The Cats of Tanglewood Forest

by Charles de Lint

Earl left them to head for home while the two women continued up the long meadows to the farm. Lillian followed behind Aunt and Harlene, wishing she knew some way she could put an end to all this fuss. She felt terribly bad for what Aunt was going through, but at least Aunt was alive. That was a big improvement so far as Lillian was concerned.

  But then she remembered how she’d felt when Aunt had died. She stopped where she stood, looking at the two women continuing on into the darkness with their lanterns. She didn’t want Aunt to have to go through that. But how was she supposed to fix it?

  “I want to be a girl again,” she said into the darkness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The Apple

  Tree Man

  There was one place where Lillian had always felt safe and content. Up the meadow she went until she got to the apple orchard and the Apple Tree Man’s tree. There she lay down under its twisty branches, where she’d happily dreamed so many times before.

  She was going to be a cat forever and ever, she realized. And Aunt was going to be awfully sad, and though this wasn’t as bad a world as the one that Old Mother Possum had let her experience, she still pined for her life as a girl. What, oh whatever was she going to do?

  She wanted to be brave, but she couldn’t stop the little mewing sounds that started to come from her throat.

  “What’s the matter, little kitten?”

  Lillian looked up into the boughs of the apple tree, but there was no one up there. Instead, the voice had come from the other side of the tree, where she could make out the shape of a man sitting there on the slope, hidden in the shadows. A man who could understand her.

  “I’m not a cat, I’m a girl,” she said.

  “I know you,” the man said, peering closely at her. “You’re Lillian. Every morning you bring me my breakfast.”

  Lillian stood up and peered closer at the man.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “You call me the Apple Tree Man.”

  Now here is some real magic, Lillian thought, forgetting her troubles for a moment.

  A man who lives in a tree. Perhaps he would have some advice for her.

  “Can you help me?” she asked.

  “That depends on what needs doing, I guess.”

  For what felt like the thousandth time, Lillian told her story.

  “I think maybe I can help you,” he said. “I have a madstone in some old corner of my tree. Let me have a look.”

  Lillian watched as the shadowy figure stood up and stepped into the tree. One moment he was there, just as gnarly and twisty as she’d imagined he’d be, and the next he was gone. She should have been amazed, but seeing as how she’d just done the same at the possum witch’s tree, it didn’t seem so surprising anymore.

  “Here you go,” he said, stepping out of the tree again. “You’ll need cat magic as well, though.”

  He offered her a small, smooth, flat stone that was as white as moonlight. When Lillian tried to take it from him, it slid right out of her mouth.

  “Let me carry it for you,” he offered.

  “But carry it where?” Lillian asked.

  “I know where,” he told her.

  He put the madstone in his pocket, picked her up, and set off into the woods. The dark forest, changed by the shadows and moonlight, felt strange and unfamiliar. And then there was a smell in the air—a smell Lillian remembered from when she’d been in the beech tree’s clearing. It was the smell of cats, mysterious and wild, and the smell of something else, wilder and older and more secret still.

  She was glad to have the Apple Tree Man’s company as they approached the beech. It made her feel brave and strong. He set her down and she trotted along beside him now, still marveling that there really was a man living in the oldest tree of the orchard.

  But once they got to the beech tree, her confidence faltered.

  “What should I do?” she asked.

  “Call the cats,” he told her.

  So she did. She cleared her little cat’s throat. “Hello hello,” she called. “Please don’t be angry, cats, but I need your help again.”

  But it wasn’t the cats that came in response to her call.

  A branch creaked in the boughs above, and she thought she heard a rumbling from under the hill, as though old tree roots were shifting against stone. She gave the Apple Tree Man a worried glance, but he wasn’t looking at her. His attention was on the other side of the tree.

  Lillian gasped when she saw what he was looking at. A huge black panther moved like a ghost in the shadows. She thought her heart would stop in its little cat chest.

  “Who…?” she began, but she already knew.

  “Lillian,” the Apple Tree Man said, “meet the Father of Cats.”

  “Hello, cousin,” the panther said to him. His dark gaze turned to her. “Child, you have upset the balance in this world.”

