Have Tail, Will Travel

by Nancey Cummings

A grin cracked across Merit’s face. “Go meet your mate before I decide the toilets need a scrubbing.”

  Sigald’s laugh rang down the hall before finally vanishing.

  Merit sat on the edge of the desk, his tail beating against his leg. “You should be on the payroll,” he said.

  “I can’t work for you. It’s a conflict of interest,” Kal said.

  “You can’t not work for me. I need you too much. This place has never been so organized.”

  “You can’t hire your wife, Merit. I’m just helping you since you’re in a bind.” Seriously. He couldn’t—it smacked of nepotism.

  He leaned down, fingers under her chin drawing her face closer to his. “You’re overqualified for this clerical work. If you don’t want to stare at my ugly mug all day and all night, I’ll back off, but I won’t accept a weak ‘what will people think’ as an excuse. Understood?”

  “I like your ugly mug,” she said, patting him on the cheek. She also liked the idea of regular work to structure the hours while the kits were at school. She really liked the idea of quickies at lunch. It complemented her office fantasies about a demanding boss and a naughty accountant. She decided to keep that to herself for the moment. “Come on, we can’t be late or Sigald will pump the kits full of sugar.”

  His tail danced, brushing against the papers on the desk. “Is that a yes? I’ll overlook the part where you say I’m ugly because we all know that’s not true and you’re above lying.”

  “Yes. Now take me to the fair.”

  Merit

  Crowds made Merit nervous. Anyone without empathy and a bit of malicious intent could tear through the crowd and do a huge amount of damage with a very small explosive device.

  Part of his brain knew the reaction was a holdover from the war and not entirely based on reality. On Corra, a large amount of body heat and noise posed more of a problem than possible acts of terrorism. Another part of his brain knew that if every male, female, and kit in Drac’s small population came out, they would never be a truly large crowd.

  Still, he had no love lost for crowds.

  He scanned the crowd, searching for blue and gray Hunter uniforms. The Hunters always provided security for large public gatherings.

  The entire town came out for Unification Day, claiming the crescent-shaped area at the entrance to the Crystal Caverns for the afternoon and evening’s entertainment. A stage sat to the left of the cavern entrance, empty for the time being. A few food stalls offered refreshment, mostly sugary treats. Families sat on blankets on the lawn, passing the afternoon with picnics. Children chased balls and shouted with glee.

  At dusk, musicians would perform, and the folks would get up to dance. The mayor of Drac would say a few words before the fireworks commenced. All in all, a good day.

  Kal clapped her hands. “This is wonderful! Can we get candy floss? Do you have candy floss? It’s fluffy, spun sugar.”

  “I’m sure we can find something like that.”

  “And some sort of meat on a stick!” Kal rubbed her hands together. “Fair food is the best and the greasiest.”

  “You’ll regret it tomorrow,” he said cautiously.

  “But I’ll enjoy it today. Live a little, Old Man Isteimlas.”

  He grinned. They waded deeper into the crowd. Every flash of color drew her attention. He couldn’t wait to show her the caverns and let a genuine natural wonder impress her.

  “When did you start calling me that? I’m only a few years older than you,” he said.

  “I think Dare christened you last week when you wouldn’t let him stay up late,” she said.

  “Petulant child.”

  “Spoken like a true old man,” she said with a grin.

  Merit spotted Sigald’s blue form in the crowd and headed in that direction. They met at the entrance to the cavern.

  “Uncle Merit!” Clarity ran up to him, face smeared with caramel. She held a candied apple in one hand, waving it very close to her mane. “Can we go into the Crystal Caverns? Can we?”

  “What’s the Crystal Cavern?” Kal asked.

  “A natural wonder. Large quartz crystals hang from the ceiling. The light is astounding,” he said.

  Kal’s eyes went wide. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to see it.”

  “A group from school is going to do a tour soon. Can we go?” Clarity pointed to a cluster of kits her own age and a pair of harried looking adults.

