Greta and Boris

by Sian Norris

  It was Kyrie, who you have already met in Greta’s kitchen. She was a great and brave warrior, the greatest in the Kingdom of Cats, revered and beloved by all.

  ‘As you know,’ she announced to her spellbound audience, ‘it has been many years since I have been around the Kingdom of Cats. Yet my love and loyalty to my native land has never left me. Whether protecting my human or those who are in need, I have always been one who wants to help. And it has come to my attention that the ones who need my help now are you, your Royal Highnesses.’ With that, she gave a sweeping bow. ‘The Prince has been cat-napped. There is only one who can help him, and it is not you, nor I, nor the greatest army. His fate lies in the hands of a young girl, his human. The girl-child Greta is the only one with the strength of heart, courage and love to rescue our

  future ruler.’

  ‘Of course!’ said the King, clutching his wife’s paw. ‘The human child! How could we have forgotten!’

  ‘The situation is more complex than simply letting her rescue him, Your Highness. The girl is young and nervous, plus unfamiliar with the ways of both our world and that of the Rats, let alone the journey in between. So,’ she paused to let her words sink in. ‘I propose that I go meet the child and accompany her on the treacherous mission. Without vanity, I am a great warrior and have faced both rats and the perils of the journey to their land on many occasions. I cannot rescue our Prince myself, but I will assist in every way I can, with all my spirit.’

  A single tear glistened in the eye of the Queen Alexandria. ‘My good Kyrie. You have become a legend in our state for your many acts of bravery and love. And now you offer us this service. You will be much rewarded.’

  Kyrie bowed again. ‘I do not except reward beyond the pride and honor in knowing I will complete this quest with Greta.’

  The King clapped his paws and an atmosphere of muted celebration filled the throne room as a banquet in honor of the returning warrior was prepared and eaten, whilst excited cats young and old clamored around her graceful figure to hear her tales.

  To her captive audience, Kyrie told the stories of her travels. From Scotland to America, Africa to Tibet…but it would take a whole other book to fully recount all of Kyrie’s marvelous adven- tures. If you ever go to school in the Kingdom of Cats you will learn about most of them in your history class.

  In which Greta faces her first challenge

  Greta had no experience of a real-life adventure before. But she had read about them in books and had traveled far and wide in her imagination, so she knew how to prepare. She packed some sandwiches, and bottles of water. She rolled up a spare pair of jeans and a jumper, and a spare t-shirt, and put it all in her rucksack. Finally she added her toothbrush and toothpaste. She was ready to go.

  Kyrie nodded approvingly at Greta’s preparations. ‘We nearly have everything we need,’ she said. ‘But you have forgotten one important thing. Whenever going on an adventure, especially one that may be dangerous, everyone needs something that will mark them out as a warrior. Something that provides inner strength when it is needed. This must be chosen carefully, for it is the one thing that cannot be advised or chosen by anyone else, and is the most important possession of the warrior. It is from her mascot that her strength is derived, and it is something she can always turn to in times of crisis.’

  ‘Could I ask,’ Greta asked, ‘what you carry as your mascot?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Kyrie. ‘I carry an engraving that a cat gave me in Tibet, with the word “peace” written on a tiny piece of wood. The strength of my fight is drawn from a love and desire for peace, not revenge and anger.’ Kyrie stretched and revealed the mascot that she wore on a collar around her neck. ‘So choose wisely Greta. It determines a lot about your adventure.’

  Greta nodded and returned upstairs to find her mascot. She felt, after the gravity and beauty of Kyrie’s choice, that she could not afford to let her guide down. But it was hard! Hard to know what was most precious to her, what would help her in her fight. This kind of thing had never happened to her before.

  And then, passing by the corner of her dressing table, she realized what it was that she should take. She picked up a locket belonging to her great-grandmother that had been passed down a few generations until it had reached her. Inside was a photo of Boris as a kitten, and a photo of her. From her family’s past, her own life and the purpose of her mission she could gain her strength. She hurried downstairs, told Kyrie her choice and the two smiled warmly at each other. They were ready to go.

  ‘Is it a long way?’ asked Greta, after the two of them had been walking through the forests behind her house for a good many hours.

