The Fire and the Sky (Book 3 of the... - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

May dove to the side, feeling the rush of the mountain lion as it landed heavily where she had been sitting only a split second earlier. Flapping madly, Fargus flew at the wild cat, dipping and diving into its face to buy May some time.
There would be no running away – at least not if May planned on surviving the ordeal, which she most certainly did. If Dom was to be trusted, all she could do now was be big, be loud, and fight.
Knowing the lion's claws made a mockery of her pocket knife, May ditched it in favor of the walking pole gifted to her by Seth.
"Hey!" she shouted, brandishing the pole like a baseball bat. She made her voice deep and booming as she took a few wild swings in the cat's direction. "Go away! Get out of here!"
The mountain lion snarled, its lips curled back to reveal jagged yellow fangs as long as May's fingers. It crouched low and stalked around her in a slow circle, seeking a moment of vulnerability.
What do I do now? May's mind screamed. If it came to a battle of will, there was no question of who would outlast whom.
She swung again, bellowing nonsensical guttural sounds at the animal as Fargus continued his own airborne assault. Still, the lion circled.
From the corner of her eye, May spotted her pack lying a few feet away. She wondered if she could use it, perhaps to throw at the predator or use as some kind of a shield. Without looking away from the lion, she sidestepped slowly toward the bag. She sank low, waving the pole with her left hand as she reached for the pack with her right.
But something about the motion spoke of weakness to the mountain lion. With a terrible cry it lunged forward just as May drew the bag up between them. She was knocked from her feet and hit the ground hard. Though the pack had taken the brunt of the attack, May's breath was forced from her lungs and a sharp stab of pain seared across her chest.
Blinded by both pain and shock, May could only flail where she laid sprawled on her back. White hot terror curdled at the back of her throat, but she forced it down. After everything she had survived, she refused to believe she was going to die alone in these woods. So she kept swinging.
The world around her was a mess of motion. There was a growl. Then, a flash of something pale and bright flashed above where she lay, followed by a furious yowl.
Another flash streaked passed, this time of grubby tan fur as the mountain lion was thrown over her and landed with a miserable shriek.
Though pain ripped through her body, May scrambled to sit up. She glanced down beyond her feet and the lion lurching to right itself. It turned its massive head toward her, shoulder blades hunched and fur raised in fury.
But the animal was no longer looking at May. It's eyes were trained on something behind her. Something that, unlike May and her desperate attempts at self preservation, actually seemed to scare it.
May considered turning – to lay eyes on whatever the mountain lion could possibly think was more fearsome than itself – when a ferocious roar boomed all around her. The lion wasted no time, kicking up dirt and leaves as it tore back into the underbrush.
Now, May twisted. Her eyes fell onto a massive creature, and whatever sense of relief that came with the mountain lion's departure vanished just as quickly as it had.
The creature was cat-like in its own right, with a lion-ish head adorned with tufted, pointed ears and heart shaped nose. It reared back onto its mighty hind legs and stared May down with fierce, vaguely human magenta eyes; slit pupils constricting at the sight of her. The soft silver of its fur and the downy mane that floated over its shoulders seemed at odds with its hulking size.
It was as if every ounce of fear May had been holding at bay bubbled to the surface at once, and she screamed.
The creature's eyes widened with surprise.
"I assure you, that is not necessary," they said, reaching one of their dinner plate-sized forepaws down to her.
May gasped.
And then she screamed again.
"Well, get it out of your system then." With a look that could have conveyed either embarrassment or distain, the creature sank back on their haunches and watched as May attempted to scramble away.
Unfortunately for her, the pain in her chest was nearly overpowering. Her exhausted legs gave a feeble quake before giving out completely, dropping her back onto her rear.
"What are you?" May squeaked, wincing with the effort it took to speak. She pressed her palm against the scar that marred her sternum and sucked in sharp breaths between her gritted teeth.
The creature stepped to her and again offered a giant paw, the toes of which stretched out finger-like. "No one for you to fear. I'm here to help you."
Trembling with both fatigue and fear, May considered the paw before her. At her side, Fargus watched the exchange curiously, cocking his head to her as if to ask what she was waiting for. May lifted her hand from her chest and reached for the creature's paw. In the fading light of the day, she caught the dark stain on her palm.
