The big cat had been chasing Pren for heart-rending minutes when she managed to skid into a cave she’d never seen before. She shimmied through a hole that was barely big enough for her and scooted up into a little ledge area. The cat might wait for hours for her, so she made herself comfortably before she pulled out the flint and steel and lit her torch.
The walls of the cave glittered and shone the way that sometimes a small piece of rock would. The whole area was smooth, rounded, like she had scooted up from the cave into something even less natural than her tree-house.
On the far side of the room was a lever. Pren looked at the lever. At least, it was a stick poking out of the wall at an angle. Her mother had shown her how to use things like that to set traps for animals, when she had been small. When her mother had been around. It might dump her into a net or drop something on her, although both the floor and ceiling looked sturdy enough in the torchlight. It might drop something on the cat.
The cat was trying to get up the hole she had slipped through. One clawed paw batted upwards, bigger than Pren’s foot.
She scooted backwards and pulled the lever. Even a trap was better than being eaten by a cat.
She fell backwards as the wall opened up, into a brightly and smooth room full of strangers and shining lights.
