11: Shail

The crag cat's bellow made my ears ring. My head spun. I could barely catch my breath. In the time it took me to prop myself up the spiders had dropped onto the cat. It hissed and spat, ripping them off its body. Their toothy mouths pinged harmless off its thick hide, and the ones that dropped on its face were violently wrenched off before it could latch onto a sensitive area like the cat's eyes and ears.

One of the rejected spiders scuttled toward me on its seven remaining legs. I scrambled onto my feet, felt the world vibrate as my body threatened to pass out, and then I'd found a branch. I swung it at the spider, swatted it into the ground and impaled it with the branch. The stick crunched through its hairy exoskeleton.

I leaned against it to catch my breath.

A steady, guttural rumble drew my attention off the twitching limbs and onto the crag cat. The spiders lay in ruins around it, and those that still had the ability, had retreated back up the trees. Muscles moved beneath the cat's thick hide. It was easily larger than I was, and seemed even larger now that I was staring down its plated snout.

"Woah, there," I said, feeling my hands shake, noticing how pale my fingers were in the night air. I couldn't find the knife, wasn't sure what had happened to it.

The cat hissed, lips drawing back, fangs flashing in dappled moonlight that reflected off the running water. It stepped sideways around me, club tail high and steady, and in that moment i couldn't tell whether it would swing that tail upon me, or tear into me with its mighty jaws.

I inched toward the splattered meat. It countered every movement, stepping closer, back arched, claws extended. "This is for you," I said. "A present." Slowly, so slowly, fighting against my body's want to collapse, I crouched down, lifted a piece of bony flesh.

The cat tensed.

I tossed the meat in front of it.

Immediately it sprang back toward the waterfall, hissing.

I tried again with a smaller piece of flesh. It landed just beside the first piece. The cat's head rose above its shoulders. Its nose twitched. The arch of its back flattened. In a series of long, hesitant motions, it crept forward to the meat, sniffed it, watched me, and finally nipped an end, pulling it toward the water. It devoured the larger piece first, then returned for the second, which it ate where it'd fallen.

"Good right," I said in soft encouragement, feeling the leaf-litter for more bloody chunks. "Want some more?" It was slow progress, but with a series of ever-shortening tosses I'd eventually coaxed the cat within ten feet of my exhausted fingers. The last piece I held in my hand, but my arms were too weak. I dropped it in front of my feet and waited.

The cat ignored the meat at first, stepping forward one paw at a time, neck stretched out to barely sniff my elbows as I sat with my knees pulled to my chest. Its big grey face was dappled in blues and whites, spotted as a snow leopard though it shared little else in common with the Terran feline. It finished the meat, then sat back and cleaned its paws.

"Holy shit," I muttered, wiping sweat off my face. I was doing it. I was actually surviving with this thing. I wouldn't call it a bond, but we were getting somewhere.

Teeth sunk into my neck. I screamed, grabbing at the rubbery trunk of a spider. It dropped onto my face. The cat hissed, swiped its claw across my arm, and ran. I spun hard onto the ground. The spider stayed attached, sharp claws digging into my face as I dug my fingers into the trunk. Blood sprayed across my face as I ripped it apart. The spider released with a shrill scream, flailing, trunk slapping my chin.

I grabbed at my neck. The first wound had been a patchy messy, but this had ripped flesh. I felt sick. I wretched blood into my fingers.

And I sat there, shaking, weak, leaned against the tree while the crag cat watched from the safety of the water.

And then I heard the groaning squeal of wagon wheels.

"Not bad, not bad," came a cheerfully old voice. The clink of wheels was replaced by the heavy grunt of a bear settling down. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see what looked like a giant sloth bear, attached to a small peddler's wagon. A small, skinny figure had hopped down from the front, grabbing a lantern that had been swinging off an iron hook. In one hand the person held the lantern, in the other they gripped a walking stick adorned with tiny, shriveled lizard heads.

The person wore bright red robes weighed down by several medallions and charms that jingled as they hurried off. They were small, maybe four feet tall, and even with the light flickering beside their face, I couldn't figure out if it was an elderly man or woman. Their features were gentle, sloping, with soft green eyes. Setting the lantern into the earth with a grunt, they reached out and touched my neck, just above the spots where the spiders had bitten.

