Grey Stone by Jean Knight Pace & Jacob Kennedy

Author:Jean Knight Pace & Jacob Kennedy [Pace, Jean Knight & Kennedy, Jacob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781733255011
Published: 2019-08-05T22:00:00+00:00

Wittendon had been walking much of the afternoon. He was now very lost. The woods were full of shadows; they shuddered and changed faster than seemed possible. After a few hours of wandering, Wittendon said, “If whatever force that rules this wood wishes to speak to me, it can have the decency to show me the way.”

“It could not have been said better by my mistress herself,” a small voice spoke from a tree.

Wittendon looked up, but could see nothing.

“She is preparing a batch of her finest oatmeal cinnamon crispies as we speak. And of course there’s always the tea. It’s a favorite, even among the cats.” The voice paused and an animal stepped from the shadows and cocked her head at the shocked prince before her. “Of course, normally one of the biggers would have been sent for you, but they are quite busy right now.” The animal leapt from the tree. Wittendon had seen the giant black cat, Ellza, at the council, so the sight of a cat was not entirely shocking. This one, however, was small—no more than a few pounds. Her fur was sleek and gray and it looked as though she could easily fit in the lap of one of the humans.

“A house cat,” Wittendon said in awe. He had seen pictures in his history books—small cats the humans used to keep in their homes or barns to hunt mice and rabbits.

“Hardly,” the animal answered in a purr that sounded like a laugh. “I am a wild cat. There are but few of us left upon the land.”

“A wild cat?” Wittendon asked, almost laughing himself. “Are you not all wild now?”

“Some of us more than others.”

The cat wove itself between Wittendon’s legs as it spoke. “When first hunted by the wolves many of the biggers formed a great band, enlarging the tunnels of the rabbits and foxes on which they preyed, and then hiding themselves therein. By the time my mistress’s mother came to this land, the cats had been mostly forgotten and thus enjoyed a little part of this deepest wood. And then of course when my mistress grew and perfected her craft, they no longer needed to hide, though the tunnels have found good use. But the wilds, we did not settle and hide. We merely transferred from place to place when needed. We are movers, runners, messengers, nomads.”

This cat did not rhyme as Wittendon had heard the large, black cat do, but its voice and words were still like a song. Wittendon found himself shaking his head to keep from feeling entranced.

It was good he did, because without another word, the cat was leaving. Wittendon knew if he wanted to meet the mistress of this animal, he should follow.

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