Wildcat

by Rebecca Hutto

  ‘Oh, I hate this. Why couldn’t the wires have been made to be self-healing too?’ She sighed. ‘But do I really? Do I really hate this? I mean, I guess I shouldn’t complain too much. It’s either this or me being dead. Come on, Ember—focus.’

  “Maybe I should go get Crow to finish helping you.” Shard said. “I’m getting tired. I-I don’t know how much longer I can do this, and I’m worried I might mess something up. That always happens, you know. It’s the reason I’m a healer. It’s the only job I’m even slightly good at. I’ve tried other jobs, and each time my career ended disastrously—and I do mean disastrously. I almost got a cat killed last time I tried to group hunt, and that is not an exaggeration.”

  “You’re doing fine. You won’t ruin anything. Look, I’m almost done.”

  Shard sighed but continued holding the hole open. Ember flattened her ears and reached in. Careful not to push the other wires out of place, she hooked a claw around the loose piece and pulled it upward. She concentrated on moving one of her toes. It responded immediately.

  “Oh good, that worked. Thai, restore all functions except the pain sensors,” she said.

  “All functions minus pain sensors have been restored,” Thai replied.

  Within a few seconds, sealant fluid began seeping out of the skin around the hole.

  Ember breathed out through her mouth. “Okay, here’s where it gets interesting. Shard, I need you to take some of that sealant fluid, and put it onto the wire. Without that, it won’t rebuild itself in the proper position, and the entire thing will continue to short out, likely getting more and more detached until I can no longer use my right foreleg for anything at all.”

  “How am I supposed to do that? Ember, both my paws are busy just keeping the hole open. Also, the thing with the rebuilding, and the sealant stuff, that all, it sounds important, so I really should not be the one to do it.”

  “You can do it, Shard. Just improvise.”

  Shard growled quietly. He lifted a hind paw and awkwardly pressed it against her foreleg, then he used his free paw to scrape off some of the fluid from the skin. Ember moved her own paw out of the way as much as she could, giving him enough room to dab the gel-like substance onto the wire.

  “Is that enough? Enough of that goo stuff, that is?” he asked.

  “Should be,” Ember replied. “Now we just have to wait a few moments for it to dry. When we both let go, the skin should pull in on itself, and the sealant should fix that as well. Then we’ll be done.”

  When she let go of the wire, it remained properly positioned. She breathed a sigh of relief and nodded to Shard. He released her leg, and the synthetic skin and muscle mass went back into place, just as it was supposed to.

  “S-so we’re done? That was it?” Shard said.

  Ember lifted her foreleg and wiggled her toes.

  “It would appear the operation was successful. Good job,” Thai said.

  Ember laughed. She set her paw on the ground and stood up. Bright bursts of red, orange and deep brown flared in her head, dancing like the flames beside them. She got the urge to dance with them but ignored it. Until the wire fully reattached itself, too much movement could still dislodge it.

  Shard tilted his head. “I don’t understand. What’s so funny? We, uh, we did it, right?”

  She leaped at him and nuzzled his neck. “Yes, we did it! It’s fixed. We fixed it. Us! All by ourselves—without the humans. Is it weird that I kind of want to do it again?”

  “Yes. Uh, I mean probably?” he said, pinning back his ears.

  “Shard, this is the first time I’ve been happy in a long time. And it’s the second time something’s gone right in a long time. Thank you. Thanks for helping me.”

  Shard stepped back and looked at his paws. “So . . . I actually did something right?”

  She smiled. “Yes. Yes you did. And I don’t think anyone else here would have. In a way, I think you saved my life.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, good, we’re even.”

  “Hardly. I think now I owe you.”

  His eyes widened. “R-really? Because that’s the first time anyone’s ever said that. To me, obviously. Not, ah, well, you-you know what I mean.”

  Ember chuffed. “Yes, really. You know, we work together pretty well. And I’m sure you’ll like working with Hyrees even more. He’s less demanding. And less machine-y. You’re both on day shift in the healer’s den.”

