“Imagine a poor mouse trying to say no to Sekhmet.”
Orion batted her lightly. “Despite your willingness to think the worst of my sister, she didn’t coerce them. They, too, sense the urgency of the situation. While grain from the human’s fields is still abundant, they foresee cycles of starvation unless the balance is restored. As it is, we can’t impose on them beyond the summer. Winter, under the best circumstances, can be a time of hunger. We also need to consider how long a large number of cats can live together in harmony. Commitment to the Quest helps us override our natural tendencies, but again, for how long?”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “So you can see that we need to move quickly.”
She saw that easily, but she saw something distasteful lurking beneath the surface of his argument. “Move quickly how?”
“I think it’s time for you to meet the dragon.”
Chapter 15
“Me?” Tara squeaked. “Tiny me? Why not send Sekhmet, whose mouth is as fiery as the dragon’s is said to be, or Bast, who might cool him with milky words? Why not you, the mighty tom? Are all of you afraid?”
“Of course we are. Any cat of intelligence would be. You have to go because you’re the Chosen.”
The job description of the Chosen had greatly expanded since she’d signed on. “Why not do it the usual way? I’ve been alive long enough to know that protocols exist. One of you tells that hawk we’d like to meet with the dragon. The hawk flies to his lair and conveys the request. The dragon arranges safe passage through the swamp, and we have a nice meeting that everyone survives. Give me one good reason not to do it that way.”
“It wouldn’t be as impressive,” Orion said.
Tara reared up and batted her father’s face. “What? I don’t care about impressing creatures. I have a job to do, and I’m interested in surviving so I can do it and maybe live a normal kittenish life afterward.” She was beginning to have doubts about the afterward, though.
Orion gently pushed Tara back on all fours. “Unfortunately, part of that job includes public relations. ‘Small kitten goes bravely forth to meet gigantic dragon’ inspires, encourages, and activates. My intuition tells me you’ll be perfectly safe.”
“Maybe I’d risk my life based on my intuition, but not on yours.”
“You’re probably right.” Orion shook some dried grass out of his fur, but Tara didn’t think he’d shaken the idea out of his mind. He was figuring out some way to trick her.
“Remember when the dragon came to save us?” he said. “A creature who would do that would never hurt you.”
“We never got a confirmation that it was really him. Do you expect me to risk my life on a mirage?”
“Being Chosen involves taking risks.”
How many did they want her to take? How much did they need her to suffer? She was tired of being the Chosen, tired of living in a world where humans smelled and jostled each other and failed to sense the threads that bound them together. Tara wanted her mother.
Emerald! The thought of seeing her turned her paws away from the Clare home, out of the town, into the fields. Her heart thumped in alternating rhythms of joy and sadness. Unutterable longing flexed her legs, and a kitten’s plaintive mewing trembled in her throat.
Orion caught up to her. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To see Emerald.”
“Stop.”
“No way.” Tara darted through the fields, eluding her father, dashing through places where grasses grew tall, her heart singing with excitement. Once in the woods, she zigzagged through ferns and underbrush, darting under fallen logs that slowed her father.
“Where’s your discipline?” he hissed. “Do you think the Quest will wait while you dash off to indulge your infantile whims?”
“I gave up my kittenhood for this Quest,” she called back. “And now you want to send me out on a death mission? Let’s see what Emerald thinks about that.”
They came to an open stretch and Orion caught up to her.
“You gave up your kittenhood? You’re frozen in it; you’re still that whining, sniveling, miserable scrap of creaturehood who didn’t want to leave home. You don’t mind being Chosen as long as cats sing ‘Hail Tara,’ as long as it doesn’t mean inconvenience or dirtying your fur. You mew about your rights when the whole world is in danger. Why did I ever bother with you?”
“Why indeed? Do you think I never wished that you hadn’t? Do you think you were doing me a big favor? I’d trade every ‘Hail, Tara” for one lick from Emerald’s tongue. You can take your personal glory and stuff it up your big fat—”
She was surrounded by warm fur smelling of flowers and enfolded by strong paws. A rough tongue began to scrape away her misery.