  Merit tossed a look to Sigald. The male seemed more preoccupied with his mate than monitoring the crowds. “I had hoped to show you them, myself, but I have to check with the Hunters on duty first,” he said.

  Clarity moaned loudly. “I wanted to add a crystal to my rock collection.”

  Kal looked from the disappointment on Clarity’s face to the disappointment on his. “How about Dare and Clarity go with the school group? I’ll find a spot to set this up,” she said, taking the cricket gear from Merit. “You can take me on a private tour when you’re ready.”

  “I like that.” He lifted her chin with a finger and took a kiss. Dare and Clarity made gagging noises. “And no taking a crystal unless it’s on the ground, already detached. Don’t break any crystals.”

  Kalini

  Kal loved a funfair, although the gathering was more a community picnic than a fair. She remembered summer holidays spent at the seaside, spending her allowance on games and sweets. Her mother had little patience for games like ring toss or throwing a ball at a stack of bottles, claiming they were all rigged. Probably. Her father, though, loved the fun fair. They spent hours winning games and collecting tickets, only to turn them in at the end of the day for a cheap plastic prize.

  She loved it. Every shoddy, overpriced, rigged aspect of it.

  Sigald and Belith joined the school tour, promising to stay a discreet distance away from the kits so as not to embarrass them. On her own, Kal shouldered the cricket set and headed for a spot near the shade.

  Birn trotted up. He held two shaved ice treats and extended one for her. “There you are. Merit said I should shadow you.”

  “Usually that means you follow me at a distance. Unawares.” Kal took the pink frozen treat and he took the sports equipment.

  Birn shrugged a shoulder. “He didn’t say anything about distance, just said to follow you. I can follow you from a short distance.”

  They found a spot under a tree with wide branches. Kal spread out the blanket and relaxed with her back against the tree, content to people watch. She recognized a few faces in the crowd, people from the farmer’s market and general store.

  Curious, Birn peered into the equipment bag. He withdrew a cricket bat. “What is this? A primitive Earth weapon?”

  “It’s a bat,” she said.

  He blinked, not understanding.

  “For a game. You must use it to hit a ball.” Clarity insisted that they bring the cricket set. She wanted to show her school friends the odd human game she learned.

  “To establish dominance?” he asked.

  “For fun,” she clarified. She fished out a ball and demonstrated, tossing it into the air and giving it a resounding whack. The ball whizzed off across the lawn. “Don’t just sit there. Please retrieve the ball,” she said.

  He raced there and back in a heartbeat, tossing the ball at her feet. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. “This is fun. Do it again.”

  Kal complied, this time minding her stance and putting some effort into her swing. Her father would moan that she failed to respect the game and centuries of tradition.

  Sorry, Dad.

  Hunters approached, introducing their mates and children. Everyone was exceedingly polite, but Kal felt a bit uncomfortable being the center of attention. Funny how when she walked through the city where she had been born, no one ever noticed her or stopped to chat. She felt more welcomed here than she ever had.

  “I don’t know why everyone seems so interested in me. I’m really quite dull,” she said. “Is it because I’m human?”

  “Nah.
It’s because you make the boss smile,” Birn said between mouthfuls of shaved ice, lips stained pink.

  “He’s not that bad,” she said, eliciting a snicker from Birn. “He’s not. He’s a kitten underneath.”

  The snicker grew into a guffaw. “That’s precious. I’d love to tell the boss that he’s just a massive kitten but I like being alive too much.”

  “Kalini!” A familiar child’s voice snagged her attention.

  Dare weaved his way through the blankets and seated figures.

  Kal knew instantly something was wrong. Perhaps Dare’s body language or the urgency in his stride, but her normally calm little man was upset.

  And alone.

  “Where’s Clarity?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kalini

  “What do you mean?” Kal looked past Dare to Sigald and Belith for an explanation.

  Both of their blue faces were pale. Far too pale.

  “What’s happened?” Her hand gripped the cricket bat, needing the touch of something comfortable and familiar.

  “Apologies,” Sigald said. “She slipped our attention. We had hoped that she simply grew bored and went to find you.”

