Charro called for Kiri to come back. He sent Tae and Akash after her, but Kiri kept running. No one knew this area as well as she did. She took all the quick cuts she could through the swamp. The fugees, armed with machetes and a gun, were sure to cross the fence and hunt the panther. They’d hunt her da, too, if they found him. She had to warn him.
Dizziness swarmed her body. She stumbled, feeling delirious, but she couldn’t rest. Not now. Snowflake clung to her collar, chittering to her every time she slowed.
Kiri shouted for her da as she neared the stilt house, but there was no response. Ducking inside, she saw that the waller rifle and his pack were gone. Why wasn’t he here? He must still be out in the field somewhere. All he cared about was catching the panther.
She checked the vid screen set up in the kitchen. At first she saw only trees, grass, and vines on the screen. Then, in one vid square, she spotted Charro and Senek making their way through a stretch of tall grass.
Kiri recognized the field. It stood between the ghost forest and the swamp, on this side of the fence. Fear coiled in her chest, tightening like a python with every breath. They weren’t that far from the house. She grabbed a water bottle and some energy powder, along with a handful of palm nuts, which she dropped into her hood for Snowflake.
The rat poked his head up and sniffed. After a day of commotion, he probably wanted to curl up in the loft and sleep.
“It’s not safe here, Snowflake,” Kiri said. “Not anymore. We have to leave.”
She scratched behind his ears to comfort him until he ducked back into her hood. Then she gave the house one last look, not sure if she’d ever be able to return.
Once outside, Kiri considered shouting for her da. Then she thought better of it. Who knew how many fugees had crossed the fence by now? If any heard her, they’d come running. Her hand went to the worn handle of her mother’s knife hanging from her belt. “Help me find him,” she whispered.
It was almost sunset. That’s when predators like the panther usually ventured out to hunt. Her da had probably gone to observe the trap she’d set off the other day. He’d find a high spot where he could keep watch from a distance. There weren’t many hills in the area, but there were some ruins that still had three or four floors aboveground.
It took Kiri almost an hour to reach the ruins because she had to take the long way around to avoid Charro and the others. And because her legs felt jittery and weak. Something was wrong with her, but she couldn’t dwell on that. She needed to stay focused on finding her da before the fugees did.
At last, she spotted her da high up in a live oak tree, adjusting a vid eye.
“They’re coming!” she said.
Martin climbed down immediately. “What are you doing here, Kiribati? You’re supposed to be in bed. You need to rest.”
“They shot one of the boxes and crossed,” said Kiri. “I saw them on the vid screen.”
“Where?”
Kiri told him about spotting Charro and the others in the field on this side of the fence. She told him about Charro’s long gun, too.
“You okay?” asked her da.
She nodded and said she was fine, but that didn’t stop Martin from feeling her forehead and fussing over her. Then his gaze flicked to the knife at her belt. She hadn’t realized she was still holding it.
“That knife…let me see it.”
Kiri held the knife up, reluctant to let it go.
Martin studied the fish and other designs etched into the metal blade. “This was your mother’s knife. How’d you get this?”
She gave it to me, thought Kiri, but she couldn’t say that out loud. Rationally, she knew her dead mother couldn’t have given her the knife. The Witch Woman must have stitched the sheath to her belt while she’d slept. Nevertheless, the vision she’d had of her mother felt true. Her ma was looking out for her—the knife seemed proof of that. “It was a gift,” said Kiri, sliding the knife back into the sheath.
Martin looked like he was about to question her further, but a beeping sound interrupted him. He pulled his vid pad from his pocket and checked the message on the screen. “Trap one’s been triggered.”
“By what?”
“I’m not sure.” He continued studying the small screen.
“Did someone steal the meat?” she asked, wondering if Paulo had crossed back as well. Maybe he’d gone to the trap to get a taste of the meat.
“No. It’s the panther. We caught it!”
Her da grabbed his pack and set off for the trap. “We’re lucky, Kiribati. Things might work out after all.”
