Flaming Expectations

Mason encouraged the stone to open a pocket and deposited his prize inside it, where it couldn't be smelled. Then he trotted to the end of his journey.

Flames brought the hot air to life and licked the edge of the pit, and Mason pressed his ears to his head and opened his mouth. The heat burned his teeth and tongue but he didn't step back. He was here to ask his enemy for a favor. He couldn't appear weak.

He gazed into the wavering heat for a hint of the presence that every hair on his body knew was here. He yowled.

The flames leapt and the heat seemed to gather itself. A pressure flattened the orange tongues against the outer rim until they appeared as only an afterthought, and heat filled Mason's mouth. A black ember rose from the depths, unfolding its coil.

"Hello, bruzzah." The serpent grinned and flicked its tongue toward him. "Are you here for a job interview? I need my back scrubbed. Flaking mica is so itchy."

Mason's tail twitched in irritation. Sussah thought he was so funny. He wanted to catch that tongue and shred it through his claws. The whole "brother" thing made him want to howl to the Winds at its unfairness. Whoever heard of a cat paired to a serpent, of all animals?

"If you touch me with that thing, I'll topple all your rocks on top of you," he growled.

"Still the self-righteous, boring animal you were always were, I see," Sussah hissed, bathing him in steam.

Mason gagged on the intensity of the sulfur. He thought he'd accustomed himself to that part of the ordeal on the long pathway downward. Thankfully, he'd had something in his mouth to sweeten the flavor.

"So? Why did you come here, if not to aid me in my eternal predicament?"

Mason hesitated. He wasn't sure his mate was in her right mind, and uncertainty and disbelief (not to mention instinct) had made him argue against her for most of the summer season. But she'd held out, and in the end, he bowed to her wishes. Anything for the cat he loved.

"Murra wants a fire serpent to watch her kits. The ice is coming and she's worried they'll freeze."

A crunching noise filled the cavern and Mason shrank until he realized the serpent was laughing.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to entrust one of my kin with your clan for the winter? Ask a serpent to live at the heart of a nest where serpents aren't allowed to slither, at the time of year when my kind are the weakest?"

Mason crouched, acknowledging the hilarity of the idea. "She said it would be a show of our truce. She told me I should learn to get along with my bond." He flicked his tail, irritated and amazed that they were having this conversation.

Sussah's laugh grew. "And what promise would I have in exchange for this truce? Will she send one of her own precious kits here?"

Mason wanted to bite him in outrage at the idea. Instead, he shifted his feet. His pads were sweating and made the ground feel slick. "You know they can't endure this kind of heat. But she promises moles next summer."

"Moles?" Sussah's tongue flicked again, and Mason resisted the urge to swipe it.

He shrugged. "I told her I'd ask. I didn't think you'd take me up on it." He turned his back on the serpent, telling his fur firmly to stay sleek.

"Wait. Tell me about moles," Sussah hissed.

Mason turned back around, reluctant. "I will accompany my kits down here with one mole apiece each quarter, when they are grown enough to make the trip. Until then, I will bring one myself each quarter."

"Moles...." Sussah's neck rolled in a circle of pleasure and the flames danced. "I haven't tasted mole in over a hundred years."

"They are tasty," he licked his lips.

Sussah bent his body close, and Mason flattened his ears and squinted. "How do I know you will keep your end of the bargain?"

"I have a mole for you now, up above. And," he hesitated and closed his eyes entirely, unsure of how he could ever mutter the words that he knew would close his end of the deal.

For Murra and the kits.

"I'll scratch your back for you."

A cloud of sulfur enveloped him. "Bruzzah, I'm in."