Claws (9780545469678) (5 page)

“Hey,” Marie said, but she didn't quite look at Emma, and her voice was quiet. Distant. She'd been acting weird ever since Helena had disappeared, like she didn't know what to say around Emma anymore.

“Did you watch the latest episode of
Gnomebots
? I didn't get to see it because of the move, and we don't even have Internet yet.”

“My dad said I'm not supposed to hang out with you anymore,” Marie said slowly, still not meeting Emma's gaze. “I wouldn't care what he said, you know I wouldn't, but it's just . . .” She shrugged. “He threatened to take away my cell
and
my laptop. You know how he is about . . . crags.” She said it as if Emma was a crag herself and might be offended by the word.

Emma stared at her friend. “What does any of that have to do with me?”

Marie shrugged again. “You know. You live with them. He thinks you might be a bad influence, that I could get hurt.”

“So, what, because I had to move, I'm suddenly not good enough to be your friend?”

“No! I don't think that, Emma.” And a look came into her eyes — a pitying, supposedly sympathetic look Emma was getting to know well. The look that said,
I'm sorry you lost your sister, but it makes me sad to be around you, and can't you just get over it already so I don't have to feel that way?
“We can still hang out at school, okay?”

“Okay,” Emma said dully. “See you inside, then. Wouldn't want you to be seen talking to me.” She turned away and headed for the back of the line, not looking to see if Marie followed.

She wasn't exactly surprised. Well, not about Marie's dad. When he was a kid, his home had been destroyed when the magical forest had overtaken Old Downtown. He was always going on about it.

The bell finally rang, and the line of kids started filing through the doors. The line inched forward because of the magic detectors the school had installed at the beginning of the year. They were supposed to stop kids from bringing dangerous magical items to school, but it just made getting into the building take so long that they were usually late for homeroom.

When she went through the magic detector, someone started making loud beeping noises, and everyone laughed. At least Marie had tried to be nice about it. Then again, Marie was probably the one who told Casey and Amanda where Emma was moving to, and they probably told everyone else, so this was kind of Marie's fault.

I don't need stupid friends like her anyway.
She hoped Marie's laptop got a virus and blew up.

A boy named Matt jogged to catch up with her. “So what it's like living with all those crags?”

“What do you care?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I just thought maybe you could help us with the crag problem we're having, since you're an expert and everything. See, these crags are sneaky. They look just like girls, but actually they're ugly trolls that stink like swamp, and the —” He stopped suddenly and sniffed. “Wait . . . you're not . . . It's you! You're the crag!”

Matt and his friends were always picking on one kid or another. People always laughed, mostly because they didn't want to be the ones getting picked on. At least, that's what her dad had said. It didn't make it any better. Emma couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't just make things worse. She tried to walk faster, but he followed her.

“So have you tried showering? Maybe that would help with the smell. I'm only trying to be helpful.” He stopped in front of her, blocking her way. “What about your little friend? Is she a crag, too?”

Emma noticed Marie at the same time Matt did.

“There's one of them now,” he said. “So what kind of crag are you? You don't look like a troll. A ratter, maybe?”

“I'm not a crag!” Marie said quickly. “I hate crags.”

“Then why are you friends with one, ratface?” he smirked.

“I'm not! She just . . . she just follows me around all the time and tries to copy my homework. Nobody likes her. I mean, she smells, right?”

So much for still being friends at school,
Emma thought. While Matt laughed, she ducked past him and ran to homeroom. She didn't see Marie again until third period. Their desks were next to each other, but Emma refused to look at her ex-friend.

Marie set a note on Emma's desk.
Sorry,
the note said.
Gnomebots was awesome. I DVR'd it. Want me to burn you a copy?

Emma pretended she didn't see it. When the bell rang, she stood, knocking the note to the floor, and walked away.

CRAG FACT OF THE DAY:

“During the Salem Cat Trials of 1912, six men and thirteen women were accused of being cats that had changed their shape to look like humans. All were hanged, though they were proved innocent after all of them failed to turn into cats upon their death.”

CragWiki.org

E
mma didn't pay any attention in any of her classes. All she wanted to do was get home and see if Jack had come back yet. If everyone was going to think she was a crag, she might as well hurry up and become one already. What was that thing he was going to get? A Heart's Blood, or something?

Her mom was late. Emma wasn't sure if she was happy to wait or not. On the one hand, it gave her more time to brood. On the other, at least no one was around to make fun of her. But after sitting on the curb for half an hour, the scale was definitely tipping to
not
happy.

When her mom finally pulled up, all she said was, “Sorry about that. I have to go back to work, but your father's home. Come on, hurry up.”

“I might as well have changed schools,” Emma said, sliding into the passenger seat. The vent rattled softly as it blew cold, dry air over her arms. “Marie's dad won't even let her talk to me.” Not that she wanted to talk to Marie anymore, but still.

“That's ridiculous,” her mom said, frowning. “As soon as we get the phone hooked up I'll give him a call, I'm sure he'll —”

“No! You can't do that. Just leave it alone, okay? I don't care anyway.”

Her mom took her eyes off the road for a moment, looking at Emma with a worried expression. “You want to tell me what happened?”

“Why can't Jack stay with us?” Emma demanded. “And don't say because he's a cat or a crag, because those are the only friends I'm going to have.”

“Emma, this isn't up for debate,” her mom said. “It's all right to be friends with crags. With some crags. But you have to be careful. They're not like us. Even if they look almost human, they're just . . . they're different. Dangerous.”

