Tui snorts. “A dream? Really? That’s just your subconscious fear taking over. Forget all about it. I don’t want to run into any of those buggers either, but I know we’ll be fine.”
“How do you know?” I look at him with piercing eyes. I won’t let him get away with not answering.
“I don’t,” he says, after a long pause. He pushes his empty bowl away, sits back in his chair, and folds his arms. “I just have to believe we will.”
That’s not enough for me, but what can I do? It’s two against one here.
“Fine,” I finally say. “Let’s get on with it.”
Chapter 6
Even though I don’t like the direction we’re going in, I’m relieved to be riding out of Alderwood. Was everyone really so suspicious of us, or was it just my imagination? I hope it won’t be like this every place we stop. We need to blend in, unnoticed. Avoid questions. As much as I’m not looking forward to a possible bearcat encounter, at least we won’t have to deal with any humans until we get to Blackpool on the other side.
We ride south for a few hours, and eventually the cut in the mountains to the west comes into view. On the other side lies bearcat country. We turn the horses and stop, looking into the gap. It’s very dark.
“Catriona—how far across is it, exactly? Do you know?” I ask.
“About a hundred miles, give or take. It should take us only three or four days if we keep up a good pace, twenty-five miles a day or so. That will be pushing our horses, and us, but we can do it.”
I sigh. Four days in the bearcat lands. I can do this. I think. My legs start to shake with nerves.
I notice Tui has slung his bow and quiver of arrows across his back, ready. Normally he secures them with his other gear. My hand drifts down to rest on the handle of my knife.
We start on the trail toward the pass. Gradually the mountains swallow us up, pinching the sky between them. Each step brings us farther into the darkness. Silently we encourage our horses to pick up the pace.
Once we’re through, a solid wall of enormous trees stand before us with only a narrow trail leading through them. We follow this into the dense forest. The tree trunks are at least three feet across and they tower straight up to the sky, so close we brush against them as we pass by.
The sky is completely smothered by the treetops, and it’s as dark as twilight. I crane my neck and see only tiny bits of blue, so small they are like stars.
It’s creepier than I imagined.
“Is it like this the whole way?” I whisper.
“Pretty much,” Catriona answers, her voice low.
We’re riding silently, as quickly as we can. We only stop once, sometime in the early afternoon, to stretch our legs and have a bite to eat.
When the pinpricks of sky fade to black, we know it’s evening and stop at a tiny clearing to camp.
“Should we make a fire?” Tui asks. “It sure is getting cold.”
“But won’t that give us away to the bearcats?” I ask.
Catriona shakes her head. “They already know we’re here. They know about everything and everyone that passes through. We might never see them, but they’re probably watching us right now.”
Her news sends a violent shiver down my spine. Still, I’m relieved we can make a fire and enjoy the light and warmth it will provide, at least for a few hours.
Tui and I gather wood while Catriona gets our fire going. As the temperature drops we huddle around the small flames trying to keep warm. Tui puts together a soup of sorts by throwing some dried meat and vegetables into a pot of water nestled at the edge of the fire.
Half an hour later, we dish out the concoction into our bowls, scooping it up with pieces of hard bread. It’s pretty awful, but nobody seems to care.
The light of our fire feels like a protective bubble, though I know it’s not. I can’t see beyond the dim glow; I’m pretending there's nothing out there. I can’t help thinking about what Catriona said, that we’re likely being watched right now.
“I feel like I have eyes on my back,” I say.
“Me too,” Tui says. “I’ve felt like that the entire time we’ve been in these woods.”
I reach into my jacket pocket, where I’ve tucked away the honey candy I bought in Alderwood. “Here, maybe this will help,” I say, holding up the packet. I grab a couple of pieces and toss the rest to Tui. He catches it smoothly and pops a piece into his mouth.
“Yeah, this helps,” he says, through a mouthful of sticky candy.
Catriona is looking around into the surrounding darkness. I notice her sniffing the air. “Yes, they’re out there. Hopefully they’re just keeping us under watch. There’s not much we can do other than keep on. Now, toss me that candy.”
