“Tomorrow morning, I will take you through the mists,” he advised as she worked on building the requisite evening fire. She had spread her cloak on the ground close by, and Dirk had taken a comfortable seat on it.
She looked over at him. “You can do that?” she asked.
“Of course I can do that,” he replied, sounding a bit put-upon. “I live there, remember? I know all the paths and passageways.”
“I suppose I just wasn’t sure what you could or couldn’t do.” She rocked back on her heels. “I didn’t know if fairy creatures could pass out of the mists anywhere or into any land. I thought it might be limited somehow.”
Dirk yawned. “You thought wrong. Cats can go anywhere. Nothing new in that.”
“Do you know where we will come out?” she pressed.
He thought it over a moment. “A city, I think. Does it matter?”
She felt her exasperation with him getting away from her. “Yes, it does. I am going back to a world in which I once almost died. I am doing so against my will and for the sake of my child. I want to go there, do what I was sent to do, and leave again immediately. What are the chances of that happening?”
Dirk rose, stretched, and sat. “I haven’t the faintest idea.” He regarded her solemnly. “It all depends on you, I suppose.”
“Yes, but I don’t know where we are going,” she insisted. “I know I am supposed to gather soil from Ben’s world, but I don’t know where that soil is supposed to be found. It is a rather big world to be looking through, you know.”
“Well, I don’t know,” the cat said. “I have never been there. But everywhere is pretty much the same to a cat. I am quite certain we will find what we need without having to look too hard. I have a gift for uncovering secrets.”
She went back to building the fire, finished the job, stepped back, and looked over at him. “How many secrets do you know, Dirk?” she asked quietly. “Do you know secrets about me?”
The cat blinked. “Of course.”
“And about Ben?”
“Holiday? Yes, a few.”
“Can you tell them to me?”
“If I choose.” Dirk began washing himself. “But cats are secretive by nature and tell little of what they know. It is because no one listens to us, mostly. I spoke of that often to Holiday when I traveled with him last. He was like everyone else. I would tell him things, but he wouldn’t listen. I warned him that he was making a mistake, that cats know many things, but no one ever seems to pay attention. It was a mistake he should avoid, I cautioned.”
“I will listen, if you will tell me something,” Willow offered. “Tell me anything, Dirk. Any of your secrets. I know so little of what is happening, and I am hungry for even a small bit of knowledge. Can you tell me something?”
Dirk looked at her, then began to wash. He licked himself fluffy and then licked himself smooth, stopping every now and then to see if she was still paying attention. He took his time with the job, but Willow waited patiently, refusing to become perturbed. Finally Dirk was finished, and turned his emerald gaze upon her.
“You are going to have a child,” he declared. “But matters will not work out as either you or Holiday expect them to. Expectations are dangerous things for parents to have, you know. Cats have none and are the better for it.”
She nodded. “We can’t help ourselves. Like not listening to cats.”
“I suppose that is true,” Dirk agreed. “A shame.”
“Tell me something more.”
Dirk narrowed his gaze. “Are you sure you want to hear what I have to say? I mean, that is part of the reason no one listens to cats.”
She hesitated. “Yes, I want to hear.”
“Very well.” He considered. “You and Holiday will be lost to each other for a time. In fact, you are lost to each other already. Didn’t you know?”
“The vision,” she said softly. “My mother’s vision.”