Pain throbbed at the side of Cole's jaw, and he tasted something hot and salty in his mouth.
'OK. Now I'm angry.' He thought.
The group of men were laughing and jeering while Rick cackled. "Ha! That'll teach ya, you--"
Cole punched at the punk's bearded face. Hard.
The huge man staggered backwards, a faint, dazed expression on his face, and tripped over a stool. With a loud THUD he fell on the dirty floor.
The room was still. Even the barman had turned off the stale music.
Cole stared at Rick, who stirred and groaned softly. 'Did I do that?' He glanced at his large, clenched fists. He knew he was strong, but...wow. That was some serious power.
A man with raggedy sand-colored hair rasped. "He--he just knocked down Big Ricky!"
They stared at him, all eyes wide with shock.
A man in the back of the crowd growled. "Let's teach this punk a lesson."
Cole suddenly leaped out of the booth, knocked over a couple of guys who didn't see him coming, and shoved his way out the crowd. He wasn't chicken, in fact, he enjoyed a good brawl once in a while. But he knew when he was outnumbered.
"Get him!" Somebody shouted. The crowd roared like thunder, and chased after him.
Cole ran down a shadowy hall off to the side of the room and caught sight of a flickering 'Exit' sign. He shoved at the door, only to realize with dismay that it was locked. He frantically rammed his body into the door, bruising his shoulder. Something inside the lock snapped, and with another shove he slammed open the rusty door.
He ran out into a narrow, stinking alley, where trash was scattered across the nasty pavement. Drops from the sky were falling; it was beginning to rain. He shut the door and raced down the concrete, angry shouts close behind.
Years of dance lessons had trained his body to be nimble and strong, he fairly flew down the maze of allies, panting and praying for an escape route. He kept turning corners, hoping to come to street, but only saw more walls of stone.
'I'm doomed.'
Yeah, teach Rick a lesson!
Oh wait, bad idea.
He's got some serious strength to break open a locked door.
Rain went pitter patter on the dark, dirty concrete littered with bits of trash, and small, muddy puddles were forming in the uneven shallows of the ground. Gold light shone out of dusty windows of the tall, looming buildings, providing faint light in the dense shadows of the narrow back alley. Cole raced to and fro in the maze of walls, desperately looking for a way out. Somewhere behind him angry shouts of the mob drew maliciously closer to their prey.
He turned a corner and found himself at the foot of a huge brick wall, much too high to even think of climbing over. At its feet were several ratty cardboard boxes and trash bags thrown into a messy pile. It was a dead-end.
He was trapped.
Cole spun around, expecting to see the group of men appear around the corner at any moment. He gazed frantically at his dark surroundings, but saw no escape. Trying not to panic, he squared his shoulders and prepared to fight for his life.
"Mrow."
He jumped at the sound. 'What was that?' He spun around in a circle, trying to locate the cause of the noise.
"Mew!"
A small, four-legged creature stepped into the faint gold light of a street lamp. Cole blinked in surprise. It was a cat.
The cat was a thin, ratty-looking tabby, its almond-brown eyes flashing in the dim light. It flicked its tail. "Mrow."
"Shoo." He snapped. "I'm about to get the snot beaten out of me, and I don't have any cream to give you." He turned away and stared back into the shadows.
The cat's ear twitched. It trotted forward, and with its spiky teeth, tugged at his pants.
"Hey! Cut it out!" He shook it off. "I don't have time for this!"
The cat glared at him, then trotted away.
"Sheesh. Darn cat." He muttered under his breath. "I'm about to be smashed in a dark alley, and my only company is an attention-seeking pussy. Could things get any weirder--?!"
"Mrow!"
He spun around, and was shocked to see the tabby standing smugly on top of the wall.
Cole stared incredulously at the cat sitting on top of the wall. 'How in the world did that cat get up there??' He knew cats could jump high, but surely not up a ten-foot tall wall!
He wiped a strand of soaking wet hair out of his eyes. The rain was pouring by this time, the cold rain chilled his bones. He heard some shouting behind him, closer than ever.
