Ella and the Panther's Quest

by Lisa Anne Nisula

  “Yes,” whispered Panther.

  I trusted Panther knew I’d included Footstool in that question. He was a large cat, with cat eyes, and could probably see everything perfectly well in the dim light. I pushed the door to the cell stairs closed. I heard a click as it locked into place.

  The keys were still in my hand. I put them down on the floor, behind the jumble of rakes near the hidden door. I could feel Panther watching me, but did not explain that I did not want the house to be without their keys, or to find them too quickly. Then I blew out my candle, licked my fingers and pinched the wick to be sure there were no sparks, and put it back in my pocket.

  I went to the outside door and pushed it open. Panther crowded beside me, looking out over the moonlit field. I felt Panther tense, ready to run.

  “Do you know the way from here?” I whispered. “Once we’re outside, I mean.”

  “Yes, once I see the trees.” He slipped out. I felt Footstool brush against my legs as he followed. I paused long enough to pull the door closed and lock the padlock. Panther waited for me, still not questioning my actions. When I was ready, he took off for the trees, Footstool and I following. No one said anything until we were hidden in the shadows on the edge of the forest, Panther’s dark fur hiding him, Footstool and me hidden by the cloak.

  “I can find the castle from here,” Panther whispered. “You should both go back before they miss you.”

  I’d known he would say something like that, so I was prepared to resist. “I’m coming with you.”

  “That is not necessary. I can go alone from here.”

  “But you don’t have to, since I’m coming with you.”

  I could see Panther preparing to argue; his mouth opened a few times, but nothing came out until, “Then we’d best go quickly.”

  I nodded, too shocked to say anything. I’d expected many responses, had come up with many arguments against them, but agreement was not something I had anticipated.

  Panther took my silence for acceptance and started for the denser, darker trees, with me beside him.

  As the trees blocked more light, Panther slowed so he could match my hesitating pace. “Keep a hand on my back; I can see well enough.”

  I did not question — after all I had thought the very same thing — but rested one hand between his shoulders and let him guide me deep into the forest. With my free hand, I tried to keep my bag on my shoulder and clutch my cloak around me at the same time, but it didn’t work well. My bag slid to my elbow and the cloak billowed around me, a magnet for every tree branch and prickly bush, and making Footstool dance out of the way of its sweep as he trotted along between us.

  *

  Panther did seem to know his way through the forest. We traveled swiftly for what seemed like an age but I suspected was really no more than half an hour, moving too quickly to speak to each other. As we walked, the sun rose and continued to shine weakly through the leaves, but it was still cold among the trees. Eventually Panther did slow down, but it seemed as if he were looking for something, so I didn’t say anything.

  Panther stopped suddenly. “Wait here.”

  I stood by a rock. I was used to him disappearing.

  Instead of melting into the trees, Panther bounded up an oak. I smiled. “So that’s how he’s been navigating.”

  Footstool shook a bit, like he was laughing too.

  Panther leapt down a few minutes later. “We’re going the right way, and I don’t see anyone following us. I think we’re all right. Do you want to stop to eat?”

  I shook my head. “Would it be safe to take off my cloak?”

  “It should be. I didn’t see anyone around.”

  I took off the cloak and folded it into my bag. Panther waited patiently until I had finished before slinking into the forest at a more comfortable pace. Without the cloak catching on everything, I had a much easier time keeping up, even if I was chilly. But I was sure it would get warmer after the sun had been up for a while.

  Once we had settled into a comfortable pace, Panther started talking. “I heard from Clive that you asked after me.”

  I hadn’t expected conversation, so I answered without thinking, “They never mentioned you.”

  “I’m not surprised. But I did ask. And you were comfortable.”

  “I was.”

  Panther said nothing more. I concentrated on getting over a tree root. He had been friendly since we left the house. I wondered if I should risk testing my theory.

  “You never told me you were a prince.”

  He stopped short, but recovered quickly and went on before I could see his face or gauge his reaction. “Would it have mattered?”