When we’re done eating, we wipe our dishes and put them away, then grab our bedrolls and settle in around the fire. If we survive this night, we’ve only got two more to get through.
But the night seems to crawl by. I’m startled awake every few minutes it seems, by an unfamiliar noise. There’s no moonlight so I can’t tell how late or early it is. There are odd sounds in the tree branches above: scurrying noises, calls of strange night birds. There’s another sound. I lift my head up to listen more closely. A sort of agonized howl, far in the distance. I instinctively reach for my knife. The feel of its smooth handle comforts me. I fall asleep again with my hand wrapped around it. Ready.
I’m groggy the next morning. I catch Tui yawning right before he takes another gulp of his strong coffee. “Didn’t sleep much either?” I say.
“No, not at all. I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep for the next two days. Every little sound woke me up.”
I take another sip of my own muddy coffee. “It’s awful in this forest. I think I’m more exhausted than I was before we slept last night.”
“I have an idea,” Catriona says. She’s still trying to open her eyes fully, hands wrapped around her coffee cup. “It probably won’t make us any safer out here, but if we take turns keeping a lookout at night, at least the other two of us should be able to get some sleep. We’ve got to get enough rest. To stay on our toes.”
It’s a good idea, and she’s right about us needing rest. Tui and I agree to give it a try tonight.
Despite our exhaustion, we move as quickly as we can through the woods. It’s even more miserable given the weather.
Clouds have moved in and we’re traveling through thick fog. I didn’t think I’d be needing my woolen cloak this soon, but even with it I’m shivering. The dampness seems to soak right through.
The trail is still narrow. Catriona leads and I follow, with Tui bringing up the rear. I have to strain my eyes to make out Hazel’s back through the dark mist.
We keep up our pace, despite our discomfort. Even the horses want to press on as fast as they can. At least they’re far less likely to overheat in this chill.
I’m thankful that the time seems to pass quickly in my cold and groggy state. We stop briefly for lunch and continue on until the little light there is begins to fade. We stop at a clear spot to prepare for our second night in this dank wood.
I’m just getting the fire going when there is a hideous screeching noise. I stand up, looking around frantically, trying to make out where it’s coming from. The screaming is so loud it feels like it’s coming from inside my head. My heart is racing, trying to leap out of my throat. We stand, huddled, covering our ears in a futile attempt to block out the terrible screams.
Then I see the dark shape coming at us from the treetops, getting closer and closer. We duck as an enormous black creature swoops down over our heads. Then, just as suddenly, it departs. I can only stare as it flaps its giant wings and heads back into the treetops. It leaves behind a trail of stale, musty wind.
“What was that?” Tui says, his voice shaking.
I can’t find any words. My heart is still thudding in my chest. I’m gasping for air.
Catriona seems hardly ruffled. “That, my friends, is a wildegaard.”
“Okay,” I finally choke out. “What is a wildegaard?”
“A warning,” she says.
“What kind of warning?” Tui says impatiently.
Catriona smiles. I can’t believe she’s not terrified. “Bearcat pets, essentially. They send the birds out to warn passersby to keep moving, keep on the trail.”
Tui shrugs. “Well, they sure don’t have to worry about us. I don’t intend to stray and I do intend to get out of here as fast as I can.”
“I guess they know for sure we’re here,” I say. “The birds don’t patrol alone, do they?”
“They don’t,” Catriona says. “But we needn’t worry about them. They won’t bother us if we don’t bother them. Let’s get that fire going.”
But once we do, we’re all too tired to cook anything, and settle for bread and cheese. We put on a pot of water to boil for tea, and huddle around our small fire, trying to warm ourselves.
We plan the watches we’ll take through the night and agree on three hours each. Shortly after we finish our mugs of tea, Catriona and I settle into our bedrolls. Tui keeps the first watch. Catriona will take the second, giving me six glorious hours of what I hope will be uninterrupted sleep.
