Wildcat

by Rebecca Hutto

  ‘I . . . I understand.’ She lay down, no longer able to even sit upright. “Sleeping,” she whispered. “Like Hyrees. Might not make it. Might not see either of them again.”

  Grey filled her mind. It finally hit her—she’d left him. She’d really left him; her best friend, her faithful companion, was now gone to her forever. The mission and her trek through the Lowlands had been enough to keep her mind off of the details for a while. Yet now, with Michelle in a similar state, and with herself in the uneasy safety of a tree, it was all too easy to think. ‘What if this was wrong? What if I was wrong?’

  “Hmm? Ember? Are you still there? Was there anything you needed?” Hye asked.

  ‘Yeah. I’m here. Thanks for telling me. I don’t really need anything right now. Thanks for asking, though. I should probably get some sleep. I’ve got lot of walking to do tomorrow. Tell Matthew I’m sorry for all the trouble, and that I hope Michelle gets better and wakes up soon.’

  “I will. Take care. Good luck with whatever it is you’re trying to do.”

  ‘Thank you. You too.’

  “Goodnight and goodbye.”

  “Goodnight. Bye,” she whispered.

  [call ended]

  Ember sighed and wrapped her paws over her face. ‘Please wake up, both of you. What is going on out there, in your world? Why would anyone do that? Just collapsing a building on a bunch of innocent people? I don’t understand. But I also don’t understand why anyone would kill a peace ambassador, or why Aspen would start a war trying to reunite colonies. Why does anyone do anything that will clearly end in disaster? Why won’t anyone just think?’ Her vision blurred. She wiped away the tears before they could fully form. ‘Why can’t they listen? Why can’t anyone listen? I can help! I’m the most powerful cat in the forest, and no one will listen to me. Why didn’t I do something? I should h—but wait. When was the last time I listened to someone? Really, listened to anyone?’

  The tears broke free. She was alone. There was no one around to call her weak or pathetic, no one to hate her for crying over something that really was nothing, so she curled herself into a ball and let herself go. ‘What am I doing? Now I cry? Over this? What is wrong with me? I can’t . . . Okay, calm down, Ember. You have to go to sleep. If you don’t get any tonight, you won’t make it to the West. Ever. So stop thinking about anything. Just for tonight.’

  She closed her eyes and mewled softly to herself. Her colors created a jumble of agony in her head. Every few seconds, she sniffled. A quiet whimper escaped her throat. ‘Who am I even trying to trick? I wanna go home. I miss Mom, and Dad, and Kivy. And now I miss Hyrees too. I can’t undo any of this now. I’ll never get my everyone back together, and I can’t fix anything, and if I can’t get to them in time, I may never ever see any of them again. If that happens, I’ll be completely alone for the rest of my life. This isn’t power, not if I can’t do anything with it. This—this isn’t anything! This is just a mistake, that’s what it is. I wasn’t supposed to chase Tainu. I wasn’t supposed to kill Whitehaze. I wasn’t supposed to go to the East. I wasn’t even supposed to live. Everywhere I go, I make things worse. Why am I here? Why do I even still exist?’

  Ember pressed her paws against her face. ‘Maybe Dark really was right. I haven’t been paying attention; what if everyone was right, and I just missed it because I was off thinking about trees, or some other stupid, fluffheaded thing no one cares about?’

  [I would like to remind you that you have an alarm set. Your heart rate has increased significantly in the past minute. I advise you save all self-deprecating thoughts for tomorrow. They appear to be the main source of your raised blood pressure and emotional distress.]

  ‘I know.’ Her throat tightened. A lump formed in her stomach, making her feel a queasy light green. ‘Self-deprecating thoughts and not the news about Michelle. Yeah. Glad to know you have priorities, Em. You selfish fo—er, what am I even? I still don’t know. I guess I should at least try to get some sleep.’

  Below her, the pleasant trill of the nearby creek offered some comfort. If she didn’t think about it too deeply, it almost sounded like home. She curled herself up tighter and let her mind wander. An hour later, she managed to cry herself into a fitful sleep.

