Every day I watched for the demonic rats, and every day they did not come. However, slowly, gradually, there were increasing signs of their presence. Creeping darknesses, howls and screams in the night that set the hair along my neck and back rising, odd desiccated corpses, dried out trees. I would rush out to confront the monsters, usually arriving too late. They left behind them little besides carcasses and those insidious patches of corruption where all was drained of life and turned to nasty goo.
Whenever I could I left their bodies where Maud could easily find them, in her shoes, on the kitchen table in her bed, but she refuses to do more than scream and toss them away. Once she threw one out of the upstairs window. I am not sure she would be able to do much against a demonic rat anyway, but I had hoped she might be able to attract the attention of sturdier humans.
The rat’s activities made my blood boil. The sheer audacity of them to treat my forest as their private playground. Twice I fought and killed rats in the close vicinity of my garden, and twice I managed to kill them without risking any of my lives. Every day they did not come was a gift I used wisely.
Wuot also destroyed several rats that ventured into the sanctity of the village, her first encounter. The not-so-silly goose had organised her flock into patrols, and between them, my siblings, and the other domesticated animals of the village, incursions were dealt with swiftly and violently. The humans remained ignorant and useless.
The uncoordinated, piecemeal approach of the rats gave me hope that I knew was false, even as it bloomed within me like a small, cheerful sun. They would likely not continue to come in ones and twos. But worrying never accomplished anything so I stopped doing it. Instead, I worked on things that were under my control, starting with a serious nap.
I conferred with Mama.
Thimble and Hush had already filled her in on the situation, and she was almost as distressed as Montadie.
“Mother, I have five lives left,” I said impatiently. “I can at least try to protect my forest. Hush and Thimble have 2 each, likewise.”
She boxed my ears, spoke at length about the pride of youth, and my pride in particular, and then relented, washing the top of my head, with more vigour than care. She held me down with one particularly no nonsense paw while she tended to my already perfectly groomed form. I suffered the ministrations, knowing they were born of concern.
“Do not sacrifice yourself for a two-legger,” she said, after a while. “I know you love your Maud, but think - would the human do the same for you?”
“Of course!” I said, a little shocked by the suggestion that it could be otherwise, but I knew my mother had suffered horribly at the hands of the horrible murder man so I understood her distrust. She did not know Maud like I did. “Besides, I do not intend to sacrifice myself for anyone. That would be a waste of my potential.”
“It would indeed,” she said, a little calmer. “But your lives will only protect you so far. If you get caught in a death loop, even five will not be enough to save you.”
“A death loop?”
“If you cannot remove yourself from the situation which is causing you to die, you will just die over and over until your soul moves on. Your ninth life will be your last. Then your time on this plane of existence is done, until the next reincarnation cycle. You cannot come back. At least, you could not come back in ways that you would wish to.”
We both paused, thinking, presumably of the fabled necromancer and his horrible rats.
These were all unpleasant thoughts indeed. I put them away with all the other bad thoughts, after promising Mama I would be careful.
Then we talked a little about dream walking, and she told me that in time I would be able to project a spectral form of my body out into the world while my true body was kept safe and dreaming.
“You have already taken the first steps to achieving this,” she said proudly. “By meeting me here.” She looked around at the cosy space that only existed in our dreams. It was a little hazy around the edges, as usual. Currently it was composed of a box full of wool and happiness, both of us cuddled in together. If I looked up, the edges of the space were hard to make out, the vague impression of a room. I could only see more if I concentrated really hard.
“All of my children have a natural aptitude of course, just like you have an affinity for sunlight. To start with you can only reach those who are also dreaming. In time… only you need to be dreaming. Or rather, you are dreaming and so is the world. But that is for later.”
“But how do I dream of Montadie and the others?” I asked. “So that I can continue to attend classes? I cannot fall behind if I am to defeat the rat king.”
“Think of them in your meditation before you sleep,” she said. “With your family you have an instant connection, but it can be the same with other loved ones, and eventually even those who are not loved, but known. Build on your familiarity. Seek out their spirits wherever they may be at peace. The further they are from you physically, the harder it is.”
I pondered her words at length on waking, and on my subsequent patrol of the forest.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
After a brisk day of gently feeding my dantian with fire qi I took another nap. The tiny ball of qi thread in my belly was growing, almost imperceptibly, but it was growing. Keeping Mama’s words in mind, I decided to seek out a closer target before attempting Montadie, especially as I did not know where in the world she was.
Hush and Thimble were already frequent visitors in my sleep. Wuot was next closest friend, so she was the obvious choice. Unless I tried to dream with River? I shook my head. I was not sure if spirits dreamed. Or were they dreaming all the time? That was an experiment for another date, I would attempt to reach Wuot.
Curling into a comfortable ball, I groomed myself to perfection, nestled my nose into the soft flesh of my tummy and drifted off to sleep. As my breathing eased, my thoughts filled with images of my fine feathered friend.
I was very fond of the silly old goose. She was magnificent, I had to confess, especially for a bird. I imagined the long line of her neck, the wicked bill, the sharp, good humoured eyes. The way she smelled, the way she spoke, her fierceness when she told me of her fight with the rats. The way she shook her tail feathers as she waddled, the way she tended to her flock. The viciousness of her kicks, the grace with which she swam…
As I sank into sleep I was confident of my success.
