The Hirt

Chapter Ten

10

Heather rolled over onto her other side and tugged the thin blanket up around her neck.  She sighed and rubbed her sleepless eyes.  This was the second night in a row Heather hadn’t gotten an ounce of sleep.  She heard Matt snoring slightly in the other bed.  After Jimba had discovered the hand under the bed, the girls had run out screaming to Damien.  His face turned pale as ghost, and he silently ushered the girls into the boys’ room. After they retold the story to the boys, the room was deathly silent.  The Kidellians cautiously checked under their beds, but the coast was clear.  Damien solemnly nodded, and shut off the light, leaving them with just a dim lamp on the bedside table, and shuffled down the hallway to his own room.  The Kidellians didn’t say a word to each other; they were all too shocked to conjure up a sentence.  Jimba pulled one of the blankets off of the bed and set it down on the floor between the two beds.  Heather stood, paralyzed, as the severity of what they had discovered sunk in.  Matt, who was standing next to the door, walked past her and lightly patted her back.  His hand lingered on her shoulder slightly, until he walked over to the bed and flopped down.  Henry looked over at Heather worriedly, and opened his mouth to say something before he lost courage and just slid into the same bed as Matt. 

Ivy lightly touched Heather’s shoulder.  “Come on, let’s get some rest,” she whispered.  Heather tore her gaze away from the floor and trudged over to the second bed with Ivy. 

Heather rolled over again and stared at the blank wall, unable to sleep.  She knew the kittens in the road, the hand, the emblem, and Lykos were all connected, but didn’t know how.  She knew for a fact the kittens were the kittens from the emblem.  It couldn’t have just been a coincidence.  She thought back to the street, trying to connect all of it.  She could almost hear the innocent yet malicious meows.  Heather’s ears perked up.  Wait a second, Heather thought.  She strained her ears.  Silence.  She must have just heard the meowing from the incident in the road. 

A distant meow made Heather abruptly sit up in the shared bed.  She heard it again.  Looking over at Ivy, she made sure that she was undisturbed.  When she heard Ivy evenly breathing, Heather slowly crept out from under the sheets.  She tip-toed towards the door, and pressed her ear against it, listening for the noise again.  A good five seconds of dead silence passed before she heard the quiet meow of a cat.   Eyes wide in the darkness, Heather felt around for the doorknob and unlocked it.  She slowly swung the door open and slid out, shutting it behind her silently. She paused, and took a deep breath before turning around.  Expecting to see a small kitten sitting outside of the door, Heather was shocked to see absolutely nothing in front of her.  She looked to her right and did a double take.  A little way down the hallway she saw a slip of paper.  Heather walked over to it with light steps, and bent down to pick it up. 

On the paper was the emblem with the kitten, horse, snake, and falcon glaringly menacingly back at her.  She studied the blue section of the kitten, and paid close attention to the phrase underneath the kitten, Nihil Est Ut Videtur. 

All of a sudden, Heather was whooshed to another place, another time, and another person.  Everything had that familiar golden hue to it that seemed to come with any visions or Kidellian powers.  A pair of veiny old hands shakily held a piece of paper with the emblem on it.  One of the trembling hands pointed to the section with the kitten.

A worn out, raspy voice whispered, “Nothing is what it seems.”  It sounded like a woman.  Then, the ancient hand slowly crumpled the emblem.  As she was wrinkling up the emblem, the old woman giggled maniacally.  Heather couldn’t see her face; it was as if she were seeing everything from the aged lady’s eyes.

Heather blinked, and she was transported back to the middle of the hallway, shivering and gripping the ominous paper.  Heather groaned, and held her forehead with her free hand.  She suddenly had an immense headache.  Heather glanced down at the emblem.  Nothing is what it seems.  She assumed that’s what the saying underneath the kitten said.  Or maybe she shouldn’t trust the crazy old hag from her vision?  Most of these visions, or connections, seemed to be pretty reliable.  Old women in general are pretty reliable.  But this one seemed a little, well, out of it.  But why would she lie about what it said?