The creature froze, all twelve eyes focusing on me at once. It was an unsettling experience, like being X-rayed by a kaleidoscope.
"Do you know what that means?" I pressed. "Do you have a home somewhere else?"
The manticore made a mournful sound, its form seeming to deflate slightly. It slithered to a collection of cat collars and nudged one toward me, a small, pink one with a heart-shaped tag that read "Horrace."
"Horrace?" I read aloud. "Is that your name?"
The creature bobbed its head.
"Wait," Milo joined me in crouching near the collection. "I think I understand. These aren't trophies, they're its collection. It's been taking the collars, not eating the cats."
"So you're not a cat-eater?" I looked at Horrace.
Horrace made an offended noise, several tentacles crossing in what looked remarkably like a huff.
"Sorry," I apologized and shrugged. "There were rumors."
Milo was examining the collars more closely. "These are all from the same neighborhood, I think. Maybe Horrace came through a dimensional rift and got stuck here? And it's been collecting these as, what? Memories? Connections?"
"Or trying to find its way home," the prophecy was suddenly making more sense. "The collars have addresses. It's been looking for its own address."
Horrace's eyes blinked in rapid succession, and it made an excited trill.
"I think we're right," Milo grinned. "The prophecy wants us to help Horrace get home!"
"But where is home?" I wondered aloud. "Another dimension? How are we supposed to open a portal to its home…"
I stopped mid-sentence as Horrace slithered closer to me, its tentacles reaching for my arm where the prophetic markingsglowed. The moment it touched me, the blue symbols flared brightly, and images flooded my mind.
Emma.
I gasped, staggering backward as the visions hit me with such intensity that my knees nearly buckled. Horrace's tentacle remained connected to my arm, the contact creating a link between us that felt almost electric but simultaneously warm, intimate. The prophetic markings on my skin pulsed in rhythm with what I could only assume was Horrace's heartbeat or whatever cosmic horror equivalent they possessed.
"Winter? Are you okay?" Milo's voice sounded distant, muffled under the rush of foreign memories flooding my mind.
I saw a little girl discovering a strange, shimmering tear in reality behind her bedroom closet. Her delight as she reached through it and something reached back. Her parents' shock when she dragged Horrace into their living room, declaring she'd found a "friend from the sparkly place." Their eventual acceptance as they realized the inter-dimensional being was gentle, intelligent, and completely devoted to their daughter.
"I can see it," I was overwhelmed by the emotional weight of Horrace's memories. "I can see his home."
The sense of belonging Horrace had felt with Emma and her family was so powerful it brought tears to my eyes. The manticore had known love, acceptance, a place where his strangeness was celebrated rather than feared. Then came the storm, the fear, the confusion. A door left open, a dimensional rift temporarily strengthened by unusual atmospheric conditions, and Horrace was torn away from everything he knew.
Lost.
Alone.
Afraid.
For what felt like decades in human time, the creature had wandered, searching for familiar scents, sounds, anything that might lead back to Emma. The cat collars were his desperate attempt to find an address, a way home. Each one collected with hope, each one a disappointment.
"Oh, Horrace," I knelt down as the visions subsided, my heart aching for this bizarre yet utterly vulnerable being. "You've been looking for your family all this time."
Horrace made a soft trilling sound, his tentacles drooping in what was unmistakably sadness. Several of his eyes blinked rapidly, and I realized with a start that he was crying, iridescent tears that seemed to contain galaxies.
Almost instinctively, I reached out and stroked what I thought might be his back. The fur (if you could call it that) felt like silk and static electricity combined, sending pleasant tingles up my arm. "We're going to get you home. I promise."
He leaned into my touch, making a sound that reminded me of a purr but with musical undertones, like someone had merged a cat with a church organ. Three of his eyes closed contentedly while the others kept vigilant watch around us.
"Is he showing you something?" Milo was quiet, fascinated but keeping a respectful distance.
