The Sign of the Cat by Lynne Jonell

Author:Lynne Jonell
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780805096842
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

CHAPTER 16

The Sea Cave

THE TIGER’S GROWL WAS LOWER and more rumbly than a meow, but it was still recognizably Cat. Even if Duncan had not understood the tiger’s words, the whipping tail and bared fangs sent a message that was impossible to mistake.

A tremor raced up Duncan’s spine, and his hands felt cold. His eyes darted in all directions, searching for escape. The cliffs surrounding the narrow beach were sheer and high as a castle wall, great slabs of rock impossible to climb. There was an opening in the rock face behind the tiger—its den, obviously—but that was all. The cliffs curved around the tiny beach, enclosing it in arms of stone ending in long, rocky points, and beyond the rock was the sea.

At his feet, Fia stirred, and Duncan wondered miserably if the tiger would eat her. She wouldn’t be much more than a mouthful.

The tiger’s ears flattened. He moved into a half crouch, rumbling in his chest.

Fia got unsteadily to her feet. She stared at the tiger, her eyes wide.

Duncan cast a quick glance around. There were no stones nearby to throw; there was only the crate. He wrenched at the slats with his fingers, trying to tear off a piece to use as a weapon. If only he had taken his father’s sword when he had the chance!

The tiger moved slowly forward, his shoulder bones rising and falling in hypnotic rhythm. His intent golden gaze never left Duncan’s head.

Fia’s meow splintered the air. “He’s going to pounce!”

Fear gave Duncan’s hands a sudden, desperate strength, and a jagged piece of wood broke off at last. With unconscious reflex, he fell into his fencing stance: one foot back, his body balanced, and the wooden slat raised like a sword. The words he had been taught to say before every fencing match emerged without thought.

“In the name of the king!” he cried as the tiger leaped.

Everything slowed down strangely. Duncan saw it all in one vivid moment: the clear morning light, the dark cliff, the sharp-edged shadows lying blue on rock and sand; the body of the tiger in midair, white, black, and tawny, every hair tipped with brightness. Then—much too close—open mouth and gleaming fangs, and in the next instant, the tiger rammed into Duncan with the power of a crashing wave. The wooden slat was brushed aside as if it didn’t exist, and Duncan went over on his back, hard. Heavy paws pressed down on his chest. The tiger’s breath was hot and rank on Duncan’s face.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even breathe. Duncan suddenly knew that he did not want his last sight on earth to be the slavering jaws of a tiger. Pinned, helpless, he flicked his eyes to the sky beyond, to a blue so pure it made his heart ache. He waited for the end to come, his heart beating like the wings of a moth.

But the end didn’t seem to be coming. Instead there was a lot of high, furious meowing and low, anxious growling.

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