Teddycats (5 page)

EVENTUALLY
, BILL WAS
forced to leave Maia's side. He was burrowed and therefore required back at home, where he chewed silently through a tense dinner with his parents, then dutifully retreated to his straw, where he curled up and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

The nightmares arrived, breathless and frantic. Bill felt himself falling through an endless canopy, into a field filled with traps and cages with sharp, rusted teeth. He saw a faceless horde vaulting over the Wall with terrifying ease. He saw Cloud Kingdom on fire, heard yelps of pain as Joe and other shadowy human-like figures advanced through the ashes, and then—

Bill woke with a start. He bolted upright, his claws bared and glinting. The moon was low in the sky, casting pale, insistent light across his straw. He imagined Maia awake across the Kingdom, too broken up to sleep. He imagined Elena and Jack behind bars, at the mercy of Joe. A thought pierced him:
What if
he
were the one
out there all alone?
What if
he
had fallen into that trap, and his friends and family weren't allowed to help?

In the ghostly quiet Bill was hit with two undeniable truths: One, the lockdown was a tragic mistake, and two, he needed to do all he could to rescue the lost Teddycats. Consequences—doled out by the jungle, the humans, or the Elders—were beside the point.

Bill assembled a quick bindle with dinner scraps and a lucky nub of petrified wood, and tied it to his tail. As he crept toward the exit, he heard his father's snores reverberating through the den, filling it with a familiar feeling of warmth. He made a silent promise to return, then slipped out the door.

As he set out, Bill realized he'd never descended from Cloud Kingdom in the dark before. He took it slowly, surprised at his own patience. His mind was clear; all the fear and anxiety that pricked at his dreams had been snubbed out by a newfound sense of purpose and the crisp night air. Mist from the waterfall beaded on Bill's fur, which made crossing the Wind Tunnel all the more chilling. The usual scenic vistas were shrouded in darkness, leaving Bill one misstep away from the abyss. But he realized this had always been true, and pretending otherwise had led to many troubles.

Bill rode a lava chute the last third of the way down. The jungle floor was eerily still, nary a rustle or hoot. Usually the tree frogs would be making a racket. Was it a human invasion that had caused this cease in
activity, or was it just a slow night? Either way, he was relieved when he finally reached Luke's den.

“
Psst!
Luke!”

He crouched and whispered his friend's name in increasingly husky tones, finally reaching a frustrated crescendo with a shrill whistle.

Luke's face, crusty and misshapen with sleep, emerged. He glanced around, blinking eyes adjusting to the darkness, passing right over Bill. “Huh?” he said.

“Down here!” Bill whispered.

“Bill?” Finally Luke's eyes fell on his friend. “What're you doing here?”

Bill bristled a bit at the question. He was still angry with Luke for interfering with his Elena rescue. But then Bill remembered what he was about to ask him to do.

“Shhh,” Bill hissed, then softened his tone and the look in his eyes. “Secret-mission time, buddy. You up for it?”

“I'm game,” said Luke, yawning.

He always was.

BILL WAS THINKING
about the humans, trying to remember Felix's theory. It was hard enough to worry about Joe, but now he had to entertain the idea that there were more of them out there. It chilled him to imagine the jungle ripped apart by marauding humans.
Cloud Kingdom, the forest floor, no place would be safe.

“I'm hungry,” Luke said.

“It's the middle of the night!” Bill said.

“What, you never heard of a nocturnal snack?”

“Teddycats have a pretty disciplined feeding schedule,” Bill said. “But by all means, dig up some grubs or whatever it is you like, if that's what it takes for us to get on with our mission.”

“I'm not really in the mood for grubs,” Luke murmured. “More like something sweet.”

Bill sighed. “Well, if I've learned one thing recently, it's that the universe doesn't care about moods—yours, mine, or anybody else's.”

“The universe is dumb,” Luke said.

“It's definitely unfair,” said Bill.

“Humans are allowed all sorts of moods, I'll bet,” said Luke, chewing loudly on a root.

