Des finished washing her fingers after her meal of chicken, the first real food she'd had in days, and stretched lazily.

This perch on the steep rocky slope that wrapped around the outer edge was pleasant enough; being in summer, it was warm, and the stone under her held the heat nicely. She could see a long way, so no one could get near her. It had been a good place to alternately catnap and eat more of her captured chicken and idly watch pigeons and bees going about their business.

The sky was darkening, though.

Where were her friends right now? She already knew Theo was in a pond somewhere. She'd seen Alison run by, though despite Des making no effort to hide from her—in fact, moving almost into her path—she'd paid no attention to the cat, too deeply lost in some world of her own. The others, though, where were they? Were they all right? And where exactly was Theo's pond and was she doing okay, and where was Alison now?

Only one way to find out.

She leapt down off the rock to the next one below, and then down to the scrubby grass that covered the ground out here. This far from the house there were no tidy little gardens and neatly-trimmed orchard trees; out here, the trees were denser, and they were of different kinds, oak and maple and chestnut and white birch that she could identify, and she'd seen willows growing along streams and ponds in the wanderings that had brought her here. The ground was much hillier instead of mostly flat, and the terrain was far more varied and interesting. She much preferred this, though she frequently had the feeling that she was being watched.

Food was going to be an issue. Cats were, after all, obligate carnivores, and she rather doubted she could survive on vegetable matter even if she could choke it down. She wasn't at all sure she could stomach killing and eating one of the pigeons or bantam chickens. If any of her friends were house fae—and she'd have bet a pound of bacon that JC was—they might be able to help her steal food from the kitchen.

That was tomorrow, though, since she was currently comfortably full of chicken.

What was the best approach? A methodical sweep back and forth? Spiralling gradually inwards?

She decided just to start exploring whatever direction caught her attention and go from there.

She prowled around, pausing to investigate interesting trees and small freshwater streams. She wondered how to drink with her newly-feline tongue. Experimentally, she cupped a hand in the water and lapped at the puddle in her palm. That was an interesting sensation, having a tongue that could move that quickly and drew water up to her mouth so deftly, but trying to keep enough in her hand seemed inefficient. If she were more thirsty next time, maybe she'd try lying down flat so she could reach the stream directly, but that was enough for the moment. She licked her hand dry with her rough tongue, and straightened. The water was deliciously cool and fresh. Presumably that was thanks to the island's water cycling system, which according to JC's research was kept functioning and ever-moving by the enormous fountain placed exactly at the hub.

With the addition of a few more animals and the removal of a few humans, this could be a little pocket paradise.

Of course, animals needed to be kept in balance, and needed to eat. She wasn't sure what kept the pigeon population in check, but something clearly did so. The book JC had found said the bees and earthworms were magically cleansed of parasites and anything else that could make them ill, and that it was standard to do the same for any livestock or fish or pets added to an island. Insects were generally excluded because they readily became pests, which she approved of—no mosquitoes or blackflies to bite her bare skin, no ants or flies to get into her food if she took her eyes off it for a moment, no centipedes or unidentifiable things to crawl over her when she laid down. That book had mentioned that with care it was possible to create a sustainable ecosystem that required limited maintenance beyond keeping the island systems functioning at optimum.

Had that never been done here? Or had it been done and something had happened to it?

Cats, she decided. The island would make a wonderful place to bring cats. Not so much the ones that wanted human contact, but feral ones that weren't even in a managed colony, just out on their own. They could work out how best to share the space for themselves, and they'd be safe from danger and contagious illness. Bring in some mice first and give them a chance to get established, perhaps other small prey as well like fish or birds or frogs, supplement that with food just in case any were in no condition to hunt, keep an eye on them in case any needed vet care. Make sure they were all spayed or neutered first, obviously, since that removed some health risks and significant stresses as well as making sure they didn't fill the island in a matter of a few years. All this space could hold a lot of cats.

That would be a much better purpose than using it to kidnap faelings. Maybe they could find a way to overthrow their kidnappers and learn to use the Gate in and out, instead of just escaping.

She paused at another stream, and knelt to bat at some shiny round stones near the edge, where the water trickling past made them look like they were moving.

What was that?

A darker area on the side of a hill caught her eye; she abandoned the stones and ventured over to check it out.

A hole in the steep slope, not much more than knee-height, just a crack in the rock.

She sniffed at it, picked up faint traces she thought were fae, but nothing was in it right now.

Well, there wouldn't be any creepy-crawlies, so why not? She dropped to all fours.

She had to twist a bit to get her shoulders through the opening, but past that she had no trouble slithering inside.

