Free Novel Read

Teddycats Page 2


  Bill cleared the cloud cloak, vaulted over the Wall, and began the gentle slide into the basin. He heard Luke gasp at the sight before them, and for a moment Bill’s nerves succumbed to a swell of pride. The sky was a brilliant blue, as if the clouds had scrubbed it clean. This same clarity extended to the air, which was dry yet sweet enough to gulp, and the cold, clear water, which trickled through the Kingdom with its reassuring babble. When the first Teddycats arrived at Cloud Kingdom, they divided it into an irrigated grid, allowing nearly every den—even those in the far reaches, in the shadow of the peaks—access to drinking water and fertile land.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Luke, obviously awed.

  “Just remember,” Bill said, “it’s all about discretion and keeping a low profile. And if anyone asks, you’re seriously sick.”

  Luke crouched down and practiced the fake cough Bill had taught him, but it sounded more like a sneezing snort than a serious respiratory ailment. Bill sighed. It would have to do.

  They bolted down the lane toward the Sanctuary, swerving behind blossom-choked shrubbery and clinging to the shadows. As they crouched against an abandoned den, waiting for a near-blind Elder to hobble past, Bill heard the unmistakable, creaking shift of an Elder disturbed. He froze and gestured for Luke to do the same.

  “Is this the Sanctuary?” Luke asked.

  Bill grimaced and indicated for Luke to hush. Suddenly, there was a new shadow. And it definitely didn’t belong to an Elder, or even another Teddycat. The head of the wizened jaguar emerged quizzically from the den Bill had assumed was abandoned. Marisol must have rubbed him down with salve and stashed him here to rest. The jaguar’s rich, spotted fur was speckled with gray, and his eyes were kind and milky.

  “S-sorry,” Bill said. “I didn’t realize this den was occupied.”

  The jaguar smiled a toothy grin. “And who is your friend?”

  His voice was rough yet warm. Bill had expected something a bit more sinister.

  “Who, me?” Luke said, clearly still adjusting to his surroundings. “Oh, I’m sick.” He fake-coughed twice for good measure.

  Bill willed his friend quiet with a bug-eyed glare.

  The jaguar glanced up and down the empty lane. “Well, it seems as if you’re in a hurry. You’d better run along.” And then, to Luke: “I hope you feel better soon.”

  Bill did a lightning-quick double take, then darted off, Luke in tow. He had been expecting more of a tongue-lashing, though they weren’t in the clear just yet.

  “Thank you!” cried Luke as they scurried away.

  THEY ALL BUT slid into the Pata family den, panting and kicking up dust. Maia was huddled over Elena, settling the little Teddycat down for a nap in a plump pile of straw. But as soon as Maia stood up, Elena did too, and the straw flew everywhere. Maia growled in frustration, but Elena was oblivious, rushing to greet Bill.

  “Bill!” she screeched, flinging herself on his leg with wild abandon.

  “Howdy, Elena,” said Bill, flattered by the attention but sorry to have made things more difficult for Maia. “Hi, Maia,” he said, looking up at her apologetically.

  “Well, look what the Teddycat dragged in,” Maia said.

  Maia and Bill had grown up in adjacent dens, and many of Bill’s first memories were of the two of them together. Despite her family’s move, they remained close, in part because Maia, though seemingly straightlaced and unquestionably responsible—she basically raised Elena on her own after their mother became sick—was actually kind of a rebel. For instance, she gave nonsanctioned furcuts in the Crook after lessons, styling their friends’ fur with nutrient-rich sap she mined from trees. She was especially good at carving designs into the fur above the ears with an illicit flick of her claw. She was wiry and compact, smart and fun, with a quizzical coolness to her eyes and a mischievous lilt to her snout.

  Bill knew he was very lucky to count her as a friend.

  “Who’s this?” her little sister, Elena, asked, looking at Luke with a touch of her old shyness.

  “This here is Luke. He’s an Olingo. From the jungle. He’s not feeling so hot, so he came up here to get some treatment.”

  “Wow,” said Elena, with a mixture of excitement and pity.