“Tara,” Emerald purred. “Why have you been away so long?”
“Hello, Emerald,” Orion said, his voice tentative.
“It’s his fault,” Tara said. Nestled deep in her mother’s fur, she whimpered, “He wants me to meet the dragon.”
“What?”
Tara felt the rage in her mother’s bones. Orion would get the tongue-lashing he deserved.
“Emerald,” Orion said, sounding like a whining kitten himself. “It’s not me, it’s the Quest. We have to get it in motion.”
“You’re as full of shit as ever,” Emerald said coldly. “First, I had to worry about humans hurting my Tara. Now I have to worry about her crazy father sending her off to see a dragon, who’ll probably step on her. Have you gone out of your mind?”
“This kitten has a mission. What’s going to happen to the world if she dashes here and there whenever she feels like it?”
“She’s been down in that village living with dirty humans for half a moon. You call that dashing here and there? Did she complain once about missing me? And even if she did break your precious discipline for five minutes, so what? The more you growl at her, the more confused she gets, the more she wants to cling to safety. With all the drivel you like to spout about mothers, you’ve got something to learn. We don’t stop loving our babies because they make mistakes. We don’t make them so scared to set one paw off the path that they end up lost in the woods. You blame her for picking up human fears, but it doesn’t enter your fool head that coming home could get her back into balance. You won’t even admit that you’ve missed me, too.”
She drew her mouth back in a sneer. “Because Orion is one bad-ass cat and he’s got that discipline thing down.”
Orion bared his teeth. “I gave up my freedom to follow the path of the Quest.”
“Ha, like I gave up my kittenhood,” Tara hissed from the safety of Emerald’s chest.
“I don’t hear that you’ve given up that much,” Emerald said, “not to judge by the drooling females who wander up here and ask, ‘Where’s Orion?’ Not that I care. I’ve learned a little discipline myself, and I don’t intend to mate for a while, so if the old itch grabs you, scratch away.”
“Emerald, you’re different from any female I ever …”
“Balled? Right, I’m the Mother of the Chosen. Lucky me, I get to see my kitten turned into dragon bait. You open your big ears wide. You should have brought Tara back here sooner, instead of blaming her when she couldn’t stand being away from me another minute.”
Orion turned his back on them and began licking his paws.
“And furthermore,” Tara began, but Emerald batted her softly.
“Always give a cat a chance to regain his pride before he repents.”
Only a few minutes later Orion muttered, “You’re right. I feel like a ball of rabbit dung. Emerald, forgive me?”
“We’ll see about that. I might consider it if you’d ever admit that sometimes you’re a lost kitten, too.”
Emerald groomed Tara until the kitten felt the last trace of human odor leave her. “It’s so hard to live with them,” she said with a small sigh.
“And you’re a brave kitten to do that. Now say hello to your brothers and sister.”
&nbs
p; Tara touched noses with her littermates and enjoyed a series of tussles with each. It felt so good to be a kitten again.
“Tell us about humans,” Cloud begged, and Tara said everything she could think of. Their eyes widened in wonder as she told them of her encounter with the human called Guardian.
“I would have been frightened,” said Oak. “To touch a heart so cold must have made your paws freeze.”
“It was almost more frightening to feel the warmth beneath,” Tara said, “and to sense how hard he tried to cool it.”
“I don’t see how they can be saved,” Chestnut said.
“Well, neither do I at the moment, so let’s talk about something else,” Tara said.
After frolicking through the woods the kittens curled up in a collective heap. Tara didn’t want to go back at all, and she hoped that Emerald’s scolding had wiped the idea of a visit to the dragon out of Orion’s mind.
She and her littermates were ambling back to the grove, when Bast and Sekhmet, approached. They were accompanied by Ossa, the cynic from the village, and a group of strange cats. Tara sniffed and recoiled. The cats reeked of rotten food, filth, and the subtle bitterness of defeat.
