Claws (9780545469678) (6 page)

“Well?” Jack asked. “Do you feel it? Do you have the Heart's Blood inside you?”

Emma realized she was on the floor. She felt dizzy, sick. Her heart was pounding. “I . . . I don't know. It's like smelling is more important than seeing. But I'm okay now. I think . . .”

There was a strange pulling sensation in her gut that made the room spin, and suddenly she smelled cats outside. There were so many of them the smell nearly choked her. Then came a deafening smash. The trailer shook violently back and forth. Papers and schoolbooks slid across her desk and crashed to the floor. Something shattered in the kitchen.

Emma felt more than heard the growl outside the trailer, felt it deep in her chest and the pit of her stomach.

“Jack! Who did you give the Heart's Blood to?” rumbled a voice. “What did you do with her? Come out here, murderer, or we'll rip this trailer open to find you!”

Emma grabbed hold of her bed and pulled herself up onto her feet, then leaned forward to peer out the window. Her heart nearly stopped when she set eyes on the mountain lion pacing outside the trailer, sleek and golden and full of murderous energy. Other huge cats came slinking out the forest and into her yard. Leopards, cheetahs, lynxes, jaguars, panthers, and, right at the back, a small tiger with an oversized head, sticking-out fur, and big, bright eyes. Only one of the cats was small like Jack, a round-bellied gray with long, tufted ears and a thick patch of fur on his chin like a beard. He sat gazing at her calmly, but she knew, somehow, that the weight of his magic was heavier than any of the others'. There were maybe sixteen cats in all. They sat, or paced, or lay down, but all of them, except the tiger, watched the trailer with a hungry intensity, their tails swishing gently over the grass.

“They can't hurt you if you're the Pride-Heart,” Jack hissed. But even so, his back was arched, and his tail had puffed out to twice its normal size.

The mountain lion snarled, and Emma stumbled back from the window. Her knees felt weak and she grabbed at her dresser to keep herself upright. What had she gotten herself into? And here she'd been worrying about her mom killing her. She'd be lucky to live so long!

Then there came a horrible screeching noise. The lion was right outside the window. It held up a massive paw full of wickedly sharp claws and ran them down the side of the trailer. A strip of aluminum peeled away with another screech. The lion was literally going to tear the trailer open to get at them, and there was nothing Emma could do to stop it.

“I thought you said they needed a Pride-Heart to give them magic!” she shouted at Jack.

“If they have any magic, it's coming from you, from the Heart's Blood inside you. It's leaking out without you realizing it. Can you feel anything?” Emma nodded dumbly, remembering the pulling sensation in her gut before she smelled the cats. “That means it's working!” There was excitement in his voice, tinged with something else. Emma was too scared to wonder what it was. “Now get out there and do something. It's no good if the trailer crashes down on us before they even find out what you are!”

Emma swallowed hard, then stumbled out of her room. The movement and all the smells around her made her head swim. She was terrified, but for some reason she couldn't explain she didn't want to run away. Everything felt unreal. She felt light as air and strong as a rock. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to scream.

Instead, she raced through the kitchen, nearly tripping over Jack as he darted between her legs. Glass crunched under her shoes. Emma threw open the front door and jumped over the steps onto the concrete walkway. As she ran, she saw Mr. Simbi's tail disappear into his trailer, heard the door slam shut. She could hear birds high above, the soft swish of wind through the trees. She could smell the grass, the forest, the cats. Their scent seemed familiar to her, somehow comforting, like an old memory at the back of her mind, just out of reach.

But the way they looked at her wasn't comforting in the least. They seemed to be sizing her up, as if she were some kind of rodent, at best a brief, bloody amusement. She opened her mouth to speak just as the mountain lion pounced. For a moment she watched it in mid-leap. It looked majestic. Then it slammed into her, sending her flying face-first into the grass.

Emma rolled over and tried to force air back into her lungs, but two heavy paws planted themselves on her chest. The big cat's breath was hot on her face, and all Emma could look at were long, pointed teeth. Needle-sharp. Sharper than teeth had any right to be.

I'm going to die
, was all she could think, surprised and certain at the same time.

“Where is it? Where's the Heart's Blood? Why do we have magic if there's no Pride-Heart?” the mountain lion growled.

“There has to be a Pride-Heart somewhere,” the strange-eared gray cat said from somewhere nearby. “Since we suddenly have magic again after weeks without it.”

“But it's not very strong,” a leopard said. “I can't even hold my shape!”

“You could never hold a shape for very long anyway,” the gray cat said, dismissively.

Then Emma heard Jack's voice from the metal stairs. “You have your Pride-Heart under your feet, Cricket. You might want to let her up before you accidentally become a Heart-Killer like me and lose all your magic forever.”

The mountain lion yowled, then in one swift motion pounced on Jack. But something was happening. The lion seemed to ripple, like a reflection in a pool of water, and then shrink. The other cats were shrinking, too, changing from the large, wild cats to the small variety. In the half second it took the lion to reach Jack, it had turned into a wiry ginger female, with only the slightest tinge of lion yellow left in her fur.

There was a horrible screeching as the two cats fought and scratched and bit.

“Stop it!” Emma shouted, pushing herself up off the grass.

To her surprise, the lion called Cricket did stop, her gaze whipping around to stare at Emma. Jack took the opportunity to bite the ginger cat's ear, nearly tearing it off. Cricket spat and leaped away, then turned to stare at Emma again. “What is this?” she hissed.

The other cats all stared, too, still and silent except for the small tabby that had been a tiger. He was looking around, confused.

“Leave Jack alone,” Emma said. She spoke slowly, hoping her voice wasn't shaking too much. “I . . . I'm your new Pride-Heart, and that means . . . Jack said you have to listen to me.”

