Teddycats (10 page)

“It's from my mom,” Bill said.

“Thank her for me,” said Freddy.

“I will,” said Bill. “If I ever see her again. You know, I think you guys would really like my mom. I think you'd really hit it off.”

“Maybe,” said Doris. “But it's getting late. You should go while you still have some light.”

LUKE MADE THEM
a map out of berry juice and sun-dried fronds, and the crew set off toward the human den. But despite the brief rest, Bill's pace had slowed down to something closer to that of his older companions.

“You did your best, Bill,” Felix said, not for the first time.

“I just . . .” Bill said, then trailed off with a sigh.

Conflicting emotions battled in his chest. Obviously he was relieved that Luke was okay, but he still wished he had been able to convince the Olingos to join their fight then and there. Sometimes it seemed like wherever he went, there were Elders standing in the way, stubbornly refusing to admit that the world was changing and their old ways no longer worked. Add to that the news of Jack's fate, plus the heat, general jungle fray, and the wispy width of the path they were following, and Bill was having real problems placing one paw ahead of the other, much less rushing.

Suddenly, Omar let loose a high-pitched scream. “There's something in my pack!”

Diego jumped into action. “Stand very still,” he said, slowly approaching Omar. He held his walking stick in front of him like a sword.

“I felt it squirm! I think it's a snake!” Omar yelled. He began spinning in wild circles. “A whipsnake! No, wait, a bushmaster! Help!”

“I
said
freeze!” Diego said. “Quit flappin' about!”

Reluctantly, Omar froze. Diego inched forward, ears straight back, then jabbed the stick into Omar's pack.

“Ow!”

Omar screamed, winced, and commenced running in circles as his bindle unfolded.

“Stop!” Bill shouted, a smile breaking his face. “It's not a snake!”

A pair of scraggly ears poked out of Omar's bindle, and then out popped a whole head. It was Luke, smiling with a mouthful of figs.

“Did you really think I was going to let you guys go without me?” he said.

Bill helped him out of the bindle, and everyone—except Omar, still recovering from his snake anxiety—greeted Luke warmly.

A party of five, they resumed their travels. Luke regaled them with the noisy drama surrounding his bold insistence on leaving the family den.

“I stood up and said, ‘Mom, Dad, I'm outta here!
Like it or not. It's time to rewrite Teddycat–Olingo history!'”

“Wait a minute,” Bill said. “Are you sure you didn't sneak out, then hide in Omar's bindle for the last half a klick until Diego poked you with a branch?”

“I guess that's about right,” Luke sniffed. “Anyways, you're welcome.”

Omar was still catching his breath and trying to act casual, but Diego was unembarrassed by his vigilance. In fact, Bill thought he seemed disappointed that there hadn't been a snake strapped to Omar. But nevertheless the atmosphere was still buzzing with danger, as ever-present and tangible as the humidity, as species clashed amid a constantly shifting food chain. And maybe it wasn't the snake—or lack of a snake—that had Diego still on edge. He and Jack had been through a lot together, and Bill knew how much it had to hurt Diego to learn that he was probably gone.

“I liked what you were saying back there about Horizon Cove,” Felix said to Luke.

“Aye, that was good stuff, kid,” Diego said.

“Thanks,” said Luke, bopping along now.

“And I think you're right,” Felix said. “I think we
can
find it again.”

“Where'd you learn all that stuff anyways?” Omar asked.

“Different places,” Luke said. “Some of it from Bill.”

“Yeah, that was good stuff, Luke,” Bill said,
trying to deflect any attention—or follow-up questions—Luke's praise might attract. “I almost felt like I was really there, prying my way through the ravine. Say, wanna give me a hand with my pack?”

“Quit trying to off-load your responsibilities, Bill,” said Omar.

“Hey, Omar,” Bill said, “there's something on your neck.”

Omar started hyperventilating again, and when everybody laughed, since there was nothing
actually
there, he relaxed into a scowl.

Bill looked up. Light trickled through the canopy. Best he could tell, it was early afternoon. He could still hear the distant grumble of rushing water that had been accompanying them for quite some time, which at least provided a constant, a North Star. Every few minutes it seemed to grow louder.

“So first we go back to where Elena was taken, the same place you were taken, Luke, then find the humans from there, right?” Bill asked.

“Huh?” said Luke. “I know the way from my den, that's about it.”

“I thought your map had us following the trail from the clearing!” Bill said. “Didn't the human take you straight from the trap to the camp?”

“But I don't remember much of that trip . . .” Luke confessed. “I was scared. Everything was a blur. And there was a giant leaf or something draped over the cage!”