  ———

  When Thai snapped her awake at two, it took a few moments for her to remember where she was. It took several moments more for her to build up the courage to get up and climb down, but all too soon, she found herself once again at the edge of the creek. Ember stared down at the dark water and blinked the sleep from her eyes. A surreal turquoise was the only color she could feel inside her. The familiar chill of nighttime made her shudder. Overhead, the moon and stars loomed, reminding her how long it would be before sunrise. She lapped up her fill of frigid water, then searched for a way to cross. A few leaps downstream, the branches of two trees on opposite sides intermingled. She climbed across them, then continued her journey.

  More history lectures played from her tag to keep predators at bay. Ember didn’t feel like listening, but it had seemed to work fairly well as a deterrent the day before. Her mind felt glazed over and stuffy with grey, like the fog rolling in. It clouded her vision and amplified every scent in the Lowlands.

  For a while, nothing happened. A few times she panicked, fearing she was lost in the mist, but a quick check with Thai confirmed she was going west each time. Her stomach ached and moaned for food. Despite her drink and the high humidity, her throat throbbed once again for moisture. Every unexpected noise made her jump. Lightheadedness threatened her with collapse. At the first light of dawn, she caught scents of cats—unfamiliar cats. It was too much.

  Ember stopped and closed her eyes. “Thai, turn it off!” she yowled.

  Fear made her shake. Hunger made her double over. The sudden silence combined with her tenseness made her ears ring. “What am I doing? I can’t do this,” she whispered. She dropped to her belly and covered her eyes. “He was right. I can’t do this. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. I can’t do this alone. Hyrees, why . . .”

  ‘Why did you have to leave me? No, wait, I left him. Why would I do that? Do I really not want us to be mates anymore? Agh! I’m so hungry I can’t even think properly. You have to hunt, Ember. Get up! You can’t die like this.’

  Her body refused to obey and instead shivered harder.

  ‘So this is it, then? You’re just giving up? There is no one here to save you. It’s time for you to save yourself for a change. Stop acting like this. Ignore the pain. Ignore the fear. Ignore all this pink and green. Come on! Get up! Your legs and tag are powered by the sun, and guess what, Emmy, that sun is rising. So get up.’

  “Hey, are you okay down there?” a voice asked.

  On instinct, Ember jumped to her paws. A blurry, mist-shrouded silhouette glared down at her. One of its pupils glowed with reflected light. Silver flickered in her head. She took a shaky step back. ‘Oh. Right. There is someone out here,’ she thought, remembering the mystery scents. “Wh-wh-who are you?”

  “That’s none of your concern,” the cat replied. “What are you doing here, young molly? You seem upset. And I take it you wandered onto our territory by accident.”

  She squinted to try to get a better look at the molly. Her fur was orangy-brown with patches of white on her face and tail. A small leather pouch hung around her neck like a collar. Ember licked her lips nervously and cowered under her green-inducing gaze. “Yes, I’m sorry. I-I’m just passing through, but I need help. My colony is about to get attacked and I’m trying to warn them, but I haven’t eaten in over a day. Do you m-maybe have some food I could . . . borrow?”

  The cat chuckled. “You can’t borrow food. Now run—oh! Oh my.” She climbed down the tree but remained distant enough to mask her features with mist. “Wait a moment, you’re that cat Bracken told us about: the one with the human machines for legs. Ember, right?”

  For a moment, all of her fears disappeared. “Uh, yeah, yes! A-and you must be part of the group he w
as telling me about. I was actually planning on trying to find you after I got my family out of the warzone. Would . . . would you be okay with taking us in?”

  “Of course. Bracken said it’d be in everyone’s best interest that we look out for you. I guess offering you a meal in the hopes that you’ll come back for more is good enough. You and your family will always be welcome here.”

  Ember shivered, though unlike the fear-induced shaking from only moments before, this time it seemed to stem from some combination of hope and her potential rescuer’s words. The molly’s voice was sweet and pleasant. Gentle. The kind of voice she could listen to for a long time and not get tired of—like Wren’s voice, but with an accent all its own. She felt a twinge of sadness at the thought of his name. His blurred face, along with the faces of Farlight and Hyrees, appeared in her mind, making her forget her hunger for a few seconds.