He trotted to the foot of the wall and gazed at the piles of wet bags and boxes. If the cat got over the wall, maybe he could...
"Mrow." Eyes like the moon shone from the shadows between two hulking trash bags. Cole crouched on one knee and peered into the stifling darkness. "Heerre, kitty," He muttered. "Here, kitty..."
The eyes disappeared. He leaned forward with one hand stretched out, expecting to hit the brick wall, but his hand didn't hit anything. He blinked, and his eyes began to adjust to the darkness.
At one corner of the wall, there was a hole hidden by the trash, just big enough for him to fit through!
"Hey guys! I see his footprints! He went this way!" Cole grabbed his backpack, shoved it through the hole, then crawled after it. After a fair amount of squeezing and wriggling, he crawled through and grabbed a garbage bag. He stuffed it in the hole, praying the mob wouldn't notice his escape route. At the sound of a horde of footsteps closing in, he froze and listened.
There was a moment of silence before someone exclaimed. "He's not here!"
"I'm telling you, I saw his prints! He was here!"
"There's no way he could have jumped over that wall! He must have turned left instead!"
"Come on, let's thrash the little punk!"
Cole waited a nearly full minuet after their voices drifted away before relaxing. He breathed a sigh of relief and slowly stood up, listening. The only sound was the rain falling.
He realized that he was standing on the outskirts of the town. Up ahead was a forest leading to a range of mountains. He searched the shadows for the brown-eyed tabby cat, but it had disappeared.
The hole doesn't explain how Matilda got up onto the top of that wall. However, she's no normal cat. . . .
Wary of running into the angry mob, Cole set out into the pine forest, heading for the range of mountains. He figured getting some fresh northern air would do him some good in any case. Shivering terribly and soaked to the bone in the pouring rain, he sought out shelter underneath the thick boughs of a ancient pine tree, and nestled himself awkwardly into a nest of dried pine needles. He wrapped his jacket tightly around his body and slept fitfully, dreaming of cats with stars at their paws and fire in their eyes.
He rose the next morning tired, sore, aching all over, and very hungry. The sky above the wet pine trees was a thick blanket of gray clouds, threatening more rain. He walked through the forest silently, while the land gradually sloped uphill and sometime around noon, he found an area where the trees weren't so thick, and stood on a ledge looking out over the mountainside. He gazed at the vast landscape of the world, for once realizing how big Ninjago was.
As he kept walking, the trees thinned, and were replaced by boulders. Mist seeped around the corners of cliffs. The wind began to whistle, making grass wave wildly.
It began to rain again when evening fell. Cole knew he had to find shelter soon, but the only sign of it was a grove of trees off in the distance, high on a cliff. If he could just scale that cliff, he could take shelter.
The rain poured viciously on him as he began hopping on and off rocks, trying to get a firm grip on the boulders despite the water making everything slippery. The wind howled that night, the trees above rocked side to side. He clung to the rocky cliffside desperately, trying to grab the next ledge.
His hand slipped, the rock was too wet. He was losing balance, he tried to steady himself. His head was light from hunger, but he had to hang on. If he fell from this height...
"No--!" He slipped, he was falling. He fell back, screaming. He hit something, his body throbbed in pain.
"You knew exactly what I meant!" Cole shouted in exasperation.
The kid grinned. "No I didn't."
"Yes, you did--!"
She then chanted in a mocking tone. "You didn't specify, you were too vague, I turned it against you! Now let's eat more chocolate!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"You can't stop me, you're just my escort!" She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Oh, yeah?" Cole had a sudden idea. "Just wait 'till I tell...SANTA!!"
The little girl gasped in pure horror, her small jaw slackening, which showed the disgusting mess of melted chocolate and bits of sticky candy in her mouth. Her eyes grew wide. "You wouldn't."
He bit back a grin. "Try me."
She was frozen in shock. "Don't tell Santa."
"Maybe he already knows!"
"How could he? It's like, summer!"
"He watches you all year."