  Greta had never before realized how vast the woods were, which she suspected had something to do with the fact that she had never walked through them with a member of the animal world before. The ways of the forest were far greater and more significant than human built paths would have you believe. She had become aware of so many things in the last few hours that she would never have seen without Kyrie. They had passed towns and villages of mice and voles, the boating communities in the brooks and streams, the bats and birds working the telegraph service, the tunnels that led to the underground cities of what Kyrie referred to darkly as ‘the dogs’ but which Greta understood to mean foxes and badgers. When asked this, Kyrie had just spat and said how all dogs were just one big pain to her. So Greta decided not to pursue the subject and inform her that badgers weren’t, in actual fact, dogs at all. She felt that Kyrie was someone you just didn’t enter into arguments with.

  Greta was amazed by the beauty of the forest that she had lived so close to for so many years. It felt like she was seeing it for the first time. They had walked through shrubs and under oaks and chestnuts, sycamores and ash, every tree she could think of. The ground under them was moving with friendly bugs and the air was buzzing with the sounds of bees and birdsong. The moss under her feet cushioned her every step, as ferns and overhanging branches brushed against her bare arms in a pleasantly tickling and scratchy manner. After the first green stage of the forest they had passed a meadow filled with wild flowers and long sweeping grasses, where small mice scurried about their feet (Kyrie was very good and claimed she wasn’t hungry), and rabbits and hares bounded across their path.

  Along from the meadow stood the evergreens, tall and haunting, where soft brown earth and leaves lay underfoot. They stretched so tall that the tops were invisible, providing a sheltering canopy overhead. Unlike the busy nature of the wood and the meadow, here it was still and quiet. The only sound came from their footsteps and occasional conversation. Then the leafy green trees returned, and once more they were back amidst the wild buzz of forest life. Greta felt that they must have been walking for miles, and she had to admit that she was getting tired and rather hungry. Suddenly, Kyrie stopped in her tracks, circled herself three times and sat down.

  ‘Here we are then,’ she said, enjoying the feeling of not being on her feet.

  Greta sat down beside her. They were underneath a huge oak with a massive canopy of bright green leaves. Acorns were budding on every branch. Scattered on the ground around them, nestling in the roots, were great piles of golden and red and orange autumn leaves. The ground glowed with the warm colors, just as the sky dazzled in green.

  ‘Here we are where?’ Greta asked, making herself comfortable between two vastly wide roots.

  ‘At the staircase. We’re early, but that’s ok, as I’m hungry! I really think it’s time to crack open some food.’

  Greta nodded, and decided to keep her confusion quiet. As far as she could see there was no staircase, nor had she ever known any reason why you’d be “early” to reach a staircase. She reasoned to herself that all would be explained to her eventually, that Kyrie was wise and disliked to be pestered, and right now food was their priority. She opened the knapsack and gave Kyrie her chicken and some milk which she lapped up, whilst Greta had some juice and rice salad. Chewing over her food, she started thinkin
g about where she was and what would happen to her. For the first time in the day, she felt frightened. It was strange. She had been swept away in the excitement of meeting Kyrie, so that the actual realization of what she was doing had failed to dawn on her. But now her head became rather too full of the fact that Boris was missing, she had to rescue him from a Rat King, and she was under the protection of a warrior cat who she didn’t know, travelling to she didn’t know where. Her parents were in Botswana, no-one knew where she was and it all seemed very dangerous and frightening. She couldn’t stop now. But she wished she felt less scared.

  Kyrie watched her, seeing the path of expressions travel across her face.

  ‘You’re getting frightened, aren’t you?’ she asked, her voice full of kindness.

  ‘Oh, n…no, it’s, it’s fine.’

  Kyrie laughed. ‘Silly you! It’s okay to be scared. We are all scared sometimes. And what we have asked of you is frightening. Not just that, but it is daunting and hard to understand. Yet, what you must keep remembering is that you were chosen for a reason, Greta. And that reason is simple. You can do this. You are the only one who is truly able to. The Kingdom of Cats has many warriors, yet we knew that you would be the only one who could succeed. And we wouldn’t have asked it of you if we didn’t believe that. But what matters is that you believe it too. You have to believe in yourself, Greta. In you, and in your strength and your bravery, and in your love for Boris. Only then can you overcome fear. Being scared is natural. And so is freedom from it.’