  The cat yawned and stretched, bringing her back to the present. Her fangs glistened in the dim lighting. She nodded her head toward a faint-yet-distinct dirt path. “I’m Vixen, by the way. Come with me. I’ll get you some food, then you can go get your family.”

  “Really? Thank you,” Ember said. She knew what the outsiders really wanted was her tag, but being a valuable resource would make them more likely to treat her well. Yet still, somewhere in the back of her mind, a silvery shimmer warned her to keep her distance. ‘Come on, it may seem too easy, but Bracken helped us too. He trusts these cats. And it’s not like I’ve got a choice. I’m hungry. She has food. I have to keep going. If she wanted to hurt me, she could have done it already.’

  “Don’t worry about it,” Vixen said, walking along the path. Ember followed behind her. “Though I will warn you now,” she continued, “some of the cats who live here are indeed what most would call ‘freaks.’ Me included. We are the outsiders of the outsiders. Cats like you, whom the colonies are content with killing or sending into exile for no faults of our own. The cats they’d rather forget about. Imperfect defects.”

  As she drew closer, the fog cleared enough for her to see her helper. Several large, irregular scars marred Vixen’s pelt, along with patches of dusty, greyish-white. One of her ears was rounder and shorter than the other. “Yeah,” Ember said. “Cats like me. Sounds like a great place.”

  “You don’t sound convinced,” Vixen said.

  “I’m not sure I am,” Ember replied. “Then again, I keep having moments where I’m not convinced I should even exist, s-so how convinced I am at any given moment is irrelevant.”

  “Ah, I see. Yes, we’ve all been there. It’s that deep-seated fear you’re not good enough, which everyone seems to enjoy shoving down your throat.” Vixen stopped. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but look at me.”

  She stopped and turned to face her. Ember bit her tongue. Her sleek, narrow muzzle was bare of all fur, including whiskers. Erratic patches of white covered her face. One of her yellow-green eyes was clouded with blue. When she blinked, her eyelids only closed over it halfway, because the top lid was partially gone. “Fires are not fun. I don’t recommend playing with them, or even running around in them.”

  “Yeah,” Ember said. Her mind raced, trying to remember if the History Tree had ever said anything about a recent forest fire. She couldn’t think of any marked records of one. For a split moment, her thoughts drifted to Tainu, of all cats. She shook the image of her cousin away.

  “You don’t have anything to say?” Vixen asked. “Go ahead and say what you want. I’ve heard it all. You can’t hurt me.”

  “I . . . have slightly glowing robot legs and an artificial intelligence chip implanted in my head. What am I supposed to say to you?”

  Vixen chuckled. “You might not be able to hurt me, but apparently you can surprise me. Bracken was right, not that I doubt his judge of character. I like you, Ember of the Highlands. Now let’s get you some food.”

  They walked into an unfortified, nebulous clearing. A narrow creek trickled around it, some offshooting branch of the Valley Creek. Large rocks formed a protective, western-facing semicircle along the water’s edge. The rocks were smooth where they touched the water but were more jagged around the edges. Most of them pointed skyward at varying angles. A few had holes in or under them, most large enough for a cat or two to fit in.

  An orange tabby with a stumpy tail lay on the ground beneath a tree. A tall black and white cat with milky white, pupiless eyes sat in front of a small cave. In the heavy mist and faint light of dawn, she almost mistook him for Eclan. The cave he guarded was situated in a rise in the earth at the far side of the clearing. The wide, rocky opening reminded her of a tiny version of the Rift. She sniffed the air. The scents of several cats filled her nose—too many to distinguish where one began and the other ended. An eerie sense of deja vu sank in. Something about the jumble of smells made the silver shine brighter.

  She shivered again. ‘I’ve smelled some of these scents before. At least one. But where? And why does it feel wrong that I’ve smelled them? Could just be Bracken. And possibly Eclan. Would they let a cat like Eclan stay here? I don’t know. Seems unlikely.’

  Vixen approached the blind guard. “Galax, dearest, this is Ember: the colony cat Bracken told us to be on the lookout for. She needs some food to make it to the West to save her family and bring them here. Would you be kind enough to get her some?”

  Ember’s stomach growled, as if trying to prove a point.

  “I can hear that,” Galax replied. “And yes. I’ll be right back.”

