Chapter 3 Dominion #4
Blacktail waited a long time, but she did not continue. “What?” he said finally.
“No one is certain. The beasts who gathered to witness this thing comprised a vast multitude. When word of Karakaa’s deed reached us, I and others of my order made the journey to the new world.
We searched the memories of those who had been there that night most carefully.
We found no real answers, but I will tell you what little I know.
“When the word went out that he was successful, that he had rid these lands of men, a great cheer went up. Karakaa dipped his wings to salute the throng below. He circled the town one final time, then turned to the north to begin his exile.
“Just before he vanished from sight, the moon came down to Karakaa.”
“What?” Blacktail barked.
The Old Kitty Mother swished her tail. “I know how it sounds. But those who saw it are in complete agreement, though like you, many found it difficult to take in at first. The moon came down from the sky and went to Karakaa. As it came closer, it grew hard to look at, dazzling. The intensity was too much to bear. Most turned away. But the crow whom Karakaa had chosen as his successor was also a sorcerer, and not without skill. He adjusted his mind, and was able to see a little. It is from him that we receive this final image, scant as it is. It is the last that anyone ever saw of Karakaa the Great. Look.”
Blacktail turned to the north. His eyes were stung by a great white light, but he squinted into it and bore the pain for a moment.
“Look away now, Blacktail,” the Old Kitty Mother said. “It will serve no purpose for you to blind yourself.”
“What was that?”
“I do not know. No one does. I have my suspicions, but I would prefer to hear your thoughts before I share them with you. Could you make out anything?”
“I could see nothing,” Blacktail said. “It was too bright.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Neither could anyone else. More than one went blind trying.” But her shoulders slumped a bit as she said this, and her tone was disappointed.
“There was a smell, though.”
She perked up. “Oh? What smell?”
“Feathers.”
“He was a crow, Blacktail.”
“I know that,” Blacktail rumbled. “But this was not the scent of a crow. It seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Perhaps a dove?”
The Old Kitty Mother stared at him, her green eyes cold and unreadable as the deepest sea. “Indeed? How interesting.”
“What was it?”
“Truly, I do not know.”
“No?” Blacktail rumbled. He had had his fill of mystery and unanswered questions. “Then tell me, Mother, what do you suspect?”
The Old Kitty Mother looked at him a long time before answering.
“It is the opinion of my coven, and of me, that the dominion of man is protected by something greater than is commonly known. Others have struck bargains like that of Karakaa over the years. They came to similar ends. I myself once considered doing something of the kind. There are spells of great power, great ferocity. Some are enough to end the works of man, or at least thwart them greatly.”
“Yet you choose not to act. Why?”
She looked away. “Perhaps it is simply that I lack the strength of Karakaa. Perhaps I hide my cowardice behind a mask of caution,” she said softly.
“But I believe that all such attempts are doomed. The dominion of man cannot be challenged, not by us. In all of creation, there is only one with the strength to save us.” She turned back to him.
“Blacktail, will you help me find the Forest God?”
iii
Blacktail stared at her, horrified. “Why on earth would I do a thing like that?” He looked around him. “Wait. We’re not in that dream thing anymore, are we?”
Anki and Enki shared a look that could only have meant Bumpkin. But neither thought it wise to speak.
Her plea complete, the Old Kitty Mother got her feet under her and rose slowly. “Yes,” she said. “We have returned.”
“But how—Never mind.” Blacktail stood, shook out his fur.
“With respect, that seems like the most”—he glanced at the cougars—“um, questionable idea I’ve ever heard.
I don’t know much about gods, but from what I’ve heard they’re even worse than men.
What if this Forest God is cranky when He wakes up?
Have you thought of that? Do you really want him running about…
smiting things…and—and sending plagues? Such like that?
I don’t know about you, but I’ve got about all the trouble I can stand at the moment. ”
“You ask fair questions,” she said. “I’ll admit there is risk.”
“Then why—”
“I have sent others to seek Him before, you know.”
“You have?”
She swished her tail. “Oh yes. Several times. A shark, several tigers, even a rat once. They all came to bad ends.”
“Well, there you go.”
The Old Kitty Mother settled back on her haunches with a wince. “And yet, they chose to go. Why do you think that is?”
“I’ve no idea,” Blacktail said. “Were they daft?”