  Greta had a few tears in her eyes, but managed a smile. ‘You’re right Kyrie. But it’s hard. It is hard to think of myself as brave.’

  ‘I know. But you are courageous. Every day in your life you show bravery in daring to be yourself. You are strong in your character and in staying true to yourself. And that is braver than fighting ten thousand rats single-handedly. Hold on to that, for it is what makes you wise and magical.

  ‘Now I am going to explain to you what happens next. To reach the next stage of our journey, we have to climb the staircase of autumn leaves, which builds here in around five minutes. At that time, the wind blows at the tree from the east, pulling up the leaves that we’re sitting on and forming a spiral that leads to Cloud-Top Land. We have to climb up it so that we can continue our travels.’

  ‘But how do we climb leaves?’ asked Greta, feeling nervous once more.

  Kyrie smiled slowly. ‘Through trust. To travel up the leaves, you have to trust that you won’t fall. You have to believe in yourself. You have to have faith in your courage and ability. Trust the leaves beneath your feet. If you believe that you can walk the staircase, then you will stay up and climb it successfully.’

  ‘And if not?’

  Kyrie shrugged. ‘I think you know the answer to that. But hurry, there’s no time for pondering. Here she comes!’

  As she spoke, a mammoth gust of wind pulled at Greta’s hair and made her jump back. She quickly began to stuff their belongings back into the bag, whilst she watched the magnificent sight unfold in front of her eyes.

  As the wind blew, the carpet of gold and red and orange leaves that had lain so peacefully under their feet was whipped into a fury. It flew up into the air around them as the wind blew the leaves round and round, higher and higher, spiraling into the sky to create a golden-red staircase of autumn leaves.

  ‘It’s so beautiful!’ Greta cried out in amazement. She felt that never in her life had she seen anything so wonderful.

  ‘Come on then!’ Kyrie said, and with a graceful bound she landed on the first step of leaves. They supported her weight perfectly and she began to climb.

  ‘Ok,’ Greta murmured. ‘I can do this. I believe in myself. I really do believe I can do this.’ She hesitated for a moment longer. ‘Well. Here goes!’

  With a slightly clumsy leap, she found herself in the air walking over the spiraling leaves. ‘I’m doing it!’ she squealed. ‘Look Kyrie! I’m really doing it!’

  ‘Of course you are,’ Kyrie said. ‘I never doubted you would!’

  Overwhelmed with happiness at her ability to walk on the floating leaves, Greta ran quickly up the stairs; trusting that for each step the leaves, wind and her own self-belief would stop her from falling. But as she got ever higher, nerves started to creep into the back of her mind. What if she stopped believing, she thought. What then? Would she fall? Could she fall? She was so high up and she had no idea what lay beneath her. Or above her for that matter. Self-belief was so shifting. What if she took one step without…

  ‘AHHHHH!’ she screamed, as she stepped forward to find nothing but air beneath her. ‘Kyrie!’ she shouted, ‘help me!’

  But Kyrie was too far away to really hear her over the rush of the wind and the rustling of the leaves that drowned out her cries.

  Greta found herself clutching onto the leaves with her legs dangling into the nothing beneath her. She knew she had to trust herself and believe in her ability to get back on the staircase. But having fallen, she had lost so much of what little self-belief she had anyway. Hanging there, she wrestled with the voices that told her she was in danger, as she struggled to recover the pride and bravery that had been with her minutes before, skipping up the leaves.

  She could feel her grasp on the leaves, the only thing holding her up, getting weaker and weaker. Slowly, her mind began to give up. She had been wrong, Kyrie had been wrong. She wasn’t able to do this. They had made a mistake. Tiredness swept over her as she felt the leaves begin, slowly, slowly, to slip from beneath her hands.

