Trail of Lightning (The Sixth World #1)(69)

We finally reach an opening where the tunnel expands out to an underground cave wide enough to fit us all standing side by side and leave room for a dozen more. The cave is round, with a raised platform dominating the far end and a hallway curving around a corner to our left. The floors are covered with furs, and above the platform, small rodents hang by their tails from the ceiling like decorative pendant lights. I spot brown desert mice and the larger rats common in Tse Bonito. Even a few gray squirrels. They all stare out into the room with little black dead eyes. I shiver involuntarily. Weird has crossed over into macabre.

Kai is close enough for our shoulders to brush as he whispers in my ear. “What is this place?”

“Mósí is a cat,” I say.

His eyes wander over the ceiling. “That explains the dead animals, at least.”

I try to think of everything I know about cats, which isn’t much. I’ve never owned a cat, and the wild ones in the mountains, the bobcats and mountains lions, keep themselves hidden when I’m around. Grace’s cat seemed to like me okay, but really, who can tell for sure? And I’m not sure even a careful knowledge of cats would help me understand Mósí, although a basic understanding of coyote behavior has helped me keep up with Ma’ii more than once.

From above the platform across the room, our hostess descends a spiral staircase, green party dress swirling. My guess is at the top of that staircase is a glass-encased box above a fighting pit. Not an ideal exit because I’m not sure how to break that glass, but it looks to be the only other way in and out of the cavern besides the way we came. If it comes to it, I’ll find a way to break the glass.

Mósí pauses briefly on the bottom stair to take us in. She’s older than I expected. She seemed young from a distance, but now I can see gray streaks in her black hair, and the suggestion of fine lines around her eyes and mouth. Of course, what does age mean to an immortal creature? The real question is why Mósí has chosen this particular mask. What purpose does it serve, and what does she hope to accomplish by appearing like a matron instead of anything else? If it’s supposed to reassure me that she’s got my best interests at heart, it’s not working.

Her eyes pass over us before touching briefly on Kai. She gives him a smile, like she recognizes him. Weird, but I’ve noticed Kai elicits weird responses from people, particularly the Bik’e’áyée’ii. This is just another one.

Finally, she settles on me. Motions me forward to meet her at the edge of the dais. There’s a pile of rabbit hides heaped there. My moccasins sink soundlessly into the thick mass of fur as I join her.

“Welcome, child,” she says, her voice an inquisitive purr. “Let me see you.”

I stand still in the twilight of her cavern and let her look. “I thought cats could see in the dark,” I challenge her.

“We can, child. And we can hear your heart beating too. And smell your arousal, among other things.” She sniffs, her nose twitching.

That’s not creepy. I wait as she stalks a circle around me, close enough that I can feel her whiskers brush my bare arms.

“So you are Neizghání’s weapon. His battle child.”

Neizghání again. Maybe it’s not just my reputation. Maybe Ma’ii told Mósí about my former teacher. “What did the Coyote tell you?”

“Oh, it wasn’t Ma’ii who told me about you. It was the mother.”

“Neizghání’s mother? Changing Woman?” It never occurred to me that Neizghání’s mother would know about me, much less talk about me.

“Hmm . . . just so. She is kind to us. The Cat, the Buffalo, the Deer. Even the Coyote. It is we who keep her company in her House in the West, not you five-fingered, with your problems and riot.”

I think I’m supposed to feel slighted, but the thought of spending time with Changing Woman shakes me to the core. Not because she is a Holy Person, powerful beyond anything I know, but because Neizghání is her son.

Mósí sees me pale, and smiles. “Oh, do not fret. We spoke of nothing that is not already known.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just so.” She touches a finger to her nose and points at my heart, then my groin. “Just so.”

Creepy to the core. I can feel my limited patience already beginning to wear thin. I’m not in the mood for guessing games with a cat. We came for a reason, and it’s not to dissect my relationship with Neizghání with yet another curious and gossiping Bik’e’áyée’ii. I have no idea why they all seem so interested, but now isn’t the time.

“Did Ma’ii tell you why we wanted to talk to you?”

She inclines her head, still pacing her circle. I have the urge to grab her and hold her still. My hand twitches with the need.

“He said you had something,” I say. “Something that can make monsters.”

“You were among my patrons earlier? Did you enjoy our little fights?”

I blink at her rapid change of subject. “We came late, so we didn’t see the fights,” I admit. “But about that object. Ma’ii called it a fire drill—”

“Cats are hunters, of course. Not true fighters. Oh, we’ll fight when cornered, but we prefer to stalk our prey. It’s the chase that we love.”