Catfantastic II

by Andre Norton

  She had to stop him! Desperately, the woman groped for some weapon that could put the madman out of the battle, but only Bastet’s bronze image came to hand.

  She caught up the heavy little statue, suddenly deadly calm. She would have once chance, only one. Her first blow had to fall true, and it must strike with such force that it would bring and keep the big man down. It was pointless to question her ability or the ability of her weapon to accomplish that. She was without any other choice.

  In that moment, Francie was filled with knowledge and the strength and control of body to translate it into action. Setting the figurine aside, she flowed to her feet.

  The man’s functioning eye dilated. He shook his head to clear the blood half blinding it, but the apparition before him still did not resolve itself back into his cowering intended victim. Tall, female, clad in platinum fur, it took a single step toward him.

  A cat’s whisper-soft paws concealed a defense of no small import, witness the work Francie’s two defenders had already wrought on the intruder. Her own claws were something more, every bit as sharp as the animals’ but strong and deadly in proportion to her new size. Her arm slashed out, and two scarlet geysers struck the ceiling, pumping wildly from the severed arteries of what had been his throat.

  Francie sunk to her knees as the eldritch strength left her again as abruptly as it had come. Two little bodies, both trembling violently, came to her and pressed against her, seeking comfort. Fighting the shaking of her own limbs, she closed them tightly in her arms, whispering that everything was fine now, trying to ascertain all the while that they were indeed both whole.

  Do not fear for our charges, Sister. They are unscathed.

  The human’s head turned to the statue. The shock and horror of those few, ghastly minutes just gone was beginning to grip her, numbing her so that she did not start at the sound of the familiar mental voice.

  I must crave pardon, Francine, for possessing you as I did without first seeking your leave, but it was essential that I act at once. Your weapon was inadequate. Had I not seized the offensive, you might have felled him in the end, for your determination would have bought you more than one blow, but you yourself would have been gravely injured, probably to the death, and maybe these valiant ones with you.

  “I-am grateful for your help.” Francie made herself look at the corpse, at the gaping hole that remained of the throat, and she gripped herself with every shred of will she had left. “What-what about him? Is he being…”

  The judging of human souls is not mine, yet I can state that his mind was hopelessly awry. He had no knowledge of wrong, no ability to comprehend the pain of others.

  “I hope his judgment will be mild, then,” she replied with a genuine charity she had not known she could muster, “milder and more just than I may receive.”

  She could feel the invisible entity frown. What do you say, Sister?

  “You-you’ve saved me, Lady Bastet, and I’m truly grateful, but it may be only to face another kind of dying.”

  Francie shivered. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain all of this. The police’ll see that nothing in here could’ve made that kind of wound. Even if I claim I don’t remember a thing, I’ll be in trouble.” Her eyes closed. “You must know something of humans, Lady. All it needs is one lawyer, one man or woman looking for notoriety, and I could be in jail or be subjected to an ordeal that’ll strip me of everything-job, home, name.” There were others to think about beside herself. “Turtle’ll be all right. She’ll be going back to her new place, but there could be long stretches when I won’t be able to take care of Gift. He might be caged somewhere or actually suffer physical as well as emotional neglect.” The woman’s face, already nearly colorless, turned as white as if she lay dead beside the one the goddess had killed through her. “Lady Bastet, take him! You have to take Gift! The death weapon may be impossible to identify, but not the rest. They might put him down, slaughter him, because he attacked a human, even though it was to defend me. -Please. I know this may not follow the laws or customs ruling you and your charges, but none of what happened here’s normal, either. Gift overcame all his terror of strangers to do this for me. You can’t let him suffer!”

  She took hold of herself before hysteria shattered her completely. “I’m human, and this was a human matter initially. I can work my way through whatever’s to come of it, but, please, please, don’t let my brave little friend be punished for his love of me!”

  You truly believe that will happen, Sister, to you or to him?

  Francie’s head lowered. “It could happen. It…” She groped for words. “Our society seems more comfortable with victims, statistics, than with successful survivors. It too often punishes them as a result.”