  “No, but it’s nice to have a name for you.”

  He hrumped. “The footstool is named Feste.”

  I turned to Feste, surprised at how easy it was to think of him by his proper name. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Feste made a small bow. I tried to curtsy as I walked. I opened my mouth to say something else, then realized I still didn’t know what to call Panther. The staff had said “Master”, but that didn’t feel right coming from my mouth. As ridiculous as it felt, I’d have to ask. “Your highness, how should I address you?” It sounded painfully formal, and I had the feeling it would destroy whatever friendliness there was, but I also knew I’d feel like even more of an idiot asking that question in a day or two.

  “My name is Nathaniel. I thought you figured that out.” It was almost a growl. I started berating myself; I’d known I shouldn’t have asked that. Then I heard Nathaniel mumble, “I’m not a prince anymore, just a common beast,” and I knew he wasn’t angry with me.

  I tried to offer him an olive branch. “I’m pleased to meet you, then, Nathaniel.”

  “Charmed, I’m sure,” he grumbled, but he didn’t sound angry anymore.

  Nathaniel stayed quiet for a few steps. I left him alone and concentrated on picking my way through a bushy area.

  “Did they tell you their plans for me?”

  I looked up, startled by how quickly he was back to being friendly. But I hesitated before answering, remembering the stories about Nathaniel that Clara had told me. He cared so much about them; if he knew… With half my mind on not being gouged by branches, I wasn’t able to lie to my normal standard. “Well… they said… um…”

  Nathaniel grinned back at me. “Cut me open and look for the royal ring?”

  I stared at him.

  “I can tell from your expression I’m right.” He seemed very calm about near vivisection.

  “How did you know?”

  Nathaniel raised his shoulder, almost a shrug. “They’re my people. I know them. I suppose I should be flattered they’d take on a panther for my sake.”

  I watched him pick his way through the forest, his head down, one paw batting absently at the grass, and I wanted to say something about him as a ruler, about what Clara had said, that his people were lucky to have him, but before I could form something to comfort him, he said,

  “They deserve someone who doesn’t drop a curse on them because he’s too foolish to prevent it and too proud to avoid it.”

  I wanted to point out that his people were pretty well off, trapped, yes, but in a comfortable house, but Nathaniel did not seem in the mood. I let him stew until we were out of the brush, then asked, “What really happened that night?”

  Nathaniel took a deep breath and let it out.

  I felt like I was doing nothing but hurting him today. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  “No, you’re right to ask. But I don’t know the whole story.”

  Chapter 20

  Nathaniel stared at the trees as he walked. I fell back a step, so Nathaniel would not have to worry about me watching his expression as he began his story.

  “They were right about the first part. When Sagessa came, I was fighting Crawa and losing. Did they tell you his name was Crawa?”

  “Yes.”

  Nathaniel nodded. “I su
ppose you were glad to have something to call him too. It means raven, if you’re interested.”

  The image of a helm shaped like a raven flashed through my mind, as it had the first time I’d heard the name’s meaning, but I kept quiet. I didn’t want him to stop talking.

  “You met him, the honorless knave, but I suppose you figured that out too.” He turned to look at me, and I knew there was no point in pretending I hadn’t.

  “The knight?”

  He nodded. “I should have seen the clues. The helm. Whatever made you suspicious. But he looked nothing like himself, and his voice, all but that last cackle.” Nathaniel swatted at a rock. “I am a fool.”

  I almost protested, tried to tell him nothing more could have been expected of him, but I was coming to know his moods. If I said anything, he would deny it and lose the thread of the story. Instead, I sped up until I was able to fall into step beside him and rested my hand on his back.