  “Oh, really? Oh, yes, I would bloody love that. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, we have. Oh, oh, maybe Mum will even let me train him.”

  “Maybe. You could ask tomorrow.”

  “Alright, you’re done.” Echo’s voice made Ember jump. “Now would you two get some sleep? You’ll wake the whole Rift up if you keep rambling on like that.”

  Echo strode toward them. When she reached them, she pressed her forehead against Shard’s and smiled. “You did well, little brother.” She turned to glare at Ember. “And you, you made him feel good about himself, even if you did use him. I’ll count that for something. I guess. Better than some cats here. Now come on; it’s getting late. To your quarters, both of you.”

  “Y-yes, of course, Echo,” Shard said. “Good night, Ember. Echo and I, we sleep near Mum’s den by the rocks, so we’ll be there. You know, in case you or Hyrees need anything.”

  Echo nudged him onward, away from the fire pits and deeper into the heart of the East. Ember flattened her ears as they left.

  “Goodnight,” she said weakly.

  She headed back to her and Hyrees’s sleeping quarters. As she walked, her emotions became a nauseating muddle of colors that swirled in her mind like a storm. She tried her best to ignore them. Eventually they morphed into a single solid color somewhere between slate grey and mountain blue.

  ‘I’m too tired for this. I need more mildly frustrating problems to solve, not an entire colony full of lives to save, or an entire colony full of names to memorize. Where am I supposed to be right now?’

  She peered up beyond the protective ceiling of the Rift. Stars peered right back at her, glowing and shimmering without a care in the universe; lonely balls of energy that would burn anyone who ventured too close yet were on the path to death themselves. When one of them passed on, it would be a prolonged, painful death that would end in an explosion. Then something new could replace it: a new star, and maybe even new planets. Humans, with their technology, had seen it happen many times.

  As she watched the stars, she wondered how long the universal cycle of life and death would continue before the last living thing died. Then what would happen? She didn’t know. She also didn’t feel like asking Thai about it. Something about the thought made turquoise come back, but she didn’t have the mental energy to keep her musings going, so she went back to walking. When she reached her quarters, Hyrees was already asleep, snoring and taking up most of the entrance.

  Boreal lifted her head. “I see you got it fixed.”

  Ember glanced down at the still slightly sticky line running down her foreleg. Part of her wondered if it would leave a scar. “Yeah. I can . . . walk properly again now.”

  “That’s good.” Unlike most other cats she’d met, Boreal’s tone of voice didn’t seem to have any hidden meanings. Her words were simple, and meant what they said they meant. Ember liked that. “Guess this means you’ll be patrolling tomorrow.”

  Ember cocked an ear. ‘How does she know? Did Hyrees tell her, did she overhear it, or did she figure it out on her own?’ She licked her lips. “Uhm, yes, I think so. If Jade assigns me a partner, at least.”

  Boreal snorted and rested her chin on her paws. “Of course. Sleep well, I guess. If you can. Is he always this loud?”

  Ember shoved Hyrees to one side of the little tunnel, then crawled in behind him. The stone floor chilled her paws. She lay down and leaned against his bony ribs, his spine pressing into her cheek. “Not always. Sometimes he’s even louder. Occasionally he won’t snore at all. If someone smacks him on the nose or
something to try to make him stop, I wouldn’t blame them.”

  “Can I ask you a kind of personal question?” Boreal asked. Her voice was muffled by the wall between them.

  “Sure. You may or may not get an answer, though.”

  “You know what? Never mind. Forget it. Let’s just get some sleep.”

  Purple fluttered through her tired head, but she couldn’t bring herself to try to chase it off with answers. Instead, she sighed and snuggled closer to Hyrees’s warmth. Yet even with him resting faithfully at her side, the deep, dark blues of loneliness sank in, stalking closer and closer until it became all she could feel.

  ‘Kind of like a star,’ she thought.

  Chapter 27

  Ember

  “As a small few of you may already know, this is Ember,” Jade announced. She stood tall in front of a semicircle of rough-looking border guards. “She is from the West but will be staying with us nonetheless. She is now my answers cat; I ask her questions and her tag gives me answers, so treat her well. In a way, she outranks some of you.”