It works. After I’ve tucked myself into my wool bag and pulled the edge up over my face, I can feel sleep coming on quickly. I sleep all six hours dreamlessly.
It’s the dead of night when Catriona nudges me awake. “Your turn,” she whispers. “It’s been pretty quiet. Enjoy the sunrise … ha!” We both know there won’t be any kind of sunrise in here; only the gloomy light that creeps in among the trees at daybreak.
I sit up on my bedroll and stoke the small fire that Tui and Catriona have kept going. It is quiet. I turn my head in different directions, trying to pick up any sound. But all I hear is the crackling of our low-burning fire.
I’m not quite as nervous now. After this night is over, there's only one left. We’ll arrive in Blackpool the day after tomorrow. We’re over halfway through this place.
I’m watching my friends sleep, and realize I haven’t had a moment to myself like this in days. A moment to sit in silence and just think. My life—my world—has been turned upside down ever since that party at Greenhollow, when I learned my secret wasn’t safe anymore. I’ve tried not to think about the arduous journey ahead, taking it one step at a time. But tonight I think of the long way I have to go, the boat journey, my new life on Nuimana. It’s just too much, and my head starts to spin. So I stop. I think only of surviving the next few hours. It’s all I can do.
There are a few distant rustling sounds, but my night watch passes uneventfully. Still, I’m hugely relieved when I can make out the massive tree trunks and arching branches overhead once again. The sun is up. Before I wake Catriona and Tui, I put our pot on the fire to heat water for coffee.
When it’s ready, I pour a cup for Tui and gently tap him on the shoulder. He bolts upright, nearly sending the boiling hot coffee flying.
“What’s wrong?” he says. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” His eyes are wide and he’s looking around frantically.
“Tui, everything is fine. It’s just morning.”
“Oh, er, yeah, I guess it is.” He shakes his head as if to clear it, and rubs his eyes. “Sorry about that. I was sleeping so well I just … I thought something was wrong.”
I pass him his coffee. “Drink this. It'll wake you.”
The commotion awakens Catriona, and I pour her a cup too.
We’re all well-rested, but still anxious to finish our journey through these woods. After a quick breakfast we’re back on the trail. Thankfully it’s not as misty as yesterday. Every once in a while I can see a tiny sliver of blue sky way up through the treetops. I feel better today, knowing we’re nearly out of this miserable place.
The sound of the wildegaards follows us all day long, but they don’t swoop down. I assume they’re just keeping tabs on us, making sure we’re heading straight for the exit. I can’t imagine why anyone would do otherwise.
We keep the horses moving faster than ever. The path is a slim ribbon of auburn winding through an ocean of dark-green ferns. But the way through the towering trees is clear—evidence that anybody who passes through here wouldn’t dare leave the path.
With our third day of travel at an end, we find a place to make our final camp and build a fire. Sipping tea, each of us feels more relaxed tonight.
“Mmmm … this stew is so delicious I think I’m going to send my mum the recipe,” Tui says, taking a huge spoonful and grimacing. Catriona and I laugh. We’ve thrown ingredients into a pot of boiling water, and the resulting “stew” is only just edible.
“Thank goodness we’ll have a proper dinner tomorrow in Blackpool,” I say.
Catriona smirks. “Don’t get your hopes up. Blackpool is far from an epicurean paradise. Actually, that’s the first time I think ‘Blackpool’ and ‘paradise’ have been used in the same sentence.”
“What’s it like?” I ask, then immediately realize I don’t really want to know the answer.
“I’ll just say it’s rough. We won’t want to spend a lot of time there, and we definitely won’t want to be out at night.”
“That’s fine—I’m happy to keep going,” I say, and Tui nods in agreement.
Tui again takes the first watch, followed by Catriona. I sleep soundly for hours.
Until I hear someone screaming my name. “Raven! RAVEEEEN!”
It’s Catriona’s voice. Tui’s yelling something too. But their voices are growing farther and farther away. What’s happening? Then I realize that what’s moving is me. Something has got hold of me and is tearing through the forest. Then the only screaming is mine.