  Can you imagine that I am unaware of the ways of those among whom my charges must live or that I would intervene only to leave you and yours in a state worse in its way than that from which I saved you? 1 questioned you merely to see if you yourself were aware of your continued peril. Close your eyes, Francine, for you have witnessed too much that is strange already this day.

  The human obeyed. There was no sound for what seemed like many minutes, but she did not look again until Bastet told her to do so. The body, the weapon, the blood, all sign of the intrusion and battle, were gone from the bedroom, as she had no doubt they were gone from the living room and the entry window as well. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  It was a service I was pleased to render, my Sister. Know, too, that I do not call you that in courtesy but in fact, and few there are in all your species’ history who have borne that title. Your behavior this night has gained it for you, coupled with your deep and true partnership with my little ones.

  “I didn’t do anything!” Francie exclaimed. “You were the one who…”

  I do not grant kinship for bringing death! the other snapped. You rightly feared what would become of you as a result, and you knew I was possessed of many powers-I surely had given ample proof of that your plea was only for Bast’s Gift. That, Francine of the Partners, is the measure of your greatness. “He’s done so much for me,” she murmured, stroking the black.

  Are you still willing to do my work?

  “I am, of course,” she replied, surprised that the question should be posed.

  Then it is time for you to bring a kitten into your life. One has just returned to me who had been so used in her first incarnation that she has lost the power to play or seek. That a kitten should be so crippled is an obscenity before nature and Those who rule her.

  “You believe I can help her, too?”

  I do, with the assistance of Bast’s Gift and Turtle.

  “Turtle?”

  She refuses to leave you again.

  Francie sighed to herself. Three cats, and she knew full well that this would not be the end of it. The need was simply too great. Every doctor of worth, and she, it seemed, was slated to be a healer of sorts, was doomed to be swamped with patients. She sighed again. She had never craved the unenviable title of ‘Cat Lady’…

  Bastet laughed. You are too much a lover of a normal life to allow yourself to become an eccentric, nor would I inflict that fate on you since it would be so unwelcome. The kitten will seem to be Turtle’s young one, as if you took both in together as a result of her supposed resemblance to your old companion. Any others whom I send to you will remain only the relatively brief span of time required for their needs to be met and will not be perceptible to those with senses less acute than yours.

  “Ghosts?”

  You would term them that. I would rather describe them as spirits finished with one incarnation and awaiting the next. “Is Turtle…”

  Turtle is a special case. She has completed the Ninefold Path. You are most fortunate in her. She will serve as your familiar and should be helpful to you in dealing both with your own kind and with others sharing this realm with you.

  Francie stroked and then cuddled the tortoiseshell in delight and welcome but immediate
ly turned to the cat snuggled in the crook of her other arm. “What about it, Gift? I’m not the only one living here. I can see that you accept Turtle, but what do you think of the rest of this proposed invasion of our peaceful quarters?”

  In answer, a pink tongue rasped across her chin, and the copper eyes slitted in pleasure as the black cat purred his complete assent.

  Shadows by Caralyn Inks

  Jariel Belldancer ranged ahead of Wizard Sanja and the guardsmen spread out behind him, looking for signs easily missed from horseback. For two days his small band had searched the hills north of Fort Duval for Scholar Tabler and his twelve-year-old apprentice Marian.

  Pacer, he subvocalized, have you found anything?

  I might have.

  Past experience with the camilacat had taught him to trust her hunches. Jariel increased his pace, then half stumbled over a grassy hillock.

  “Blast it all to sea!” Behind him he heard the other men laugh. Sanja rode up, the reins of Jariel’s horse in his fist. With a grin, he held them out, saying,

  “I think it’s time you rode for a while. Your feet are objecting to the work you’re putting them to.”

  Jariel laughed, took the reins, and mounted. “To look at the foothills of Bramare Duval all appears smooth grass. What a deception!”

  Sanja nodded, hitched his cape back over his shoulders. “By the One, how any could so pursue the study of bats as to get themselves lost is beyond me.”

