I turn to Conner. “Conner, you talked to Kioto once. Can you tell Cheeto to stay?” He nods, then speaks to Cheeto. Amazingly, she sits.
As everyone moves forward toward the pulley, I hold Leon back. “Leon, how is Ladimer?”
“Let
’s just say that, for the time being, he is fine. We will make his last few hours ‘comfortable’ for him,” says Leon. “He knew better than to cross Socola’s border. He played his own fate for the worse, but I must say he is cooperating rather well for a man on a death walk.”
“That
’s nice to hear,” I grunt. Of course, my hope is that we will
all
get out of here alive.
Cheeto sits and waits patiently, her head on the ground. I wave at her, and she closes her eyes as though taking a nap, and rolls over on her back with her legs sticking straight up in the air.
“Let’s go, my lady.” Leon leads us toward the party.
Chapter 42
Sufferable
Once we
’re up the pulley, the walk to the main ballroom is lengthy, considering we’re only walking through tree canopies. But the place is bustling, and there are plenty of cats who stop us on our way, giving us yummy treats and presents. I watch Gunthreon as he continues checking on me over his shoulder. As I lag behind the group a bit, a rather old soul emerges out of one of the smaller, older, sturdier huts and stops right in front of me, nearly knocking me down. I then recognize him as the older, gray-haired elephant trainer. He grabs my hand and places into it a trinket, then turns and slips back into his hut.
When I open my hand, it contains a pendulum, much like the one
I lost in my first battle with the meeple. Upon close examination, I see the pendulum is a beautifully carved woman with a stunning, flowing head of hair, a furry creature at her side. It seems to be made of a colorless crystal or stone of some sort, almost perfectly clear and flawless. As I hold it, wonderful thoughts of my childhood come flooding back to me—things I forgot about through the years: thoughts of my mom and of laughing so hard we couldn’t breathe, like the time my mom served Amber a plate of rubber chocolate candy and how after picking one, she continued to gnaw on an especially delicious looking piece until my mom and I were hysterical with laughter. Then, this vision morphs into a time when I’m much younger, and my mom is smiling at someone standing, looking over me as I pretend to sleep. I am peeking through slit eyes as I see a figure, hugging my mother tightly.
I wipe a tear which
falls down my cheek and suddenly, I think I feel movement in my hand, waking me from my thoughts. I look at the pendulum again, but it’s lifeless; only the eyes seemingly follow my moves.
I turn back to knock on the door of the hut, but see the
old cat snuff out the lamplight inside. I tuck the pendulum into my pocket alongside my father’s ring. They seem to chime when they touch.
“Kailey, we must keep up,” cluck
s Gunthreon as he startles me, touching my shoulder. Gunthreon’s nervous energy wipes away my blissful thoughts. We continue onward as I touch my tokens inside my pocket.
Leon holds back next to me as Lupa and Conner walk ahead of us, admiring the trees and whispering to each other. Lupa giggles and grabs his arm and they continue arm-in-arm, walking and soaking in the scenery.
I tighten up a bit as Leon sneaks a peek at me. “They are friendly, aren’t they?” he whispers. “And you don’t like it, I can sense it.”
“I can
’t lie to you. Yes,
she’s
a bit too friendly.” We watch as Lupa lets her hair down and it rolls over Conner’s arm.
“She may have seen many a moon
, but she is captivating in her own way,” Leon hums. As Conner turns around toward us, Leon grabs my hand. I see Conner’s jaw clench and Leon then squeezes my hand. Gunthreon moves forward to Lupa and Conner separates himself, turning to Jenna and picking her up as we walk on. I let go of Leon’s paw.
The very large and elaborate ballroom is unmistakable as we ascend even further into the sky, on another pulley. Beautiful, serene music reaches our ears as we reach the last step to the entrance.
Just before Leon puts his hands on the extremely large and heavy door, a scream rises to our ears, making the once wonderful music suddenly haunting. I recognize the voice and scream, “Ladimer!” The agony imprisoned in that one scream is enough to drive one crazy.
Leon hesitates before opening the door. “Your friend is all right,” he says. “He
’s just being questioned by our leading inquisitor. Ladimer will be joining us for dinner, so you may say your last words to him before dessert.” Leon’s tone is emotionless, which matches his energy field. I wonder what kind of life these mooncats are living. I look up at their moon, and it shines as brightly as ever, daring onlookers to stare too long.