“See? What did I tell you?” Jack laughed. “She was right under your nose the whole time. I gave her the Heart's Blood so she could find her sister. Aren't you glad I saved you from being a Heart-Killer like me, Cricket?”

“The Heart's Blood was supposed to be mine,” Cricket spat angrily. “And a human can't be a Pride-Heart. Give it back.”

“I don't know if she can,” said the gray cat. Emma glanced at him nervously. He walked over to her and sniffed. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

“She's a human, Fat Leon. She can't be a Pride-Heart,” Cricket insisted. “We can kill her and the Heart-Killer Jack, and put an end to all of this.”

None of the cats moved.

“Oh, it's not so bad being a Heart-Killer,” Jack said. There was a bloody gash on his side. He licked it slowly. “You all depend too much on your precious magic anyway. You've forgotten what you can do with just your teeth and claws.”

“A cat's not a true cat without magic,” Cricket spat. “Creatures like you don't deserve to live.” She looked back at Emma. “I don't know what game you think you're playing at, human, but you will never be our Pride-Heart. The Heart's Blood is mine. It's not even working properly. Bits of magic here and there. Pathetic. The sooner your pet Heart-Killer murders you, the better.”

Then she turned and leaped over the fence, disappearing into the forest.

“This is . . . unexpected,” the fat gray cat said to Emma, “but you're just a kitten, aren't you? You need to grow up a bit, learn how to use your magic. Maybe then we'll be back.” He sniffed again, and his tail flicked from side to side once. Then he squeezed through the fence and walked away, casually, like there wasn't any hurry. Or like he was deep in thought. The other cats glanced at each other uncertainly, then followed him.

Only Jack remained, and the small tabby with the crazy fur and the large head. “I've never met a human Pride-Heart before,” he said in a surprisingly loud voice, bouncing up to her, then away again nervously. “I don't mind. I bet you'll be more fun than the last Pride-Heart. She hardly gave me any magic at all!”

Jack hissed and swiped at the air, and the tabby bounded after the others into the forest.

Emma sat on the grass. She was shaking all over. For a few moments she didn't say anything. “Are you okay?” she asked after a while, looking over at Jack.

He stopped licking his wounds for a moment. “I'll be fine. I've had sparrows put up more of a fight. They tasted better, too.”

“I thought you said they'd listen to me,” Emma said.

“I said they
will
listen to you. And that's true, they will. You might have to tear them up a little first, that's all. Nothing to worry about.”

“Right,” Emma muttered. “Cats don't worry about anything. Well, it would be nice if you would worry a little more about telling me when I'm going to be attacked by giant cats. I'll need to clean up all that glass in the kitchen.” She hesitated, looking at the shredded back of the trailer. “I suppose I'll have to tell my mom and dad, sooner or later. I can't keep it a secret if they're in danger.”

But she had no idea how she was actually going to use cat magic and a pride to find Helena. She didn't know where to start.

Jack went back to licking his wounds. “Let me know when you're done cleaning,” he said.

Emma pursed her lips. “Oh, yeah? What're you going to be doing?”

“Sleeping,” Jack said. “And once I'm done sleeping, I'm going to teach you cat magic.”

CRAG FACT OF THE DAY:

“Crags are usually blamed for the appearance of magic forests, but even crags don't know why the forests suddenly spring up the way they do. Of course, some of them might know, and just aren't telling.”

CragWiki.org

“W
hy do you have to teach me in the forest?” Emma asked.

They stood in Emma's backyard. She craned her neck, trying to see past the trees. Even in the middle of the day the forest was dim, the trees and bushes pressed close together. She couldn't see more than a few feet ahead of her. Anything could be hiding out there. There didn't seem to be any paths, either, no way of knowing which way to go. It wasn't like the park her family visited when they went camping, which was tended by rangers and had signs everywhere to guide you. “Can't you just teach me here? Or inside the trailer?”

“I could. But I won't. It wouldn't be right.” Jack paced impatiently. “The forest is a place of magic, which might make this easier. The trailer park has crags in it, but it was still made by humans. Anyway, you're a Pride-Heart, you shouldn't be afraid of anything. Do you want to learn cat magic or not?”

Somehow Emma didn't think that Jack would care that she'd promised her parents she wouldn't go into the forest.
I shouldn't care, either. I'm a Pride-Heart now. I bet Cricket wasn't ever afraid of going into the forest.
She took a deep breath and forced herself forward, following Jack. He crawled under the fence. She climbed over it and hesitated a moment in front of the first tree, reaching out and running her fingers over the bark. It felt like a normal tree, nothing magical about it. She pushed aside the branches and stepped past it.

“There, I'm in the forest,” Emma said, glancing behind her to check she was still in sight of the trailer. “Nothing to it, just a bunch of trees. Now will you teach me?”

“Well, I suppose this is better than nothing,” Jack said. He jumped onto a nearby tree and clawed his way up to the first branch, seven or eight feet off the ground. Then he sat and looked down at her. “Lesson one. Cat magic isn't a trick. It's not just making people think you look different or making them love you. That's faerie magic. Cats only care about real things, and we don't care who loves us.”

“What's wrong with faerie magic?” Emma asked. “At least no one ever calls them crags, even if they are. They're beautiful and rich and they live in fancy apartments in New Downtown. I mean, I've never seen one or anything, but illustrations of them are always all over the newspapers and Helena's magazines. If that's a trick, I wouldn't mind —”

“No.” Jack sniffed disdainfully. “Faeries can make some people see what they want. Don't you ever wonder why there are no photos of them? They make themselves look beautiful, sound beautiful, smell beautiful. It's magic, that's why they can't be photographed. So of course humans fall in love with them. That's why they live in the city while all the other crags live here.”