KILLYAN PICHÉ's Arc

Chapter 5 of 8

The cat let Killyan touch it once. But Granny's warning came true fast. The next night, a growl rolled out of the trees near the barn. Deep. Wrong. The cat's ears flattened, and it bolted before Killyan reached the porch steps. Every night the growl came back, and every night the cat ran. He could not get close. The wand had woken something, and that something was between him and the cat now. Harlow showed up the next afternoon with a bag of Doritos and a plan already made. His blond mohawk stood stiff in the wind. "I heard it last night from Granny's house," he said. "That's not a bear. Not a real one." He crunched a chip. "Real bears don't click when they walk." Killyan hadn't thought about the clicking. But Harlow was right. The growl had a tick under it, like metal. Catou came out of the ranch house wiping grease off her hands. She worked steel, so she knew sounds like that. She stopped at the edge of the yard and stared at the dark tree line. "I know that noise," she said. Quiet. "Gears. Bad gears." "What is it?" Killyan asked. She didn't soften it. "Something old. Something the wand woke up. Granny's always been scared of it." She looked at Killyan. "You want the cat, you deal with that first." Harlow pulled Killyan toward the barn wall where the purple light still glowed. "Here's the thing," he said fast. "The cat trusts this light. So we don't chase the growl. We pull the cat past it." He pointed at the bracket. "We move the light to the far side. Away from the forest. The cat follows the glow, and whatever's in the trees stays in the trees." Raven had followed them out, careful not to touch the dirt. "That thing will eat the cat," she said. "Then me. End of story." But she stayed, which told Killyan she was scared and wouldn't leave alone. They worked fast before dark. Catou unbolted the light. Harlow carried it. Killyan mounted it on the barn's far wall, the side facing the house, not the woods. The violet glow spilled across clean gravel now. Night came. The growl started in the trees, closer than ever. Red points flickered deep in the dark, like eyes. Killyan's chest went tight. Then the glow caught the cat's glasses at the tree line. It hesitated. The growl rose. The cat chose the light. It slipped along the barn wall, past the dark, and crossed the whole yard to the new spot. Away from the forest. Away from the thing with the clicking gears. Killyan knelt in the gravel and waited. The cat came. It pressed against his knee again, safe on the bright side. The growl stayed in the trees. But now Killyan knew it had a shape, and it had red eyes, and it was not done with him.