They slowed as they neared the trap, approaching from the downwind side. The wire door had snapped shut and a small red light on top blinked, but all Kiri saw inside were leaves, grass, and shadows. The meat was gone, only the hanging strap remained. Then a shadow among the leaves moved.
The Shadow That Hunts.
The panther raised her head and stared at them. Kiri held her gaze, but the panther’s fiery green eyes weren’t welcoming now. The creature in the cage bared her teeth and made a high hissing sound—her tan-colored ears pressed flat against her skull in a threatening posture. Snowflake shivered in Kiri’s hood.
Martin signaled for Kiri to stay back. Suddenly the panther leapt at him. She hit the side of the cage and was thrown back to the ground by the wires and bars, but the panther didn’t stop. Quick as a blink, she rolled to her paws and threw herself against the mesh walls again and again. The cage still didn’t give. After the fourth or fifth attempt, the panther slumped to the ground, eyelids drooping. She hissed at Martin, but she sounded weaker this time. One side of her mouth sagged.
“What’s wrong with her?” asked Kiri.
“I put a tranquilizer in the meat in case the trap malfunctioned again.”
So that’s what her da thought had happened the other day.
“What a specimen!” continued her da. “I can’t believe it.” He unslung his pack and dug in the front pocket, pulling out a plastic bag with an old waller book in it. Then he flipped through the book, tearing a couple of pages in his haste, until he got to the entry he sought. He looked up, comparing the panther to the description in the book. “It really is Puma concolor,” he said. “These haven’t been seen in decades. I thought I’d imagined the prints, or someone had released a hybrid. But it has to be Puma concolor…”
He kept muttering to himself as he crept forward, talking about how the panther appeared to be female and starving—that’s why it had gone after the meat. It still looked healthy, if a bit on the thin side.
The panther closed her eyes and panted heavily.
Seeing her in the cage made Kiri feel gutted and empty. By trapping and drugging the panther, her da had taken a wild, awe-inspiring creature and turned it into something small and angry. A panther in a cage was no more a panther than water in a bucket was the ocean.
“The satphone!” said Martin. “I left it at the house to charge. It’s the only way to contact my patrons.”
Kiri slumped against a tree, careful not to squish Snowflake. The little rat clambered onto her good shoulder and groomed the hair by her ear, but she paid him no mind. How could her da do this? Why was he so fixated on calling the wallers and trading the panther?
“Kiribati, are you listening?” he asked. “I need to leave you for a little bit.”
She shook her head, unable to shake the sense that she was missing something important.
“Stay here. I’ll run back to the house to get the satphone,” said her da.
“Why?”
“To contact my patrons.”
What about me? she wanted to say, but she didn’t. All he cared about was trading the panther.
“Rest until I return,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere. And don’t step near that trap. Even if the panther looks asleep, it’s still incredibly dangerous. Understand?”
“No,” said Kiri. The sense that she was missing something important kept nagging at her.
“I have
to get the satphone, Kiribati. You just need to be strong a little longer, and then you’ll get better. I promise.”
“Better?” she whispered the word, but she couldn’t make it fit with what was going on. How would getting the satphone make her better? If her da had the phone, he’d call the wallers and they’d take the panther away. She shivered, despite how hot she felt.
Martin knelt beside her and pressed his hand to her forehead like he used to do when she was little and not feeling well. With his touch, cool against her sweating skin, she suddenly saw the truth.
“I’m sick, aren’t I?” she said. “And not just a little sick. It’s the fever Charro talked about. The scratch got infected and now I’m going to die. Like Ma died.”
Her da winced. For a split second he looked lost, then his expression hardened. “You’re not going to die. Once I have the satphone I can get you medicine that will make you better.”
“That’s what you were looking for in the tridrone,” continued Kiri, piecing together the other things that hadn’t made sense before. “You asked the wallers to send medicine because the scratch looked bad. But they didn’t.”
