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Authors: Anne Elisabeth Stengl
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and quiet and dangerous.
At first the cat ignored it. But within a few more paces, it had strengthened until his nose twitched and his tail flicked and his whole cattish being could no longer deny what he was sensing. He could only hope he was mistaken.
âBut when has that ever happened?â he asked himself with typical feline shortness of memory.
He turned and, stepping carefully, pursued a small Path that opened off his regular track. Very soon he found what heâd expected.
âLight of Lumé,â he growled, then sighed heavily. âNot another one.â
Before him lay a circle of white stones that shone out brightly against a bed of dark moss. Even a mortal might have recognized it for a Faerie Circle.
The cat recognized a new gate beginning to open.
From this position, he could not tell exactly where in the Near World it opened to. It could be anywhere. It wasnât completely formed yet, he knew that much for certain. And if precautions were taken, it might never fully form.
One way or another, it would have to be added to his regular patrol. An unguarded gate was dangerous.
âWhere do you lead, I wonder?â the cat mused, sniffing each of the circling stones in turn. Then he hissed and drew back sharply, his nose filled with the aroma of caorann berries. They littered the ground around the Faerie Circle, dozens of them squashed and stamped flat among the stones so that the moss was stained with their juices. No caorann trees grew in this vicinity that the cat could recall. Which meant someone had carried the berries here.
Caorann trees were known for one chief quality: their ability to unravel enchantments.
The perfume of the berries was very light, but once it entered the nostrils, it didnât easily let go. The cat sat for a while, grooming his face as though he could somehow push the smell out of his nose with one white paw. As he groomed, he thought.
Someone had been working enchantments here. Someone whose smell was now hidden by the caorann. Everyone knew that Knights of the FarthestShore patrolled this particular stretch of the Wood, and someone wanted to disguise nefarious doings.
The cat finished grooming and sat quite still, his paws placed delicately before him, his plume of a tail sweeping gently back and forth. His eyes were mostly closed so that one might assume he dozed, but the thin membrane of his third eyelid remained open as he studied the setting from behind long, cattish lashes.
He came to a sudden decision and stood. Trotting back to his regular Path, he hurried on to the closest gate. This appeared to mortal eyes like a pair of young trees with unusually large and twisted roots twining together in vegetal affection.
With a slight shiver of his whiskers, the cat stepped between these two trees and into another world.
It was colder than he expected. And he stood in icy water.
âDragonâs teeth!â snarled the cat and leapt back, scrambling up from the riverâs edge into the brush lining the bank beyond. It had been some time since last heâd passed into this corner of the Near World. The river had been low in its bed then. Now it was swollen, the warmth of summer bringing rushing thaw down from the mountains.
The cat climbed into the shelter of a grove of aspen trees and gazed out across the river, catching his bearings. He recognized the stern face of Gaheris Castle above the tall cliff across the river. A likely enough focus for secret Faerie plots. But from this vantage, the cat could see no sign of a gate opening. Heâd have to venture deeper.
Picking his way downriver, following its flow, the cat reached a place where large boulders offered a crossing. To most looking on, there would seem little point in taking this daring bridge, for the stone cliff on which Gaheris stood rose sheer and forbidding on the opposite shore.
But the cat had been this way once or twice, and he knew more than a few secrets. He sprang from
At first the cat ignored it. But within a few more paces, it had strengthened until his nose twitched and his tail flicked and his whole cattish being could no longer deny what he was sensing. He could only hope he was mistaken.
âBut when has that ever happened?â he asked himself with typical feline shortness of memory.
He turned and, stepping carefully, pursued a small Path that opened off his regular track. Very soon he found what heâd expected.
âLight of Lumé,â he growled, then sighed heavily. âNot another one.â
Before him lay a circle of white stones that shone out brightly against a bed of dark moss. Even a mortal might have recognized it for a Faerie Circle.
The cat recognized a new gate beginning to open.
From this position, he could not tell exactly where in the Near World it opened to. It could be anywhere. It wasnât completely formed yet, he knew that much for certain. And if precautions were taken, it might never fully form.
One way or another, it would have to be added to his regular patrol. An unguarded gate was dangerous.
âWhere do you lead, I wonder?â the cat mused, sniffing each of the circling stones in turn. Then he hissed and drew back sharply, his nose filled with the aroma of caorann berries. They littered the ground around the Faerie Circle, dozens of them squashed and stamped flat among the stones so that the moss was stained with their juices. No caorann trees grew in this vicinity that the cat could recall. Which meant someone had carried the berries here.
Caorann trees were known for one chief quality: their ability to unravel enchantments.
The perfume of the berries was very light, but once it entered the nostrils, it didnât easily let go. The cat sat for a while, grooming his face as though he could somehow push the smell out of his nose with one white paw. As he groomed, he thought.
Someone had been working enchantments here. Someone whose smell was now hidden by the caorann. Everyone knew that Knights of the FarthestShore patrolled this particular stretch of the Wood, and someone wanted to disguise nefarious doings.
The cat finished grooming and sat quite still, his paws placed delicately before him, his plume of a tail sweeping gently back and forth. His eyes were mostly closed so that one might assume he dozed, but the thin membrane of his third eyelid remained open as he studied the setting from behind long, cattish lashes.
He came to a sudden decision and stood. Trotting back to his regular Path, he hurried on to the closest gate. This appeared to mortal eyes like a pair of young trees with unusually large and twisted roots twining together in vegetal affection.
With a slight shiver of his whiskers, the cat stepped between these two trees and into another world.
It was colder than he expected. And he stood in icy water.
âDragonâs teeth!â snarled the cat and leapt back, scrambling up from the riverâs edge into the brush lining the bank beyond. It had been some time since last heâd passed into this corner of the Near World. The river had been low in its bed then. Now it was swollen, the warmth of summer bringing rushing thaw down from the mountains.
The cat climbed into the shelter of a grove of aspen trees and gazed out across the river, catching his bearings. He recognized the stern face of Gaheris Castle above the tall cliff across the river. A likely enough focus for secret Faerie plots. But from this vantage, the cat could see no sign of a gate opening. Heâd have to venture deeper.
Picking his way downriver, following its flow, the cat reached a place where large boulders offered a crossing. To most looking on, there would seem little point in taking this daring bridge, for the stone cliff on which Gaheris stood rose sheer and forbidding on the opposite shore.
But the cat had been this way once or twice, and he knew more than a few secrets. He sprang from
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