Long ago and far away there was a city, and inside the walls there was a garden. In the garden the only sound was the splashing of fountains and the singing of birds. Across the lawns, nobles, lovers and poets strolled, or they sat on the benches, dreaming of other days and other times.

Long ago the butterflies flew softly from flower to flower while beneath the trees the temple cats moved, silent and dark as shadows. In the sky above the sun shone all day, and the moon serenely ruled the night.

The city was in ruins and the garden long overgrown when a little girl came through a gap in the walls at the end of a long afternoon. At first she did not even see it as a garden, it seemed like an extension of the jungle because it was so overgrown. The gentle lawns were choked with weeds, bushes, vines, and even trees, which had grown up in the years since the city fell to ruins. The roots of the trees had split the paving stones and the fountains had been silent and empty for a long time.

The girl was a woodsman's daughter, all day she had been with her father, deep in the forest. Now as the night fell she realised that she was lost. Vainly she called for her father and tried to retrace her steps, slowly at first, then in growing panic. Unknowing, she moved all the while deeper and deeper into the forest which seemed as old and deep as time itself. Finally, numb with fatigue, she stumbled through a gap in the stones and stood blinking in the overgrown garden.

In the last of the sunlight the stones of the city took on a warm honey colored glow. At first it was difficult to make out that it was a city. The stones were so old and so buried under the thriving plant life that she might have been looking at natural outcroppings of rock, haphazard piles of stone covered over with trees and vines and bushes, their probing roots growing into every crevice. Gradually, however, the stones took on lines and forms, roofs and walls and columns, until what had seemed natural and organic was now revealed as the walls of temples and palaces.

Nearer at hand were the scattered remains of the garden, walkways and paving stone, a stone bench and a fountain, half concealed by twisting vines. The head of a stone dragon poked serenely forth from a mass of foliage, grey eyes unseeing, mouth no longer gushing water.

She sat on the bench, exhausted from her blind flight through the forest. Whimpering faintly she lay down. Soon her eyes closed and she was asleep.

*

The girl came awake suddenly, totally alert, startled by something - a sound, a motion, a presence - something. She knew that time had passed - one hour, two, maybe more - even as she opened her eyes to the night which had engulfed the ruined garden.

The darkness was complete. It was almost entirely silent, only distant night sounds of the forest competed with the thunder of her heartbeat. She was afraid to breathe. She knew she was not alone in the garden.

"Mrrrow?"

The cat was a nimble little creature with a dark, angular face and the strange little kink in his tail where it's said that a princess once put her rings, long, long ago. His eyes were dark and mysterious, but his body was warm and comforting against the strangeness of the night.

The little girl held the cat close, feeling ashamed of being afraid. It was only a temple cat.

"Mrrrow."

*

It seemed much later when she woke again, and the cat was gone. She almost cried out, but she froze, mouth open, eyes wide.

The buildings of the ruined city were black shapes against the night, but close at hand from a gap in the stone a light streamed forth, a hard yellow light which made the night seem even darker.

She rose from the bench and crept forward towards the light. When she reached the doorway she halted, peering inside. The room was lavish and splendid in a way she had never imagined. Silks draped the walls, elegant furniture of dark and polished wood filled the room. Gold and silver shone in the light of the candles.

Gathering her courage, she tiptoed inside to see more of the treasures. Halfway across the room she saw the man watching her. He was an old man, his hair and beard silver grey. He had a long, stern face and he wore strange old clothes - robes of embroidered silk with ornaments of gold and jade. She stared at him, sure that he must be some kind of a king.

"Little one," the king said softly. "Who are you? Why have you come? Is it a sign?" His voice was kind, but very sad. He had kind eyes too, dark and watchful.

"Ah... Sir?" She made a hesitant little bow, not knowing if she should call him 'Your Majesty'. "I'm lost, can you please help me?"

The man smiled sadly. "Can I help you? I was going to ask you the same. Have you some sign from the heavens for me? Things go very badly and the people need a sign."

The little girl shrank back, confused and intimidated by what he asked and the seriousness of his tone. What did he want? Why did he ask her? "W-what do you mean?" she whispered.

Slowly, awkwardly, the old man dropped to his knees. "Spirit child, Blessed Ancestor, Please tell me what I must do. How can the Heavens be propitiated?"

"I'm lost." she said. "I don't know. I'm not a spirit. I don't have any message for you."

"But you are from long ago, child, from the ancestors, you must be. Even as I look at you I can see you are not real. I can see right through you! You must have been given a message. Tell it to me!"

"I'm not a spirit!" she said, backing away. "I'm not! You're the ghost, leave me alone!"

Suddenly the temple cat emerged from the shadows and ran to stand in front of her. He turned to face the ancient king and hissed. The scene began to fade.

"Wait!" the king called out to her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend. Don't go, you must help me!"

Then she woke, lying on the stone bench in the overgrown garden. The moon had risen and cast a silver light over everything. The temple cat glowed darkly silver. He purred and licked her fingers with his rough tongue. She curled herself around his small, warm body again, nightmares forgotten. She closed her eyes and soon drifted off to sleep again.

*

It took her a long time to wake, as he shook her gently and called her name again and again. Finally she opened her eyes and stared up at him tiredly.

"Father?"

He gathered her up into his arms, and took the lantern in his other hand. "Why did you come here? This is a bad place. There are evil spirits here. I've searched half the night. You should not have run off like that. Your mother will be angry."

She was half asleep again in her arms, but remembering something she forced her eyes open as he carried her away from the bench where she had rested. "The cat," she whispered. "The temple cat. Where is he?"

"What?" Her father stopped and looked down at her.

"A cat came to me. He was warm, he purred. A temple cat."

"Here?" He shook his head. "You must have been dreaming. We have to get home."

"There was a cat!" she insisted. "There was!"

The woodsman shook his head and looked back at the overgrown garden and the ruins it sheltered. They had reached the gap in the shattered walls, and all that could be seen in the moonlight was the dense, overgrown trees and the occasional broken block of stone. It was a wilderness, an evil place, a place of ghosts where no-one had lived for a long, long time. The temples were broken, empty. There were no priests here, and no cats.

"No, you must have dreamed." He said firmly, making a sign to guard against evil.

"There was a cat." she murmured, but already she was drifting back to sleep in his arms.

He turned and strode into the dark forest with the little girl in his arms.

The moon shone serenely over the dark garden, the peaceful night sounds were soft and gentle over it's overgrown lawns and tumbled fountains. The wind blew and the branches swayed, and in the darkness beneath the trees shadows moved, dark and silent as temple cats, but... that was long ago and far away.