Tailchaser’s Song

"I will remember you until the stars die…" cursed the distant, toneless voice. The fire in Fritti's head flared again, then was gone.

Tailchaser forced himself over the edge of the hole. The light was so bright that spots floated before his eyes. Hobbling, almost falling forward, he struggled away from the hole-away from Vastnir.

The world was white. Everything was white.

Then, everything was black.

CHAPTER 24

O magic sleep! O comfortable bird

That broodest over the troubled sea of the mind

Till it is hushed and smooth!

–John Keats

Pain and weariness battled beneath Tailchaser's fur. High in the sky hung the cold, burning stone of the sun. The world was shrouded in snow; trees, stones and earth mantled in an even, white sheath. Little needles of chill pain pricked Fritti's feet as he stumbled through Ratleaf Forest.

Since recovering consciousness, he had staggered near-blindly, putting distance between himself and the mound. He knew he had to find shelter before Unfolding Dark, when the gruesome shapes would come up from the tu

The snow behind him was dotted with red.

Late afternoon found Fritti still in helpless, unthinking flight. He was weakening rapidly. He had not had anything to eat since what must have been the morning of the previous day; that had been-as was usual for the tu

Tailchaser had now penetrated into deep forest. Columns of trees pillared the forest roof; the ground everywhere was shrouded in ice. Fatigue and glare made his eyes burn and tear, and from time to time he imagined he saw movement. He would stop, hunker down on the cold snow blanket with pounding heart… but there would be nothing, nothing: a static world.

The life of the old forest now driven out by the foulness growing near it-or so it seemed-Ratleaf made no sound, but silently heard the crisping of his pads; made no movement, but motionlessly observed his struggle.

As the day wound forward and the biting soreness in his nose, ears and paws disappeared, to be replaced by a puzzling blankness of sensation, the illusion of subtle movement would not be laid to rest. From the corner of an eye Fritti glimpsed scuttling, shadowy presences; when he turned his head, though, only snow-laden trees met his gaze.

He was begi

When another minute, peripheral movement caught his attention he did not turn but staggered on, watching with a sort of half-deranged slyness. In the extremity of his weariness he did not even consider the possibility that it might be a stalking enemy. Like a kitten playing with a dangling vine-first coy and uninterested, the next moment leaping for the kill-he could only think of the moving object; catching it, putting an end to the game.

Head down, the crimson drops staining the snow more irregularly now. Fritti saw a brief flash of something dark and swift in the trees to his right. Seeming unaware, he pitched the uneven progress of his body to that side until he was a jump or so from the edge of the copse.

Another flicker of activity just ahead-he had to restrain himself from springing.

Carefully, carefully…

He stopped for a moment; he crouched down and licked one of his bleeding paws, all the time tensing his muscles, ignoring the twinges of pain, waiting… waiting for another movement… there!

Leaping, half-tumbling, Fritti crashed through the underbrush, paws flailing. Something had been knocked from the low-hanging branches and was scurrying before him. With a surge of strength he sprang.

As his paws made contact he cracked headfirst into a tree trunk and rolled stu

For the first time he looked blurrily down on his prey. It was a squirrel, its eyes bulging in terror, lips drawn away from long, flat teeth.

Rikchikchik, he thought to himself. Something about the Rikchikchik… are they bad to eat? Poisonous? He felt as if his head were buried in snow. Why so cold? Why can't I think? Squirrels. Something I should say to this one?

He thought hard. Every idea seemed another difficult step to be taken. Looking down at the small body and trembling, brushy tail, he felt a glimmer of memory. He lifted his paw from the Rikchikchik, who lay motionless, staring up at him with panic-bright eyes.

"Mrrik… Mrikkarik…" Fritti tried to remember the sounds. He knew he must say it. "Mar… Murrik…" It was no use. He felt a great, soft burden settling on his back, buckling his legs.

"Help me," he choked in the Common Singing. "Help me… Lord Snap said to tell you… Mrirrik…"

Tailchaser collapsed to the snow beside the startled squirrel.

"Now, you-you cat: you speak brrrteek, why say brother name Lord Snap?"

Above Tailchaser's head, clinging upside down to the trunk of a tree, was a chubby old squirrel with a bent tail and glittering eyes. Behind him, showing less courage, a phalanx of Rikchikchik peered down the trunk and between leaves at Fritti.

"Talk now-talk!" squeaked the squirrel-leader. "How know Lord Snap? Tell-tell!"

"You say Lord Snap is your brother?" asked Tailchaser, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind.

"Most certain yes!" chittered the squirrel a trifle disgustedly. "Snap is brother of Pop. Lord Pop is I-you see, so-silly cat?"

Feeling addled, Fritti reflected on this a moment.

"I was supposed to say something to you, Lord Pop-I mean, Lord Snap, your brother, told me to say… how did it go…" Lord Pop made an impatient clicking noise. "I'll try to say it!" Fritti muttered. "Mrrarreowrr… no, that's not it. Mrririk… Meowrrk… Harar! I can't remember it!"

Tailchaser noticed that Lord Pop's retinue seemed to have lost much of their fear of him, and were, in fact, squealing with amusement. Tailchaser was sore and confused and tired, and for a moment his mind wandered. Then, suddenly: "Dewclaws! I've got it!" Fritti laughed, a painful sound. "Mrikkamkareksnap! That's right, isn't it?" In his moment of exultation, he felt suddenly light-headed, and sagged where he stood. Lord Pop learned forward and fixed him with an agate eye.

"Is right. Sacred Oak pledge of Snap. We honor. Strange-strange times. You can walk, so-strange cat?"

Limping, Tailchaser followed the Rikchikchik party into the deep gro es of i

The group halted. Tailchaser stood dazedly bv until Lord Pop and two other Rikchikchik descended from the trees to stand beside him. Looking down on their arched tails and round backs, he smiled benevolently and said: "I've been in the mound, you know." The squirrel-lord's companions drew back at this, chittering, but Lord Pop stood his ground, bright eyes thoughtful. He soundlessly signaled the others back; together they coaxed Tailchaser into a hollow, lightning-blasted stump. The inside was sheltered, free of snow. After making three stumbling, automatic turns for the Firstborn, Fritti collapsed to the ground. A bevy of Rikchikchik brought pine needles and bark, covering him from nose to tail-tip.