"We could track her down!" Talia exclaimed, leaning forward. "Yes, of course, I mean, that's how my curse was broken, so—"
Cruelty waved a hand. "No good," she said. "She's the one I was talking about. We'd have to break her out and I don't know where she is."
The Beast almost slumped. It was understandable, Cruelty thought, to be crushed by the sudden hope and loss thereof. "I see," he murmured.
"You have magic," Martin pressed. "Can't you find her?"
"She has magic too, but she's probably too drained to get out of things," Cruelty said. "And we're pretty drained ourselves. I don't know how we'd spare the energy to track her down and get her out. Hell, I don't know how we'd get in there. I've got the kinds of spells that can be used for infiltration, but almost no energy left to use them. Most of the others here don't; they're not enchanters or fairies. We can only do what our Motifs allow us to. Besides, it's not like we can teleport somewhere we haven't been. It requires us having been there first, or having someone with us who has."
An air of gloom filled the room. "Then," Martin said, gathering himself, "if the Beast could appear in public as himself... I mean, people will probably still assume special effects, but that's a risk that could happen even with a transformation, and it'd still add material for people to believe in—"
"I can't," the Beast said, his voice so low it made a grinding sound in his throat. "Please... don't ask that of me. To be the focus of the world's gaze, it's... I cannot."
Martin looked frustrated, fists clenching then loosening. "Well, then we're going to have to come up with something better, but nobody here looks as fantastic as you."
"I can," the Cat said.
They all looked at him. He'd stretched out on his side sometime during the long conversation, limbs akimbo, yawning loudly when he noticed their attention on him.
"Tim," Cruelty said, "um, people don't think cats look, you know, like fantastical creatures. Human beings have cats. Cats exist."
"Tom," the Cat said, offended, and pushed himself half-upright to lick his shoulder, awkward around his fat. "Anf thaff not wha I meanh."
Talia frowned. "What did you mean, then...?"
"I can get in," the Cat said with a sigh, flopping back onto his side. "Cats go where they want. They don't need to have been there before. They just go where they want when they want. Everyone knows that."
"If that's the case," Talia said, "regardless of the rest of the plan, we should rescue her as soon as possible. We can't let her suffer if we can rescue her."
"There's no way the Cat can do it alone," Sixth protested.
"Not alone," the Cat said. "I still have plenty of energy, so I can make a way to bring a few of you. And I'm an animal, so I've got a connection to her anyway. Beast Enchantress, and all."
"And after..." Martin began, then hesitated, shook his head. "Well, we can leave the rest of the planning for after."
Chapter Sixteen
The Cat went first, exiting a door in the castle and then disappearing as soon as anyone looked around the door frame. Cruelty closed her eyes, drawing in short breaths and trying to calm and center herself. This sort of thing, she thought, used to be so much easier. Making a plan, taking action. She'd become so emotional lately, so easily worked up by just about everything. She really didn't want all these feelings.
Not that something like this wouldn't be intimidating even without them. She'd heard the Enchantress calling when it had first happened and had kept herself well out of it. Diving right into the territory where that witch had been taken wasn't something she'd want to do, regardless of whether her feelings were an utter mess or she were calm and cool and in control.
But she had to be one of the ones to go. None of the others in the room had much power at all, let alone power that would be effective. Marlinchen's bird could carry heavy things, but that was about it. Brother Deer and Odette were trapped as animals. Odile's power was useless; she could only mirror Odette. The Beast had no power of his own. And so forth and so on. Cruelty, at least, had small amount of spell energy returned to her after breaking the spell on Talia. Thinking about that, she broke, too, the curse she'd put on Rick. He still deserved punishment, but he didn't matter any more. It was only a tiny amount of power that came back to her, but she couldn't afford to waste any possible resource. It wasn't enough to fight with, perhaps, but she could maybe put the people in the facility to sleep. Make it simple, traditional.
Sixth, too, was going to accompany them, and was arming himself. It was a sword, of course. It probably wouldn't hurt, but she wasn't exactly sure how much it would help against modern weaponry. Still, the idea of going in with at least a little princely backup was a help. She almost felt a little grateful right until he picked up a second sword and handed it to Talia.
"Okay, hang on," Cruelty said. "Talia isn't coming."
"Yes, I am," Talia said. She jerked her chin up stubbornly. "This is my plan and this is my responsibility, so I'm not sending you two in alone."