  “Hey, Maia, what do you know about your new neighbor?” Bill asked, referring to the jaguar. He was trying to shift the attention from Luke, but after his unexpected interaction with the injured cat, he found himself strangely curious.

  “Hmm?” Maia said.

  “You know, the elderly jaguar currently residing four dens down the lane?”

  “That’s Felix!” said Elena. “He got bit by a human.”

  “Almost,” said Maia. “But not quite, sweetie. He got snared in a human trap.”

  “Lousy Joe,” said Bill, punching a paw.

  Joe was the name the Teddycats gave the human who stalked the innocent animals of the jungle. He was a wily, hulking monster, accompanied by a sharp stench and a smoking stick clenched between his glinting gold teeth.

  “How badly is he hurt?” Bill asked.

  “What am I, a doctor? Ask your mom. But I’d guess it must be pretty bad if they let him up here.” Maia turned away from Luke and her sister and tapped Bill on the shoulder. “Hey, Bill, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “You bet!” said Bill, smiling but unmoving.

  There was an awkward beat.

  “Um, privately?” Maia said.

  Privacy was hard to come by in Cloud Kingdom. With its active citizenry and geographical restrictions, there was little room to hide. Whispers carried. Bill had been back on the grounds only for five minutes and already he had run into a convalescing jungle cat, not to mention Elena, whom Bill considered friendly but too young to be trusted with sensitive information. The privacy situation went a long way in explaining the appeal of the fort, which, ironically, had so far led to more secrets.

  Bill crossed the den, leaving the light that spilled through the entrance, and soon found himself in a dank corner. He shivered involuntarily. “What do you think you’re doing?” Maia hissed, backing Bill further against the cool dirt wall, as far out of earshot as the den allowed.

  “What do you mean?” Bill said.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know,” Maia said. “That Olingo’s not sick, and you know it.”

  “Oh, come on,” said Bill, smiling.

  But the smile seemed to make things worse. He quickly swallowed it back.

  “No, you come on,” said Maia. “I can get into seriously hot water just by having you here. Shoot, just by seeing the two of you and not reporting it. I know for a fact Luke isn’t a sanctioned visitor. He’s your friend, isn’t he? The one you sneak out to go see?”

  “Please, Maia. You don’t need to tell anyone about this,” said Bill. “Luke is a good friend. He’s helped me out of some serious jams in the jungle . . .”

  “Where you’re not supposed to be!” Maia reminded.

  “I know all that! But, Maia, he’s a really good guy, and he keeps asking me where I live and why can’t he see it and how it’s not fair, and I got to thinking, you know, it’s not entirely unreasonable for . . .”

  “Clamp it,” said Maia. “I have to think.”

  Bill did as she asked and stared down at his hind paws.

  “Was there an accident? A miscommunication? Did he follow you up here? Trick you? Blackmail you? Give me something here, Garra.”

  “Well . . .” started Bill.

  “Hey, Bill?” Elena asked, loudly, from across the den. “Is Luke an interloper?” She pronounced the word, which was often employed by the more hawkish Elders, as if it were some kind of sweet, exotic melon.

  Maia pivoted. “That’s not a very nice way to talk about our guest!” she said, then left Bill to rejoin Elena and Luke, where she unfurled her characteristic warmth.

 
Bill remained in the corner for another moment, feeling both very small and wildly out of control.

  AFTER A FEW minutes of chit-chat, during which Bill and Maia were getting more and more on edge, looking over their shoulders for Elders or other potential witnesses, Bill finally decided that Luke had seen enough.

  “Luke, we’d better get you back to the Sanctuary,” Bill said. “You need to rest if you’re going to get better.”

  Luke frowned but then gave Bill a wink, letting him know he understood. “It was so great to meet you, Luke,” said Maia, clearing up their mild mess. “And I hope you feel better soon.”

  “Oh, right,” he said, then coughed into his paw.

  “Bye, Bill!” said Elena, refastening on his leg.

  “Hey, I’ll be back to see you before you know it,” Bill said.

  Luke jumped onto Bill’s back while Elena was still attached to his leg. The three of them formed a stumbling mass too wide to fit through the den entrance. Bill gently peeled Elena off his shin and tried to say goodbye to Maia, who was deliberately avoiding his eye. His heart sank a bit as he went out the door and she shifted out of sight.

