Coaxtl took the rabbits in her mouth and hopped lightly onto the ledge, looking down at Goat-dung, who stood knee deep in the pool on the floor. The birds were clutched in her hand.
Coaxtl had already torn the head off one of the rabbits. Goat-dung looked back up defiantly.
“Well, I’m sorry, cat, but this water leaves me no place to stand and no place to eat the birds even if I wanted to eat them uncooked with all the feathers on. I know I’m spoiled and selfish, but I’m also cold, and I think if I don’t have a fire I really will die.”
This time the cat did speak. YounglingI will not call you Goat-dung if you are in my charge. That is no fit name for a cub. Names are important and having yours, I am charged not to eat you, but really, who would want to eat someone named Goat-dung anyway? You must choose another name. I digress … Youngling, you seem to have trouble making up your mind what will kill you. Out on the plains you feared the openness. In here you say you are cold and cannot take the water. Probably beyond in the cave it is warmer. You could explore, like any other cub, and leave me in peace to finish the meal I have so graciously provided.
“Beyond lies the Great Monster,” Goat-dung said, and then realized that she didn’t care. “Very well, I will go alone, but it is dark back there and I may become lost and die, as well.”
You are inconveniently frail, the cat growled, abandoning the bird to hop down from the ledge with a splash. Follow me. I will not endure this string of constant complaints.
Goat-dung knew she was disgusting and whining and weak, but at least Coaxtl had not yet cuffed her, even with sheathed claws, much less bitten or clawed her. That was an improvement over the Shepherd and his flock.
The cat padded rapidly ahead, and for a time Goat-dung could follow by the splashing of the big paws in the pool; but then her own, now bare, feet touched dryness, and the cat’s pads were nothing but a whisper that soon disappeared. “Coaxtl! Where are you?” she called. “I can’t see you.”
Can you not? Silly cub. I’m right in front of your eyes.
“Yes, but I can’t see in the dark.”
Can you not? the cat asked, her voice in Goat-dung’s head genuinely surprised. No fur; a stupid name, no claws, puny teeth that can’t bite through feathers, and half-blind as well. You would have been better off if I’d eaten you, child.
“II suppose so,” Goat-dung said. “I know I’m a terrific bother but if you are going to help me, and you don’t know how stupid and weak I really am, then I thought you wouldn’t know how …” She floundered, at a loss for words, realizing she didn’t deserve help, that she should have gratefully accepted any tiny thing the cat offered her, and that all of her talk only proved that what the flock said about her was absolutely right. But really, she had no idea at all what to do with the birds, and the Shepherd had always been very specific about the dangers of eating uncooked meats.
There’s no help for it then, the cat said. Take hold of my tail, but don’t pull, or I may kill you without thinking about it.
Coat-dung groped with outstretched hands and felt a brush of air go by her twice before her palm encountered a sturdy furred appendage, less like the flexible tail of a smaller beast and more like a child’s arm in a fur coat. She gently took hold of the end of it, and the cat proceeded at I a slower pace.
How long they walked, she had no idea. They descended, twisted in the corridors, and climbed, only to descend again on the uneven flooring. Several times she bumped into large columns, some coming up from the floor, some hanging low enough to bang her head, and she cried out for the cat to stop. In order to keep from pulling the tail, she had to let go of it.