Flickering Creatures | ONC 2024 | ✔︎

(8) Not In Vain

The morning's sun had clouded over in the time they'd been inside. The air hung cool and damp and heavy over the forest; the rain Bella had predicted this morning was approaching faster than she'd anticipated. Outpacing her companions, Bella landed on the peak of Daphne's house and assessed the clouds until Daphne and Titus arrived. Daphne beckoned them both around the corner.

"It's probably better if my grandma doesn't see you two," she said. "She might start asking questions. I'll distract her while you get to my room; it's the one right here." She tapped the nearest window. "Is that alright?"

"Sounds appropriate to me," said Titus. "Will your door be sufficient to block out our conversation?"

"It will be once my grandpa starts cooking. He might be already. He likes to start a few days before Wightnight, and my grandma always goes to the living room to stay out of the way. If we keep our voices down, we should be okay."

Titus nodded, and they crept back around the corner together. Daphne peeked through the door's high window before waving Titus and Bella inside. Footsteps started almost immediately down the hall.

"Daphne? Is that you, honey?" called an older woman's voice.

"Quick, under here," hissed Daphne, struggling out of her coat. She slung it over a nearby table just in time for Bella and Titus to dive into its shadow. Daphne straightened up, whacked her head on a hanging lantern, and sheepishly greeted her grandmother. They headed for the kitchen together.

"Oo, visitors?" said a cheerful voice behind Bella. "Hello, visitors."

Titus leaped in the air with a startled hiss. He and Bella whirled around to find a chunky orange cat peering around the coat's hem. His tail waved happily. "Oh, you are visitors! Hello. Are you friends of Daphne's?"

"Keep your voice down," whispered Titus, eyes darting around and tail still puffed. "We are, but we'd rather not announce ourselves."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about anyone here. They're all friendly!" The cat pushed past the coat to join them beneath the table, well into Bella's personal space. "Are you hiding? This is fun. It's like a fort. Do you like forts?"

The question was directed at Titus, who replied tersely that yes, he did enjoy forts and also quiet voices, a concept this cat seemed ill-prepared to grasp.

"My name's Charles," he announced proudly, though nobody had asked. "I live here."

Titus's stiff hackles told Bella he was maintaining his patience with an effort. Leaving him to distract the newcomer, she checked if the coast was clear. Daphne and her grandmother seemed to have gotten stuck in the kitchen doorway, chatting with her grandfather. Daphne caught Bella's eye and made a covert signal to wait. Bella sighed and retreated again.

"Even the plants here are very friendly," Charles was saying, with all the blithe confidence of a creature who had never faced an unkind peer, predator, or empty bowl in his life. He prattled on about the house's food smells, the scraps he sometimes got fed, the delight of the living-room yarn basket, the birds he sometimes saw outside, and had just launched into some inane approbation of paper Wightnight streamers when Titus interrupted him.

"May I ask a question?" he said. "It's important to someone we care about."

Charles lit up like a Wightnight lantern. "Oh, you live with someone, too? Do they also feed you scraps?"

"Does anyone in this house ever visit Baneberry Bog?"

Bella and Charles both froze. Charles' eyes had gone comically wide, reflecting the dim light behind the coat.