  “She didn’t like the cave,” Dare said. “She wanted to come back from the start.”

  “You lost her.” Kal looked from Sigald to Belith for an explanation. “How could two adults lose a child?”

  “There are several paths in the cavern. Perhaps she took a wrong turn?” Sigald said.

  Protective fury rose up in Kal. She took the bat and pushed the blunt end into Sigald’s chest. She loved that little girl with every fiber in her being, more than just a nanny or as a provision that came with loving Merit.

  Clarity was her daughter, and Kal would disassemble that mountain stone by stone to find her.

  “Don’t you dare blame my baby! You said you would watch her,” Kal said.

  Belith placed a hand on her arm. “She is well. The cavern is safe.”

  Safe. Kal seriously doubted that. Cave systems were fraught with peril, from underground water sources, pools, slippery rocks, steep inclines, pits, falling rocks, and crevasses. Even a cave that was designated a tourist spot had some elements of danger. Right at the moment, Clarity could have fallen and broken her leg. She could be screaming for help, and there was no one to hear her calls.

  “That is the biggest pile of bloody rubbish I’ve ever heard.” Kal closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts. “Birn, call Merit. Tell him what’s happened. Sigald, you’re taking me back to the cavern, and we’re going to the last place you saw Clarity. Belith, stay here with Dare.”

  Dare opened his mouth to protest.

  “No,” Kal said. “I need to know you’re safe right now. Can you do that for me, Dare?”

  He nodded, ears pressed down in shame and his tail hanging limply. “I lost her. I’m sorry.”

  Kal’s heart cracked. She went to her knees and pulled the boy into an embrace. He was too worried to give the normal protest about being too old for such displays of affection. “No, sweetie. You mustn’t think that,” she said.

  “I’m the big brother. It’s my responsibility to watch out for her.”

  “She wandered off.” Kal pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “She wandered off. We’ll find her, and when we know she’s all right, we’ll give her a piece of our minds for giving us such a fright.”

  Kal gave further instructions for Dare to stay put before jabbing Sigald once more with the bat. “Let’s go.”

  She had to stop herself from running through the crowd to the cavern. Panic wouldn’t help her. She needed to stay calm and think. Merit would be there soon. He had the experience, the manpower, and the equipment to find Clarity in a tick. Until this, she needed to keep her wits about her and think.

  Would Clarity have abandoned the tour she wanted to take earlier in the day?

  No. The kit was frightened of the dark and storms. She wouldn’t wander off alone in a cave.

  Unless she spied something she wanted enough to overrule her fear. Something like a shiny new crystal to add to her rock collection.

  “Was there an area with more debris on the ground? She might be hunting rocks,” Kal said.

  “More debris? No, I shouldn’t think so.”

  Kal frowned at the unhelpful answer. There had to be an area with some stones or pebbles. This was a cave, after all. Debris happened.

  They entered the cavern, and Kal understood Sigald’s unhelpful answer.

  Giant quartz crystals hung from the ceiling, refracting and scattering the light, lending the entire cavern a soft pink glow. Crystalline spurs covered every inch of the floor in sharp, jagged angels. She completely understood how Merit wanted to be the one to show her this wonder. It was the perfect spot for a date.

  “Oh, wow,” she breathed. They stood in an open space on a wooden platform. A raised walkway guided them through the cavern, winding around pillars and impressive stalactites and stalagmites.

  The path forked just as the natural light faded. Sigald paused to drop a marker, pointing to the left, and took out two small handheld lights. “You see now how it is impossible for Clarity to have left the path.”

  She’d have sliced her feet to ribbons.

  “She must be down another branch or maybe there’s a spot with less…” She searched for the correct word but could only come up with crystalline floor-knives.

  “This is where I noticed she was missing,” he said. “We will go to the last place I saw her. She must be somewhere in-between. Look for smaller passages and any path she might have taken.”

  Kal struggled to keep focused, tightening and relaxing her grip on the cricket bat. Water from an underground river had carved out the cave and water remained. The air was pleasantly cool and damp. Steady drips echoed, and the hard, flat crystals amplified every sound.