Cruelty crossed her arms. "Exactly," she said. "This whole thing is your plan. You're the leader, so you need to make sure you stay safe to see this through. The Enchantress is... okay, if we can use her to break the Beast's spell in public and help, great, but she's actually not the main issue. This world is. And it needs you safe."
"I could say the same for you," Talia said, jaw set, bright eyes narrowed a little as she stepped closer. She belted the sword around her waist. "If you get captured, who's going to reopen all those gates only you have control of? We do this together, and we'll keep each other safe."
"If I get captured, I'll blow the gates all open right away and leave them that way," Cruelty said bluntly. "And, uh, look. Let's face it. You can't keep me safe." She scoffed, letting scorn etch itself into her features. "Earlier today, you could barely stand. You've got that down now, but you have no idea how to use that thing you've got on your belt, Princess."
Before she could push her argument further, the path opened; the door the Cat had passed through warped slightly as he invited them along after him. Cruelty glanced at it over her shoulder, then back at Talia, whose cheeks were bright and expression determined.
"Better to have it than not, since I'm going anyway," Talia said.
"You—"
And that was all she got out. Talia grabbed the front of Cruelty's shirt and pulled her in, leaning close and pressing her mouth to Cruelty's. It was brief and rough and dry and Cruelty could feel their teeth clank together, but it was definitely a kiss.
Then Talia pushed her aside and strode through the gate.
"In front of everyone, Talia?!" Cruelty yelped. Perhaps the idea of getting captured, never to return, wasn't so awful after all. She followed after Talia through the gate without looking around at the others.
They found themselves in a small bathroom. The ladies' room, from the way it looked. For a moment, Cruelty was confused, but it quickly dawned on her why the Cat would pick here—no cameras. Not bad thinking for a cat.
A cat who was nowhere in sight, however. She looked around, stepping in front of Talia just in case, as Sixth stepped through after them, glanced around, blushed.
"What now?" he murmured softly, adjusting his wing at his side awkwardly.
"The Cat must have gone on ahead to clear the way," Talia said. "Rue, let's go."
Cruelty bit back on a protest against the pet name and nodded, very carefully pushing open the metal door just a crack and glancing through that to get a view down the hall.
Several people in bulky uniforms, firearms belted at their waists, were crouched around something small and orange and fat. They were petting it.
"He's cute and all," one said, his voice more confused than anything else, "but how did he get in?"
"He's a cat," another said with a laugh. "They're like that. I swear they teleport or something. My boy at home gets into closed cupboards all the time."
A third, this one a woman: "He's pretty well fed, to put it lightly, so
he's probably not a stray. Maybe he's a mousing cat from one of the farms around here?"
"Pretty sure he's a pet. Maybe he got out of a car or something? We'll have to contact some shelters. Look at him drool, haha..."
Cruelty put a hand out against the wall, one of the seeds she brought with her pressed against her fingertip, and focused on pouring energy into it. A vine extended from it and grew, sliding along the rough painted stone walls. She was hyper-aware of the very faint sound of it, the scrape of its trichomes on the paint, catching there as it slid down the hall. She focused, making it inch along until it crossed the guards, getting them in her range.
She pushed power through it, and their voices slowed, slurring. What she was doing, focusing on the humans alone, cost a bit more energy, but she didn't want to knock the Cat out as well. Their attention was distracted enough that it seemed worth it.
"... ugh, his purring's making me tired..."
"Walk it off, hah… My boy at home has sleep beams too, if you curl up with him, you'll ..."
They slumped over.
She waited, letting the sleep settle around them. Once she was sure they were out, she let go of the seed and opened the bathroom door wider, gesturing the others out. "Come on. We need to move fast in case they've got surveillance on this corridor."
The three of them darted down the hall, stepping carefully over the guards to avoid disturbing them. As they caught up, the Cat lifted his round chin and gave them a reproachful glare.
"Nice distraction," Talia told him. "You're a good boy."
"I was getting petted," the Cat told them mournfully, and let out a chest-heaving, wobbly sigh. "Oh well. The holding cells are down this way."
He took off at a trotting waddle, and they started off after him. Sixth drew back on their arms, slowing them. "Not too fast," he murmured. "We do need to keep moving, but we should let him scout out things ahead. He's obviously somewhat disarming to the people here."