“They will now,” said her da. “For the panther, they’ll take you in and treat you. I’ll make sure of it.”
For the panther, thought Kiri. Her da wanted to trade the panther to save her life.
“What about the fugees?” she asked.
Her da glanced around, as if he thought they might be close. Then his gaze settled on the vid eye he’d placed in a nearby tree. He climbed the tree and tore the cube off the branch.
“There,” he said. “Now, even if the fugees get into our house, they won’t know you’re here. Or the panther. They won’t find either of you. Just be brave a little longer while I get the satphone.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I won’t lose you, Kiribati. You mean more than the world to me, and I’m not going to let what happened to your mother happen to you. I swear it.”
Kiri closed her eyes, letting his words sink in. Her mother had been sick like this, too, and the wallers could have saved her, but they didn’t. So Charro blamed her da for Laria’s death. If only her da had persuaded the wallers to give her ma medicine, she’d still be alive. No wonder her da was so obsessed with catching the panther. He needed something big—something the wallers would be willing to trade a lot for—to save her.
But what about the cubs? thought Kiri. If the wallers take the panther, what will happen to the cubs? Without a mother, they’ll die.
Kiri suddenly remembered that her da didn’t know about the cubs. He thought there was only one panther at stake. Not four. She opened her eyes and started to tell him, but he was gone. There was just his pack, sitting by the tree where she lay. She called for him, only it did no good. Her voice sounded weak and he must have already been too far away to hear.
You have to give something to get something, she thought. That’s how it works with wallers. So how much would she give to save herself?
Not the panthers. She couldn’t let him sacrifice the mother and the cubs like that. There had to be another way.
Kiri’s thoughts blurred and melted into each other as she lay against the tree, waiting for her da to return. One second she was thinking of fishing with Paulo. Another, she was picturing the panther in the cage. Then she heard her mother singing. Then her da was telling her stories about the once-were creatures while the cubs played with her. Everything began to crash and swirl together like waves in a bad storm.
Kiri’s head spun when she closed her eyes, so she tried to keep them open, but she was so exhausted it was hard to stay awake. She needed to focus on something. Reaching over to her father’s pack, she pulled out his waller guidebook. It opened to the entry on the panther he’d referenced. The sun had set and it was getting dark. She could barely see the letters on the page.
“ ‘Puma concolor,’ ” read Kiri, sounding out the name written beneath the picture of the panther. “Is that who you are?”
She looked at the shadow in the cage. The panther lay on her side, panting, her tongue lolling out. Her eyes were half-open, but she didn’t move.
Kiri crawled closer, taking the book with her, and sat near the cage. Snowflake sniffed, clearly disapproving, but he didn’t leave her side. He curled up in her lap and groomed himself while she struggled to read more of the description.
There were several other names for the panther in the book. Mountain lion. Cougar. Catamount. Florida panther. Ghost cat. Yet none of the names seemed to fit the creature before her. Not entirely.
The description seemed right, though. Six to seven feet long. Tan coat. Black-tipped ears. Yellow-green eyes. Cubs were described as having spotted fur and blue eyes at birth, which also fit.
In the book, the panther was listed as “critically endangered.”
Information on how the panther lived and what it ate followed the description, but the words felt flat and irrelevant to Kiri. They didn’t explain why the creature in the cage called to her so powerfully, or what it had to do with her mother. And they didn’t explain why it had accepted her and let her play with its cubs. Or why its scratch was killing her now.
“Who are you?” whispered Kiri, leaning toward the cage.
Snowflake stirred and climbed onto Kiri’s shoulder. The little rat tugged her hair, as if trying to pull her back. He trembled and chittered, then burrowed into her hood.
Good idea, thought Kiri. Keep your distance.
Even as she thought this, she continued to lean closer to the cage.
The panther mother blinked, watching Kiri through slit eyes. She seemed awake, but barely. Kiri understood. She felt the same way—not awake, but not able to sleep either. Caught in a between place.
