’t that be bloody wonderful? Gotta walk all the way back, through the snow, through the cold, all day, for two, bloody, days. Why couldn’t we have the winter meetings at our place?”
Echo licked his cheek. “I don’t know, Shard, but it seems we’re stuck here for now. You know, you’re starting to sound like me. Should I be worried?”
Tainu laughed. “Oh, I-I don’t know about that. He’s s-s-so adorable when he gets all ind-d-dignant. Just like you. I need more angry Echo and Shard in my life.” She nosed Echo’s cheek. “Especially angry Echoes.”
Ember snickered. A sea of snarling Echoes appeared in her mind, each Echo duplicate in the same position as the others. She brushed aside her discomfort and held back a giggle.
“So, any idea how the meeting went before all this started?” Hyrees asked, changing the subject.
“Not a bloody clue,” Echo said.
He cocked an ear. “And what is it with you Easterners and the word ‘bloody?’ ”
“Not a bloody clue,” she said again. “No, actually I do know. In a sense. Hunters like me say it a lot more than your typical Easterner. It’s usually used in long-winded complaints about prey that refuses to die, if that gives you any ideas on the origin.”
“Ah, lovely,” he replied.
The awkward silence following lasted until the downpour stopped. The rain ended like it began, suddenly and gracelessly. They waited under the ledge for a few moments more to make sure it wasn’t just a break in the storm. Tainu got up. She padded away from the sheltering protection of the ledge and sniffed the sludge coating the ground.
“Ew,” she said, “l-looks like the sky decided to give us some half-frozen slime mold today. Thanks, sky. Cold, wet, and icy paws? What is this? The meeti—oh wait, it is. N-never mind.”
She turned back toward the ledge. “You harehearts c-can come out now. I already s-s-see some blue up there, and it’s getting bigger. And by bigger, I mean the clouds are going away. Let’s just hope your dad d-doesn’t leave with them, huh, Ember?”
Ember sighed. ‘Tainu, I love you, but your jokes are still terrible. Hyrees does better.’
“Is everyone okay?” Aspen’s voice asked from across the Glade. “Are we all here? All safe? Is there anyone who wasn’t able to get to shelter before the rain? If so, there are cats working on replacing the firewood right now. Anyone with wet fur gets access to the fire pits first.”
Ember searched the sudden outpouring of cats for her family. Cloud walked toward one of the fire pits several leaps away, fur slightly damp. He dragged a branch beside him with his mouth. Songbird went to help him.
Ember sighed again. ‘He got caught in the rain, yet he’s helping out. Yes, he has slightly longer fur than you, and isn’t nearly as wet, but h
e’s still in a similar situation doing something more worthwhile than you. And I’ll bet he’d still help if he were in my exact situation. And Mom definitely is. Also, the more cats that help out, the faster you get to dry. Oh, and the faster everyone else who got wet gets to dry too. Don’t wanna forget them, Em.’
She stood up. “I-I’m going to go help them.”
“Ember, wait. It’s colder out in the open,” Hyrees said.
“I know,” she replied. “F-faster fire. Ring o-of warmth.”
“Oh. True.”
“You understood that?” Echo asked. “Does she always talk like this?”
Hyrees slunk out of his warm spot. “Yep, and sometimes. I’ll see you two later. For now I guess I’m going to help build a ring of warmth.”
Hyrees loped over to where Ember waited, shivering. Before he could react, she bumped her nose against his, then trotted toward the wood storage—a long-abandoned fox den set in a tiny hill. It had been expanded on by some of the earliest colony cats. Beneath her paws, the ice goo melted and clung to her pads and fur. The chill sent a bolt of light blue running through her mind. The light blue became a snowy landscape, which then faded into a pristine silver that made her stomach churn.
When she reached the storage, she selected a decent-sized branch and picked it up in her mouth. The rough wood rubbed against her tongue, but she ignored the pain. She carried it over to the nearest fire pit, then set it down within the ring of broken clay spires.
When enough firewood was in place, Lupine struck the sparkstones against each other. The sparks landed on a pile of dried leaves and ignited. Ember watched in awe and longing as the baby fire ate and grew, spreading to the twigs and branches above it. Her namesakes swirled into the air in a delicate-yet-deadly display of power.
Ember huffed. ‘Is that what I am? Delicate and deadly? I hope not. Anything delicate gets crushed, and anyone deadly gets chased out or killed. And I’d personally rather not get crushed, chased out, or killed. Maybe I can be like a real ember some other way. Maybe I could save lives and keep everyone warm. Then again, that sounds kind of crowded, everyone huddling together around me.’
Wildcat Page 9