  “Quiet!” Jariel held up his hand. “Pacer’s talking to me.”

  I’ve found them, Minddancer.

  Are they alive?

  Yes. But they are imprisoned by a magical force. You’ll find them behind the hill shaped like a crooked finger.

  Jariel shouted to the men behind, “They’re found.” He glanced at Sanja. “It’s a good thing you decided to come along. Pacer says they’re trapped by magic.”

  “Magic? Out here?” With a flick of his fingers Sanja indicated the land about them, the vast dip and roll of the foothills of Bramare Duval. Except for an occasional outcrop of stone and clusters of trees, the land appeared empty of human habitation.

  “As Pacer says, ‘the unexpected is always found in the least likely places.’ ” He laughed to himself when Pacer’s voice slid into his thoughts.

  It’s good to hear some of what I taught you has stuck in that selective memory of yours!

  The hill shaped like a crooked finger loomed ahead. They slowed their pace, stopped on seeing Pacer. She sat before a ragged opening in the earthen mound. In the cave mouth Tabler and Marian could be seen supporting one another. Apprentice Marian’s arm was in a sling. As they all dismounted, Tabler shouted, “Don’t come any further!”

  Belldancer stopped beside Pacer, lightly touching the cat’s head. He could see no barrier preventing their escape, but did not doubt Tabler’s warning.

  “What happened here, Tabler?”

  “We followed the bats to this cave. Once inside we couldn’t get out.”

  Marian interrupted. “Please, have you any food or water?”

  Jariel tossed them a water bag and a packet of dried fruit. As they helped one another sit down, Jariel himself matched the wizard’s slow approach to the cave mouth. Sanja’s hands were stretched forth, eyes closed in concentration. Jariel clasped the seer’s elbow to guide him around a large rock. They were both within inches of Marian and Tabler when there came an explosion of light. Akin to lightning, it flashed across the opening.

  Dazed, Jariel staggered and rubbed his eyes to rid them of the afterimage seared on his inner eyelids. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he hurried to Sanja. The force had thrown the wizard a good ten feet from the cave. As Jariel knelt down to raise his friend, Pacer said, He’s fine, Minddancer. Even so, relief coursed through him when the man moaned. Jariel helped him sit up.

  “The power sealing that cave is old,” Sanja said, blinking his eyes. “So old it makes my back teeth ache.

  Here,” he grabbed Jariel’s arm. “Help me up.” Together they walked back to the cave.

  “If it’s as old as you say, how can it still retain such force?” asked Jariel.

  “If I’m not mistaken, and I doubt that I am, this is the work of the Wizardess Baltaz.”

  “Baltaz! How can that be possible? She’s been dead two hundred years.”

  “Even so. She was the most powerful mage of her time. Her delight was creating intricate traps and puzzles with spells made to last beyond her lifetime.” Sanja turned from him, a look of utmost concentration on his face, and slowly began to pace back and forth before the cave mouth. Jariel left him to join Pacer. She rested, out of the hot sunlight, in the shade of a tree.

  What do you make of all this?

  She yawned, pink tongue curling up to shield her front teeth. I had removed the bells the Healers placed in your body would you have learned how to dance without making a single bell chime?

  No.

  Then the answers to the questions you pose you must seek yourself.

  With an inner sigh he hoped Pacer did not hear, Jariel examined the area around the hill. Clumps of tough grass thrust up from among the stone riddled ground, still green though it was mid-autumn. He knelt down, fingering the earth. As he wiped the damp soil from his fingers onto the grass, Jariel sniffed the air. Close by, there was a source of water.

  On the eastern edge of the hill he discovered a small disturbance in the ground. Circling it, Jariel noted the dried dung, only partially covered in dirt, the freshest about three days old. There was also a tuft of reddish fur snagged on a rock. Near the dung he saw a paw print. Fox. Jariel turned back to Pacer.