"Oh no," she whispered frantically. "Oh no, no, no."
"Oh dear," the creature muttered. "I think it's time for us to go."
May's eyes snapped from her bloody palm to the creature, who had picked up her pack and was examining it closely. "Go? Go where?"
"Be a love and use your little human fingers to extend those straps, would you?" The creature asked, nudging the pack at her. Shaking, she did as she was asked. She gawked, in too much disbelief to help, as the creature shimmied the straps awkwardly up their arms. "That should be fine, I would think. Shall we?"
And with that, the creature stooped and scooped May up in the crook of their arm like she were a baby. They cradled her carefully, pressing her securely into the softness of its mane and took off into a two-legged sprint.
As they sped away through the trees, May's mind went blank. It was as if she had left it behind on the Upper Range Trail. Her fingers gripped the downy soft fur of the creature's mane like her life depended on it, regardless of how carefully sturdy arms held her firmly in place. If her rescuer noticed the desperate tugging, they didn't let it show.
The world whipped by with extraordinary haste. May wondered how fast they were traveling and, more importantly, where they were going. But swaddled, baby-like, May was warm and calm. She listened to the bass drum beat of the creature's heart in her ear and somehow knew she would be okay.
The great cat paused and peered down at May, their eyes glowing faintly in the murk of dusk.
"All's well down there?" they asked, their deep voice reverberating through May's skull. She nodded politely. "Excellent. Now, you will probably begin feeling quite ill shortly. Altitude sickness is such a hassle for humans. Just stay calm – I'll have you feeling better in no time."
And just like that, they were off again.
As predicted, May was soon overcome with a relentless wash of nausea. Her head throbbed, compounding the pain already racking her tiny body. It was as if she were living through the worst hangover of her life but she hadn't gotten to have any of the fun first.
When the creature stopped again, May squirmed from their grip just in time. She immediately fell to her knees and wretched until there was nothing left to give. The air wherever they had arrived was blissfully cool against her flush skin. With a whimper, May slumped onto her side. Even with her eyes closed, she could tell she was alone.
It was difficult to tell how long she lay there, prone and quaking. Exhausted, she slipped in and out of consciousness until she heard heavy footfalls come to rest at her side.
"Up you go," the creature's voice purred gently as they hoisted her in their arms once more. "Everything's ready for you. Just relax."
Behind her eyelids an orange light glowed; a fire was burning. The snaps and pops of the kindling echoed around her. May didn't open her eyes until she felt herself lowered onto a plush surface. It was a nest-like bed made up of layers of quilts and fur pelts. The well worn groove in which she was settled made her think this was where the creature usually slept.
Raising her eyes, May realized she was in a cave. Shimmering walls of quartz-veined stone reached skyward like a temple of worship. Smoke from the fire at the center of the cavernous space was whisked upwards into the darkness like ghosts escaping into the night. Around her, May found all manner of brick-a-brack – books and paintings, dolls and lanterns, the valuable and the mundane – adorning shelves and tables and the floor. These treasures were both old and new; a collection that seemed to span centuries.
Her rescuer stepped back from one of the shelves, sprigs of herbs and bundles of branches clutched in their anthropomorphic paws. "When the smoke becomes fragrant, I want you to take several slow, deep breaths. In through your nose and out through the mouth. It will help you feel better."
"Okay," May croaked weakly.
The creature tossed the flora into the fire. Soon the cave was filled with a heavy musk. May breathed deeply and within moments she felt the sickness lift.
"Better?" The creature handed her a stoneware cup full of icy cold water, which she accepted gratefully.
"Very," she replied after a few generous swallows. "Thank you."
A satisfied smile spread across the creature's mouth as they settled down beside the nest. "Of course. I wasn't about to leave my namesake's beloved to die in the forest."
May, who had just taken another sip from her cup, immediately choked.
"Excuse me?" she sputtered. She heard what the creature said, but the words didn't seem to make sense. "Your namesake?"
There was a sparkle of delight in the giant cat's eyes. "My apologies, I've gotten ahead of myself. I am Emandi and, unless Welkin has led me astray, you little May, are the love of Emanthy's life."