11 | FELINE

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The black shape rose above the bed—huge, smooth and feline. It was the leopard, more corporeal than ever, with wisps of ectoplasm leaking from its form. The eyes shone like white dwarf stars, their focus directed on her.

Binara sat motionless, hands clutching the bedding. A scream built up, ready to explode, but a nanosecond later, her vision scrambled. The animal's eyes were too close—or maybe she was sucked into them. The world polarized into light and dark.

Then it was all black.

All of a sudden, she found herself moving, and her surroundings became visible. The scene wasn't crisp at first, and the edges swam in and out of focus. This was not the walauwa. Stone walls loomed on either side, and wintry light lanced down from windows that were ridiculously high. The floor was too near, and there was something wrong about her movement. Maybe I'm dead or knocked out! Or this whole thing is a dream. Was the leopard part of it? No! It was there in my room. It was definitely there.

Strangely, her body was calm, and it walked of its own accord. On top of that, the way she perceived the world was different. Her sixth sense was absent, and as if to make up for it, everything else was heightened. Light, color and sound manifested in ways that were mindboggling. The windows only let in moonbeams, but they illuminated the hallway as bright as lamplight. The very air was a picture composed of molecules, foreign and confusing, with scent trails that even spanned time—from those that were days old to what was fresh. I really am high on shrooms. There's no other explanation.

Even though this resembled a lucid dream, Binara had no control at all—more a spectator than driver. The gliding motion also needed getting used to. At the end of the hallway was an arching door, partially open. The handle was above the level of her head—too high to be functional. Realization dawned.

She was on all fours, seeing through the leopard's eyes.

A thrill crackled within. No, no, this is insane! She struggled for control but to no avail. She was a prisoner in this body—an intruder in the demonic animal's mind. How did this happen? Has it teleported somewhere? Or I'm accessing a memory? There was no way that the animal was the Black Prince. Maybe a pet or some sort of familiar!

The leopard reached the doorway, and its muzzle nudged the crack wider. A mélange of smells formed an olfactory signature that it found both familiar and soothing. Inside was a darkened study.

As she ventured in, what struck her immediately was the window—a large moonlit orb beyond which was a balcony full of gossamer white plants. The sky was as black as tar, except for the moon, so big that it resembled a giant bauble. Her attention switched to the figure that stood silhouetted against it, back turned. Binara would've clapped a hand to her mouth if it was possible.

The shape was humanoid but for wings that sprouted from the back, russet brown and feathery. There was also something odd about the face, though it wasn't clear from her angle—a protrusion akin to a beak.

The leopard gave her no time to stare as its languid gait took her to a cushion in a corner. It sank to a resting position, its head low, which gave Binara almost a worm eye view of the furniture. Then the big cat fixed its attention on a divan on the far side, shadowed under a book shelf, though she willed it to turn to the birdman, who started to speak.

The words were unintelligible. Binara couldn't decide if he spoke ancient Sinhalese, Pali or Sanskrit—or even a language she didn't know at all. Fear mingled with fascination and lapped against the leopard's calm. She was wondering if the avian abomination was speaking to himself when she became aware of another occupant in the room.

"Garuda," a voice said from the divan, low and masculine, "tvam karumkian kumak?"

Another wave of fear washed over Binara while the leopard perked up. She strained to see, but her view only revealed a black cloak that spilled down the side of the divan.

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