Chapter 1
Orion stood on a ridge overlooking the city. As he swayed, exhausted and hungry, the threads of its winding, dirty streets seemed to tighten around his neck in a noose that limited both breath and freedom.
His sister, Sekhmet, nuzzled him with her black nose. "Lost in thought?"
"Wishing you'd waited a year or so to haul me away from the good life."
"We thought we'd better get on the road before you wore out your equipment, Mr. Tomcat Stud."
Orion's other sister, Bast, trotted toward them, her white fur gleaming in starlight. "We've come to the right place. The pull is strong."
"Praise the Many-Taloned One," Sekhmet said. "My paws are killing me."
The lights of the city flickered in eye-burning imitation of the starry sky. "It's not going to be easy," Orion said. "The smell alone makes me gag. It's not just the physical stench, but also the foul odor of self-righteousness and fear. And some of the fear is mine. I've never failed before."
Sekhmet raised her ears. "It's hard to fail when you mount a willing cat. I'm glad you realize you're facing a far bigger challenge. It gives me hope that you've become something more than a swaggering young tom. She of the Rough Tongue is molding you into the cat you were always meant to be."
"I don't know about Her rough tongue, but I've never doubted yours."
Bast growled softly. "Enough. Orion, you have to guide us now."
Panic bristled his fur. "I don't know; I can't feel anything."
Bast scraped her claws against a flat stone. "Then ask to feel. Have you forgotten you were chosen for more than shining fur and golden eyes?"
"And equipment," Sekhmet said.
He turned his back on them and washed himself briskly to hide his shame. Any cat could find the guidance of the Long-Whiskered One, but Orion's ability to sink into a trance had separated him from the other males of his generation and guided his reluctant paws to this cold, windy, hilltop. How could he forget the first lesson all kittens learned? When you got lost, She would always nudge you home.
Orion closed his eyes and began to meditate on golden fur and eyes. The rasp of Her tongue shivered through him, massaging away the tension that had tightened his limbs, clearing away the resistance and fear that had hidden his path, and even temporarily blurring the memory of well-fed, sleek females.
The way became clear, but one final moment of doubt kept him in place. "Are humans worth our sacrifice?"
"Not yet, they aren't," Bast said, "but we're weaving a dream."
Orion loped down the hill, praying that the gathering strands wouldn't knot into a noose.
* * *
Emerald rubbed against the rough wood of the grain warehouse floor, howling in agony.
"If you keep carrying on like that, every tom in the city is going to knock at the door," Misha said.
"You talk as if it never happened to you, old lady. You know some magic to scratch the itch, tell me."
"No magic, child. It's a queen's way to want kittens and a tom's way to know when she wants them. Neither of them looks at the big picture. That's why this city is filled with half-starved cats too weak to run away from humans."
Emerald shuddered. Her mother, Hester, had been one of the victims, taken away with Emerald's littermates. "Could have been me."
"Could have been. If you hadn't been such a mischief-maker, climbing to the top sack of grain that terrible night, you wouldn't be flicking your tail and shuffling your hind legs right now. You want your own kittens to be drowned or tortured? That why you want to bring them into this sorry slum? The world is cruel to a cat and her kittens, except in the Green."