  “Clarity!” Her voice echoed, bouncing back with distortion. Even if Clarity responded, Kal wouldn’t be able to locate the girl based on sound alone. Still, just hearing her voice would be reassuring. “Clarity!”

  She swept the floor with the torch, looking for any gaps in the crystal spurs or evidence that someone tried to make their way through.

  A shrill scream bounced down the cave.

  Kal’s heart leaped into her throat. She spun, trying to determine from which direction the sound originated. “Clarity! I’m coming!”

  Sigald pointed to another fork in the path, this one with a barricade. She couldn’t read the placard, but the forbidding red circle seemed pretty bleeding universal as a sign to keep out.

  Sigald cracked a flare and rolled it down the wooden planks. The sickly green light showed no obvious signs of Clarity’s passage. He motioned for her to wait while he went first.

  Kal swept her light from side to side, searching the ground for any clue, any sign that Clarity came this way. Finally, just as her eyes watered with frustration, she spotted it.

  “Sigald, look,” she said. Her torch illuminated a cluster of broken spurs.

  Another cry, this one laced with pure fear.

  Kal acted before her brain caught on. She vaulted over the railings. Gaps between the crystal spurs might have been just wide enough for a child’s foot but not for an adult. The first step tore into the thick sole on her shoe. The second step dug in a shard. By the third, Kal ignored the pain and rushed through, occasionally slipping. The passage narrowed. The shards scraped against her legs, ripping the fabric and drawing blood. Somehow, through it all, she never lost her grip on the cricket bat.

  The foul air slapped Kal in the face, evoking an involuntary gag.

  The bouncing bean of the torch illuminated Clarity, scrambling to the top of a stalagmite, pulling herself up with kitten claws. At her feet, round, six-legged with pinchers at the front and a segmented body. Mornclaws. A dozen.

  “Clarity!” Kal shouted, unable to process more.

  “Clarity, hold on!” Sigald yelled across the distance. “Your human
is here. You’re going to survive.”

  “I can’t,” she whimpered. As if to emphasize her point, she slid down a few inches before pulling herself back up.

  “You can. I need you to hold on,” Kal said, picking her way through the obstacle course on the floor. She couldn’t get there fast enough. Clarity already was already bleeding on her feet and legs. Whether from the crystal shards of the mornclaws, she didn’t know. Didn’t want to think about.

  “What are you waiting for? Shoot!” Kal yelled to Sigald.

  “I cannot. A stray shot could bring down a stalactite or the roof.”

  “Don’t aim for the roof. Aim for the floor!”

  The male dashed past her, shards crunching under his heavy boots. Kal followed, using the path he created. Sigald laid down a line of suppressing fire, which drew the mornclaw away from Clarity’s pillar. Kal took the opportunity and reached Clarity just as the girl slid down again.

  A mornclaw leaped up, snapping at Clarity’s tail.

  Kal swung the bat, hitting soundly with a thick crack. It bounced back and turned to hiss at her. Too pumped with adrenaline to be afraid, Kal moved into a guarded stance. She kept her arms loose at her sides, ready to swing.

  The mornclaw twisted between her and Clarity, as if it couldn’t make up its mind. She was a potential bigger snack, but Clarity was bleeding.

  From the back of the pack, a mornclaw rose up on two legs. The remaining four legs folded over its chest and Kal swore it tilted its head, looking at her.

  Almost thinking.

  She shivered.

  “Monarch,” Sigald snarled.

  Kal didn’t have time to wonder what that meant. Nothing good. The monarch chittered and the other mornclaws acted, moving as a unit toward her

  The creature closest rushed forward and Kal braced herself, knowing that the bat trick would only work once but willing to sacrifice herself for her daughter. Not a step. Not an obligation. But a wonderful child who had such enthusiasm hidden behind a few anxieties. There was nothing Kal wouldn’t do for Clarity, even let herself get mauled by an angry spider monster, and Kal knew why Merit had been willing to marry a stranger, to do anything, to keep his children.