The Society of Secret Cats

BOOK: The Society of Secret Cats
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The Society of Secret Cats

By
De Kenyon

 

Copyright © 2011 by
De Kenyon

 

Published b
y Wonderland Press

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you

re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

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WonderlandPress.com
.

 

***

 

For Fafnir, whose luxurious tail
guards my daughter’s sleep.

 

***

 

Table of Contents:

Author Information

Cover C
r
edits

Publisher Information

Read More!

 

***

 

Mice are delicious.
But even more delicious are monsters, ghosts, and things that go bump in the night.
Your mother or father might tell you that they are all in your head and that you

re just imagining things.
In a way, they

re right. Monsters are all in your head.

But you

re not just imagining things.

 

I was inside Jaela

s head with a tasty monster called an Aranea,
which was
dribbling slime and trying to skitter out of the way on its spider claws, when the entire world of dreams shook, as though being shifted around by an earthquake.

The Aranea crawled up the wall of Jaela

s
dream-
bedroom, clinging to the ceiling, too scared even to spit acid at me, as I tried to keep Jaela from waking.
It is bad when a dreamer wakes before you have eaten the monster, because the
monster
might be
able to escape the dreamer

s head, sometimes for a short time, sometimes for a long time, and cause mischief.

When I was a wee kitten, I let one of her monsters get out, and it threw a tantrum in her room, only disappearing when her parents appeared to find out what was the matter.
Jaela hid in a corner and screamed, and wouldn

t stop screaming even when her parents asked her what was the matter.

She was punished for breaking toys and writing in crayon strange words in letters and languages that none but those who walk dreams could ever read.

But, even as a kitten, I could read them:
Stupid cat.

I was so insulted...and ashamed...that I had to lick my tail for an hour, afterwards.  I have never since let another dream escape, no matter how much they beg and plead and say it’s the only way to save their grandmothers from terrible monsters, etc.

Inside Jaela

s dream, I purred, trying to soothe her.
Sometimes
when
she woke suddenly,
she would
look around for a few seconds, and then
go
b
fs
ack to sleep as she shifted to a more comfortable position.

Not this time.

As the dream world shook, it changed, becoming less like Jaela

s closet, bedroom, house, and city, and more like a forest full of long trees with even longer shadows.

The shaking turned from a constant rumble into footsteps.
Some
gigantic
thing was coming toward us through Jaela

s dream, toward her dream-self.
She whimpered, squatted down on the moldy leaves of the forest floor, and wrapped her arms around her knees.


Shh,

I told her.

I will defend you.
No monster will hurt you while I am here, my princess.

It was not o
ften that I spoke her in dreams, for then she always knew she was dreaming.


Ferntail?

she said.

Where are we?


I do not know,

I said.


We are in the Great Forest,

hissed a voice.

I q
uickly looked up and saw the Ara
nea above us, on one of the trees.
I growled at it, and it backed up the trunk.

It laughed through its long teeth at me.

You

ll never catch me here, dream-walker.
There are too many ways for me to escape, not like the corner of some bedroom, where you can trap me and eat me.


Run away, little nightmare,

I said.

Lest something bigger come along and snap off your many legs so you can

t run away anymore.


Please,

Jaela said.
The ground was shaking even harder than before.

I shifted form, until I walked like a man on my hind legs, and picked up Jaela in my arms. I ran quickly through the forest, ignoring the branches that whipped across my fur, protecting Jaela in my arms.
She put her arms around my neck and clutched
me hard, but not so hard that I
couldn

t breathe.

We ran, the footsteps growing louder, until I came upon a little house in a clearing of the forest.
I hadn

t noticed
how dark was
the forest (we cats can see well in dark places) until we reached the clearing, and bright moonlight shone down, making the long blades of grass shine white.
The windows of the little house were covered with wooden shutters that let only tiny cracks of light through, but the chimney was puffing smoke.
Jaela shivered in my arms, and I realized she must be cold, a human outside at night in only her nightgown.

I stepped toward the house when the hissing voice laughed at me again.

I wouldn

t do that if I were you.

I looked up; the spiderlike Aranea hung above us, as though we hadn

t moved a step.


Get back!

I swiped at it with one paw, cutting across one leg, which dripped clear fluid onto the forest floor.


Sssss...no need to be rude,

the Aranea said.

But I would avoid the house if I were you.
Witches live in houses in the middle of the wood.
A word to the wise.

Jaela shivered again.


She is cold,

I explained.


Better to be cold than eaten
by a witch
,

the Aranea said.


She cannot be eaten in her own dream,

I said.

The Aranea dribbled green slime onto a foreleg and rubbed it over the wound in its other leg.

But she is not in her own dream any longer, as I said.
This is the Great Forest, not some little child

s dream.
This is something bigger.

I turned around in a circle slowly as the shaking, quaking footsteps grew ever closer.

What is it, then?
I have never been here, nor have I ever heard of it.


If a child lives in a house, and a house lives in a city, and a city lives in a region, and a region lives in a country, and a country lives in a continent, and a continent lives on the whole world wide, then this is the continent of dreams upon which the child lives.
A dream that came out of the great forests of the old world.


Why are we here?

I could see trees falling, jerking, disappearing as the
earth-shaking
monster shoved them aside.


She is a very strong dreamer,

the spider-kin said.

I have had my eyes on her for quite some time.
Perhaps others have, too.


And what is that?

I asked.
I felt as though I was not the mighty warrior-cat of dreams that I had come to think of myself over the last five years of defending the girl from dreams, most no stronger
and no more clever than the Ara
nea above us.


An Azdaja,

it said.

If it comes to a choice between killing the girl and letting the Azdaja eat her and take over her dreams, well, there are other little girls you can protect.

I shuddered, and held Jaela close.

Never.


When you see it, you will understand.
Now run!
But do not go into the house.
For there are things even worse than the Azdaja in the Great Forest.

 

I backed into the darkness of the forest and ran.
One of the clever-clever things that I have learned, as a dream-walker, is to run faster than
paws
can run, faster than thought.
I do not know of any other dream-walkers who can run so fast, but of course now I realize that I only knew a handful of our kind, hardly enough to say that I knew anything at all.

But still, when I put my tail to it, I could run faster than the Azdaja, for I heard the sound of it fading behind us.

The Aranea could run even faster, or had some other trick, for it was waiting for us when I stopped, gasping, under another tree.


Doesn

t this forest ever end?

I asked.


No,

said the spider-kin.

In this dream, it is everywhere.
Beware the forest, but beware the things that are not in the forest even more.
You are about to come upon the Wolfish-kin soon, by the way
, if you should continue in this direction
.


Why are you following us?

I asked.


Because I want to get out of this forest as much as you do.
I far prefer the safe little dreams of little girls than that of the Great Forest and its kind.
I could get eaten up in two snaps out here.


You

ll get eaten either way,

I growled.

When we get back, I will crunch you right up.

I let Jaela slide down to the ground.

She looked up at the spider-kin.

You have a face.

BOOK: The Society of Secret Cats
4.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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