“I thought different makes you special,” Emma said sarcastically. “Remember? When that kid was making fun of me in first grade, you were all,” she mimicked her mom's voice, “ ‘
You're special, be proud of your heritage, it's good to be different
.' What happened to that?”

“I'm sorry you're having a rough time,” her mom said. Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “But we're doing this for your sister. It's probably the only chance we have left.”

“Yeah. I know,” Emma said. She wiped at her eyes.

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Her mom stopped by the trailer just long enough to let Emma out, then drove away again. Emma trudged up the metal steps to the front door and threw it open. “Dad?” she called. But he wasn't in the living room watching TV, or in the kitchen. She was just about to knock on her parents' bedroom door when the door to her own room creaked open behind her.

“He's gone to the forest again,” said a familiar voice. “Trying to talk to more crags. Fool.”

“Jack!” Emma ran to her bedroom and closed the door.

Jack jumped onto the bed and faced her, his eye half closed in a sly, satisfied expression. She noticed he'd tracked leaves and dirt all over her blankets. He lifted his paw.

Below it lay what looked like a small, soft marble, glowing with a dark red light that seemed to pulse.

She peered at it. “Is that what you were talking about? The Blood thing? It looks like a hair ball.” She'd meant it to be a joke, but her voice didn't rise above a whisper. The more she stared at it, the deeper the color became, drawing her in. She could see something in it now, dark swirls, like shadows dancing in the firelight.

“Well, that's rather insulting,” Jack said. “This is the Heart's Blood of a pride of cats. It's the source of their magic. Whoever has it becomes the leader of the pride. Its heart. That's you. You're going to be the Pride-Heart.”

With some effort, Emma pulled her eyes away from the Heart's Blood. “I don't remember reading about anything like this on CragWiki. Cats can turn into things, right? Like bigger cats and stuff? Is that what I'll be able to do?”

“It does a lot more than that. Enough magic for you to get your sister back. Now pay attention. You'll have to learn to rule over the rest of your pride. You'll need them to help you track down your sister.”

“But I don't want to rule over anyone,” Emma said. “It doesn't seem right.”

“There's more to it than that. Because a Pride-Heart is the source of a pride's magic, they want to be ruled. And every cat wants magic. You still want to find your sister, don't you?”

“But couldn't we try to find my sister together, just you and me?”

“The pride'll still show up sooner or later, expecting magic. Better to give it to them, right? Anyway, we still wouldn't be as effective as lots of cats looking for your sister, would we?”

“No. I guess not,” Emma said. “But if this thing's so important, how'd you get it?”

Jack spent a moment cleaning his face. “All you need to know is that the last Pride-Heart is dead. There's a vacancy and . . . the Heart's Blood doesn't respond well to cats like me. Anyway, the Pride-Heart is nearly always a female. This way we both get what we need, so it's all for the best, isn't it?”

“You killed the Pride-Heart?” Emma said quietly. She tried to picture Jack hurting something. It wasn't a nice thought.

“Maybe a little,” Jack said dismissively. “But that was before I even met you, so there's no point in worrying about it now.”

Emma swallowed and glanced at the Heart's Blood again. As soon as she looked at it, her gaze seemed to sink into it again. Or was it that everything around it started to seem less real somehow? She didn't have to wonder why it was called the Heart's Blood. The red light, the way it pulsed steadily. Even the way Jack described it, with magic flowing from the Pride-Heart to the other cats . . . Blood, the life of the pride, pulsing through them from the Pride-Heart.

But what if it was too late? What if Helena was already . . .

“Is it dangerous?” she asked, trying to forget what she'd been thinking.

Jack just looked at her. If he'd had eyebrows, they would have been raised.

“Mom and Dad would kill me if they found out I was messing with magic like this,” Emma said. She was stalling, she knew, but she couldn't help it. “And Mom already doesn't like you.”

“Trust me,” Jack said.

Emma's heart pounded. She hesitated for a moment, then reached down and picked up the Heart's Blood. It felt soft and fuzzy, like a peach, and it smelled like a forest after it had rained: heavy and wild and full of darkness. She hadn't even known darkness could have a smell until that moment. “What do I do with it?”

“I've only seen a cat become Pride-Heart once. She lapped it up like it was water. You could try that. I don't really think it matters how you do it, though. Tell it what you want, and it'll know what to do.” His ears flicked up. “But you'd better make it quick. Your pride's close. They'll be here any moment now. They're drawn to the Heart's Blood.”

Emma focused on the small marble. It seemed to purr in her hand and the shadow-shapes within it had started to look like cats. They were searching for something. Searching for
her
.

“You won't get another chance,” Jack hissed, and there was hunger in his voice now. “What's that word you humans are always throwing around like it means something? Love? Don't you love your sister? Don't you want to save her? Do it!”

“She's my sister. Of course I love her,” Emma said softly. Then, almost without knowing what she was doing, she brought the Heart's Blood up to her mouth. She tasted the deep, wild darkness on the tip of her tongue. She smelled it as it filled her nose. Heard it like the hiss of a great cat. Time seemed to slow.

Then the feeling was gone. Emma looked down at her hands. The Heart's Blood was gone, too.

Everything sped up again. Her head spun, and an electric tingling filled her nose and mouth.

“I think I lost it,” Emma said. She stared at her empty hands.

But the electric smell was growing stronger. No, it was a different smell. The dirty clothes she'd dumped in a laundry bag seemed to reek. Jack stank, too — of dirt and musk and . . . copper? Why did he smell like copper? She smelled the dish-washing liquid in the kitchen, the Chinese takeout in the trash, the mold on the ceiling . . .