It worked. Curled in a warm, goosey barn, surrounded by Wuot’s warmth and her sleepy, downy family, I fell asleep and sank into my dreams. And there she was! The big silly goose resplendent in the centre of a sunny pond. She sailed serenely, fluffing out her feathers and basking in the glory of a hot dream-sun, that shone down from blue, temperate dream-skies. She greeted me with some amusement, and paddled towards where I was standing in the shallows.

“Nice dream,” I said.

“Thank you.”

The sun refracted into a hundred pieces as her webbed feet broke the surface. Once I would have been appalled to visit such a watery dream but now I was wiser. And so I paddled and swam with her, and she congratulated me on my achievement. (Cats are actually excellent swimmers, not many people know that, and I, obviously, am better than most.)

“A most useful ability,” she said.

“It will only be useful if I can reach Montadie,” I said, luxuriating in the feel of sun on my back. Even though I knew it was only dream-sun, it was still very nice. I tried to cultivate. I could not.

“Then you must go to her,” the goose said. “And we will hope the rats do not swarm in your absence.”

I nodded, but first I had to make sure the time away was justified.

The next night I slept in the hollow of a crooked tree a little outside the village and I was still able to reach Wuot’s dreams. Much pleased, I returned to my cottage, and repeated the process. Success.

So the very next day I set off to the west, with confidence, seeking out the new sect home. Hush and Thimble would make the trip separately, all of us agreeing that taking three cultivators away at the same time was too much of a risk. I would take the lead, as was only natural.

Moððe had offered to watch over Maud and my cottage, but still I felt the need to hurry.

I was looking forward to seeing Montadie’s new home and the others quite a lot, even though it had not been that long. I already missed them. Moððe said the journey should take me three days, which was an anxiety inducing amount of time to be away. Plus once there I had to sleep and dream successfully. With all this in mind I galloped through the cold, icy forest as if For-Molsnian himself was on my tail.

Through the forest, over the bridge, through frosty farmlands and barren orchards and the myriad squeezed together houses of two-leggers that clustered to the west. This was the very edge of my knowledge of the world, and I found it all immensely intriguing, but did not let myself stop to explore. Another time.

Somewhere, among these dense packed homes lived my remaining siblings, but they too would have to wait for a real life visit. It was interesting to see how so many two-leggers and dogs and cats and cattle all lived so tightly smashed together. Territory was hotly disputed, as was only proper. Several cats challenged me as I passed on by. I was merciful and did not damage them too seriously but no doubt they would think twice before scrapping with a black cat again.

Out of the town I had to rely on Moððe’s instructions, and hope I did not get lost.

Through another forest, subpar to mine, and across another fast flowing river I travelled. This spirit smelled different to my River, more peat and loam and iron, but I did not allow myself to stop and chat. The rats would not wait for my social life. More fields, more snow, then fields gave way to grasslands, and grasslands rolled into hills and hills, so many rolling hills all of them vast and icy. I heard wolves to the north, Skol’s family no doubt, but encountered no other students.

I ran and walked and ran till even my qi-enhanced paws grew weary, and then I ran some more.

The air grew colder as I ascended the world. The way was steep, I felt like I was always climbing. So sharp and crisp was it that each breath washed my lungs clean. Up here the world was spread out before me in miniature. I took a moment to look back at the way I had come. It was good to look behind, from time to time, I thought, and to appreciate my journey.

In the very far distance I could make out my forest. It was only a tiny, distant smudge on the horizon. My forest and my Maud would be missing me, but they could manage a couple days longer. I turned my nose back to the wind and kept on.

The next day I located Montadie’s new glade.

Or rather - her new dwelling place. It was not a glade, for there were no trees, and it was at the centre of miles and miles of desolate moor and bog. Because of the speed of my passage I arrived tired but also better acquainted with ice than I had ever been before in any of my lives. I was also very ready to nap, only having stopped twice for the barest minimum amount of rest.

Standing alone on that desolate moor, for a moment I was unsure that Moððe’s instructions had been correct. But then I saw the ubiquitous mushroom circle, the seats empty waiting to be filled by small fae bottoms, and the hollow trunk that I knew was attached to Montadie’s sleeping back. The air was already thick with the intense qi I associated with Montadie’s home. It was a different mix here, predominantly air, snow and earth with hints of water.