  His voice was like the low growl of a grumpy bear woken from its sleep. When he lay down to look at her, he was still much taller than she was, his tail going pat-pat-pat on the ground behind him, the way a cat’s will before it pounces.

  Lillian felt like her heart was going to jump right out of her chest, it was beating so hard. But she had to be brave. She had to try to make things right.

  “Please, sir. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused,” Lillian said. “I’ve learned to be more careful… about snakes and consequences and everything. I know things aren’t right. I just want to be a girl again. And Aunt needs me, she does.”

  He cocked his head. “And what is it that you so dislike about the shape of a cat?”

  “Oh, nothing. Honestly, I love cats. But I’m really a girl, you see.”

  “What will you give me if I help you?”

  Lillian gulped. She should have seen this coming. Once again, she had nothing to offer. This panther was probably the devil in disguise, and what he really wanted was her soul.

  Lillian looked to the Apple Tree Man for help, but he shook his head as if to say, This you must deal with on your own.

  She turned back to the panther. “I don’t think I have anything you would want,” she said.

  “What if I asked you to come away with me for a year and a day?”

  Where to? Lillian thought. Down below?

  “I—I don’t think I could go,” she told him. “I’d miss Aunt too much. And she’d be so sad. Have you heard her calling for me down by the creek?”

  They were too far away now, but Lillian could almost imagine she could still hear Aunt’s voice, calling into the night.

  “Mmm,” the panther said. Then he, too, looked at the Apple Tree Man. “I’ve warned my children not to work this magic again, but they didn’t listen. You see what problems it causes? A strong lesson is in order, one they will not forget.”

  “She would have died otherwise.”

  “Mmm. But there is a price to pay.” His tail swished ominously in the grass.

  “She means no harm,” the Apple Tree Man added, “and has done only good. She always spares grain for the sparrows. She gives your children milk. She brings me a share of her breakfast every morning.”

  “Mmm,” the panther said a third time.

  It was a deep, rumbly sound. The sound of him thinking, Lillian realized.

  “You’ve a madstone soaked in milk?” the panther finally asked. “For if I change her, she will need it.”

  “I have the stone,” the Apple Tree Man said. “I can soak it in milk.”

  “Then do so.”

  The Apple Tree Man gave her a reassuring smile, then turned and left them, a strange moving figure with his gnarly, twisted limbs.

  The whole of the night seemed to be holding its breath as they waited for the Apple Tree Man to return. Lillian listened to the pat-pat-pat of the panther’s tail tapping the ground and fretted about what kind of payment the Father of Cats would demand of her.

  When the panther finally broke the silence, it was not what Lillian expected to hear.

 
“They say one good turn deserves another,” he murmured.

  “Please, sir,” Lillian said. “That’s not why I shared our food and milk.”

  “I know. And that’s why I will help you. But you will still owe me a favor. I might ask it of you. I might ask it of your children, or your children’s children. Will you accept the debt?”

  Lillian had to gather her courage before she could answer.

  “Only—only if no one will be hurt by it,” she said.

  The panther gave her a grave nod. “That’s a good answer,” he said. “Now here comes our apple tree friend. Lie down and we will see how we may help you.”

  Lillian did as she was told. The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was the Apple Tree Man carrying a tin mug and the deep golden glow that started up in the Father of Cats’ yellow eyes. The last thing she heard was the faint echo of Aunt’s voice in the distance, sounding in her imagination, and the low rumbling music of the panther’s song as he called up his magic right beside her. Then there was a flare of pain such as she’d felt only once before, when the snake bit her. It lasted just a moment, but it felt like forever before the cool, milk-wet stone was laid against the bite and she drifted away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Fairies

  When she woke again, she and the Apple Tree Man were alone under the beech tree. But she was a girl once more. She sat up, hugging herself, and grinned at him.

  “I’m me again,” she said.

  He smiled. “You were always you. Now you just look more familiar, that’s all.” He hesitated, then added, “The Father of Cats said he had one word for you, and it was remember. Do you understand what he meant?”

  Lillian nodded. “It’s the payment I owe him. I have to always carry a debt, never knowing when he might ask for it to be paid. And he said if I don’t pay it, then the debt will carry on to my children, or my children’s children.”