Any moment now I would be chatting with Wuot, while she slept in the village on the other side of the wood. But it was not to be that night. My dreams were shallow and aimless: rats chasing me through bleak tunnels, balls of string bigger than myself, threatening to chew me up and spit me out. Ugly murder men with sacks and red faces bursting through the soil of the winter rose bed. In my dream I could not kill them, only run, run, run away still my legs gave out.
I awoke grumpy, annoyed and tired.
There was no fog around to share my grump with, but I went for a run in the snow to burn off my irritation, and that cheered me up. The snow was surprisingly friendly now I had learned to appreciate the winter season. We enjoyed each other's company as I barrelled along, kicking up sprays of white in my wake.
The sky above was as clear as a bell, bright and blue, the trees all dressed in blinding white. I kicked and played my way through the glittering drifts, cultivating the crisp threads of white as I went. Snow qi was frosty in my veins. It woke me up in a way that nothing short of a dunk in ice cold water could, and yet it was far from unpleasant, merely invigorating.
I had to be careful, placing snow qi inside my dantian alongside the fire. Qi seemed to be qi, if I wanted to use it to momentarily strengthen my body or sharpen my brain or eyes, but there was sophistication here that I was only just beginning to understand. If I wanted to withdraw the fire qi to use as flame breath I had to keep it separate, untouched by water or snow. This made sense, in a basic sort of way.
I solved the issue by winding the fire qi up into its own precious, fiery ball of thread within my core. This I placed away from the water qi, and the snow qi, not letting them touch. With this arrangement I could unspool it at will, and all was neat and tidy within. I started a ‘general’ ball of multi-hued qi that was a jumble of all elements, for those times when I was less able to concentrate.
In truth, during this time I did little else besides cultivation and dreamwalking. If I was awake I cultivated, if I slept I sought out my friends, determined to figure it out before the next full moon. As I grew in confidence and experience I could feel and see the uneasiness of the different elements. Not just in their position in my dantians, but in the paths they like to take through my body. There was always more to learn.
Experimentation had also shown I was now able to manifest other elements outside my body besides fire, although none yet with such spectacular, aggressive effects. Sunshine qi was my favourite, and even here there was subtle nuance. Light gathered on a brilliant day appeared like buttery yellow pixie lights, glowing dust motes that bobbed around me, or primrose yellow ones if I had gathered the qi in the weaker light of dawn. They melted the snow around me, but did not seem to accomplish much else besides illumination and mild warmth. I decided it was better kept inside my qi channels to warm me, despite how pretty it was. It also pleased my heart to know I would never again lack illumination in dark places.
Water qi I could withdraw and slap down, dousing an opponent mid combat, but with no real benefit other than to make things soggy. In time, perhaps I would grow more skilled, and discover more useful applications. On the plus side, I would never grow thirsty, so another boon.
Mist and fog qi I could use to create a haze around me, but it was currently too small and wispy to do much with. I could imagine a time soon where I would conjure entire swathes to vanish in, and I looked forward to stealthing across the forest floor in my own personal roly-poly fogbank. Besides this future delight, I could already use it to sense things that my eyes and ears could not perceive.
For where the mist clung I felt, no matter where. Casting it out and up, with a great deal of concentration I could feel the rough prickle of a silver birch’s trunk, high above me, and sense the sluggish stirring of sleeping squirrels in their nests. I could feel every hair on them, once by one, and gently touch their whiskers. I could feel the pine needle nest, and the soft down of their tummies.
It was an intriguing sensation, like suddenly growing a new sense altogether, awakening from blindness to a world flooded with light. I spent some time practising with it. My radius was not that far, not yet, perhaps the height of a great pine, and a cottage-length away in any direction. Still, I could imagine how it would be useful.
Snow qi so far I had little of, although my white snow thread qi ball was growing. We were too newly friends, and still a little shy with each other. Ice and I were yet mere acquaintances. Perhaps with their combined aid my manifestation of water qi would become deadly? I could just imagine hurling a vicious icicle directly into a revolting rat’s heart.
Speaking of which, one of the rats I killed left behind it a dark, decomposing orb. It dropped out of its sliced belly and plopped onto the ground. Curious, I sniffed at it. The horrid smell was so pungent I sneezed, gagged and then threw up. I brushed dirt onto it with my back legs and that made it slightly less horrid. The orb radiated smelly power and some sort of sticky, gloopy qi I did not recognise. It made me feel ill.
Taking great care not to touch it, I buried the thing with the remains of the rest out in the forest. This was a trial in itself as the ground was still frozen solid, but luckily I was immensely strong. The unease of that orb made me all the more keen to redouble my dream walking efforts. Montadie would know what it was and what to do with it.
The days were passing, fleet as a driving snowflakes, but still I could not dream-visit with any but my family. The full moon was approaching. The rats haunted my nightmares. And to my intense annoyance both Hush and Thimble were already visiting Wuot’s dreams.
I complained of this to River, who suggested with surprising intelligence that the physical distance might be an impediment. Thanking my frozen friend for the idea, I raced off to the village to demand Wuot and I have a nap together immediately.