There was no need to wake Montadie. I was tired. I could set right to work. Curling myself tightly into the crook of the trunk, my back shielded from the biting wind, it occurred to me that my classmates would not be there, as the moon was not full. Ah well. Time to rest.

My body was weary in the extreme but I felt safe now. Breathing out a sigh of relief I let all the stress flow out of my lungs with the breath.

And I dreamed.

Montadie, of course, was delighted to see me, and I, her. My teacher's dreams were even more interesting than Wuot’s or Mama’s. There was a black void above, filled with stars, and we were sat on dusty grey rock, barren of life. It smelt odd. In fact many things about it were odd. Montadie was gazing out into the distance, where a large ball of blue was floating in the distance.

Shot through with white and green, it was hard to tell whether it was near or very far.

“Where are we?” I asked, tucking my paws under my body. Perhaps it was a made up place from her imagination? That seemed likely.

“We are on Moon,” said Montadie.

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“On… Moon?” I looked around at the dusty, pockmarked landscape with some disbelief. Perhaps leaving the forest glade had unsettled Montadie more than she had let on.

“This is what she sees when she looks down on us. She is vast beyond your imagination, she only appears small because she is so far away.”

The conversation moved on to more normal things, and Montadie told me of how all my classmates had found satisfactory new homes, although they were still settling in. She was pleased to hear all was well in my forest but repeated her concerns about all of us staying.

I told her about the small, smelly hard stone I found in the belly of the dead rat.

“That is the rat’s core,” she said. “If you were a demonic cultivator yourself you could consume it to gain a boost to your own cultivation.” She saw the look on my face. “I do not advise it. Think of the impurities. It might be a shortcut to easy power but the decision would not be without consequences. This is how the demonic path tempts the desperate. Consume the demonic core, gain power, and fill yourself with corruption that would take years to purge. If you manage to purge it before it takes root.”

I shuddered.

“Yes,” she said, severely. “Bury them and think no more of it.”

I slept a long time, and when I woke, refreshed, I bade Montadie farewell, promising her that I would attend my next lesson in my dreams.

“But wait!” I said, suddenly panic stricken. “You won’t be asleep while you teach? This has been all for nothing.”

“Do not worry,” said Montadie. “You dream, I will welcome you. I will see you at the full moon Jenkins.”

I thanked her, sent my love to the others, and started my long trek home.

The following night I stopped to sleep once more, repeating the process to make sure my connection with Montadie was viable. This time she was dreaming of a marshy swamp with colourful birds and fish in it. I enjoyed being there, and we talked about qi cycling patterns until the sun came up.

Satisfied that I would be able to dreamwalk my next lesson I headed home as fast as I could. Thimble had visited and assured me that all was well, so I was able to focus on my cultivation as I galloped, and not my worries.

As so often in the case the return journey felt much shorter than the original.

Before I knew it I was beneath the boughs of my own wonderful woods once more. Some of the stress left my bones. I was home. I knew all the trees, all the dips and gullies and odd little spaces, and they knew me. If the rats came I was here to fight them! And I would be able to continue my lessons almost as well as if Montadie was still nearby.

Reinforcing my eyes and ears I slowed down, narrowing my eyes as I scanned the trees for stinky gross rats. And breakfast. I was hungry after eating so leanly over the past few days. Now I was paying attention to it, I realised my stomach was so empty it was aching.

Snow was falling again in gentle, unserious drifts. It looked very pretty, the large, fat snowflakes spiralling through the air. The snow spirits giggled as I complimented them, and one particularly corpulent snowflake landed on my nose. I pushed my way through the drifts, cycling trace amounts of snow qi as I went, diligently adding cold white frosty threads to the white ball forming in my dantian.

I now had a lovely collection: a yellow sunshine ball, a moon-silver ball, a molten orange fiery one, a watery-blue ball, a smaller airy soft one, glittering ice, nebulous fog and barely there mist. The airy soft one was the tiniest, but they were all growing in a most satisfactory manner. From the outside the collection might look a little nobbly but I knew it for the gorgeous wonder it was.