  Nathaniel was quiet for a few steps. Then he slipped out from under my hand and went on as if nothing had happened. “I was losing. I couldn’t seem to land a blow, only defend myself against his attacks. And then Sagessa’s arrival distracted me for a moment; just a second, but it was enough. Crawa gained an advantage. As Sagessa came to my aide, Crawa must have felt he needed to get me out of the way, and he gave me this form. That is what my people saw. I was thrown clear of the fighting and captured by Crawa’s minions. They put me in irons and dragged me away. They must have knocked me out, because the next thing I remember was waking up in the cage where you found me.”

  I shivered. “Who won the battle?”

  “I don’t think either one did. The curse might mean the battle is unfinished. I never saw the end of the fight. I was captured; that suggests Crawa won, but I had the mirror, which points to Sagessa. My people are trapped, but in a fine home. I even have a riddle to break the curse, but no way to solve it.”

  I nodded, folding my arms against my chest and chafing my arms, trying to create a bit of heat. “So they may be at an impasse, a kind of truce.”

  Nathaniel stopped. “A truce?”

  I hesitated. I had just figured out why Sagessa would agree to a truce, and I didn’t think Nathaniel would like knowing it was because he was in Crawa’s power. “Maybe … maybe Sagessa negotiated a truce and took things which would help you to break the curse.”

  Nathaniel stared at a spot just outside of my view, not looking at anything I could see. “That would explain so much.” He started to walk again, without speaking. I knew he was deep in thought and stayed out of his way.

  We reached a small stream. Nathaniel stopped abruptly. “Wait here a minute. I’m going to get my bearings.” He bounded up the nearest tree.

  I sat on the ground under the tree and pulled my bag onto my lap. I rooted around until I found the cloak and pulled it out. I knew it would be harder to creep through the trees wearing it, but I was cold enough to put up with a little inconvenience.

  Nathaniel landed beside me. “Still on course. I see where we can cross. Come on.”

  Nathaniel was silent as he broke a path through the tangle of plants alongside the stream. I followed without too many snags, even though most of my mind was on Nathaniel’s slumped shoulders.

  After a few minutes, Nathaniel sighed. “Sorry to be so gloomy. The worst part of it was, when I sought out Sagessa, she said she would help, no matter what, she would try to help. At least I thought that’s what she meant.”

  I watched him but stayed quiet.

  Nathaniel snorted. “If this is help … ” He swatted a branch out of our way violently enough to break it and send it and several others crashing down into the stream.

  I was going to let the subject drop, but the story rattled around in the back of my mind as we walked. I knew it was reminding me of something I’d heard before. Nathaniel was quiet, deep in his own thoughts, while my mind kept worrying over the tale, until I said, “It’s like Sleeping Beauty.”

  “Mmm?”

  I realized I’d spoken aloud. “Sorry.”

  Nathaniel turned his massive head and looked at me. “What did you say?”

  I shrugged and shook my head, feeling silly. He probably didn’t even know that story, and if he did, dismissed it as a children’s tale.

  “I see, it was meant to be insulting.”

  My head snapped up, my mouth opened to protest, but the corners of Nathaniel’s mouth were turned up, as close to a smile as he could get.

  “Well?”

  I shrugged again. “I just said it’s like Sleeping Beauty. You know, the last good fairy tries to help after the princess is cursed.”

  Nathaniel stared at me, his eyes blank and distant. He wasn’t confused; he seemed to understand the literary reference. As the silence stretched, I wondered what to say to make it better. I was still searching for words that would help when I heard short gruff growls and I realized he was laughing.

  “I suppose, to the princess, a hundred years sleep didn’t seem very helpful either. I didn’t think of it that way.” Nathaniel was quiet again, but I didn’t see tension in his back.

  As we came to the log where we could cross the stream, Nathaniel snorted. “I’d really rather be the prince fighting through thorns, doing something. Being the sleeping princess makes me feel useless.” He climbed onto the log and padded across. Halfway over, he turned. “Maybe you get the exciting part.”

  I didn’t know how to answer that.

  *

  Eventually the sun dipped behind the tree line. I pulled the cloak more tightly around myself. It had almost been warm enough in the sun, but I was shivering as I sat down to eat. Nathaniel slunk into the woods to find his own meal.