She thought about it for a few seconds. "Maybe he does."
The vexed cashier cleared his sweaty throat. "Ahem. Are you going to pay for all that?"
The blond girl gazed at the sticky damage she had wreaked. "Can all this just be for free?"
"No."
"Why not? It's not that much candy, is it?"
The man sighed in exasperation. "Kid, I have to make a living."
"No, you don't."
He stared at her. "Uh, yeah, I--"
"I AM your living." She then stood up and shouted. "You should all live to PLEASE ME!!"
"Behave well." Cole growled.
She scowled at him. She was opening her mouth to say something when a feminine voice suddenly shrieked. "SUSIE! SUSAN MOIRA ANGELA REED! JUST WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING?!"
Cole whipped around to see a frazzled-looking woman with blond hair matching her daughter's, marching up to the store. Wary of being accused of kidnapping or something, he stepped aside and let her barge past him, shouting. "I've been looking everywhere for you! What do you think you're doing?!"
Cole stirred. The first thing he felt was a jolt of pain from his left shoulder...it felt sore and stiff. His head was on something soft, like a pillow. He was warm and dry, a blanket covered him.
He blinked sleepily. It was evening wherever he was, he was surrounded by a thick grove of wet trees. The sky, once heavy with thundering clouds, was now clear, and he could see hundreds of stars twinkling up above. A small fire was burning five feet away, keeping his feet warm and crackling every few seconds.
He tried to sit up and winced. He looked down to see a bandage wrapped around his shoulder and a sling slung across his bare torso.
A night owl hooted somewhere in the distance. Something made him wake up...a sound. What was it?
Then he heard it.
"...The stars will be silent today."
He blinked in confusion. Why was he hearing somebody singing? This was weird...maybe he hit his head on a rock. Whoever was singing sounded female, and was standing in the shadows a few feet away from the campfire.
This was getting creepy.The voice was soft and haunting, just a little over a whisper.
"...But into this stillness,
I'll bring you a song,
And I will your company keep,
'Till your tired eyes and my lullabies
Have carried you softly to sleep."
The voice paused. A dark silhouette stepped into the dancing firelight. It was definitely a woman, though how old she was he could not tell, for the shadows flickering around her face was confusing. She looked to be wearing midnight-blue robes and a forest-green dress underneath, with a leather belt adorned with pouches. But what really struck Cole as strange was the pointed hat she wore; it looked like the type a traditional witch would wear. She sang again:
"Once did a warrior with eyes like the sun,
Look out on her kingdom and sigh,
She smiled and she said--WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT, BOY?!"
Cole jumped. The woman was now glaring daggers at him. "How long have you been listening?!" She demanded.
"Uh--" He stammered. "Not long. I--I just woke up."
The woman took a threatening step forward, where the dancing light of the fire shone on her face. Cole realized that while singing she may have sounded just a little older than himself, her aged, slightly wrinkled face told him she was in her late thirties, perhaps forty.
She gazed at him with intense almond-brown eyes, then snorted crossly. "Hmph." Without a word she turned away from him and tossed some branches into the fire. Sparks shot out with a small whoosh and flew up into the sky like little fire fairies. She then seated herself on a stump a few feet away from him and stared into the flames.
Cole sat there for a few seconds, feeling quite awkward. When the woman didn't show any sign of speaking, he cautiously cleared his throat. "Uh...How did I get here?"
She swung her head around and stared at him.
He shifted. "I mean...The last thing I remember was falling off a cliff during a storm...Did I black out or something, or..?"
She scowled. "Blast this generation. Can't even tell when someone's saved their worthless skin."
Cole blinked. "So....you saved me?"
"Risked my neck to save your worthless life, I did!" She made a peculiar hissing noise through her teeth. "Hss...Nearly smashed myself dragging your limp, broken body up that cliff! Hmph. Would have been better if I left you to the wolves." She glared into the fire.
Cole was bemused by the stranger's attitude. "What happened to my shoulder?"
