Andre Norton - The Gate of the Cat

“Much in Escore is legend come to truth,” he said. “How did you get here—did you not see the Fooger Beast—?”

“I slept for I was wearied; I awakened here,” the witch returned. “The Fooger—!” It was as if she had bitten on something harsh and stinging.

“The Fooger. We are within it, Witch. And I do not think that any power of yours is going to get us out.”

She pointed to the gem still swinging from Kelsie’s hand. “There are two of these and,” she gestured at his sword, “and what you carry.”

“These against that which shaped the Fooger—” His lips quirked at the edges into something which was certainly not a smile but suggested derision.

“Small stones to bring down the enemy full armed and with weapons which we may not have known before. How come you here, Lady?” He swung so sharply to Kelsie that she stammered over the first word of her answer. But she told as swiftly as she could of her journey down the dark passages and her final emergence guided by the witch to this place.

His frown grew. “Thus I was brought also—by your calling on me. Have you thought that perhaps that which holds us wanted us together so that it might wait and see what we should do then, what power we can summon to break us out?”

Kelsie accepted the logical reasoning of that but Wittle shook her head vigorously. “Such as you envision, warrior, would not wish even the smallest of Light weapons to be used within its hold. Balanced always is the power and if that balance shifts but a trifle, the merest finger’s breadth or less, then all within its range are affected. Why do you think they left us these?” she waved her jewel in Yonan’s face. Because they cannot handle what might be provoked into life should they meddle with them. Yes, it is true that they may have brought us together for some purpose of their own but also it may be as a test—to see if we dare to stand up to their might.”

“You speak of 'they,'” Yonan said. “Who are these then? Sam Riders and Thas? Their like we know. But the Fooger—”

“Is perhaps lying dead!” snapped Wittle. “What is death but a gate and we of the mysteries know many gates. Was not the adept Hilarion summoned back through the one he himself had opened when the Tregarth traitoress went a-meddling? So I speak of 'they’ and you would know who and what they may be? Think upon your darkest nightmare and then count that light against what comes from the Dark, warrior.”

“If they would test us, why bring us together?” he said musingly as if he asked that question of himself and not of Wittle. But Kelsie thought she could answer that.

She had settled down again on the sweep of clean gravel and was slipping the jewel from one hand to another.

“They would see what we can do when we try to defend ourselves—the three of us together—

Wittle favored her with a grimace. “Have I not already said it? And have we not already given them a showing of banner in that we HAVE come together?”

Yonan stood looking about the cavern. It was perhaps larger than the one which held the basin of fire, but the most of it was choked by the growth. And the constant stench of that made Kelsie nauseous so that she was like to lose the small mouthfuls she had taken. It was Yonan who moved first. Without a word to Wittle he used the Point of his ensorceled weapon and drew about the three of them a five-pointed star, digging deep in the sand and gravel to keep the line intact. Wittle watched him and for the first time Kelsie saw a shade of astonishment on the witch’s face.

“What would you do?” she demanded. He neither answered nor looked to her but out of his belt pouch he took a mass wrapped in a withered leaf. Kelsie caught the unforgettable aroma of illbane. At each point of the star he laced outward and, spearing a bit of the crushed herb on his sword point, he planted it in the ground.

“Fool!” Wittle came to life and moved as if to erase the marking nearest her. He swung around and in a quick movement slashed downward before her the sword as if so locking her in.

“They will come,” she screeched at him, both her hands cupping her jewel. “To set up a place of power within their own holding—you are a madman.”

“I am one,” he returned, “who wants to see his opponent. Fighting blind here will avail us nothing. Do you,” now he spoke directly to Kelsie, “take your jewel and,” he turned a fraction toward Wittle, “you know the signs—use them and let her follow. We are now locked within this hold, better that we learn what will come of us—

For a long moment Kelsie thought Wittle would refuse. Then stiffly as if each gesture she made was forced out of her, she knelt and reached out one long stick-thin arm so that she might use the point of her jewel to draw in the Clipping ground a line here, a circle there—and more intricate symbol somewhere else. When she had done in the first of the points Yonan gestured to Kelsie so that the girl squatted on her heels and tried to copy the signs—though she doubted much her ability to match them, so loose was the soil. Around the inner part of the star the two of them crept, Kelsie duplicating as best she could all that Wittle did.

She had more than half expected that the witch would utterly defy Yonan’s orders, yet she tamely obeyed him. Perhaps within her she thought that what they did might establish—for a space—an island of safety.

Only it was not meant to work that way. For when she had done and arose, Kelsie behind her, she favored Yonan with a display of yellowish teeth which surely was no smile.

“SO—the bait awaits, warrior. What do you expect to bring into being by defying the balance here?”

“What you wish to see as well as I,” he replied. “I do not fight blind when there is a chance of seeing openly.”

“You shall see,” she cackled. “Oh, yes, you shall see!”

Kelsie swung about where she stood and began carefully to examine the vegetation on each side, turning slowly. So grotesque was that growth and in such tangle anything might be creeping upon them now unseen until it reached the very edge of the open space. That they were now bait she firmly believed.

But as the minutes passed, her heart beat slowly. She could see nothing moving and the growth remained the same. Nor did anything come out of the river. Wittle spoke first.

“They know how helpless we are,” she said grimly, “why trouble themselves with us?”

“Balance,” Yonan said firmly. “Balance. In the heart of their own holding there is this.” With his sword he pointed to the star about them. It seemed to Kelsie that she could smell the fragrant freshness of the illbane combating the stench of the growth.

A tendril of haze snaked out from that murk which clothed the stream. It was almost like the weighted line Yonan had used to bring down the birds in his hunting, but this was aimed at them. It curled like the lash of a whip through the air. But when it reached the star it snapped back.

Wittle again made that harsh sound which was her laughter. “Do you think that is all they have to send against us?” she demanded.

Yonan did not answer. He had stooped and picked up one of the small stones which studded the sand at his feet. Now he blew upon it and then spat, rubbing the moisture into it with his thumb. Having done so he rubbed the stone three times against the Quad iron of his sword hilt and called upon a name Kelsie had heard him summon before.

“Ninutra!”

Out toward the questing tongue of haze he hurled the stone. It passed through that arm of mist and that lifted for a moment so that Kelsie saw the stone fall into the red river. The liquid there roiled, churned, droplets arose to sprinkle the vegetation which straightway fell into a black liquid rot. And the mist snapped back toward its source.