Inside was absolutely dark; she felt around cautiously. Hard-packed dirt for walls and floor and ceiling, a rounded chamber high enough that she could kneel upright but no more, but slightly longer in any direction than she was tall.

Had this been built by earlier faeling victims, or was it part of the island itself?

It was certainly worth making note of where it was. It was possible the humans didn't know about it. She'd only seen it when much lower than she'd be just walking by. It would make an excellent den, hidden and large enough and close to water, in the current summer quarter so temperature wasn't an issue. She might even be able to think of a way to make it more comfortable for sleeping in. Would it work if she added long grass and maybe a blanket stolen from the clothesline? It sounded like a lot of work, though.

She crept back out and went on, not quite sure how she'd noted the location but sure nonetheless that she could find it again.

Following the stream took her to a very large pond, or maybe a very small lake—she couldn't readily guess the size, but the far side was some distance off. Circling it, she discovered that there was an island in the middle, and a marshy area at the other end, and lots of willows. Though she watched hopefully, she saw no sign of fish, frogs, or any other aquatic life, only a substantial growth of duckweed at the marshy end.

She decided to try going around the other way rather than crossing the soggy ground, which looked fairly extensive.

Towards the other end, the land began to rise, lifting the shore up above the surface of the water more and more.

She heard the surface of the water break, and looked down to see a long green-skinned arm with claw-like fingers reaching for her.

Des jumped back, putting more distance between her and the water's edge, and the arm receded. Only once it was out of sight and the ripples had smoothed away did she realize she had her hands on the ground and her back arched, her ears were down flat, and her tail was lashing furiously with the fur on end.

I won't laugh at Ryu anymore for getting startled and going all puffy-tailed, she decided, choosing a safe spot under a willow to smooth her ruffled fur and regain her composure.

Staying at least a body-length from the water's edge, she went on. At the other end the ground sloped steeply upwards and a small waterfall poured water directly into the pond, or lake, or whatever. That was easier to get around without wet feet. She went up and over, resolving to be more cautious about bodies of water. And were there other dangers? How dangerous had that water fae been, anyway, homicidal or just mischievous?

Given the old stories about water fae that dragged people into the water to drown them, best not to take the chance.

Was that wind? No, it didn't sound quite right, and besides, there was only a light breeze here, not enough to make the trees rustle that much. Which meant probably fae, quite likely the green fae that her friends had met the night they'd almost been caught. It would probably be wiser to just avoid them and go the other way.

Whatever was causing them to make a fuss, though, could involve one of her friends.

So, Des followed the sound.

It led her out of the warm summery area to a cooler area where the trees were only beginning to show leaves and flowers, and towards the outer edge to an area of open grassy ground.

She could see moving figures, and something behind them—a dome-shaped cage made of triangles of what might be shiny metal, large enough to hold something human-sized.

Or faeling-sized.

She shook herself, made sure her spotted sarong was tied, and sauntered out of the trees into the open.

The circling fae looked in her direction, and the rustling whispery murmurs grew louder, highlighted by at least two voices that were probably just soft but relatively normal.

They could be dangerous, she had no doubt of that, but they were between her and what she strongly suspected was one of her friends. If she showed no fear, maybe...

They moved aside to let her reach the cage; she felt cool hard fingers stroking her back and her furred hips, but ignored them. One hand wrapped around her tail, and that made her half-turn to glower at the offender, a petite male figure in what looked like a short kilt made of leaves, who quickly let go and spread both skinny-fingered hands in an obvious request for truce. There was still just enough light to catch on the familiar cuffs around both narrow wrists. Des' attention went back to the cage.

Inside, she could see pale scales, the exact shade hard to make out in the deep twilight, and a scaled tail, and short hair that was even paler, but darker skin where that showed. Even with an arm partially obscuring the figure's face, she could see enough.

She crouched beside the cage, and tried reaching through the bars, but Zach was too far away. Cursing her own lack of voice, she looked around for some way to get her friend's attention.

The small fae who had tugged her tail helpfully placed something in her hand: an acorn.

Des gave him a quick smile in return, reached through the bars again, and tossed the acorn at Zach.

He stirred sluggishly, and uncoiled just enough to raise his head and look around. Des waved vigorously to get him to look in her direction, but he only closed his eyes and curled up more tightly again.

Possibly he couldn't see her in the dark. Possibly, whatever he was didn't do well in the dark, either... or was it the cold? Did the scales mean that he was at least somewhat cold-blooded?