Emerald gestured to her, and she pranced over to her mother’s side. “Be polite,” Emerald whispered. “I smelled this badly when I first came to the forest. A cat who lives in the city, no matter how hard she tries, can’t lick the smell from her fur. Wind and flowers and grass will do the trick for our friends.”
“Friends?”
“I knew them all in the city, and that white tom was nearly my mate. Come with me to greet him.”
“Senti, meet Tara,” Emerald said.
“This is the Chosen?” Senti asked.
“She is,” Sekhmet said. “Tara, Senti is one of the cats who became curious about seeing where we all went.”
“A little holiday in the country is good for a cat,” Senti said, “especially when it sounds like an adventure, but where’s the action?”
“All over the place,” Orion said, his mouth curling in the suggestion of a snarl. “Tara’s worked very hard to bring one human closer to the Path.”
“One? At that rate, it’s going to take more lives than a cat has to bring even a few of them down the right road.”
“The city cat knows how to do the math.” Ossa, the perpetual cynic, arched his back. “We’d like to see something dramatic. Ever since someone tried to bump off their leader, the humans have been on their worst behavior. The other night, if a crowd of cats hadn’t intervened, some young males would have killed a kitten.”
Tara’s fur rose with horror. “Why?”
Ossa sneered. “Because they get off on wanton violence. All their lives they’ve been raised to hate the dragon. They’d like to kill him, but in the meantime, they’ll attack any innocent animal. If you really are the Chosen, you’ll do something for us.”
Emerald pulled Tara close to her side. “Not to make light of the incident, but Misha and I have seen a lot more cats killed than you have, and my baby can’t go around the countryside like some crazy avenger. She’s trying to make life better for all cats. Instead of complaining that enough isn’t happening, you could think of helping out. The Quest doesn’t want half-hearted participation. We’re not looking for spectators, either. You don’t get to stand on the edge of things, cheering on my kitten, and if you decide to boo you’ll have to contend with me.”
“Evil-mouth bitch,” someone muttered.
“Got that right,” Emerald said, “and I’ve had a rough day, so it’s likely to get worse.”
Senti stepped forward. “Emerald, I know you’re no pampered cat, but how can a well-fed little kitten, shining with health, understand the first thing about cats? I could tell her stories.”
“So could I.”
“And I.”
The cats began to rumble like thunderclouds. Misha slowly lifted herself and dragged herself next to Tara. “No offense to anyone and what they’ve suffered, but I’m seeing a bunch of cats get dragged down by their bad memories, like all your nine lives are behind you. Maybe Tara hasn’t gone through bad suffering—although she nearly got killed by a human before she was two months old, and I don’t call that good suffering—but you know damned well that Emerald and I lived in a stinking place where the Green seemed like a bad joke. I told her about it anyway. Maybe she thought I was wrong in the head, but when these three fancy-talking cats came along, she believed enough to take a chance. And so did I, and my bones are a lot older than any of yours.”
She flicked her tail, looking as if she’d like to whip some sense into them with it. “Tara can’t give you faith; it’s got to come from you. Faith is what makes it happen. You think one little kitten can carry you all to a world that’s good for cats? You believe in that world, and your paws will carry you just fine. If you don’t believe, if you wait for faith to appear like a nice piece of meat, you’ll stay hungry. I’m not hungry any longer, not in body and not in spirit, and every day I’m grateful for the faith that carried me here.”
Misha raised her head, suddenly not a skinny old cat with worn-down teeth, but a being almost as beautiful as the Long-tailed One. Tara had never so fully appreciated this cat who had never lost her faith. Misha, who had only seen the soot-darkened walls of the alley, had sung of beauty. She had saved Emerald and given her love. She had made everything possible.
Tara touched noses with Misha. “Thank you, cat of great faith.”
“And you’re my reward,” Misha said. “I know I don’t have many days left, but that doesn’t matter now. I’ve seen enough to make me happy, and I’m going to die in the Green, no matter what happens.”