“That's the top of the food chain for you,” Bill said. “Frees up a lot of mental space. Too bad they use it for storing evil plans and inventing new traps.”

Luke stepped on Bill's heel. “Sorry,” he said, his voice wet in Bill's ear.

They were making bad time. Bill's newfound patience, as refreshing as a cold lap of water earlier in the evening, was running thin. Also, he suddenly realized he had no idea where he was going.

“Where are we even going?” Luke said.

“I told you, it's a secret,” Bill said, buying time.

Back in the den, with the moon interrogating him through the window and the weight of Cloud Kingdom on his shoulders, it had all seemed very clear. But now, down in the jungle, the wilderness was as untamed and unforgiving as ever. He weathered a tremble of uncertainty.

Just then, a dash of heat lightning silently lit up the sky and, for a brief moment, their surroundings. Luke's jaw was working hard on a root. Something sweet, indeed.

The flash of light jolted Bill with a dose of gumption. He decided to start the search where his troubles began, just below the Crook.

THE CLEARING
STILL
bore marks of the struggle. He could see where the cage had rested: The grass was dented, with shallow scratching in the dirt. It hurt Bill to imagine Elena with her little claw bared, digging helplessly into the ground just before she was carried away.

Maybe Teddycats would be better off without their claws
, thought Bill. As far as Bill knew, his species knew
how
to use them in every way—hunting, gathering, shelter, surgical procedures—except for the one they were allowed under only the most dire of circumstances: self-preservation. Maybe it was better to be unremarkable, squeak below the radar. Not that those circumstances helped the Olingos, who were
continually forced to uproot and resettle at the whims of any invasive species that happened through their warren.

“Returning to the scene of the crime,” said Luke. “Isn't that . . . dangerous?”

“It's the only lead we've got,” said Bill. He circled the clearing until he found a trail marked by trampled underbrush. “This way,” he said.

BILL'S
UNDERSTANDING OF
the jungle was limited to only a few landmarks—Cloud Kingdom access points, the fort, Luke's place—and the wide swaths of thick, unknowable wilderness between them. As they burrowed deeper, he found himself growing increasingly disoriented, almost upside-down. The moon was slowly dropping. Soon morning would be upon them. Bill was fairly sure he could still turn tail and follow their own steps back to the clearing, but if they were forced to zig or zag or head for the trees and swing to safety (with Luke on his back, of course), they could potentially find themselves dropped down in the middle of nowhere.

Bill restored his resolve by remembering the way Maia's face had fallen when he told her the news about Elena. He shuddered. That tactic would work—maybe too well—for many years to come.

“I don't even know this Jack guy,” said Luke. “Who's he again?”

“He's a scout,” said Bill. “Remember I was telling you about Diego?”

“The old guy with one eye?”

“Right,” said Bill. “Jack is his scouting partner.”

“And he got taken by a human, just like that?”

“I'm not sure how it went down, exactly,” said Bill. “But let me ask you a question: How long do you see yourself lasting against Joe? Smoke everywhere, shiny blade.”

“Ha,” said Luke. “That question's not fair, 'cuz, see, I'm not a big, tough Teddycat scout with a deadly claw just itchin' to pop out of my paw at the first sign of trouble.”

Bill wheeled around. Now he and Luke were snout-to-snout in the misty moonlight.

“Do me a favor,” said Bill. “Don't badmouth the Cloud Kingdom scouts around me.”

“Hey, come on. You have to see things from an Olingo's perspective,” said Luke. “Teddycat scouts have never helped
me
out any.”

“Not everything is about you,” said Bill.

“That's rich, coming from a Teddycat.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You sit around up there in your hidden Cloud fortress, passing judgment on all the animals struggling down here in the
real
jungle.”

“That's not true,” Bill said quietly.

“You think you've got problems, Bill? You want to
talk about the food chain? We're at the mercy of more kinds of predators than you could imagine. Meanwhile, you guys have removed yourselves from the entire ecosystem. Good for you, but that makes you soft.”

