Yari Foxwood's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Yari barely made it back to the bungalow before they swarmed her. Three grey wolf pirates came over the moss-shingled roof in a rush of boots and rope. She drew the curved blade, but a club caught the back of her skull. Her knees folded. The world tipped sideways into dark. A black streak shot from under the porch. The family cat hit the nearest pirate full in the face, claws raking deep across one eye. The wolf howled and flung him into the wall. The little cat landed hard, ribs heaving, gold eyes burning as rough hands hauled Yari's limp body toward the door. Then the sword on the floor began to hum. Low, deep, alive. The orange-striped cat froze. From the back room, behind a loose floorboard, an answering call rose — a thin, eerie note from a wooden chest carved with a watching eye. It was not a sound for ears. It was a sound for the animal under the fur. He ran to it. He could not help it. The pirates were already dragging Yari out into the yard, but his paws moved on their own. He pressed his nose to the carved eye on the lid. The eye blinked. The latch sprang. Inside, on dark cloth, sat a single pearl the color of a cat's gold iris — the thing the pirates had crossed an ocean to steal, the secret the old captain had buried under his own floor. The pearl pulsed once. Light poured up and over the small black cat in a slow, silent wave. Bones lengthened. Shoulders broadened. Gold eyes lifted higher off the ground. When the light faded, the thing standing over the open chest was no longer only a cat. It heard the pirates laughing in the yard. It heard Yari breathing. It picked up the humming sword in a hand that had not existed a moment before, and it walked toward the door.