I move next to Bu and grab his hand, because we both need the comfort. “We
’re just going in to enjoy a little party and do what we need, and then we’ll leave,” I say to Bu. “You will never have to come here again.”
“They
’re hurting Ladimer. What are they doing to him?”
“Ladimer is a giver. He can heal himself,” I say. “Stop worrying about him, Bu. Let
’s just try and keep together and remember to watch each other’s back, okay?” His shaking lessens and I feel his nervous energy retreating. “I love you, Bu.”
“Love you, too.”
Leon opens the door, and the lobby practically knocks me on my butt. It’s filled with flowers of every species imaginable, and the scent floating on the air tickles my nose. Lupa, enthralled, stops to smell each and every one as she walks through. “Wow. I didn’t even know they could grow these,” she mumble. “They have to be imported.” While Leon is busy talking to Gunthreon, Lupa pulls a small, white flower off the stem, and the petals shiver, then flap like butterfly wings. She wraps it in a wet towel she miraculously pulls out of her everything pack.
“Why don
’t you just pull out your backyard and plant it while we’re walking?” I tease.
“You
’re just jealous. You have no idea how much that seed I just pulled off is worth. If I can grow these at home, I’ll buy you a summer home in Meadow’s Edge. We could be neighbors.” She makes me smile, and my mind wanders to Meadow’s Edge, but unfortunately, that leads to my mom, yet again, and guilt creeps over me for not being home, watching over her. Lupa, seeing my sadness, grabs my arm and squeezes gently.
The next doors we approach are intricately carved, and standing next to them is an older, silver-haired cat, who seems to be carving something into the door. Thoroughly involved in his work, he does not pay us one iota of attention.
Studying the pictures on the door from left to right, they seem to be a historical and artful rendition of the mooncats’ journey in time. My heart skips a beat, however, as I reach the work in progress. It’s clearly a picture of Ladimer kneeling head-down before Michel, who holds a rather large sword over Ladimer’s head, ready to strike with all his might. I gasp.
Conner works his way over to me. “Be strong for him,” says Conner. “Stick to the plan.”
“Leon is staring at us,” I whisper. Conner looks up and soulspeaks in his direction.
Leon nods. “I understand,” he says. “He was one of your traveling companions
—one of your pack. You’ll see him soon.”
Lu
pa then sneaks a peek at me as she says, “Conner, you know that soulspeak of yours is absolutely spellbinding. You can whisper in my ear anytime.”
Stick to the plan, Kailey
. “How ‘bout you keep your comments to yourself, Lupa.”
“How about you learn to share, my friend,” she
taunts. I lurch forward as Conner holds me back.
“Come on, girls, you mustn
’t fight.” Gunthreon puts his hand on Lupa’s shoulder. “Let Ladimer’s last few hours be ones of peace.” Lupa and I exchange our best pre-girlfight faces.
The artist steps aside. “Welcome to our ballroom,” says
Leon, opening the door.
The room beyond is the largest I have ever seen—big enough to hold at least a hundred elephants, if need be. There are circus acts everywhere, and mountains of food, with diligent servers working each table.
One section of the room is decorated in black, and my eyes are drawn to the walls. An endless array of whips and chains and nameless items hang in neat rows, just within arm’s length of a rather large masked cat, who appears to be deciding which whip he wants to take down next.
On a chair next to him, I see a human male sitting with his back to us—not Ladimer. Other cats stand around the man, clearly enjoying the show. When I turn to Gunthreon, he motions zipping his mouth shut.
Jenna’s eyes focus on the several large, over-the-top-muscled cats standing at each entrance. The word “juggernaut” pops into my head. “Why the guards?” Jenna’s question is directed at Leon.
“We wouldn
’t want any unexpected visitors ruining our fun, now, would we?” responds Leon. This leaves an unpleasant feeling in my stomach.
As Leon leads us around, I see a head table at the front of the room, with Michel seated in the middle and Nayla at his side. Her head is down, and I see a fresh wound near her ear.
I sneak next to Gunthreon. “Did you see Nayla?” I ask. He nods. “Something is very wrong here.”
“Glad we
’re in agreement.”
