The Orange Cat and Other Cainsville Tales (Cainsville 3.5)

"Work with me."

"Do it again."

I did, and he said, "It was farther away."

I took up position under a tree and tried again.

"Better," he said. "But head left."

I followed his directions. As I backed up, I was making my baby noises when I tripped and crashed ass-first into a thicket. Twisting to rise, I saw that the grass had been flattened, as if a fawn had lain here.

"You okay?" Ricky called.

"Just clumsy."

"Well, the direction sounds right."

I looked at the thicket again and thought of a whole other kind of baby animal nestled in it. I took out my penlight to shine over the inside of the thicket. There, caught on a bramble, I found threads. Pale yellow ones. Like the kind that might be used for a baby blanket.

I called Ricky over and told him what I'd found. He crouched outside the thicket. When I saw he was looking at the ground, I shone my penlight there to see a footprint. A bare humanoid footprint.

I took the yellow threads and folded them into a piece of notepaper. As I was doing that, Ricky's gaze swung toward the rock over the swimming hole.

"Hear something?" I whispered.

His lips compressed. I knew the look. He hadn't necessarily seen or heard anything, but detected it with another sense, one that made him far less comfortable saying yes.

&n

bsp; "Trust it," I murmured.

He leaned toward me. "Keep talking," he said, and then he cut through the thicket, crouched over as he moved.

"Okay," I said. "So we're not finding anything, and like you said, you aren't sure what you heard. We could go back into the water, but it's going to be freezing cold, and as much fun as that last encounter was, I'm not sure you'd enjoy an ice-water replay nearly as much." I paused. Silence, as I'd expect--Ricky moves like a Huntsman, dead quiet in the woods.

I kept talking. "Although, on second thought, that might be an interesting experience. Cold water. Warm mouth. Tell you what, I say we just forget this whole thing and go for a swim. I can use more practice giving underwater--"

A yelp. High-pitched, almost animal-like. Then a hiss that I knew came from Ricky. I rocketed from the thicket, racing in the direction of his hiss. I saw him falling back. By the time I drew close, though, he was running. Up ahead was a figure the size of a small woman, blond hair flowing behind her as she ran for the water.

Ricky tore after her with me in pursuit. A splash. I came around a tree just in time to see her feet disappear as she dove. Ricky stood on the edge, cursing.

"Follow?" I said. "Yes, I know, following a water fae into her lair is not the wisest idea."

"Yeah."

"Or the safest."

"Yeah."

"So . . .?"

He yanked off his shirt. We both stripped down and dove in.

Eight - Ricky

Liv had said the water would be cold. It should have been. Night was falling fast. So when they dove, Ricky braced for an icy blast. Instead, the water was the same temperature as before. Like an indoor swimming pool. That didn't make sense. Not only was the sun setting, but its rays would hardly have touched the surface of the swimming hole during the daytime. The water shouldn't have been this warm. Moreover, Laurel had mentioned the theory that the hole was glacial in nature. The deeper the body of liquid, the colder it should be.

He swam close enough to Liv to be sure the woman beside him is definitely her and not the fae. He could tell the difference now, even with the dark water. The fae's skin was paler, her hair lighter and longer.