"Hang tight, dove. I've got just the thing," they murmured, heading back to the wagon. The bear just sat on its haunches, watching its owner rush back and forth. It didn't seem to care about the crag cat, and when I managed to look toward the waterfall, I noticed the armored feline was gone. I swore.

The person, ambling back beside me, raised a white eyebrow. "What's the matter?" they asked. In their wrinkled hands they carried a small green vial.

"Nothing," I croaked. My pulse fluttered. I was finding it difficult to catch my breath.

"Drink this, dove," they said, and when I turned my head they opened my mouth with a firm hand and poured the liquid in. The taste was warm, sweet, almost like chocolate. I coughed a lot of it up, but some must've gotten down, because I felt an immediate relief from pain. The blood that soaked my shoulder and dribbled through the chemise down between my breasts slowed. The scratches on my arm from the crag cat began to dissolve.

"What are you?" I gasped, watching my skin repair itself.

"A peddler," they said, hefting themselves onto a small boulder. They laid the staff across their lap. Their feet swung gaily as they looked me over, green eyes gleaming.

I wiped my mouth on my hand, glancing from the disinterested, yawning bear to the curious wagon to its peddling owner. "A peddler deep in the woods at night?"

Tiny shoulders lifted. They smiled, tugging on a long feather earring. "A market doesn't fill with foreign wares unless someone goes to a foreign place and brings them back. That's what I do."

"And you just happened to stumble upon me?" I asked, finding the strength to stand.

"You happened to bump into me in the market," the peddler admitted, scratching their bald head. Every time that voice drifted tones, I changed my mind about their gender, but was too afraid to ask. "I overheard you and the Prince. I'll admit, that got me curious. A human hanging around him? So I did a little listening and a little asking and I've got to admit  I may have put a little money down on you making it far in the Hunt. Haven't seen one like you in my lifetime. It's worth a little jaunt through the Oaks to see what happens in the Hunt."

"One like me?"

The staff was lifted in one skinny arm and pointed toward the side, where a spider lay on its side, legs curled in frozen repose. Its trunk lay against its side, blue with frost. Near it lay the knife, which I picked up. Frosted glass stuck to the silver surface as I lifted it from the ground. "I did this?" I asked, staring down at my hands.

"Last one could've burned the oaks down if she wanted. Seems you won't be doing any of that, but some do say the world will end in ice."

"Why didn't she burn this to the ground if she had the chance?"

"She fell. Not quite like you." The peddler paused, tilting their head to one side like an owl. "Maybe exactly like you. If you aren't any different, you'll be just the same."

"How do I control this?" Out of curiosity, I tried to summon it through my hands, willed the knife to freeze. Nothing. I kicked the frozen spider.

"You run on now, dove," the peddler said. "You've got a week to figure that out, or learn how to fight."

"A week won't help me much," I said.

"You'll have to be cleverer," the peddler said, jumping down. They made their way over to the bear, scratched it behind one furry ear. "I'll be going now. You go on after me."

"Can I buy something from you?" I asked, glancing back to the empty waterfall. "I was trying to tame a crag cat. It ran off, and now I'm out of meat. I'm hoping it'll come back."

The peddler tugged their earring again. "You're staying here?"

On impulse I looked back at the trees, watching the branches sway in the lantern light. "I need the friend."

The peddler nodded and walked around to the back of the wagon. Popping the door, they handed me a small package of dried meat. "Try a new spot, maybe closer to the falls. Blood attracts the damned suckers. That's why you'll be using this."

Jerky. I nibbled a piece, it seemed fine. "What do I owe you?"

"You'll make me enough to cover this if you survive the Hunt. Worry about that, dove. Now, if you're alright, I'll be on my way." The peddler climbed to the front of the cart. I passed them the lantern. The bear rose, the wheels squeaked, and I was left alone once more.

This time I climbed towards the waterfall, onto the slick stones where the water sprayed my ankles and I was confident a spider couldn't sneak up on me. I waited there at least an hour, scanning the shoreline and rocks for the silvery creature. I looked at my hands again, tried several times to freeze some of the water, create a snowflake or something.

Nothing.

At last I gave up, settling in the wet rocks. The feeling was uncomfortable, but I never felt cold. And I hadn't felt cold in the woods. And Mom had mentioned my hands being freezing...

