faegildchaptertwo

Hags begin arriving in the Pit early on Hallow's Eve. Moonpaw watches them come and go. When they spot him sitting alone on his rock, their eyes glitter maliciously. He hears their muttered insults. "Milk-paw! Moonslime!" The other cats cast smug looks at him when they are chosen.

Finally Kotha appears, flying through the air - but not on a broomstick like other hags. She flies upright, arms rigidly at her side. Her long red hair streams behind her like the fiery tail of a comet. Moonpaw remembers the girl in his dreams but, before he has time to wonder, Kotha dives towards the ground, coming to rest in a cloud of green smoke just a few feet away from him. The few remaining hags skitter out of her way, clutching their own cats close. Ignoring them, she looks only at Moonpaw.

"Coom to me!" she says, and such is the power of that word that all the cats attempt to obey, clawing at their own hags in order to reach her. "Coom to me, Moonpaw!" When he hears his name spoken out loud, Moonpaw jumps into her arms, pressing his face into her greasy robe. Her sweat smells thick and rich and intoxicating. He rubs his head against her and she scratches his ear. Then, suddenly, everything vanishes and they leave the Pit.

Walls form around him and his hag. The room is so cold there's frost on the floor. For a moment he wishes that he could return to the shores of the brimstone lake, but he is bound to Kotha now. She drops him on the floor and picks up a skull bowl sitting on the table.

Moonpaw looks around the room. There aren't any windows and the only door is in a tall black cupboard that leans out of the wall overhead. He wonders how he's supposed to come and go. When Kotha opens the cupboard he peers inside. The shelves are filled with jars: glass, stone, wicker and clay. Kotha rummages among them until she finds the one she wants. The bottle is black with a long neck. She breaks the seal and pours seven drops of green mucus into the skull. Then she sets it down in front of Moonpaw. "Drink it." He hesitates. "Go on!" she says but, before he can obey her, something screams outside the hut.

"What is that?"

"Never mind the noise."

"Are we under attack?"

"No." She pushes the skull closer. "Drink it now."

Moonpaw sniffs it, suspiciously. "It smells bad."

"By my Law!" she cries. His face falls into the bowl, and the brew oozes down his throat while she chants:

"I raise power from out thy paw.
Thou must obey -
It is the Law.
Wield naught in thy name,
Yield all to my claim!
Paw, take heed of Dark Moon's Way,
Turn and twist to mock the day.
Be quick to serve,
Hold me in awe.
Thou must obey.
It is the Law."

When she's through, she stomps on his white foot. "By my paw!" he screams, and a green flame shoots out.

"By my Law!" Kotha shrieks back, waggling her fingers to dissipate the flame. "Learn why I hate the Wind!" She clenches her fists. "But for him, there would be no need for moon-touched cats." Moonpaw cringes against the floor, remembering his dream, her eyes and how they burn. "The world we see about us need not exist, if not for him," she says.

"Why? What did he do to you, Mistress?" he asks, curious in spite of his fear.

"He took me into his arms and showed me what it is like to fly." Her voice breaks and he looks up, forgetting to avoid her eyes -- but they are lost in tangled snarls of red hair.

"There is nothing else like it," she croaks. "He promised to teach me, but he lied - and so I paid a terrible price."

He starts to ask what it was, but she silences him with a single gesture. Then, reaching into her sleeve, she pulls out a small vial that she uncorks. The cloying scent of flowers clogs his throat. "Open your mouth," she says. He doesn't want to obey her, but he has no choice. He is not free. If only Sef would come….He opens his mouth, reluctantly, and she places a single drop of liquid on his tongue. "Now sleep! Sleep! And when you wake, you will feed me your dream."
He tries to argue, but the powerful drug seals his voice and he sinks into the dream.

(Sef! Sef! Sef!)

He hears cats chanting so he opens his eyes, hoping to see the white cat that vowed to free them all from the curse that binds them to their hags. Instead he sees the pale milk-white face of a woman - the woman with long red hair.

"Why are you here?" she asks him.

"Kotha sent me."

"No! Tell Kotha no. It is not time."

"Time for what?" he asks.

"She will know what I mean."

He cocks his head and looks at her with a puzzled expression.

"Go on," she says. "What are you waiting for?"

"I have seen you before," he says, "in my dreams. Do you have a name?"

She opens her mouth….

"Wake up!" Kotha says, shaking him roughly. Moonpaw wakes without hearing the dream woman's reply. Kotha's face looms over him. He turns away from her half-starved eyes.