  As soon as he was gone, I started rubbing my arms to try and bring some warmth to them. It didn’t work, so I gave up and unwrapped some bread and cheese and made a sandwich.

  I heard a branch snapping and knew Nathaniel was coming back. I tightened all of my muscles, trying to stop shivering.

  Nathaniel barely glanced at me as he padded into camp. “I haven’t seen another living thing since we entered this part of the forest. I think we can risk a fire.”

  I resisted the temptation to jump to my feet. I got up slowly, trying to look like my normal, not freezing, self. “I’ll get some wood.” I re-wrapped the rest of the sandwich and gathered fallen branches from around the camp. I still had matches, some carefully hoarded from those I’d brought, some stolen from the manor house, and it only took one try to get the fire going. I settled down near the flames and waited to get warm. Nathaniel stretched out beside the fire, across from me. Feste seemed impervious to cold and curled up in a mossy indent nearby.

  I waited for the fire’s warmth to reach me. It didn’t. There was no warmth at all. I edged a little closer, but I couldn’t feel any heat. I reached my hands out, very near the fire. Still nothing. I looked at Nathaniel.

  He was just as confused. “Do you feel anything?”

  I shook my head.

  Nathaniel got to his feet and approached the fire, slowly circling it, going closer each round, until he leapt back with a screech of pain. I could smell burning fur. I ran forward and used the edge of my cloak to smother the last of the sparks, all the while insisting to myself that the new smell was something on the cloak and not Nathaniel’s flesh burning.

  When the flames were out, Nathaniel took a few mincing steps away from me. I could see the bare patch where the fur had been burned away, but I had not felt any heat in his skin. Still, the fur was definitely singed and the skin beneath was red, and I knew from the stiffness in his back that Nathaniel was in pain. I took out my water bottle and poured some onto the edge of my cloak. I held the cool cloth against the burn. Nathaniel winced, but did not pull away as I kept the wet cloth pressed to his side. After a few moments, I poured more water over the cloth, and kept doing it until he stopped flinching.

  “I took some salve from Mistress Leone at the manor house. It might help.”


  Nathaniel followed me to my bag and let me rub the medicine into his burn. He winced again as my fingers lightly touched the reddened skin, but did not complain.

  “There was no heat,” he murmured, “no heat at all, but pain.”

  “So it must be burning,” I said as I dabbed the salve on. “But where is the heat? What does it mean?”

  “We’ve entered a cursed realm. There is no heat here. No comfort.” Nathaniel lay down by the fire again, gingerly this time, favoring the side that had been burned. “My castle is cursed.”

  I wiped my hands on the edge of my cloak. “You think we’re getting close?”

  Nathaniel nodded. “If Crawa and Sagessa are locked in a battle, he hasn’t got time to curse places, and this is powerful magic. I think we are on the edge of Crawa’s realm, where it touches my lands. He’s pulled his land’s curse into my realm with him.”

  I thought it was probably a silly question, but I asked anyway, “Why is the castle so close to him?”

  “Protection, of course.” I realized he meant protecting his people, not the castle. Nathaniel rested his head on his paw. I unwrapped my sandwich again.

  Nathaniel broke the silence. “You could try toasting that. Clearly the fire can burn, so it should work, and it’ll probably taste better.”

  I held my sandwich in the fire, one half at a time, careful to keep my hands away from the actual flames. The cheese did melt and the bread toast; even though it wasn’t warm, the day-old bread did taste better.

  Nathaniel watched me eat. When I had finished my sandwich Nathaniel said, “We’ll leave the fire for light. There’s no need for a watch tonight; a cursed forest will keep all but fools away. I wonder what that says about us.”

  I smiled and pulled my cloak around myself, curling up far enough away from the fire so I would not accidentally roll into it with no heat to warn me. I curled up as small as I could, trying to cover as much of myself as I could with the cloak.