Cat's Eye

Chapter 1

The Cat lay in waiting.

His golden eyes were bright as the full moon above, and his powerful limbs tucked tight to his chest, the sharp points of a crystal and gold necklace curled around his neck like living ivy. The weight of such a thing pressed in, the gilded chain winding through the layers of his shaggy black fur, and pinched the back of his neck. But he ignored it. His lips parted to flood his burning lungs with fresh air, his head snapped back and forth, both ears stretching so high that the muscles ached.

They were coming.

Chasing him through the grass and into the woods, their metal armor gleaming like beetle shells in the light, and their horses snorting fire and smoke. The Cat didn't need to look over his shoulder, he knew that his lordship, King Reginald Drollas Otho was following close behind. The hunter pursued his prey, along with his team of loyal servants, like every other magical creature in this land. In his mind's eye, the Cat could see the ferocious snarl wrinkling a broad ruddy face, the sword flashing silver at his hip, and the chain mail gloves stained crimson from his mistress's blood.

The King's sole intent was to rid this land of magic, one sport hunt at a time. As proven by the Unicorn head that hung over his dining table, the werebear cloak he wore, and the dragonskin throne that he sat on. The cat himself had heard tales of his fallen brethren, the familiars of witches and wizards, who had been skinned and sewn together into a rug for the king's fireplace. But for 26 years, the Cat and his mistress had hidden in plain sight. Living in a nearby village as a harmless baker and her pet, they had avoided detection for so long, but now it had all ended. Thanks to an overdone bread loaf and a broken tooth.

When the ache in his lungs had eased, the Cat slid forward in a low crouch. Taking care not to make a sound as he weaved between grass higher than his head. The dampness from the dew soaked into his legs and stomach, weighing down his feet until every step squished water between his toes. He hated this feeling and the knots that would follow. Those would take forever to chew out or comb out, but that was assuming he would have time to take care of those himself. And that he even had a life at all.

As he passed, a small bunch of white flowers drooped their petals his way. Each one was shaped like a fresh tear, their thin green stalks were no thicker than some long pasta he'd seen, and the Cat lifted his nose to brush it along the edge. Sweet, like sugar. Those Moondrops were his mistress's favorite flower and a fresh wave of grief bit deep into his chest. A low hiss slithered through clenched teeth, the Cat shook himself all over and kept going, bounding over rock and log alike.

The necklace jingled merrily, like his little toy bell when he gave it a good swat, but this was no bell. The everlasting source of her magic channeled through crystals and gold, no one could know that his mistress has fastened it around his neck, and begged him to ruin. Fat tears sparkling in her warm eyes, and her lower lip trembling in time with her hands, she was smiling when she threw him out the window of their shop. Even blowing a kiss through the air before the entire building had gone up in flames. The blood oath he'd sworn to her now was gone, broken into shards of jagged glass, and each one sliced at his very being with every breath.

And now, after disposing of the cat's mistress, The King was hunting the cat.

I won't let your death be in vain, mistress! The cat thought to himself as he plunged down a wooded slope, the leaves surrounding him rustling softly in welcome as they brushed against his coat. The black barked trees and waving limbs reached out, trying to catch the cat with skeletal hands as he fled, but to no avail. Even tired and sore, his body twisted like the wind, his tail streaming tall and proud behind him, and his heart slamming against his chest was echoed by the necklace's bouncing. There was a path ahead, or so he thought as the trees closed in around his head. The branches interlocked so tight that the moonlight couldn't pierce through. The darkness dragged cool fingers along his spine, encouraging him on as his whiskers stiffened, his senses on high alert to everything, including the drone of hoofbeats behind him.