A dappled head lowered its head to drink from the water. Its paws were bloody, like it'd been back around my original site. I sat up, whistled. The cat's head shot up. Water poured from its chin. Light reflected yellow in its eyes as it stared at the fall. I rose, eased my way away from the rocks. It didn't move, so I threw a piece of jerky.

The cat and I played the same game as before. I fed it, the cat ate, and I threw down another piece with a gentle word or two. This time, though, when it padded up beside me, it let me lay my fingers on its smooth, hard shoulder. It took a piece from my hand, purring loud, and let me do it again. Soon enough, I was stroking it's chin, the cat's cub tail rumbling along the ground.

"Boy or girl?" I asked as the pony-sized cat purred. I wasn't sure if crag cats were like regular cats, but a quick peek under the hood and I'd figured it out. "Boy. Okay. Boy. Good boy. "

Of course, feeding him was one thing.  Taking him back was a whole different challenge. One that maybe the environment would help- the forest was overgrown, filled with roots and heavy vines, enough to fashion a shoddy collar or lead. So I tore off a little bite of jerky, leading the cat near a patch of vines.

"That's good, right?" I murmured as he swallowed it down. Every so often, as I wove the vines into a chain, I stopped to feed the waiting cat another small piece. "There's more of it back where I'm going. I'm going to be a Lady there. All kinds of good things come with that. Free pets, free food. All you've gotta do is bite some asses if they get close enough."

The crag cat's ears perked forward. It tilted its head, long fangs glittering. No wonder Chiro had recommended it; it was basically a stony sabertooth cousin.

"I promise, I'll brush your teeth after."

He watched me, let me slide the vines around his neck.

"How's that feel? Comfy? I've never had a cat before," I said, testing our arrangement with apiece of meat. "I don't know if you guys like being walked or what, but I really am hoping you do."

The cat shook his head, pawed at the vines, but I shoved another piece of jerky ear his snout. The distraction worked. He trotted along after me.

"There we go. That's it. Come on." I paused, took a good long look. "Come on, Shail." Some tiny part of me presumed that if I named it, it might like me more.

*

Shail and I took until early evening the second night to get back to the castle. The cat was slow, I ran out of jerky, and then he'd gone and killed a furry rodent of some kind. I had to wait for him to swallow it down and sunbathe and clean his furless body before we could get a move on. And then at the edge of the forest, he'd protested again. The sun was going down when I'd coaxed him to the gates and the gargoyles had someone open them.

Neither Prince nor King awaited my return when the gates opened and I arrived in the main courtyard. A part of me had wanted to see the look on their faces, to get just a tiny ounce of approval in a world that didn't have much to spare. But there were only strangers, more strangers and the hard green eyes of Akta.

"Welcome, Lady Tay," he said, offering an arm draped in billowing silks. "Please allow me to escort you to your chambers."

"No," I said, and kept right on past him, holding my cat's leash like I had any control over him. Shail grumbled at everyone, but I thought he raised his snout a little higher as he passed the Lord Stag. The halls were vast and large to accommodate its unusual residents; even here a creature like Shail seemed small, the way the cattle—large, imposing beasts—seemed dwarfed out in nature.

It was only about half a minute after my power-striding through the hall that I realized that I'd have to turn around and ask him for directions. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him behind us, tapping his foot, clearly waiting for me to do just that. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, I laid my hand on Shail's shoulder and started looking for the castle's servants, reasoning that at least one of the designated caretakers had to know where I was spending the night.

I found a woman carrying a bundle of reeds and sticks. Her dress was an ashen mess. A talk with her lead me down the stairs with her into their quarters, where we flagged down a moon-faced young girl who knew the maid who'd prepared the room for me. I wished I could have helped them, but at the moment I didn't have a scrap of food or whatever they used as currency around these parts. I could only thank them both and accept the key to my new bedroom, all the way on the third floor.

I turned the key, pushed open the door, and there on a lavish bed sat Prince Chiro. Shail growled, but was content to squeeze past me and sniff his offered palm.

"The King thought you might want some advice," he said, as Shail laid at his feet. That had me worried a tad- what if he acted like this with Akta?

"I just want a bath," I groaned and flopped on the mattress beside him.