One by one, the cats crept into the cave. Their fur was streaked with mud and their eyes stretched wide with fear, reflecting the cold moonlight that filtered through a crack in the roof. They crouched low with their bellies close to the ground, their gazes flickering from side to side as if they expected to see danger lurking in the shadows.
The glimmer of moonlight was caught in pools of water on the cave floor. It lit up a forest of pointed stones, some rising from the ground and others hanging from the cave roof. Some of the stones joined in the middle to form slender trees of gleaming white rock. Wind gusted through them, ruffling the cats’ fur. The air smelled damp and clean, and was filled with the distant roar of falling water.
A cat stepped out from behind one of the pointed stones. He was long-bodied, with lean, muscular limbs, and his pelt was completely covered in mud that had dried into spikes, so that he looked like a cat carved in stone.
“Welcome,” he meowed in a rasping voice. “Moonlight lies on the water. It is time for a Telling, according to the laws of the Tribe of Endless Hunting.”
One of the cats crept forward, dipping his head to the mud-covered cat. “Stoneteller, have you had a sign? Has the Tribe of Endless Hunting spoken to you?”