She sighed, decided to try again tomorrow, and turned away. At least she knew he was alive and safe, as far as she could tell.

The small fae slipped a hand into hers before she'd gone more than a few strides, urging her in a different direction. He said something, too, but it wasn't English, and Des couldn't even identify the language, let alone understand what he'd said. Still, the meaning seemed clear enough.

Des wavered briefly, but decided to go along with it and see.

She was glad she did: the small fae, who came barely to her shoulder, led her to another clear area, much closer to the centre of the island to judge by the flatter ground and the relative position and brightness of the faux moon. A waist-high rail around a ring of grass around sand, and most of the enclosure was a body of water much smaller than the one that had been home to the green-skinned water fae earlier.

Cautiously, she prowled up to the railing. She expected a magical barricade of some sort, but nothing stopped her from slithering under the rail and into the enclosure.

Getting wet was where she drew the line, though.

She went back out to look for something to throw at the figure she could faintly see in the water, currently motionless, and realized that the small fae was watching her with wide eyes and parted lips. When Des gave him a puzzled look, the small fae held out both hands ahead of him with those long thin fingers splayed improbably wide and walked towards the water; at the railing, his hands stopped, despite his visible straining to go past that point.

It doesn't work on me. Interesting.

The small fae gave up, shrugged, and handed her another acorn.

Des went back inside and took careful aim.

The acorn plonked into the water, and a few seconds later the surface rippled as the figure in the middle moved.

That was Theo, all right, though no more human-looking than Des was, now. But very impressive, nonetheless.

Theo waded to the edge of the water, but hesitated to step out altogether; Des met her there, pouncing for a hug despite the water dripping from Theo's long thick hair.

Her own happy purr startled her, and made her brace herself, but apparently the collar didn't recognize it as a vocalization, because there was no shock.

Theo grinned, shook her head indulgently, but hugged her back hard.

Neither was in any hurry to let go—especially Des with Theo gently stroking her hair and upper back—but no hug could last forever.

Theo pointed to herself and held up one finger—webbing quite visible between them—then to Des and held up another, then gave her a questioning look and held up her other hand spread.

Des shrugged, caught Theo's hand to trace a Z on it, then as an afterthought an A, since even though she didn't know where Alison currently was, she had seen her and knew she'd changed and was okay. Then she added a T, gave Theo a kiss on her forehead, and retreated back towards the railing.

Theo sighed but nodded understanding. She stayed there to watch for a moment, though. When a short way off, Des heard a soft splash, and glanced back to see ripples spreading but no sign of Theo.

The small fae who had guided her here had left while she was distracted. Too bad; she was grateful for the help, and would've liked a way to thank him, but how could she do that anyway? Another time, maybe.

The centre of the island was, she thought, still some way off, but it was as good a destination as anywhere else. She strongly suspected that JC would be at the house still anyway, and maybe she could find Erica and Suzi and Alison there or on the way.

She spotted a darker solid mass on open ground between trees and spiral gardens. Cautiously, she approached until she could clearly see the motionless kneeling figure.

That was Erica, definitely. Equally definitely, green fae. Des eyed her dramatic curves in the wooden corset admiringly, inched a little closer to pat curiously at the leaves of her skirt and discovered the web of vines that underlay it—and that, at least currently, had anchored their outer ends into the soil. Very earth-mother fertility-goddess, she reflected, but then, not so much of a surprise if that was what lurked inside the depths of Erica's mind. Her plants and her terrariums and even the community gardens were her children to her, and seeing people eat fresh food that she had a hand in producing gave her intense pleasure.

At least, under normal circumstances it did, rather than the enforced raw vegetarianism of the past couple of weeks.

Des laid a gentle hand on her cheek, and ran it down her arm; Erica's eyes flickered open, quickly enough to suggest that she hadn't been deeply asleep, and she scanned the darkness. Des caught her hand, and hesitated for a heartbeat over how to show who she was. Erica had seen her, though, in the kitchen. She ducked her head so she could guide Erica to her ears; Erica's fingers exploring felt surprisingly good, and she found herself purring. Erica let her hand fall but wrapped both arms around her in a fierce hug. Des felt her quivering slightly, and drew back just enough to see her face. Laughter, she decided, before Erica pulled her close again. What was so funny?

When Des finally let go and got up to keep searching for the others, Erica frowned down at her living skirt. Experimentally, she tugged at it, with care but also with several winces that Des echoed in sympathy while waiting. In exasperation, she finally shooed Des away.

Des kissed her forehead and gave her cheek a quick affectionate swipe with her own, and made a mental note of where Erica was so she could come back.