Leon leads us to the table closest to the head table. There are seats for each of us, and even a large, Bu-sized
chair. Next to Jenna’s place seating, they have placed small pillows on the table for her to sit upon.
As we planned, Gunthreon tells Leon that Lupa and I should be separated so that he may keep his sanity.
Leon grins and whispers, “Of course. Please, make yourself comfortable, and your servers will be with you shortly. I hope you enjoyed the walk through our village. If you need me, I’ll be seated at the table over there, near the door.” Leon bows, then goes to join his table, but not without first sneaking me a wink.
The numerous cats captivate us with their diversity and ability to eat large quantities of meat in single bites. For the moment, they all seem to be involved in their food, only sneaking brief peeks at us.
Michel, however, is a different story. He is motionless, and his eyes are
glued
to us. Nayla briefly sneaks a glance in my direction. I risk a sly smile to her, hoping she recognizes it as a response to her need for help. She immediately looks down toward the table.
Then, Michel stands up and reaches for a bell next t
o his plate. He rings it loudly and silence immediately fills the room. “Thank you, everyone, for joining in this celebration,” he says. “We have very special guests today, as you may see.” He holds out his paw in our direction, and the cats look quickly, then return their eyes to Michel. The tension in the room doesn’t match the expressions in the room and I sneak a glance at Gunthreon. I reach a feeler toward one cat in particular. As I dig into its energy layers, searching for something, it suddenly hisses at the cat nearest it. A guard tromps heavily to the table and both cats sink back into their seats. I quickly withdraw.
Michel continues with his speech. “Please enjoy as much food as your bellies will take, and as much conversing as your mouths, and
others’ ears,
can take.” A handful of the cats laugh, while others clench their jaws in silence.
“Lastly, as you may all know by now—I know how word travels fast—we have an extra-special guest, one with much history connected to our race. Each and every one of us has grown up with whispers
of his name in our ears, and have been told numerous bedtime stories that brought us countless nightmares,
but
we must all thank him for the one gift he has given us: birth. He is truly a miraculous creature, and he deserves at least that.”
Michel motions to another juggernaut, who moves from his position at the door. The door opens, and two cats lead Ladimer into the room, holding his bound arms. He is naked, save for a newly acquired, and still bloody, snow leopard
’s hide. My eyes widen and I immediately reach to him with my feeler, but Gunthreon shakes his head at me. I withdraw it, almost immediately.
Ladimer does not seem to be hurt, and I feel relieved, until he lifts his head and reveals his once-beautiful face. There are deep, dark wells of purple skin under his eyes, and his mouth droops as though plagued by Bell’s palsy. His eyes tear, and it looks as though he has aged twenty years. My eye
s well up, and I try my hardest to keep the tears inside. But when Ladimer looks at me, the pain inside my chest screams so loud I turn to Bu, who seems to have winced at the same time. My guilt for essentially sacrificing Ladimer forces me to gather my emotions and churn them into something usable. Determination. Determination to hold up long enough to continue with our plan.
“Please seat him
at our head table, near me,” requests Michel. Ladimer is pushed down into his chair with a mighty shove and slap to the face. Conner makes a slight move to stand, but Gunthreon stops his further movement with a head shake. Michel smiles at Ladimer. “Everyone, I am pleased to bring before you, your creator, our father, Ladimer the Giver.” He begins clapping, and it seems nobody knows what else to do but clap along with him. The clapping dies slowly, and Michel sits, whispering in Ladimer’s ear God only knows what, most likely bent on crushing Ladimer’s hopes. Ladimer’s eyes rise to Gunthreon, who stares back at him, giving him the slightest of nods. Ladimer then begins speaking to Michel, engaging him in some form of conversation, keeping his head down in mock submission. Michel eats it up.
Our servers work our table quickly, bringing us numerous plates of food, but none of us seems able to even think about eating. After a dollop of what looks like mashed potatoes is thrown on his plate, Gunthreon turns to me and says, “Kailey, Conner and I are going to have a few ‘conversations’ with some guests, so you and everyone else just sit and go with the flow.” As a server walks by, he stands up and puts his arm around the cat. All I hear is, “I wo
uld highly recommend that you...” as they walk to the next table. Michel seems too caught up in his favorite guest even to notice what anyone else is doing.