The Ninth Life

2 - Carwyn Village

I woke to the sound of creaking, and a rocking, churning motion. I could vaguely hear voices. Slowly, I opened my eyes, then quickly closed them again as my vision was assaulted by an offendingly cheery blue sky and bright sun. As I had realized by now that I was lying on my back, I tilted my head to the side, and this time my gaze met wood paneling. That, paired with the noise and rocking motion convinced me I was in a wagon or cart of some kind.

Slowly, I sat up, and immediately had my suspicion confirmed. I was in the back of a horse-drawn wagon, amid several sacks of what I'm guessing was foodstuffs. I was facing the back of the wagon, and as the wagon rolled along, I saw that it was traveling along an otherwise empty dirt road. To my left, which was also south, going by the sun, there was a large, flat plain, stretching as far as I could see. A dark-looking forest blocked my vision to the right. The road stuck to the edge of the plain, never coming within more than six feet of the edge of the woods.

Where the heck am I? I wondered, and with that, everything that had happened came back to me. Was the vortex thingy a trap set by M.A.D.R.? Was I captured by M.A.D.R.?

I slowly turned around, trying to stay silent, to look at the now-silent owners of the voices I had heard. They didn't look like M.A.D.R. people. From what I could tell sitting right behind them, the older of the two boys was nineteen at least, the younger was maybe fourteen. They both had shorter, sort of sand-colored-but-browner hair and thinner but by no means weak-looking frames. And here's what convinced me that they weren't from M.A.D.R.: the younger of the two had what looked like horse ears sticking out the side of his head.

I decided to risk it.

"Um, excuse me," I said, sticking my head up between them, "do you mind telling me where we are? And maybe who you are and how I got here?"

They both turned to look at me. They both had the same roundish face, same hazel eyes, same splash of freckles across the nose. The only real difference besides looking older on the older one's face was the younger's horse ears.

"Yeah, sure," horse-ear-boy said, jumping from his seat in the front into the bed of the wagon with me. "I'm Xanter, and this is my older brother, Fewl. We're in a wagon, on a road, halfway between Akerwood village and Carwyn village. And, well, we found you unconscious on the side of the road."

"On the side of the..." I trailed off, frowning. "And you're not from M.A.D.R.?"

Xanter shook his head. "What's... Madder, right? I never learned to read too well before the school burned down."

"Not madder. It's separate letters, M-A-D-R. It stands for Mutation and Disfiguration Research facility. They were trying to capture me before... Well, you probably won't believe me here, but before I fell into a portal-thingy and ended up... here I guess."

"A portal thingy?" Xanter repeated.

I nodded. "A portal-thingy."

"A p-"

Fewl interjected. "Yes, Xan. We already established she fell through a portal thingy. First, I want to know, what's your name? And then, why were these M.A.D.R. people trying to capture you?"

I was silent for a moment, deciding if I should give them my real name or not. "I'm... Katt." I decided on a fake name, based off my own oddity. "And because that's what they do. They capture then 'research' people like, well-" I gestured to my ears and tail, then to Xanter's ears.

"Why would they want to research us? Everyone knows what we are."

I was silent for a moment. "Lets just assume that I'm from a world where this-" I gestured to my tail and ears again, "is extremely uncommon and I have no idea what it is."

"Ohhhhh! You mean the cat part? Yeah, that's pretty rare. Actually, I don't think there's been a cat recorded in history since-"

"No! I mean the whole animal thing in general! Normal people don't have animal body parts in America!"

"America?" Xanter gave me a blank look. "Well, anyway, I guess I can answer your question. The people with the animal traits are called Animanea. It's actually pretty common on the fringes of the country, but not in the big cities since the queen doesn't like us."

"Where does it come from?"

He shrugged. "It's not really hereditary. It's just sort of... Random. A freak occurrence of nature."

"And you're not... Hunted by M.A.D.R.?"

"Again, no idea what that is."

"And... Where am I? Last I checked, America didn't have a queen."

"The kingdom, or queendom, rather, of Anicoria. Where's America? And what do you mean doesn't have a queen? Is your king unmarried?"

"Um... America is a country in another world, I guess. It doesn't have a king or queen or ruler. It's lead by a president, who's put there by vote of the people. The Americans."

"Hmm. No, this isn't America, this is Anicoria! If like to visit there sometime. Imagine! A country not led by a king or queen!"

Before I could speak again, Fewl interrupted. "That's all good and well, but we're almost home!"

Xanter and I both scrambled to the front seat. A small village was ahead. The buildings were all wooden, with thatched roofs. The roads were all dirt. Stalls lined the streets, from which rose the aroma of many different delicious foods. The women all wore dresses or skirts, I noted with some apprehension, glancing at my own way-more-comfortable-than-a-dress purple t-shirt and camo cargo pants.

Fewl guided the horse pulling the cart through the streets, and eventually off the main road to a small building with a little shed to she side, presumably for the horse and wagon.

We all jumped out of the wagon, and Xanter grabbed my arm and dragged me to the building, his house I assumed.

"C'mon!" He smiled. "You gotta meet my parents."

Xanter pulled me into the house. Diretly through the door was the main room, a combination of kitchen and dining room. Looking around, the furniture and dated cooking appliances clued me in to what the horse drawn wagon and Fewl and Xanter's clothes hadn't. I had to have been sucked into some sort of medieval time-set world.

Fewl and Xanter's parents further confirmed this. Their mother was standing off to the left wall, at a fireplace, stirring the amazing-smelling contents of a large pot hanging over the fire. Their father was sitting at a hand-carved table, looking at a map. She wore a brown dress and he a loose tunic and homespun cloth pants.

"Hey, Mom, Dad! This is Katt! She's a cat Animanea!" Xanter shouted happily.

They both turned to look at me. My ears and tail twitched under their careful scrutiny.

"Well." The mother gasped slightly. "Yes, yes she is. Come in, child. You two must be hungry."

Xanter nodded and lead me over to the table. A few moments later, a bowl was placed in front of me, full of the delicious smelling stew.

"Thank you, Ma'am." I said to Xanter's mother.

She blushed. "There's no need for that. I'm Carrylin, and this," she gestured to her husband, "is Tyroa."

"Thanks, Carrylin." I smiled. I could get used to this.

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A/N Hey! Look! After some-odd months, another chapter!