Bill stopped. The others followed his lead, and they all stood there in an uneven, rumpled circle. Dragonflies and other winged beasts circled their heads. Every now and then the scent of deep rot would pass through, an unwelcome reminder of the jungle's bottomless capacity to absorb life. Felix wiped grime from his face. His expression was pained but still doggedly patient.

“What is our best chance of finding the camp?” asked Felix.

“It's a straight shot from my den,” said Luke.

“So we are headed in the wrong direction,” said Felix.

“I'm sorry,” Luke said, still confused. “I thought you guys knew where you were going.”

Bill and Omar groaned. Diego bit his tongue, then spat blood on the ground.

“That was the whole point of going to your den in the first place!” Bill shouted.

“Oh, you're right, Bill,” Luke said. “This is my fault. Here I was, thinking you visited my den to make peace with my family and offer your condolences because mere minutes ago you thought I was good as dead. But I guess it was all about
you
, as usual.”

“A simple misunderstanding,” Felix said, snuffing out the argument before Bill could fire back. “But now we will need to make excellent time in order to double back and still scout the area by nightfall.”

“So we're really turning around?” Omar said. “We can't cut through?”

“You heard him. Turn it around,” Diego said. “Clamp it and get to marchin'.”

Omar dropped his snout to the ground and wheeled around wordlessly.

“Just be happy we figured this out when we did,” Felix said. “Every little bit of time we save counts.”

Bill groaned loud and long. “From now on, every step we take, I'm just going to be thinking about the time we wasted.”

“At least it'll look familiar,” Omar said.

“That's the spirit,” said Felix.

“Jeez, Bill,” Luke said. “My mom was right, you're
so
grown up
.”

THE SKY TURNED
plum-colored as the jungle fell into twilight. There was a volley of baleful moans as the moon rose. Daytime bugs cleared out to make room for the heavier, glowing nighttime bugs. It had been a long, largely silent afternoon as they retraced their steps.

The mission was not going as planned. They didn't bother disturbing the (admittedly confused) Olingos when they passed the den again, though Luke waved half-heartedly. Bill had been gritting his teeth so hard that his jaw would be sore by dinnertime. They would have to make camp and renew the search in the morning. It felt like time was slipping away, along with their chances.

He felt better after they settled down by a large, ferny stump and shared a rustle of grubs. The moon was low and fat, throwing soft silver on everything it touched. But it didn't touch everything, not way down in the underbrush, and it was hard for Bill to ignore
the ceaseless squawks, rattles, and flickers. Harder, at least, than during the day. It made Bill realize just how groomed and well-managed the Kingdom had been. Cloud Kingdom, where everything had its place and everything had a name, as quiet and smooth as a mountain pond. Bill realized that, if their mission truly succeeded, there would be ripples, waves, wakes. He would need to become much more comfortable with the unknown and the darkness, real quick.

Somehow, Bill slept. His dreams were tense and chaotic: Versions of Maia, Elena, and Jack, his parents and the Elders—even Freddy and Doris, arguing over a few clumps of sweetmoss—slipped through his subconsciousness like pawfuls of sand.

When he woke it was hot and bright, banners of blue sky between swaying limbs cackling like wind chimes. The jungle hum was friendlier, if still not exactly welcoming. Bill rubbed his eyes and yawned widely. It was one of those mornings, inside and out, that held the promise of a fresh beginning. The air was pungent, rich, and loamy. The jungle was so alive, so flowing and loaded, there was no way to imagine life outside of it.

As usual, Diego was on watch, diligently surveying the perimeter. He didn't trust anyone else to do the job. Bill brought him breakfast—berries and bark, nothing fancy, but still sure to be appreciated.

“Morning, Diego,” Bill said, handing him the small meal.

“Thanks, mate,” said Diego. He picked at Bill's offering, distracted by his duty. “How'd you sleep?”

“Pretty well.”

“Sure sounded that way. You were snoring up a racket.”

“What? No I wasn't!”

Bill didn't snore. Snoring was for old, wheezy Teddycats like Omar's father. Back when they were younger and still close, Bill would often spend the night at Omar's den, and of the handful of oddities Bill remembered about those visits—the whole place smelled like a larva-choked log, for instance—it was Omar's father's tree-shaking snores that stood out the most. Bill almost laughed, thinking about how badly he'd missed home, only a few dens away, during those restless nights at Omar's. Here he was lost in a foreign forest, claws to the wall, further from home than ever before.

“Whatever you say,” Diego said with a smirk.

“So,” Bill said, changing the subject, “when do you think we'll land at the human den?”

“It depends on your Olingo friend,” Diego said. “But we can't be far now.”