  Ember stepped closer to Vixen. “This isn’t everyone, is it? I mean, er, how big is the group?”

  Vixen chuffed. “Of course this isn’t everyone. We’re free to come and go as we please. Most of the colony is out hunting.”

  ‘Colony? They consider themselves a colony? The way Bracken was talking, it sounded like a small outsider group. “Colony” does not sound small or outsider.’

  “Hunting and also gathering the ones we need, among other things.” She laughed like a blithe mother. “Hopefully within the confines of our laws.”

  ‘Wait, if there’s a third colony, why hasn’t anyone heard of them yet? Why aren’t they invited to meetings? I wonder who the commander is. Do they have a commander? Can they clawmark? Do they have a history tree too? Or clay tablets? Maybe I can study outsider history when I come back. That would be good. That would make you happy, Ember.’

  She opened her mouth to ask about history-related learning opportunities, but Galax returned with a piece of dried mystery meat. He set it down in front of her, and she ate.

  ‘Rabbit. Definitely rabbit. Oh tahg, I want more. But I have a job to do. Come on, Ember. You’ve got some energy back. It’s nice enough here, I guess, but it’s time for you to get going.’ She licked up the last of the rabbit meat, then stood up. “Thank y’all. Really, thanks a lot. I have to go now, though, so see you later?”

  “You’re welcome, but I don’t think I’ll be doing much seeing—now or later,” Galax replied.

  “Yes, of course,” Vixen said with a chuff. “Goodbye, and good luck, Ember of the Highlands. Now go. Get your family and bring them here.”

  Ember bit her tongue at Vixen’s orders and went to the creek to get a drink. Tiny wisps of steam and near-freezing water greeted her. The coolness of it eased her throat and strengthened her. When she’d gotten enough, she traveled alone down the frosty path.

  ‘See?’ she thought, shaking away the lingering silver. ‘Not everyone is out to get you, Em. You’ve got allies now. I think. It’s going to be okay. I’m getting really close. I can do this.’

  She reached the place Vixen had found her, then turned westward and continued on her journey. When the sun peeked its first rays over the Eastern Mountain, she reached the foot of the West.

  She stopped and breathed out slowly. Her breath condensed. Her jaw trembled. ‘This is it. I don’t smell the East, so I guess that means I got here in time. Now to find Dad.’

  She walked north along the border until sh
e reached the Kivyress. At the bottom of the mountain, it wasn’t in as deep of a ravine, but momentum and the recent thaw made its water rushing. Instead of risking getting found by the wrong cat, she walked downstream until the creek widened and slowed. Time-worn stones, washed down from higher elevations, filled the Kivyress here. Despite the cloudiness of the morning, sunlight licked the mountaintop ahead, turning frost into gold before melting it. Soft, indigo shadows sheltered the creek and Lowlands from the sun’s harshness.

  As she hopped across, she took a few moments to savor the beauty. She stopped halfway to take a picture, then continued to the other side. The sweet, breezy, winter-chilled air caught in her fur with each jump, making her feel alive. The trill of the Kivyress welcomed her. Light glittered off of evergreen leaves, burning little spots of light into her vision. If war wasn’t on the horizon and the sun was half as bright, the morning would have been perfect.

  When she reached the other side, she followed the creek up the Western Mountain. ‘I did it! I made it across the Lowlands by myself. More or less. I actually did it.’ For a split moment, her thoughts went back to her last real conversation with Tainu. It felt like a lifetime had passed since that mildly pleasant yet fateful day. She shoved the thoughts aside. ‘I made it, and I’m not doing anything wrong. They can’t kill me for being on this side. I’m going to be fine.’

  She kept going until she reached the place they’d always started their patrol. It was a dip in the ground across the creek, leading into the ravine at an easy to navigate angle. The perfect place for a morning sip. She sniffed the air. His scent filled her nose. It was faint, but there, and only a day old. With it came another scent.

  ‘Rowan? His new patrolling partner is Rowan? But why? Hopefully he won’t be a problem. At least Dad’s kept up his routine. He’s a little late today, though.’ She sat down in the wet, dead grass. ‘If I wait here, he’ll come. He has to. Otherwise they’re all doomed. The abatis won’t do anything against the East. Being ready is the only chance they have.’