Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

550 YEARS AGO

A ndie shifted back to her human form. This time, it was a conscious decision. The change occurred because she willed it. Changing back into a cat again would be even easier next time.

Her thoughts had run away from her. Was this even what she wanted?

How quickly she’d grasped shifting back and forth aligned with the veil cat’s assertion—that she was somehow bound to the land here.

“This is the realm the humans call ‘beyond the veil’?” she asked when she’d collected her thoughts. It wasn’t a question she needed answered, but she was still trying to get her feet under her. Her jacket was on the chair next to the bed. She reached for it and pulled out the journal, hoping to find clarity by writing the words.

“It is. But why are you asking questions to which you already know the answer?” the cat replied.

Andie rolled her eyes as the cat’s tail flicked back and forth in a steady rhythm and returned to her note-taking. “Fine… What do veil cats do here?”

“You already know the answer to that, too. We are the shepherds of this land; we ferry spirits from the continent to the afterlife, as you did with our most recent arrival.”

“But you’re not the rulers of this land? Is there a…” She wasn’t sure how to word the question. “Is there a leader here?”

Orion’s tail continued to flick back and forth. Seconds felt like minutes. Another voice slipped into her mind, sounding more female than Orion’s. “ Just tell her.”

“Patience, Alice,” he said. The entire pack’s voices were present in Andie’s mind.

“Tell me what?” Andie pressed.

“The land here, the veil, has been waiting for a ruler. Someone who understands the land, protects the spirits, and will give their blood to protect it.”

Andie laughed, but it rang hollow. She swallowed thickly, realizing what Alice was saying. “I can’t imagine you get a lot of candidates with blood crossing into this realm.”

“You would be correct,” Alice said.

“So, you think it’s me?” Andie asked. Again, the question was near rhetorical—Alice’s intention was clear. Orion wasn’t disagreeing. He just seemed to be taking a more meandering approach to springing the news on her.

“We think you know the answer to that.”

She needed to find Cee. Cee was a born leader; Andie was just the one who liked to play with magic. She wasn’t fit to rule the land beyond the veil.

Andie growled, sounding more like one of the felines than she meant to. She shut the journal and stood. These cats were so enigmatically frustrating! “I’m going to find my sister,” she said. “You’ve got the wrong twin.”

Storming out of the room, she turned right, the direction the cat’s tail flicked when she asked about her sister. She opened the door without knocking. “Cee, we need to talk—now.”

Cee was still in bed, and no cats surrounded her. The room was as plushly appointed as Andie’s. A tray of refreshments sat on the bedside table though it appeared untouched.

“Andie! What happened?” Cee sat up as Andie approached.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. Are you alright?”

“You left me!” Cee shouted. She was clambering out of bed now. More of the events preceding this must be coming back to her. “You shifted into a beast, and then you left! Taking the spirit with you!”

“They’re not beasts; they’re cats,” Andie replied.

Cee tilted her head, confused at the correction. Andie’s shoulders tensed as that calm, authoritative voice slid back into her head, even from the other room.

“ See how quickly you defend us? Like a queen with her subjects.”

Andie wanted to growl again but knew it was useless. Her fists clenched at her side, and she shouted loud enough for the veil cats in the neighboring room to hear. “I am not your queen!”

“What’s going on, Andie? Who are you talking to?” Cee looked genuinely worried now.

Andie released a deep sigh. She handed the journal to Cee, hoping she might be able to make sense of what she’d written. “The veil cats—they’re speaking to me. Directly in my head. Have they spoken to you?”

Cee shook her head, her eyes scanning the pages. The look of worry was not abating.

“We need to get out of here,” Andie said.

Cee shook her head again. “I’m not leaving until I find a source of spirits. It works, Andie. We need them. It’s the only way our village survives the worsening catastrophes.” She folded her arms over her chest.

“You can’t, Cee. That is not their fate.” She didn’t know how to explain what she’d felt, but knew she needed to try. “When you used the first spirit—Nona’s—I felt her cry out. She didn’t want to be sacrificed to fuel our magic. We didn’t even give her a choice.” Andie was close to breaking.