"Tell me your dream," she says.

He shakes his head, unable to speak.

"By my Law!"

But, before he can obey, a dark blue shadow appears in the middle of the room, signaling the appearance of Kotha’s Unlit, Dark Moon. When Moonpaw smells his rotting corpse stink, he runs and hides under the table.

"Hello, sweetmeat," Dark Moon says. Moonpaw cannot see his face, hidden behind a shroud, but when Dark Moon speaks, his pulpy white lips sprout through a hole in the sheet.

Moonpaw growls deep in his throat.

Red eyes flare in Moonpaw's direction and the cat cringes against the floor. "Are you pleased with your new familiar?" Dark Moon asks.

"He is acceptable," says Kotha as Dark Moon takes her into his arms. "I've brought you a gift," he says, "as I told you I would after you claimed your final familiar."

Moonpaw cocks his ears.

"I do not see any gift," Kotha mutters.

"Kiss me first, and then I will give it to you." He raises the lower part of his shroud. Moonpaw sees rotting fangs. Kotha kisses him once, quickly, then tries to pull away, but Dark Moon does not release her. He wraps her tightly in his arms. Slime glistens on his dark blue skin. "Give me a real kiss," he says. She opens her mouth and the white grub that is his tongue detaches itself from his mouth and crawls down her throat. Their embrace lasts forever, until Kotha grows limp. Finally, Dark Moon relinquishes her. She staggers up against the wall.

"Here is your gift," he says, holding up an old, tarnished necklace.

"Where did you find that?" Kotha's voice trembles with desire.

"You dropped it in the grove that night you killed your son."

"You've had it all this time?"

Dark Moon shrugs.

"Give it to me," she cries as he turns away.

"Patience, sweetmeat," he says, "or I might get jealous." He dangles the necklace out of reach.

"Isn't this the locket Four Eyes presented you on your wedding day?"

Moonpaw's eyes widen.

"That is not why I want it," Kotha says.

"Of course not," he replies. "But I have to wonder why you were still wearing it that night -- after you had pledged yourself to me." He drops the necklace on the floor and Kotha snatches it up. "Go ahead and open it," he tells her.

She fumbles with the clasp until it pops open to reveal a lock of blue hair, the Wind Lord's hair.

“You can use it to enslave him," says Dark Moon. "That is what you want, isn't it, sweetcakes?"

Kotha's eyes gleam and she nods her head.

"Show me how grateful you are!" he whispers, hoarsely, pulling her towards him again. This time a kiss is not enough. His hands crawl underneath her smelly robe. She moans, and Moonpaw wishes he could do something to help her, but Mam said he must never interfere between Kotha and her Unlit. Growling, unhappily, he withdraws even deeper into the shadows, curls up in a ball, and goes to sleep.

Later, after Dark Moon leaves, Kotha hobbles over to the cupboard and pulls out a small wooden box. She makes a pass over it to dissipate the magic that keeps it locked. The cover springs open. She reaches inside and removes a pair of red slippers. Carefully, she slips them on over her naked feet. Then she picks up the fine leather boots that were Dark Moon's wedding gift. These magical boots are the reason she can fly without sitting on a broomstick like other hags. She puts them on over the slippers, to hide them. Then, slowly, she rises into the air and flies around the room.

Whoever wears the red slippers orders the world. So Faelin says. If that is true, then she might have a chance - as long as Dark Moon doesn't find out what she is planning to do. Kotha shudders, remembering their contract. One cat, nine moon-touched lives to do her bidding. After that, her soul belongs to him. That is the price she agreed to pay before she understood what it meant. That is the price every hag must agree to. Back then, it didn't seem real and now it is almost too late…unless she can find a way to escape but, in order to do that, she needs Mulciber eyes. Mulciber eyes have the power to make dreams real. That is why she needs Moonpaw's help. He is the only one who can hunt them.

"Wake up!" says Kotha. "It is time to earn your keep."

Moonpaw opens his eyes. A feeble morning light creeps through the cracks between the roughly boarded walls, but does little to dispel the thick nest of shadows on the floor.

"You have been sleeping long enough."

"I am hungry!" he complains.

"You will eat when your work is finished." She walks over to the hearth and opens a large clay urn. A spicy scent drifts through the room. Moonpaw sneezes as Kotha reaches into the urn and pulls something out.

"What kind of beast is that?" Moonpaw asks, staring at the corpse of a creature about twice as big as he is. "Is it the product of a spell?"