  Ember sat beside and slightly behind her, keeping one ear cocked toward the ‘cave of healing,’ as the Easterners called it. Falcon was giving Hyrees a similar introduction to his new fellow healers. Her gaze landed on Boreal, who sat in a hunched over position at the edge of the group. Her constantly wandering eyes made Ember wonder what she was thinking about. When she grew bored of wondering, she turned her attention to the other guards and tried to deduce what fighting style each of them preferred.

  ‘Scars on legs—fast and effective. Not bad as partners. Scars on back and hind legs—sloppy and indirect. No, too similar to my style. Wait, I don’t have any scars on my back. That’s good, I guess. Uhm, where was I? Oh, the Rift, right.’ She chuffed to herself. ‘And, okay, nope. No, he wouldn’t make a good partner, either. Oh, scars on face. You like fighting, don’t you? Well, I hope she doesn’t pair me with you. Hold on, I have scars on my face. Hum. I guess scar-reading only works to an extent. Besides, it doesn’t matter who I want to partner with. Jade’s probably already chosen someone.’

  “Ember, are you listening?” Jade asked.

  Ember tensed at the sudden reappearance of sound. “Oh, uhm . . . sorry. No. I was, uh, thinking about stuff.”

  A few of the guards chuffed or muttered among themselves. A large tabby stood and stepped forward—the cat Ember had mistakenly called ‘Falcon’ earlier that morning. Ember’s face still burned from the encounter.

  “Commander Jade, are you certain we can trust this kitten?” the cat, a molly who was very much not Falcon, asked. “Are you certain we should even let her stay at all? I mean, she only showed up last night, and you’re already assigning her a position on the guard? How can we know she’s telling the truth or that she won’t betray us? For all any of us know, she could be an assassin sent to kill you. The West does think we used that outsider kitten to kill their commander. What’s to stop them from trying to do the same to us with this mechanical mess?”

  Several cats mumbled their agreements, making Ember shrink back to hide behind Jade. She hadn’t even known the Eastern commander for a full twenty-four hours, yet she already found herself taking comfort in seeing her somewhat familiar swirl of stripes.

  Jade’s tail twitched. “Calm down, all of you. I understand your concerns, but there’s no need to worry. I have my own methods of finding out who is truly on our side. However, that is not important right now, as I’m placing her with Boreal on the peak. She will do us no harm there and won’t be promoted until her loyalty has been proven.”

  Ember tilted her head. A shiver made the fur on her spine bristle. ‘Wait, what am I supposed to be doing? Did she bring any of this up when I wasn’t listening? Doesn’t seem like it. What information am I not getting, then? Maybe I could ask Boreal, if she doesn’t repeat herself.’

  “Now, off to your posts. Except for you, Boreal.” She paused until the other border guards left. “When you two return from your patrol, come directly to my den. I want a full report of what happened. Understood?”

  “Yes. Uh, ma’am. Yes, ma’am,” Boreal replied.

  “Good,” Jade said. “Now off you go.”

  Boreal stood and lifted a paw toward the nearest edge of the Rift. “Come on then, Ember. Looks like we’re work partners.”

  Ember trotted to join her and they left for the peak. As they walked, she subconsciously adjusted her pace to stay next to and slightly behind Boreal. She’d learned it to be a submissive position, letting the senior cat lead.

  Boreal glanced back at her, then did a double-take. “Why are you back there?”

  Ember picked up her pace to walk directly beside her. “Because my dad said it’s important to acknowledge a superior, and apparently letting the superior lead the way is the way to do it.”

  “Well, I’m not your dad. I don’t have any rules other than keep patrolling the peak until it’s time to go back. There are no habits, no silly little rituals, no superiors; there’s just us and the mountain.”

  As they walked, light from the rising sun drifted into the partly cloudy sky in front of them. Ember squinted and kept her eyes on the ground ahead. Even with her vision concentrated on the snow, she couldn’t help but notice the large amount of conifers making up the forest around them. She glanced over at Boreal.