  Just when Bill thought he might be able to slip out of Cloud Kingdom without any more surprises, he found one waiting for him right outside the den. It was Omar Cola, a former friend of his, just standing there with his forepaws crossed over his chest. Omar appeared smugly satisfied, as if he had just tripped over a useful secret. Bill shot up straight in surprise, leaving Luke to slide down his back and tumble into the soft grass along the lane.

  “Hello, Bill,” Omar said.

  “Hello, Omar.”

  The two Teddycats entered into a staring contest as Luke struggled to collect himself.

  Bill deployed a steady, narrow glare. Omar managed to work up a good sneer, but his eyes wobbled a bit, along with his chin. Omar was skinny, with ribs pressing against his coat. He was wily but unpopular, with a tendency to collect beans and spill them in front of Elders. This willingness to honk on private matters made other young Teddycats less than friendly.

  No one would be able to guess it from observing this interaction, but there had been a time when the three of them—Bill, Maia, and Omar—had been inseparable. It wasn’t until recently that a rift had grown between Bill and Omar. Perhaps it was because Bill was a more confident kitten than Omar. He attracted attention, for better or worse, while Omar tended to blend into his surroundings. Still, Bill didn’t really know why they had stopped being friends. There had been no final fight. The two simply didn’t talk for a while, and then the silence hardened, first into mistrust and then, finally, distaste.

  Finally, Bill broke his gaze. What was the point? Omar had already seen Luke. “Hi, Omar,” Bill said. “Long time no see.”

  Omar smirked. “Just what kind of trouble are you scaring up today, Bill?”

  No way was Omar going to believe Luke’s pathetic cough, so Bill tried quickly to come up with another story. “Meet Luke the Olingo,” Bill said. “He’s here on a . . . diplomacy trip. To discuss the poaching problem the Olingos are facing. I was actually just about to show him out.”

  Omar’s eyes refocused on Luke, who put on an expression of fake fright.

  “It’s true,” Luke said. “Those humans are out to get us.”

  “Admit it,” Bill said. “You gotta think he’d be especially vulnerable.”

  “Maybe so,” said Omar, “but I don’t trust a word that comes out of your mouth.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less true,” Bill said. “Well, see you around, Omar.”

  And with that, Bill and Luke were off. They fled back to the Wall and down to the tree line. After a quick farewell, Luke was gone, and Bill was left to face Cloud Kingdom alone.

  Dusk approached and the sky began to blend into the clouds. Bill doubled back to his den, really wishing he could start over and see a friendly face. But while his last trip had been marked by nerve-racking chance encounters, now the Kingdom felt strangely deserted. He was almost relieved to see the jaguar, Felix, this time soaking in the hot spring.

  “Hello there,” said Bill. “Again.”

  “Good evening,” said Felix.

  “Sorry if I woke you earlier. I’m Bill Garra. You’re Felix, right?”

  “I am,” the jaguar said. “It’s nice to formally meet you, Bill.”

  The water bubbled, releasing a sulfurous odor. Bill had no interest in the smelly hot spring, which was always jammed with snooty Elders. But he understood that it held restorative properties.

  “Is your friend feeling better?” Felix asked.

  “Yeah, I guess,” said Bill. “He’s home safe now. The truth is . . . well, he was never really sick to begin with.”

  Felix nodded, as if he already knew.

  “I think,” Bill said, absentmindedly scratching his head, “that I messed up pretty bad today.”

  “It’s not fun to make mistakes,” Felix said.

  “You’re telling me.”

  “But I think mistakes are inevitable. And valuable—as long as you learn from them.”

  “Really?” Bill said. “I guess I just don’t understand why Luke can’t visit. He’s a loyal friend.”

  “The jungle is a dangerous place. It’s hard, but you’ll understand when you’re older.”

  “Yeah,” muttered Bill. “After I make about a million more mistakes.”

  Felix laughed. “Probably. But as my father always said, ‘Dust yourself off and try again.’”

  “My dad says, ‘Mind your mother’ and ‘Keep your snout clean.’”

  “Well, my father said those things, too.”