"No spell," says Kotha. "Just a Mulciber." She drops the corpse. Human arms flop against the floor. Human breasts reveal the creature's sex. Curly blonde hair covers her head, but that is where its likeness to a human woman ends.

Stubby horns protrude from her forehead and, instead of skin, she is covered in thick copper scales. Four reptilian legs end in long, curved claws.

"Beware those claws," says Kotha. "They can tear you to shreds."

"I am not afraid," Moonpaw boasts.

"Beware the tail as well. Its power can knock you off your feet."

"It has the eyes of a bug," says Moonpaw with disgust.

"The eyes house its soul and must be preserved." She nudges him towards the corpse with her foot. "Go ahead and learn its scent."

"It stinks!"

"That is because its soul is still trapped inside."

"Spook says souls are filthy and that is why mortal creatures die."

"Spook does not know anything about souls," says Kotha.

"How did the Mulciber die?"

"It does not matter."

"I don't want to die," he says.

"Only Mulcibers will die," she swears, "if you learn how to hunt them."

Moonpaw aims his paw.

"No! Do not aim your paw directly at them."

"Why not?" he asks.

"Because if you do, they will be consumed by the fire that comes out."

"But I thought you wanted me to kill them."

"I do, but they must be slain in the prescribed fashion in order to preserve their eyes."

"But Spook says...."

"It does not matter. Listen to me! Mulciber eyes have great power and I want them for a spell. You will get them for me. After you stun them, kill them as you would any ordinary prey. Then remove their eyes and bring them to me."

Moonpaw lashes his tail.

"Save your anger for the Mulcibers," she warns him. "They are fierce fighters, and Four Eyes is their protector. You will often find him lurking outside their hive. Be wary of him, for he is dangerous."

"I am not afraid of him either."

"He has sworn to destroy you!"

Moonpaw slashes at the air.

"No!" says Kotha. Something in her voice makes him pause and look at her, curiously. She clears her throat. "I have my own plans for him. In the meantime, I forbid you to harm him."

"Then how can I gain entrance to the hive?"

"Their hive has many entrances. He cannot guard them all."

"Why does he protect them?" asks Moonpaw.

"To annoy me. Why else?" she says, picking the Mulciber up by its tail.

"Spook says...."

"Do not listen to him."

"But he says...." With an exasperated cry, she swats him across the head with the corpse. Moonpaw tries to bat it away, but his claw catches in an eye and it pops, spraying him with putrid smelling juice. Moonpaw howls.

Kotha drops the Mulciber, and scoops him up off the floor. "It's all right," she grumbles, rubbing his face with the coarse hem of her skirt. "I am wiping it off."

"Will I die?"

"Do not be a fool!"

"But I got soul slime on me!"

"You did not."

"By my paw?"

"By my Law! Now, come. There is one more thing you must see." She pushes aside a rickety board in the wall. "Behold the woods, Grimly Going," she cries. Relieved to discover that there is still a world outside Kotha’s windowless hut, Moonpaw rushes to look. But, when he sees the thrashing, flesh-colored limbs writhing in agony, and hears their terrible shrieks, his heart withers with despair.

"Those cannot be real trees!" he says, averting his eyes from the nightmarish sight.

"Oh, they are real," says Kotha.

"But whoever heard of trees with pink bark? It almost looks like...skin!"

"It was skin once - when they were human."

Moonpaw gulps. "What are those misshapen lumps on their hides?"

"Malignant growths."

"Do they...hurt?"

She leers.

"What did they do to deserve such wrath?"

"They betrayed me, my pet. Observe them carefully. The same thing could happen to you!"

"I will never betray you," he vows. Then, to take her mind off such unpleasant thoughts he asks, "Are they dangerous?"

She waggles her fingers and a crow plunges from the sky. For a moment it lies motionless on the ground. Then the nearby trees turn their twisted branches towards the dead bird. Moonpaw watches with horror as roots snake up through the ground, coiling themselves around the crow. Delicate bones splinter and crunch. Moonpaw shudders.

"Do not worry," says Kotha. "There is nothing to fear. As long as you keep moving they will not have time to sense you, but do not stop!" She takes a small pouch out of her pocket and slips it over his neck. Moonpaw twists away, but the empty bag will not come off. A dried yellow crust stains the bag and fills his nostrils with the stench of Mulcibers. "Well," she says. "What are you waiting for? It is time for you to hunt"

Moonpaw looks at the burning embers in her eyes and hurries outside.