  “Does that trouble you?”

  Lillian thought about it.

  “I don’t think so. I made him promise that I’d only help if no one was to be hurt by my help.”

  The Apple Tree Man smiled. “That was wise of you.”

  “Do you think he’s the devil?” Lillian asked.

  That made her companion laugh. “Hardly. The Father of Cats was here before there was such a word as devil.”

  She looked at his wrinkly face and his gnarly limbs.

  “Are you a fairy man?” she had to ask. She remembered him stepping into the tree and then back out again with the white madstone in his twisty fingers. But the whole rest of the night had begun to take on the quality of a story she’d been told when she was only half-awake, and it was hard to remember now.

  He shook his head. “I’m only what you see: the spirit of an old tree.” He looked up into the branches of the beech and laid his hand upon its bark. “Though not so old as this grandfather.”

  “Do you think the cats will get into trouble?” she asked.

  “I hope not. Perhaps your bargain will cover it. It was a good thing they did.”

  Lillian smiled. “Well, I sure think so.”

  The Apple Tree Man stood up and took her hand. “Come,” he said. “We should go.”

  “I would like to see the fairies sometime,” Lillian said after they’d been walking for a few minutes, already beginning to forget all the wonders she’d seen and experienced.

  Everything seemed odd and a little hazy, even this walk back from the beech tree. She didn’t remember crossing the creek, but suddenly here they were, in familiar fields with the orchard nearby.

  The Apple Tree Man laughed. “You have only to open your eyes,” he said.

  “But I do. I run here and there and everywhere with my eyes wide open, but I never see anything. Fairy-like, I mean.”

  He sat down on the grass and she sat beside him.

  “Try looking from the corner of your eye,” he said. He lifted a hand and pointed down the hill. “What do you see there?”

  She saw the bobbing of Aunt’s lantern as she returned from her fruitless search. She saw dark fields, dotted with apple trees and beehives. She didn’t see even one fairy.

  “Give it a sidelong glance,” the Apple Tree Man told her.

  So she turned her head and looked at the bob of Aunt’s lantern from the corner of her eye.

  “I still don’t see…”

  Anything, she was going to say. But it wasn’t true. The slope was now filled with small, dancing lights, flickering like fireflies. Only these weren’t magical bugs—they were magical people. Tiny glowing people with dragonfly wings who swooped and spun through the air, leaving behind a trail of laughter and snatches of song.

  “Oh, thank you for showing them to me,” Lillian said, turning back to her companion.

  But the Apple Tree Man was gone.

  Lillian reached forward and touched the ground where he’d been sitting. The grass was still pressed flat.

  “Good-bye good-bye,” she said softly. “Tomorrow I’ll bring you a whole plate of biscuits for your breakfast.”

  Then she jumped to her feet and ran down the slope to where her Aunt walked with slumping shoulders, her gaze on the ground, all unaware of the troops of fairies that filled the air around her.

  Contents

  Welcome

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE: The Awful, Dreadful Snake

  CHAPTER TWO: The Girl Who Woke Up as a Cat

  CHAPTER THREE: Annabelle

  CHAPTER FOUR: Treed by a Fox

  CHAPTER FIVE: Old Mother Possum

  CHAPTER SIX: The Cat Who Woke Up as a Girl

  CHAPTER SEVEN: Aunt’s Gone

  CHAPTER EIGHT: The Welch Farm

  CHAPTER NINE: Creek Boys

  CHAPTER TEN: Aunt Nancy

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: Holes in the Sky

  CHAPTER TWELVE: The Hunter

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Mother Manan

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: LaOursville

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Bottle Magic

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Friends

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: The Big Black Spider

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Escape!

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: Back to Black Pine Hollow

  CHAPTER TWENTY: The Girl Who Was a Kitten Again

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Lost

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: The Apple Tree Man

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Fairies

  Acknowledgments

  Artist’s Note

  About This Book

  About the Authors

  Copyright

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2013 by Charles de Lint

  Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Charles Vess

  Book design by Saho Fujii

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at permissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

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  First e-book edition: March 2013

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  ISBN 978-0-316-21551-0