The panther took three deep breaths and Kiri matched them, syncing her breathing to the panther’s. She pictured herself the way the panther must see her—not just her tousled appearance, but her soap-scented hair and salty, feverish skin.
Reaching through the wires of the cage, she touched the panther’s shoulder. The panther didn’t move. Her fur felt surprisingly soft. Kiri sensed the muscle underneath, radiating heat and power. It sent a shiver through her. She imagined feeling a hand on her own shoulder as she stroked the panther’s fur—the warm hand of her mother, comforting her. Giving her strength.
The panther closed her eyes, appearing to relax and give in to the tranquilizers. As she did, Kiri closed her eyes too. The warm touch of her mother’s hand stayed on her shoulder.
“Wake up, Cricket!” called her mother. “You need to wake up!”
Kiri stirred, but she didn’t see her ma anywhere. She must have been imagining her. What did it mean when ghosts called you? she thought.
The sky looked dark and the constellations seemed strange, as if the seasons had changed while she’d been asleep. The land around her appeared horribly empty. No trees. No life. Nothing familiar. Thunder rumbled, signaling the approach of a storm, and stars began to streak across the sky. They spun faster and faster, becoming swirling lines of light until the sky melted into a bright white funnel cloud that clawed at her.
She opened her mouth to scream, and woke again.
The sky was still dark, but the stars looked familiar now. It was late. Several hours had passed since she’d fallen asleep. Where was her da? He should have returned by now.
Kiri felt a rough tongue on her cheek, followed by an urgent nudge. Snowflake pushed his nose against her jaw, trying to wake her.
“It’s okay, Snowflake,” she muttered, but he didn’t stop nudging her. Get up! he seemed to say. You have to get up! The thunder she’d heard in her nightmare rumbled again, louder this time.
She turned her head to the side and saw two green eyes shining in the moonlight beside her. The panther was standing and growling.
A jolt of fear surged through Kiri. She scrambled back, scooping Snowflake into her arms. He trembled and tried to burrow into her armpit. All her senses focused on the panther crouched
in the cage, inches from where she’d been lying.
The panther’s fiery green eyes glinted in the moonlight, and her ears lay flat against her head in a threatening posture. The tranquilizers in the meat must have worn off. With every breath the panther seemed to become more awake, and she was angry.
“Shhh…,” said Kiri. “I’m your friend, remember?” She reached a hand out toward the cage, hoping to calm the panther.
The shadow within snarled and lunged, slamming into the walls of the cage.
Kiri jerked her hand back. Her heart pounded, pushing fear through her veins.
The panther growled again, all coiled muscle and bristling wildness seeking release. Kiri’s neck prickled. Each growl reverberated deep in her chest, rattling her bones with the uncontainable rage of a mother separated from her cubs.
Fear lashed through Kiri, strong as a hurricane ripping her thoughts away. The devi marks on her shoulder and cheek burned, and her pulse raced. Still, she refused to back away from the growling panther. Then a curious thing happened. Her fear broke apart and she discovered a deeper calm beyond fear.
Sometimes, in the middle of a storm, the sky would clear and the wind would quiet for a short while before it picked up again. Her da called it the eye of the hurricane. Kiri felt as if she were in that eye now. Her breathing deepened. Her pulse slowed. And when she looked at the panther, she finally saw it clearly. It wasn’t just one creature, but many. It was all the panthers that had come before it, and all that might come after.
Puma concolor. Catamount. Ghost cat. Mountain lion. Florida panther. The Shadow That Hunts. The creature she saw was all of these and more. It was the spirit of wildness itself. And if it stayed in this cage, that spirit would be torn out, and the forest would unravel.
In that moment, Kiri understood several things at once. She knew her da should have returned hours ago. Something had gone wrong—he might have been caught by the fugees, or injured. Eventually the fugees would come looking for her, and when they did, they’d find the panther and kill it. She couldn’t let that happen.
The Last Panther Page 9