  Bill suddenly felt shy. “I should run home for dinner,” he said. “Get well soon, Felix.”

  “Oh, you’ll be rid of me in no time,” Felix said. “But I wish you luck, Bill Garra.”

  3

  IT TOOK SOME time for Bill to fall asleep that night, but the next morning, he felt a bit better. An early fog was burning away under a gentle sun. Happy clatter and comforting smells wafted through the den. Cloud Kingdom felt less like a fortress and more like home.

  His mother was already up, fixing breakfast. Breadfruit porridge. Not a personal favorite, but not the worst recipe in her arsenal. That would be root stew, which Bill choked down only when his father was watching.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Marisol said. Well, she sang it, really. Ordinarily, Bill would find her singing (and her dancing, and her tendency to lapse into gibberish and flabbergasted expressions, and her kissing attacks) embarrassing, and downright deadly when she did it outside their den. But this morning her wacky ways comforted him.

  “Mornin’, Mom,” said Bill.

  “Now, I know you don’t love my porridge,” Marisol said, “but I tried to sweeten it up a bit.”

  “It smells great,” Bill fibbed.

  Marisol watched him take a lap with his dry morning tongue. Just as Bill had expected, it tasted the same as ever.

  “So, what do you think?” Marisol asked.

  “It’s very savory,” Bill said, smacking his lips and rubbing his paws together, really hamming it up.

  “Okay, wise guy,” said Marisol. “Take it down a notch.”

  “No, really!” Bill said, laughing. “It’s my new ultimate all-time favorite.”

  “Very funny,” said Marisol. “You know, there are plenty of folks out there who would go bananas for a nice homemade porridge. Down in the jungle, the way things are? Forget about it.”

  The porridge was gritty with nutrients. Seeds stuck in Bill’s teeth.

  “Bananas would be a nice touch,” Bill said. “Actually, now that you mention it, Mom,” he began, slowly, “why are we so separated from the jungle? I mean, I get that Cloud Kingdom’s up there and the jungle’s down there and all, but . . .”

  “It’s just t
he way things are, I’m afraid,” Marisol said.

  “But if there’s suffering down there, we could do something about it.”

  “We do help,” said Marisol. “In our way.”

  “Right, the Sanctuary, I know,” said Bill. “I walked through there yesterday and met Felix.”

  “Oh, really?” Marisol said, clearly surprised that Bill was on a first-name basis with the visiting cat. “Well, there ya go. Felix is a perfect example of how the Teddycats help out in the jungle.”

  “Mom?” Bill asked in between bites of porridge. “I have this . . . friend. We have lessons together. And he was wondering . . . what would happen, exactly, if a Teddycat brought another species up to Cloud Kingdom?”

  “You mean, like Felix?” said Marisol. “He’s here with the permission of the Elders. You know that.”

  “Right, sure. But . . . what if another kind of animal came up here without permission?”

  “Without permission?” Marisol repeated. “How would that even happen? Who is this friend asking you these wild questions?”

  “I don’t know, Mom! Like I said, it was just a question,” Bill said. The day was starting to feel less bright by the minute.

  “Well, I can say this,” Marisol said, her tone tightening. “If a Teddycat were ever to knowingly expose Cloud Kingdom, or even reveal the route to Cloud Kingdom, that would be an offense that could be punishable by banishment.”

  Banishment? A shiver rippled down Bill’s spine.

  “Even if it was just an Olingo?”

  “Especially if it were an Olingo!” Marisol said.

  Bill concentrated on his porridge, willing himself to stay calm. “But it can’t be that big a deal, right?” he said. “I mean, it’s nothing like what Sebastian did.”

  As soon as Bill said Sebastian’s name, Marisol froze. She stopped fussing with tidying the den and stared straight at Bill. Her expression was grave and filled with concern.

  “Look at me, Bill,” she said.

  Bill met his mother’s eyes.

  “This is important. Sebastian acted very selfishly. He risked the exposure of the Kingdom to dangerous elements, all to enrich himself. The resources of Cloud Kingdom—the water, the sweetmoss, the fruit—are reserved for Teddycats and the select few we believe we can safely accommodate. And bringing up an Olingo . . .”