  ‘Wait, I don’t know almost anything about her, and she doesn’t know much about me. How are we supposed to work together?’ she thought. ‘Time to ask questions, I guess.’ Ember sighed. “So what’s your style?”

  Boreal turned to look at her again. “Pardon?”

  “You’ve only got one scar from what I can see, and it’s on your shoulder. I don’t know what kind of fighting style you prefer or how it might work with mine in a confrontation. I want to know what it’s like.”

  “Oh. Hah. Take a wild guess.”

  “Uhm, well, you don’t look like you do much ground fighting. So . . . you prefer to keep your distance?”

  Boreal chuffed. “You could say that. I don’t have a fighting style. I patrol the peak because I’m talentless and no one likes me. No one ever comes this way. Except the occasional bobcat or fox, but even those are rare. And they’re always skittish, so if I make enough noise and run at them fast enough, they scamper off without a fight. We’ve got the easy and boring job because Jade doesn’t trust us with anything important.”

  “Ah, okay. Makes sense. If we even patrolled our peak, I’d probably be the one doing it. For the same reasons too. Though I do have a fighting style—try not to die.”

  Ember paused mid-step as the truth of her own words hit her like a falling acorn. She sighed quietly and continued onward.

  “What is it?” Boreal asked.

  Ember swallowed. Pure, unfiltered sunlight appeared through the trees beyond the mountain crest up ahead. It stabbed her eyes, forcing her to close them. She mewed quietly to herself to stay calm. ‘I guess I can trust her. Secrets can be used to build someone up, remember? Maybe she’s willing to do that for me. It’s not like I have anyone else. Except Shard and Hyrees, but they don’t care, and she probably doesn’t either. Oh come on, Ember. You’ll never improve unless you try something new.’

  “I . . . recently found out that I’m not even supposed to be alive,” she said.

  Boreal flicked back an ear. “What do you mean? As in, your parents weren’t trying to have you?”

  “No, no, they wanted me. Want me. It’s because of them that I’m still breathing.” Ember stopped walking and closed her eyes again to gather her thoughts, then explained as best she could Dark’s decree of drowning all defective kittens and how Cloud had brought her to safety through his connections and willpower.

  “Oh,” Boreal said when Ember finished. She didn’t add anything more and went back to walking.

  Ember grimaced. It hadn’t done anything but give this cat she barely knew more power over her. ‘Yep, that sure helped, Ember. Yes, I feel so much better now. I should tell her
the rest of my life story.’

  When they reached the peak, Ember stopped to gape at the valley below. It appeared to be smaller and more shallow than Dark’s Valley, but with infinitely more intriguing contents. A rough patch of ground without trees sliced the upper portion of the mountainside, and human buildings and fences covered its middle. In one parking lot, two static hoverships sat on their landing pads, and in the other, several smaller white vehicles rested. The entire place, parking lots and all, was concealed from above by a giant holographic screen projecting images of treetops. Ember guessed that the entire facility was only visible from the sides, where the screen faded. She estimated the distance between her and the first wall of fencing to be roughly thirty metres, if she remembered the length of a metre correctly.

  “What is it?” Ember asked. “I mean, I know it’s all human buildings and equipment, but what are they for? And why are they trying to hide it? Is it ARC?”

  “I don’t know,” Boreal replied. “All I know is that the humans there are not our friends. Did Jade or my father tell you about them?”

  “Tell me what?”

  While she was still speaking, one of the hoverships revved to life, its spinning blades buzzing like distant bees. It phased up through the screen, then flew away into the great unknown. Ember watched with curiosity as it vanished into the clouds.

  “So they didn’t,” Boreal said after the hum faded. “Well, you’ll find out eventually if you stay here long enough. Might as well tell you now. Every autumn, just before the meeting, they take two kittens, ones less than a winter old, and we aren’t allowed to do anything about it. It’s the only way they’ll let us stay here. What happens to those kittens they take, no one knows. It’s probably less pleasant than being drowned, though.”