It was still quite small, but I wondered, what happened when I ran out of space within? It seemed unlikely that they could grow forever? Or was there simply a limit on how much qi I could store at my current level? That was a question for Montadie for later.

The sight of a hare pulled me from my reverie.

It was not the same hare that had led me away from the rat-wood, but a normal hare. Prey. My stomach rumbled. Hare was delicious. That would fill me up nicely!

I stalked across the woods. The freshly fallen snow was very powdery and I sank almost up to my belly as I crept, my whiskers now fully coated with snowflakes. The ones clinging to my fur helped me blend with the stark white environment, despite my natural darkness. I found if I cycled the snow qi they didn’t melt at all, presumably comfortable with our kinship. The cold cycling through my channels made me feel very, very awake.

It was easy to get close, but just as I was about to pounce, something startled the hare.

I leapt after it and then skidded to a halt in a spray of snow.

Three rats.

Three rats with their backs to me. Three ugly, smelly, fat, swollen, rotting rats, their tails dragging behind them, their horrible noses pointed away. Such was their foulness that they stained the snow around them, as if their bodies leaked fluids in brown and purple and oily black. I knew now that this meant at least two of them were cultivators.

Intent on their machinations, they had not noticed my presence. This would be their undoing. But what were they so focused on? I padded closer on soft paws, cycling qi to my claws and teeth in anticipation. They had something trapped. They were playing with it. I could hear the pitiful squeals and shrieks. No doubt some poor innocent forest creature.

Some poor, innocent, delicious forest creature. How dare they play with my things?

My belly rumbled, and I sprang.

The first rat died before it even saw the ice hard claw I used to slit its throat.

The second died screaming, immolated in the flames of my fire breath. Switching from snow qi to unspooling fire, gave me a moment of disorientation. My eyes crossed and I swayed on my feet, fire and snow fighting in my veins. The snow around me melted in a hisssss of steam.

The third rat turned, a snarl on its lips, and I felt that unclean tug as it stole my qi, advancing with glinting red eyes. Glimmers of sick-green coated its paw, the flesh there bubbling and popping. I knew no good would come of anything if that paw reached me, and redoubled my efforts to get my qi under control.

Before I could, a pebble bounced off the rat's head, with a solid crunch.

It glanced away, in annoyance more than real hurt, but the distraction was all I needed. I leapt forward, dragging my claws across its throat. A little too enthusiastically, all sorts of bits spilled out with the blood, staining the snow the colour of my Maud’s raspberry jam. But better that than having a half dead rat. Or an alive angry one.

I stepped away, so the jam-bits didn’t mess on my paws. One of those disgusting smelly core-stones was sizzling in the snow, staining the area around it brown and green. I kicked some snow over it, with an apology, then went to investigate what the rats had been torturing.

A score of jubilant pixies were celebrating loudly in a little hollow. Most of them were no taller than my chin, the majority with broad faces, huge eyes, and spindly bodies that did not look strong enough to support their heads. The Small Folk were all armed with tiny rocks and twigs. Some of them appeared to be injured, to varying degrees of severity. The healthy ones were jumping up and down while the rest made rude gestures towards the corpses of the rats.

A little one with soft rabbit ears and a pinecone hat pranced forwards, to spit on the closest rat most daringly. Actually the pinecone looked like it was a part of his head, rather than a hat. Part of it seemed to have been chewed off. Then he stood, flexing very, very tiny biceps in front of it to the whoops and cheers of the rest.

I looked at the little pixie speculatively.

He did not look tasty. None of them did. They looked twiggy and bony and made of tree bits. Those rabbit ears were a lie, there was no rabbit meat there. I had once tried to eat a pixie, months back, it had been almost as gross as eating dry leaves. Still, they had provided excellent distraction for the rats, so that was nice. I had no doubt the fight would have been much more vicious, without them, and me with an empty belly and all.

Turning away, I set off once more seeking breakfast.

A small pebble rattled against my skull.

I turned my head in irritation. The little pixie giggled and waved, then gave me two thumbs up before disappearing into the woods.