  A fox has used this cave as a dwelling place. It has not returned because the cave is now occupied by humans. Tabler and Marian could enter but not leave. When the mage tried to walk through, it repulsed him.

  And, she prompted.

  If this wizardess was as powerful as history tells us, she could have set wards to allow only animals the freedom to come and go.

  Why?

  Jariel paused to review. I think to hide her real purpose it was necessary that the cave appear normal. That is why ordinary humans cannot leave. They would carry the tale of a strange cave and someone Gifted would eventually investigate.

  Very good. But, my heart spirit tells me we only scratch the surface here. Come, let’s talk with Tabler.

  A chill slipped down Jariel’s spine as Pacer mentioned her heart spirit. Over the years she had chosen to become his teacher and friend, he had developed a healthy respect for the times when her inner voice spoke. It usually called them to action, dangerous action.

  Sanja met them, shaking his head and saying, “I can’t find a weak point anywhere. I even tried to walk through without calling on my powers. It repulsed me, though not as violently. It’s as if the barrier can tell I have the gift.”

  Jariel clasped the wizard’s shoulder, turning him. “Let’s see what Tabler can tell us.”

  The scholar looked exhausted. He held a wet cloth above Marian’s hand so the moisture dropped gently on her injury. Her fingers were red, puffy, blistered. In several places, cracked skin oozed a bloody pus.

  Jariel asked, “How was Marian injured?”

  Tabler did not look up. “Foolish curiosity, Belldancer.”

  Jariel studied the bent head, the muscles across the scholar’s shoulders tight with fear. “Tabler, look at me.” In the old man’s eyes were fear, exhaustion, and guilt. He conveyed all the distress of his position as Belldancer spoke.

  “Is Duval in jeopardy?”

  “I do not know.”

  Jariel motioned to the ten guardsmen that accompanied him. “Come forward. You and the Wizard Sanja will bear witness to Tabler’s words.” When they were settled about him, Jariel said, “Speak with truth before these witnesses.”

  At Jariel’s nod, Tabler continued, grateful Belldancer wore no warrior’s knot in his hair. Had that been so, he and Marian would have to face the young man in a judgment danc
e for bringing either shame or peril upon Duval and its people. Peril they might bring, but only through foolish, not deliberate actions. “We followed the bats into the cave. We used the night lanterns Sanja made us…”

  Sanja eagerly interrupted. “Did they work?”

  “Very well. Once our eyes were adjusted, we could see just fine. The dim light didn’t bother the bats at all. In the course of studying them, we discovered something odd. This cave is quite large, larger than the hill containing it. In fact it seems to lead into a maze of caves and stone grottoes.” He shook his head. “Strange, very strange. I’d like to make a study of it.”

  Jariel commented dryly, “If we can’t get you out of there, you might just have the opportunity.”

  “Sorry, Belldancer.” Tabler shook out the cloth he used to wet Marian’s arm and laid it again gently over her injury. She moaned. “Does anyone have anything for pain?”

  One of the guard leaned forward. “I have some brandy.”

  “Thank you, Marcan,” Jariel said, taking the flask which he tossed to Tabler.

  The scholar supported Marian and tipped the flask. She gagged. “I know it’s awful, but it will help. There, that’s enough. Now, lie down beside me.” Tabler covered her with a cloak. “Try to sleep, brave one.”

  Jariel saw the fatigue on the old man’s face. He hated to push Tabler, but he had to have more information. “You were saying?”

  “My apprentice and I got turned around in the caves. As we were trying to find our way out, we saw a dim orange light. At first I thought it was moonlight shining in through the cave mouth. I became concerned, though, when the light brightened, stronger than any moon glow, the closer we approached.” Excitement tinged his voice. He looked at Sanja. “We found a large cave. The walls were smooth, covered by a strange orange substance that glowed. The place reeked with magic, the very air was tinged with the scent of spent lightning. But the true wonder was the woman. She stood on a plinth in the center of the stone room.”

  “A woman!” Sanja leaned forward. “Is she alive? Where is she?” Not waiting for an answer he turned to Jariel.