Tara crept away to sit beneath a tree, humbled by Misha, troubled by confusion about where her paws should go next. Emerald was right; vengeance wasn’t part of her job, but what was? Public relations? Those city cats had made a long and probably dangerous trip to come here. They might be braver than she thought.
She could be brave, too. Meeting the dragon couldn’t be as dangerous as living with humans, could it?
There was only one way to find out.
* * *
Druid wasn’t having one of his better days. In the morning all the animals gathered on a cypress island to put the wolf clans on trial. A committee of rabbits and squirrels had accused the latest crop of cubs of killing their kind for sport. The older wolves were suitably disturbed, but the young ones failed to see what they’d done wrong.
“It disturbs the balance,” a silver-muzzled elder growled. “We kill no more than we need.”
“You think the world’s going to tip over because of a few miserable rabbits?” a younger wolf sneered. “The humans will wipe us all out in the end anyway.”
Council representatives sentenced him to a week away from the family den, a punishment so severe that the other culprits immediately promised to abandon their thoughtless ways, but the animals left the meeting shaken by the young wolf’s words.
Tomo left the island with Druid. “They all feel that way. I’ve been going around until my tongue is dry, telling everyone about the Chosen, but they’re like you were at first. ‘Sure, Tomo, where’s the catnip?’ The only kind of animal who would give them any hope would be one about ten times the size of you, a beast who would go over the fields and destroy the humans with a single stomp of his foot. We aren’t a hopeful community.”
“I know,” Druid said. “The young ones still come to me for teaching, but now all they want to know is why, if the Mother loves us, she’ll allow the humans to destroy us. I don’t have an answer. How useless I feel, how helpless. How hopeless.”
“To be given a small amount of hope is worse than none at all,” Tomo said, his golden eyes lackluster. “Why hasn’t this Chosen kitten done anything yet?”
A deep sympathy for the cougar stirred in Druid’s spacious heart. What had happened to once-cheerful Tomo? Even when he’d first learned of the humans’ intentions, he had been bold and brave, w
illing to sacrifice his life for the defense of his home. Clearly, vague spiritual promises had been too much for a cat whose practical mind was ill equipped to digest such esoteric food.
And worse than that, Druid thought bitterly after the cougar left. Like anyone unfortunate enough to open his heart to the Mother, Tomo had been seduced into believing Her promises. Careful and canny as he was, he’d for the first time abandoned the wariness that made him such a fine hunter and flung himself into the arms of One Who was perhaps more dangerous than any human. He’d given his heart to Her, and now he felt Her teeth sinking into it. He hadn’t had Druid’s early lessons in betrayal.
* * *
I will, I will, Tara told herself. I can be brave. She hurried through the woods, and dedication carried her down mossy and piney paths, her paws dancing like raindrops on water. She tried not to notice when her paws started sinking instead of dancing because the ground was getting more and more spongy, mucky, muddy, starting to smell of rot. I will turned into a faltering cry, drowned out by I won’t. I can’t.
How clever of Orion and all those older cats to send off a kitten whose whiskers were still wet with milk. Just a Quest, just a few humans, just a dragon. Hail, Tara, they shouted, loudly enough to fill even her big ears. Hail, Chosen. Chosen for the dirty work. Was Orion here, muddying his paws? No, that special privilege was reserved for glorious Tara.
And was anyone kind enough to give her instructions about how to find the dragon? Tara paused at a fork in the path. One branch clearly led to dry ground; she could even see a bit of sunlight. The other led to increasing muck and mire. That would be the right one. The most difficult and disgusting path was surely that of the Quest.
Until now she’d heard the distant twitter of birds and the scurrying of small animals. This part of the swamp was entirely silent, as if even its residents shunned it. Very sensible of them, she thought as she tried, unsuccessfully, to leap over a large puddle.
Now completely soaked, she marched on grimly, her spirits as damp as her fur. Orion said all paths were possible for those who followed the Big-tailed One, but Tara would like to see him on this one.