Her eyes didn't leave the cackling flames. "You dislocated it. I put it back in place though, you won't be able to use it for several days. You also smashed your head on a rock, though I was able to close the wound in time. Other than that, and a few scrapes and bruises, you were very fortunate to survive that fall."
"Who are you?" He asked.
She hesitated, and glanced at him. Her eyes narrowed.
"Matilda Ravencroft."
Yep, that's Matilda! (Although people aren't supposed to get wrinkles until they're fifty. )
Is Ravencroft a name from Harry Potter, perchance? For some reason I recognize it from something else (and did last time I read this story).
An night bird cried out somewhere in the distance. The snapping flames cracked and popped, warming Cole's bare chest from the chill of the night.
"What were you doing up here?" He asked. "Isn't it kind of weird for somebody to be wandering around a mountain during a storm by themselves?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing, not to mention your name." She retorted.
"Oh, yeah..." Feeling awkward, he said. "..My name is Cole."
" 'Cole'." She repeated. "Cole...short for 'Coleman', isn't it?"
"It's just...'Cole'. Just Cole." He muttered. He didn't like the name 'Coleman'.
"Well, '"Just Cole", if I were you, I'd try to get some sleep. It's the middle of the night, and unlike you, I haven't been sleeping for nearly twenty four hours." She said.
Cole shifted uneasily. How was he supposed to sleep with a sore arm, a throbbing head, and with a creepy lady who looks like a witch staring at him?
When Matilda saw his hesitation, she snorted impatiently. "Relax kid, if I wanted to get rid of you I would have done it hours ago, or just I could have just left you lying nearly smashed on that cliff."
He bit his lip, but consented to pulling the blanket back over his body and lying down. He forced himself to close his eyes and slow his breathing. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Matilda, careful to shut it if she glanced in his direction.
She ignored him for the most part, and stared distantly into the burning flames, her gaze unreadable. Her long, brown, scraggly hair with streaks of gray spilled from underneath her worn, pointed hat and around her midnight-blue cloak. The hiss of the flames and the rustle of the trees eventually lulled Cole to a peaceful sleep.
So, does that mean his full name is Coleman?
(And people aren't supposed to get streaks of gray until their sixties. )
"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, before I pour a bucket of cold water over your head!"
Cole stirred. Blinking blearily, he sat up and shivered. He realized it was only the break of dawn; the sun wasn't out yet! The sky was a navy blue mixed with gray, the tall pine trees stood around the camp, silent and still. The fire was somehow still blazing, and a tea kettle held up by metal rods hung over the flickering flames.
"Five more minuets..." He murmured, and slumped back onto his mat.
A stick whacked him over the head. "Ow!" He cried.
"All right, all right, I'm up! Sheesh..." He threw back the blanket and grimaced when his shoulder painfully protested. The cold morning air hit his body and clung to it, sinking into his bones.
"About time. Here's your shirt and jacket. Had to take them off to heal your shoulder." She handed him his clothes and turned to the fire. A large, flat boulder sat nearby, serving as a sort of table. Some food was there, steaming hot.
Cole's mouth suddenly watered. Was that the smell of...? Surely not...
She handed him a plate, where a slice of some light-colored pastry, covered in something that looked suspiciously like frosting.
His jaw dropped. "Is this...cake?"
She shrugged casually. "Of some sort. A bit sugary, but a good meal to have before a long journey."
He glanced at her suspiciously.
She rolled her eyes. "For crying out loud, it's food. It may not be well-known in Ninjago, but it won't smash you. Served it to a couple of kids your age a while back, and they loved it." She turned to the boulder and started picking up cooking items.
Cole hesitated, then took a bite. He then wolfed it down, shocked at how delicious it was. After several bites he reached for a tea kettle sitting nearby, needing something to wash it down.
"Ah-ah-ah!" Matilda snatched it away. "Trust me, you don't want that. That's Traveler's Tea. Here." She poured him a cup from the kettle sitting over the fire.
How would Matilda have been able to make cake . . . but then, she is a witch of sorts.
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I'm genuinely confused. 