“Let me get this straight,” said Bill. “
You're
callin'
me
soft?”

“That's right,” said Luke. “Just because you have those claws and can climb faster than me doesn't mean you're stronger.”

“Actually, that's
exactly
what it means,” said Bill.

“All I'm saying is, I'm sorry about your friends, but in the grand scheme of the jungle, that's
nothing
.”

Bill was fuming. He'd lost complete sight of why they were even down here together in the first place. The jungle was dark and foreign.

“I can't believe you,” he said. “
You
are the whole reason I'm in this mess! Because of
you
, I can't hold my head up back home. Because of
you
, my friends are in danger. Because of
you
, the future of Cloud Kingdom is in jeopardy, and all because
you
were badgering
me
about a visit. Well, you got what you wanted. Happy now?”

“I don't know about
badgering
,” said Luke. “That's a strong word.”

“It is a strong word,” said Bill, “but it's the right one.”

“I was curious about Cloud Kingdom. You've always known that.”

“Very curious,” said Bill. “And you know what they say, Luke, curiosity kills the . . .”

LUKE TOOK A
step
, and suddenly something fastened around his leg and yanked him ten feet in the air. He dangled and thrashed in the darkness, whimpering and howling.

A trap.

Bill stood beneath him, dumbfounded. He didn't dare move.

“Bill, help!” cried Luke.

“Hold on!” said Bill, willing himself to action. After all, Luke had saved
him
from a human. Even if Bill begrudged him that decision, it had still demonstrated friendship and bravery, both of which he owed in return. He slowly scrutinized the ground in front of him to try to pinpoint the trunk of the tree hosting the trap. He found it and began to inch his way over.

Just as he was beginning to form a plan, Bill heard a rustle. He froze, looking all around. Then, a little ways off, he saw a shadowy shape stomping out of the darkness and into a ribbon of moonlight.

Joe.

As the shape drew closer, Bill had no doubt it was a human. It clutched a big branch in one paw and a shiny thing in the other, and then, with a clicking sound, the branch began to flicker and glow. All was still and brilliantly illuminated.

The human reached down and yanked a cord, and the net holding Luke lowered to the ground. Bill watched, paralyzed, as the human grabbed Luke by the scruff of his neck and swiftly deposited him into a cage in his other paw. Luke thrashed and screeched, bouncing against the steel grate.

The human's voice was an ugly growl.

Bill's fur went straight and prickly. It sounded the way he had always imagined Joe would. The human's light landed on Bill, and their eyes met.

The human cackled and made a lunge for Bill, but the cage, wiggly with Luke, banged hard against its leg, and the human yelped and staggered. Bill leapt into the underbrush, burrowed to the nearest stand of trees, and scurried up into the canopy. The human's angry glowing branch followed him, just a step behind. Bill could hear the human's heavy breathing as it waved the branch up and down, back and forth, jittery and determined.

Bill looked down. The human stood at the bottom of the tree, methodically scanning the lower branches. Bill sucked in his belly, made himself as small as
possible, tucked his tail and his bindle under his rump, and squeezed his eyes shut. His claws were out, but hidden from the light.

The human bellowed in frustration.

Bill had been expecting a dangerous confrontation tonight—a daring jailbreak to free Elena from the hapless Joe. But this was not at all what he'd had in mind.

The human's voice grew a touch softer, so Bill chanced a look. He peeked between his forearm and tail. The human's stilted warble, gray complexion, and yellow eyes matched the terrifying descriptions of Joe that young Teddycats used to share on nights when they'd camp out together in someone's leafy den. So did the huge boots and sagging jacket, the skin streaked with dirt and sweat, the bandana high on the skull, the hint of gold in a crooked, sadistic smile. The cage rattled as Luke shook with terror, his eyes searching for Bill. The flaming branch fell to the ground, and the human dropped a black sheet over Luke's cage.