“You've scouted all over this jungle, right?”

“I've been to the river and back,” Diego said. “But never this far down.”

Diego finished the last of his breakfast. The sticky, ripe berries had stained his lips dark. He used the edge of a claw to clean the seeds from his teeth.

Bill admired Diego's claws. They were long, with graceful arcs that narrowed into glinting points.

“Hey, Diego?” Bill asked. “Why do you think the humans are so interested in our claws?”

Diego snorted. “Haven't you figured it out yet?”

It was hard to understand exactly what Diego was saying—his paw was still stuck in his mouth—so Bill just shook his head.

“I tell ya, mate,” Diego said, finally pulling his paw from his mouth and considering his claws in the morning light, “at this point, these things are more trouble than they're worth.”

“I thought the claws kept us safe,” Bill said.

Growing up in Cloud Kingdom, every lesson young Teddycats learned about claws (cleaning and sharpening techniques, situations for appropriate use, penalties for illegal unsheathing) included a long sermon on their role in the species' salvation. According to the Elders, they were not so much tools for survival as divine gifts bestowed upon the species. That certainly sounded impressive, but wasn't much for practicality.

“Sure, they've served us reasonably well in the jungle. But I reckon the humans don't want to climb trees with these babies.”

Diego bared both sets of claws and held them up menacingly, just a hair away from Bill's eyes.

“Just ask Felix. The humans want to saw them off and make their little trinkets. They want these claws
around their necks, and they don't care where they come from or how badly it hurts.”

Bill leaned back and closed his eyes. A blast of fear filled the sudden darkness with a ghostly image: a wide field dotted with crying Teddycats, a gang of humans charging off with a smoky hoot, lugging bindles filled with bloody claws.

“I envy the Olingos,” Diego said. “Helpless as they are, in some ways, those little buggers are safer than we are. Here's some advice, Garra: Want a long, peaceful life? Don't go around havin' anything the humans want.”

“Yes, sir,” Bill mumbled, thinking
Too late
.

He considered his own claws, smaller than Diego's but still sharp. They could get you into trouble, sure, but could they ever truly get you out of it? They were a blessing and a curse, an honor and a burden.

Diego yawned and scratched his lean frame. “Thanks for breakfast, kid.”

“No problem,” said Bill, his own appetite off and running.

The wind settled down and the clouds moved in. Everything wilted in the sweltering humidity. Diego explained that their proximity to the water meant increased chances of sudden, violent storms and possibly flooding.

Felix assembled the group and laid out the day. According to Luke's best guess, the human den was a straight shot down the river valley. However, they
would need to make a hard choice. There was a wide, open savanna they had to cross. To skirt it would add a day to the trip that they—and Elena—could not afford. But crossing straight through would expose them to birds of prey and other predators. There would be no canopy, no coverage. It was like a frying pan.

“It's a trap,” Omar said, “and we're walking right into it. I say we take the extra time and go around. What help are we to Elena or anybody if we get plucked to death?”

Everyone shivered at the thought. Death by bird was low on the list of any jungle dweller.

“No way,” Bill said. “We've already wasted a day heading in the wrong direction. I say we make a break for it, cover up, and burrow down when needed.”

“And how's old Felix supposed to burrow down through sand?” Diego asked. “He can barely keep up as it is.”

“Or Luke, for that matter,” Omar said.

“Hey, I've already been through it once before,” Luke said.

“That's true,” Felix said, “but that was at night, and you were in shock. You probably didn't realize the danger you were in.”

Luke shrugged.

“How about the river?” Bill asked.

“What about it?” Omar asked, his confidence buoyed by Diego's agreement.

“Why can't we take the river down?”

“Come on,” Omar said. “Get serious.”

“I
am
serious,” said Bill. “Diego, is it possible?”

The old scout was silent for a moment. Then he hopped up in front of the group.

“We're here,” Diego said, dropping a stone on the grass in front of him. “Got it?”

“Yup,” Bill said.

“Now, according to Luke, this blasted camp is on the other side of the savanna.” Diego drew a circle in front of the stone with his walking stick. “Here's the savanna.”

“Looks about right,” Luke said.

Diego ignored him and scratched in a squiggly line along the right side of both their position and the savanna. “Here's the river. With me so far?”

More nods.

“So we can either take our chances crossing the savanna, flank to the left, and add a day's walk, or take the river and float right down past the camp.”

“You're saying it could work!” Bill said.

“It could work, sure,” said Diego. “But it ain't much safer than the other routes. The river's a whole new pit of snakes.”

“What are we gonna do?” scoffed Omar. “Build a raft?”

“That's exactly what we're going to do,” said Felix.