The Cat Who Knew How to Cry

7. THE GREAT CURTAIN (part 2)

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That evening Anar reached The Punishing Claw's Den without any trouble. He had hardly entered the hall when he noticed movement – a shadow flickering behind a column at the foot of which Aniallu's books and things were placed. It definitely wasn't a tal sianae. He sniffed. The air was distinctly filled with an unfamiliar scent, but Anar did not know what kind of creature it could belong to. Not an animal, not an Alae, not an elf, not a human. It was something else, something Anar had never come across before, and he therefore did not know what to expect.

He lowered his hood and drew close the folds of his dark cloak, then moved silently forward into the column's thick shadow. When he had moved far enough, Anar took a few steps to the side and, at the risk of betraying his presence, stepped into the light so as to behold the unknown beast. Dressed in something that sparkled silver, it was rummaging dutifully through Aniallu's papers. The creature did not notice Anar, who had returned into the column's shadow and was stalking towards it. Setting its thin paw in the tal sianae's rucksack, it extracted a small vial and began sniffing it, greedily sucking the air into its large nostrils.

This feeble creature with its thin paws resembling gnarled dark-colored twigs, and long, undoubtedly strong and dexterous fingers, was most likely a nguu. Anar had read about their fierce and malicious nature in one of his contraband books about life beyond the Curtain. It talked about an expedition by a band of adventurers throughout the woods of Enhiarg woods in search of a certain ancient relic.

The nguu took another deep inhale of the smell coming from the vial and blissfully closed its big eyes. Seizing the opportunity, Anar quickly shot off the floor and in one adroit jump landed next to the creature. Not wanting to get blood all over everything, which he suspected was supremely rank, the Alae grabbed the nguu by its slender throat and prepared to choke it to death. But before he could give it a good squeeze the creature let out a bloodcurdling scream. The noise was so ear-splitting that Anar almost dropped the damned thing.

Aniallu, who had been curled up in peaceful slumber in the downy depths of her sleeping bag, was startled awake by this gut-wrenching cry. Mentally cursing herself for her carelessness, she shot out of her cozy nook like black lightning and threw herself towards Anar, quickly taking bipedal form in the process.

"Have the priests stripped you of your last wits? Let him go!" she ordered, coming to a halt next to the Alae, rendered senseless by the shriek.

"But it's a nguu!" Anar objected, in his shock forgetting that arguing with a tal sianae, albeit an unusually gracious one, probably wasn't a good idea.

"You're the nguu, with those black ears on a light mug," spat back the disheveled Aniallu, crinkling her nose in a very cat-like way. With some elusive motion she unclenched Anar's fingers and snatched the half-suffocated creature from his hands.

"It's no nguu!" the sianae mumbled, laying the puny creature on the edge of her sleeping bag.

She fingered the "nguu's" neck to make sure nothing too awful had happened to him; once satisfied, she calmed down markedly.

"Um, what is it then?" Anar asked, bewildered.

He could now get a good look at the "nguu's" unusual garb. It was made of thousands of tiny silvery fish, all held another by some incomprehensible design.

"This is Igshaag, Master Is-anshu-roimri. He's aiding me in decoding your holy texts. However," Aniallu yawned widely, flashing her long fangs, "we haven't yet been able to find anything interesting about the Curtain. Nothing but praises to Agir IX. Oh, how great he is! Oh, how powerful! But praise alone isn't enough," she finished, looking pointedly at Anar.