Cee’s brow furrowed.

“Nona’s spirit isn’t here now. Her afterlife is over. She doesn’t get to exist in peace. She’s just gone.”

“How could you know that, Andie? Be reasonable.”

“You’re right, Your Majesty, but she does have you there. How can you know that if you hadn’t given your blood to the land? If you don’t belong here?”

Andie growled again in frustration.

“We have to save the villagers, Andie. They’re counting on us. Father is counting on us. A few spirits are worth the cost! I know it’s sad, but they’ve already lived their lives.”

Andie didn’t know how else to explain it. Yes, one life was over—but that didn’t mean they should forfeit their existence in the afterlife. She felt in her bones that it was part of a cycle of balance for humanity.

Cee would defend their village, and Andie was glad for it. But part of her also wondered—who would defend the spirits?

An idea formed in Andie’s mind. If the veil cats wanted her as ruler, they’d have to answer some questions. Andie was sure that if those more knowledgeable about the realm explained it to Cee, she wouldn’t want to disrupt the balance here. She voiced her plan for Cee and the felines next door. “We’ll have the veil cats give us a tour. They’ll explain the process and how the spirits enter and exist. You can ask them all your questions. See what your plan will cost the spirits.”

Cee was already shaking her head.

“Please, Cee. I’m asking for you to let them make their case. Please.”

Cee considered her twin. Her gaze held fast to the point of Andie’s discomfort. “Fine.” She grabbed her jacket and slid it around her shoulders, tucking the journal into a pocket.

“ We’ll play along, too,” the cats replied.

The veil cats insisted the explanation start at the river. Andie couldn’t tell if this was the exact part of the riverbank where they’d arrived or if the entire bank looked remarkably similar.

“ For this tour, it would be easiest if you were both veil cats again. Though, you will need to help her shift.” Orion’s tail flicked toward Cee.

“How do we do that?”

Orion let his tail sway back and forth, a clear indication he would wait as long as necessary for her to figure it out. The rest of the pack—a dozen in total—sat back on their haunches in solidarity.

“He says we both need to shift,” Andie said to Cee. “Can you do it again?” she asked.

“Can you?” Cee shot back.

Andie nodded slowly. As much as she wished she couldn’t, the veil cat form was just below the surface of her skin, begging to be released.

“Of course, you can,” Cee huffed. “Well, you do it. Maybe I’ll learn from watching you.”

“ That won’t work,” Orion said. “You’ll need to ask the realm to allow her to change.”

“She did it before,” Andie pointed out.

“She used magic that wasn’t hers,” he replied evenly. “The realm only gifts the change to worthy individuals.”

Andie held in another eye roll. “Fine.” She sliced her arm before she could think better of it and offered her blood to the realm. She didn’t state her intention aloud, but her focus was clear: Grant Cee the ability to shift—at least for this tour.

The land absorbed the blood where it fell. It was just as concerning as the first time, but she couldn’t focus on the implications now. Within seconds, she and Cee fell to all fours, fur covering their bodies.

“Now that we’re all settled, we can begin the tour,” Orion said. Andie assumed this was spoken into both her and Cee’s minds as her sister’s head turned toward the pack leader.

“Do all spirits enter here?” Andie asked. As a veil cat herself now, her mouth didn’t move when she spoke, but she knew the cats could hear her—Cee included.

“They do,” Orion replied. “Though not all can cross the river.”

“Why not?” Cee challenged.

“What do you know about the balance on your continent?” Orion asked.

Something prickled beneath Andie’s fur at the question. It was one she’d asked herself many times. The way the land on the continent cried out to her—the way it demanded attention—something big was wrong. Andie just had no idea what.

Orion’s tail flicked again like he saw more in Andie’s feline reaction than she had hoped. Andie waited, wondering what Cee would say. Cee didn’t hear the land’s cries like she did. Did she know what the storms at home represented?

“I’ll assume not much,” he said when neither replied. However, his yellow-green eyes blinked directly at Andie before he continued. “Your gods of the continent—Aterra, Arctos, Aurora, and Zrak—are responsible for maintaining the balance there. You may have noticed they are doing a terrible job.”