“Because they were like you, Blacktail. That is what drew my eye to them. Each beast had learned for himself the lessons of men, as we all learn them. But these were different. When their understanding was complete, they rose up and killed those who had done them offense.”
“Even the rat?”
“Do you know of bubonic pla—Never mind. Point being, killing men was never so common as you might think, even before gunshots. Now?” She shrugged. “I had almost given up hope. I’m old, you know. There were never any guarantees.”
Blacktail shook his head. “I—Forgive me, Mother, but I don’t understand. I’m very flattered, but what does it have to do with the Forest God?”
“Tell me, Blacktail, what was it that finally made you enter House? You might have found another mate, you know. Was it the death of your litter? If that’s all it was, I might point out—with respect—that you yourself have killed your share of others’ young.”
Blacktail’s eyes narrowed. “I do not wish to think of that night.”
“I am afraid,” she said, “that I must insist.” Her stare was cold. Behind her, the cougars snarled happily.
Blacktail dipped his head slightly, showing submission.
“Very well.” He thought for a long time before answering.
When he spoke, his voice was a cold rumble.
Courtesy was forgotten. “It was not the killing,” he said.
The words inched out of him as if he were giving birth.
“Not in itself. As you say, killing is a part of life. It was the way in which it was done. If they had come to my hill as hunters, even if she…they…still died…that would have been hard. But it would not have been…”
He shook his head, unable to find the words. “But instead men used their magic. It wasn’t for the hunt. I have no idea what was done to Renren, or to my puppies, or…”
“Or why?” she suggested.
“Yes. Precisely. Why? They did not kill for food, or to protect their young or their lands.” His fur was up now, prickly. His eyes blazed. “What they did to me was a sin against the hunt. It was an abomination.”
The cougars shared a nervous glance.
The Old Kitty Mother purred happily. “Do you think,” she said, “that the Forest God might feel this way as well?”
The sound of her voice seemed to startle Blacktail. He looked up at her and blinked, still lost in his memory. But after a moment he answered. When he did, his tone was more polite. “I cannot say. I would not presume to know the mind of God.”
The Old Kitty Mother’s purr faded. “That is very wise of you,” she said gently. “But perhaps we could at least ask Him. Don’t you think?”
Blacktail wagged his tail once, then again. “Perhaps.”
“You’ll do it, then?”
Blacktail settled back on his haunches. He scented the air of this wild place.
His belly was full of rabbit. Earlier, when the wind was just so, I thought I smelled a wolf.
More than one, even. It might have been my imagination…
but then again it might not. He opened his mouth, searching his scant knowledge of courtesy for the most polite way to say no.
At that moment the Old Kitty Mother tensed, staring at something over his shoulder.
Blacktail turned to follow her gaze and saw a light moving fast and straight through the sky.
Reflexively, he crouched low to avoid being seen.
The fox’s words came back to him then: Quite a different experience on this side of the hunt.
The thing in the sky, whatever it was, gave no indication of noticing him.
But now he saw the lights of men on the other side of the mountain.
Not near…but not that far, either. Blacktail sighed again. The “no” died unspoken on his tongue.
“Do you really think I might find Him?” Blacktail asked. “Be honest. I don’t know anything about these other beasts you mentioned, but you’re wrong about me. I’m nothing special.”
“That’s not true. Your skill at the hunt is without equal. You might surprise yourself.”
Blacktail shook out his fur. “If you say so,” he said. “But it is no little thing to wake a sleeping god.”
“No,” the Old Kitty Mother agreed, and her cold gaze never wavered. “It would take a beast whose will was strong beyond measure.”
“An idiot might do just as well,” Blacktail said, meeting her stare.
“Yes,” she said. “Perhaps.”
After a moment Blacktail looked away. He pawed at the earth, turned a few times, then lay down.
“Let us say that I were to do this thing. I know the ways of rabbits and moose well enough, but there were few gods to be found on my hill. I’ve no doubt I’ll know Him when I see Him, but I’m a little vague on where to start looking. ”
“What would you have me tell you?” the Old Kitty Mother asked.
“Well, for starters, what does He smell like? What sort of den might he build? What sort of tracks should I look for?”
The Old Kitty Mother used her tail to brush away this nonsense as well. “It is not like that. The Forest God may sometimes choose to work his will through his creatures or even speak through them, but He is no more a creature than a claw is a wolf.”
“A place, then?” Blacktail asked.