  Just then, she felt a burning sensation right against her chest. She looked down to see her mascot, her locket, glowing red against her skin, as the ache in her chest got worse. With a flash of clarity, she realized what was happening. She had forgotten where she was, what she was doing. She had to rescue Boris. She had to! She loved Boris, and he had always been there for her. And a bunch of leaves and some silly hesitating doubts weren’t going to get between her and those that she loved!

  With a massive push of will, she grabbed hold of the leaves that began to feel steadier under her now unflinching hands. She pulled herself up, and the leaves bore her weight. Clutching hold of her locket, she got onto her feet and stood firm on the path of leaves below her. Then, with a look of sheer strength and determination on her face, she began to run, faster and faster, quicker than she had ran the 100m race at school. Her feet became fairy light, skipping and jumping over the path that pushed her higher and higher on the wind, whilst the rustle of the leaves wished her good luck and love.

  The ground shrank below her but she refused to look down, holding her locket and thinking of Boris. She thought of the strength that Kyrie had told her she possessed, and laughed at the stupidity of her doubts. All that mattered now was the overwhelming importance of her mission. And soon enough she could see Kyrie waiting at the top, as with a final push she landed beside her on what appeared to be a soft and sandy beach. The leaves fell beneath her as the wind died down, collecting themselves back below the great oak. And there they lay still, waiting for the next gust of wind that would build the staircase.

  Greta smiled.

  In which Greta travels through Cloud-Top Land

  ‘Thew!’ cried Kyrie. ‘Well done Greta! What did I tell you?’

  Greta nodded, smiling. ‘I know. I thought I’d lost it, but then…’

  ‘I had every faith. And that is the first step. Once one more person has faith in you, the easier it becomes to discover faith in yourself.’ She paused to nuzzle Greta’s face. ‘But really, there is no time to lose. We have a long way to go and not enough moments in the day. So, come on, shake yourself down and let’s keep moving!’

  Although she felt tired and really wanted to rest for as long as she could, Greta obediently followed Kyrie’s instructions. She shook the leaves from her hair and clothes and stood up. As she did so, she began to fully appreciate the splendor that surrounded her. In her fear and excitement in climbing the staircase, she hadn
’t paid much attention to where exactly it was that they were going.

  They had reached the land above the treetops. Here, the clouds settle at the uppermost tips of the tallest trees, which is why you often can’t see the tops of the trees when you’re walking in the forest. The land wasn’t land as we understand it here in the human world, rather it was a swirling, sweet mist. It seemed so light and moist under her feet, yet it held her aloft so that she didn’t sink into it. In this white maze you could see the heads of the trees poking their way through the clouds. From below they were so high and imposing, yet here they were only about the same height as she was. Everything was silver and green and it was the most beautiful landscape she had ever seen.

  ‘Kyrie!’ she said. ‘It’s incredible.’

  Kyrie shrugged. ‘It does have a certain charm to it, I admit. But I must say it isn’t the greatest place I have seen. Still, it is rather lovely.’

  Greta didn’t argue. After all, Kyrie must have seen many marvelous sights whereas her own experience was rather more limited.

  They walked a long time in the cloudy land, feet and ankles slightly damp from the mist. Greta was in awe of the landscape but Kyrie strode on with firm concentration. As they went past the village of swallows and swifts, Greta remembered that she had been taught at school that these birds rarely touch the ground. But now she learnt that the reason we never see them walking around in our world is because they did all their resting here, in Cloud-Top Land.

  Further along the route they came to the villages of seabirds, who retired here when the days and weeks and months of skimming over the sea forced them to seek a few days of rest in the Cloud-Top towns. Everyone greeted Kyrie and Greta with welcoming respect, something that surprised Greta a little. Not because she was shocked that fellow creatures would respect Kyrie, just that she had never imagined that cats would receive a warm reception from birds. Yet, everywhere they went, whoever they met, they would rush down to greet Kyrie, offer the travelers a drink or something to eat – offers which they always accepted. In this way, Greta met the gannets and albatrosses, shared dinner with a family of swallows and a commune of swifts, discussed geo-politics with a debating team of razorbills and terns, and had conversations about the problem of melting icecaps with almost every type of migrating bird she had heard of (and a few she hadn’t).