“Quiet!” a terrible voice says, the words followed by a throaty snarl.
A bearcat.
Wait. Maybe I’m dreaming, just like the other night. Is this really happening?
“Where are you taking me?” I try to sound fierce, but my question comes out as a shaky whisper.
There’s no response.
The bearcat is running so fast the wind makes my eyes water. I nearly retch from the smell of rotten meat. I look up and can make out piercing fangs in the mouth panting just above my head.
Clearly I’m not dreaming.
The beast has me in its arms, cradling me like a baby. I reach down to my belt. My knife isn’t there. It had been loose in my bedroll, and is still lying next to our fire. Next to Tui and Catriona, who are probably wondering if they’ll ever see me again.
“What are you going to do with me?” I ask.
It doesn’t reply.
We suddenly slow down. I crane my neck and see a soft light ahead. As we get closer, I realize it’s a cave. The bearcats’ den.
That’s when I start to shake. My teeth chatter and my forehead breaks out in a cold sweat. This is it. The end.
Inside the cave, the creature carries me toward a throng of waiting bearcats. They step aside to let us through. He sets me gently down next to the roaring fire, and I promptly topple over. There’s no way I can stand. I pull myself up onto a nearby rock and grip it with my shaking fingers.
Flames send flickering shadows over the bearcats crowding around. There must be dozens of them. They are all shades of golden fur, thickly striped. Each has an enormous furry mane and giant muscular body. I won’t be much of a dinner for them.
One of the largest walks over to me. The others bow their heads as he passes. He must be a leader of some sort. He considers me for a minute, then speaks.
“Are you … Your Highness Princess Araroa?”
My heart skips several beats. This is the last question I expected to be asked, here. I can only stand, staring and trembling.
I’m completely unsure of how to answer. Either answer could be wrong—deadly wrong. If bearcats are loyal to the King, they will certainly kill me at once if I say I am. But I also know that there are many in our kingdom who would be more than happy to be rid of one of the mo
st malevolent rulers in the past thousand years—my father, who surely wants me dead.
All at once, I don’t believe the end of my journey has come. Not yet.
I stand up. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
All around me the bearcats kneel on one knee. I watch in disbelief as each furry head bows. The soft murmurs that filled the cavernous space a moment ago fall silent.
“Are you going to kill me?” I ask the beast in front of me. He is still upright, but his head is bowed, in reverence.
“M’lady,” he says, before lifting his head slowly to look at me. “Most assuredly not. We’ve been waiting for you for a very long time. My name is Cecil. I welcome you to my tribe.” His voice is deep and smooth.
I stare at the creature for a full minute. His fur is luminous in the firelight. There’s a huge chunk missing from his right ear, probably lost in a past battle. Looking into the bearcat’s eyes, I see they are soft and kindly.
“Come, m’lady. Let us sit by the fire,” Cecil says. “I think I have some information you can use.”
I settle myself back onto the rock and the giant creature continues. “Firstly, I do not wish to know where you are going. There are people who have the means to get information out of anyone—even us. If I don’t have it, then your secrets will remain safe. But I assume you will be going through Blackpool?”
“Yes, that’s right,” I say. My heart is quickly speeding up. I can tell the bearcat doesn’t have good news for me.
“Please, be careful there. The King’s men—Hunters—came through here not long ago. We had no news for them, but they inadvertently gave us much valuable information in the asking. Not least of which was your existence.”
“What did they tell you about me?” I ask.
The big cat isn’t truly capable of smiling, but his eyes twinkle as he speaks. “Before I get to that, I must start at the beginning.”
I nod, encouraging him to go on.
“We were exiled to these woods hundreds of years ago, during the reign of King Katan. You see, we are nomadic cats. For thousands of years we roamed the kingdom, moving each year. We never ran out of food this way. And the animals we took would repopulate quickly after we moved on. Despite our reputation, we are not violent creatures. Even today we would prefer to live peaceably among all others, including humans.
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