“What have they done?” Cee pressed.

“We’re not their keepers,” Orion said with another twitch of his tail. “Though I would hazard to guess it’s not so much what they’ve done, but what they haven’t done. Balance must be proactively maintained. In their immortal existence, they’ve become apathetic to the needs of those to whom they’re supposed to give care.”

“So, they’ve…ignored the humans on the continent?” Cee asked. Outrage bubbled beneath her voice. Andie could feel it even in this feline form.

“You’re missing the point,” Orion continued. “The balance on the continent is dangling by a thread. We wanted to bring to your attention the lack of care for its maintenance. The balance here, though suffering impacts from the continent’s unrest, is more actively preserved.”

“How is the balance here maintained?” Andie asked.

Andie wasn’t sure if it was possible, but she swore the cat smiled at her. “We’re so glad you asked. The river is the first way. Those who make it across can select where on the land they want to spend their existence.”

“What about those who don’t make it across?” Cee asked.

“They help to support the other’s existence. Their spirits still find rest—albeit a second existence of more solitude.” Orion’s green-yellow eyes met Andie’s like he was trying to tell her something but wouldn’t voice it.

“Show us,” Cee said.

They walked as a pack. It could have been hours, but Andie was lost in thought as Orion shared other information about the realm. Their life here seemed peaceful, and though they had responsibility, they hadn’t faced destruction like the twins were seeing on the continent.

Cee was quiet for the entire walk. Andie knew she was stewing over what the cats had shared. Had she really not known something bigger was wrong?

The fact that the seemingly natural disasters resulted from the god’s apathy was a blow but not entirely a surprise to Andie. She’d often wondered why the gods were silent in the face of their plight. Her real question now was—did humanity even stand a chance when these were the odds stacked against them? Combating the apathy of the gods seemed a tall order.

If Andie couldn’t save the continent, maybe she could preserve some part of human existence—even if it was only the afterlife.

They followed the river as it flowed. If Andie thought the place they fell into the water was dangerous, it was nothing compared to some of the rushing rapids they passed. The entry point was giving the spirits their best chance at crossing.

Andie glanced at Cee as they reached the point where the rushing river poured into a large lake. Her face was stubbornly resolute. The lake was surrounded by the same forest they’d walked through but abutted a prominent rock feature she couldn’t completely see. It was so tall, it pushed up beyond the trees. A waterfall trickled down from the unexplored heights, its constant patter the only disturbance to the lake. It was stunningly serene, but Andie couldn’t ignore the quiet gloom present.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“The Lake of Spirits,” Orion replied. “This is where spirits go if they cannot cross.”

Andie searched the waters. It did look calm. She wasn’t sure what to ask.

“It’s not torture for the spirits—as you can see, it’s quite peaceful. It’s just a different kind of existence than those that continue on in the cities.”

“If it’s not bad, why do you help the spirits cross the river?” Andie asked.

Orion sighed in a way that only a feline could . “The river has gotten harder to cross in recent years. And more spirits have been crossing from the continent. The mismanagement there is slipping into this realm with those who are perishing from it.” One of the other cats growled as if urging the leader to share more information. Orion’s tail twitched in response. “Too many were ending up here. The water level is too high—near overflowing. We seek to return to the proper balance.”

“What happens if too many spirits end up here?” Cee asked.

“The spirit’s energy fuels the magic of this realm. With too many, we have an excess. We don’t want to benefit from spirits being sent to the wrong resting place.”

Andie’s gaze turned to Cee. She couldn’t read her as well in her feline form, but she feared what was going through her mind—an excess of magic was hard to ignore. The lake was full but not overflowing. It seemed the cats had done well helping more spirits across. There may be excess, but it didn’t feel extreme.

Andie knew that wasn’t what Cee would see.

She remembered the original tests that got them into this situation—the spirit, the bushes. They were past wondering if the energy of the spirits could grow food for their people. As the cats had pointed out, famine was a symptom of a more significant problem. They needed to focus on the heart of it.

Cee would only see the excess as a means to protect her people from the imbalance on the continent.