So they let him go ahead, and followed at a slower pace—down another corridor, through a door, down a set of stairs. The Cat paused at the door at the bottom of those, his tail flicking, and glanced back at them. "Through here," he said. "It's watched and guarded. I'll make sure I get attention on me, but there's cameras. You'll only have a small amount of time once the guards are out. Well, do your best."
He nudged the door open, the lock mysteriously opening for him, and padded into the hallway.
"The hell? How'd a cat get in here?"
The three of them gathered around to peek through the gap in the door as a few more guards came to take a look at the Cat. These seemed more alert than the previous, some standing and glancing around as the others bent to look at him. It didn't seem, Cruelty thought, that they could sneak up the same way; this was too far into the facility.
"... hey, he's not looking healthy..."
From where they were, they couldn't see what the Cat was doing—but they could hear it. It started with a cough, and then choking, and gagging, a wheezing sound...
The fucker was dying on them, Cruelty thought with some admiration. Sure, it was something he did anyway, but she was pretty sure that, while a bit traumatic for everyone involved, it was definitely a show of commitment to his job.
Sure enough, even the more attentive guards had pulled closer and were talking in concern.
"Look, maybe radio for help?"
"Does anyone here know how to treat cats?"
"There's the vet for the dogs, right? She'll know what's up—"
One of them did get their radio out—admirable care for the poor animal, but not something Cruelty could risk. The Cat's drawing the guards' attention was one thing, but bringing more people down here was another. Even though there was the chance she'd be seen doing it, she repeated her earlier gesture, pressing a seed to the wall and starting it growing. She pushed power hard, sending it moving out much, much faster than before, not wanting one of them to radio for assistance before she could reach.
"Hey, what's—"
She got the end of the vine to them just as they turned to look, shoved power through it desperately. The guards slumped almost as one, and she could hear thumps from the cells around them as the imprisoned people around passed out as well.
Talia took off past her immediately, not waiting for Cruelty to get her hand off the vine, glancing in each cell as she passed and dismissing them as the wrong ones as she went; Sixth followed behind, more Talia's guard than anything else. Cruelty let go of the vine, shaking her tingling hand, and followed after them. She couldn't help but notice the domes dotting the ceiling of the hall at regular intervals; this area, at least, was obviously high security and she was sure they didn't have long before backup would arrive. This security breach had probably already been noticed.
She caught up to the others as they stopped in front of a cell. It was certainly the Beast Enchantress inside, arms bound and slumped asleep on a single bare cot, her hair in front of her face, but something seemed wrong about her. Cruelty couldn't put her finger on it, but a chill went through her at just the sight.
"Locked," Sixth muttered, shaking it. "And I don't see the lock..."
"It's that slot," Cruelty said, pointing. "There's probably a pass card on one of the guards."
"Do we have the time to find it?"
Talia shook her head, then drew her sword. It was with an awkward, unfamiliar gesture, but despite that, Cruelty felt impressed at the sight of bare steel in her hand. "Hang on. This I can do," Talia said, and jammed the sword into the key lock.
By itself, it wouldn't be enough, Cruelty thought—if anything, by all rights it would just damage the lock and ruin their chance to get in. But it wasn't just by itself; Talia herself represented a sense of freedom now. The card slot, as she sliced it off, sent arcing electricity along the bars. They sparked for a moment, then went out, and the cell door swung open.
They hurried inside, and Cruelty rushed over to grab the Enchantress, shake her from the spell.
As soon as she touched her arm, that feeling got indescribably worse. She should have a sense of who and what the Enchantress was, but nothing was there. It wasn't even like touching a human being; it felt like touching an object. Still, they didn't have time to worry about it; this was who and what they came for.
She woke the Enchantress, who opened her eyes and lay there a moment, just gazing up without any visible emotional response. It didn't look like there was any energy in her at all, despite her previous deep sleep. And then she said, in a distant, curious tone, "Cruelty, is it?"
"That's right," Cruelty said. "We've come to rescue you."
That finally got a reaction. Those dead eyes widened, and suddenly welled up with tears, dripping down her cheeks. An expression crossed her face as well, a little belated to her tears: an almost embarrassing degree of gratitude. It was shameful. If Cruelty ever had such an expression on her face—well, she thought, might as well kill her now. No proud enchanter should be brought to that; they cursed others, they wielded power and manipulated situations. That desperate ruined pride was almost not worth surviving.
"Thank you," the Enchantress said. "Thank you."
Cruelty looked away. "Don't mention it," she said, meaning it. It was wrong in just about every way. "Talia, can you get these restraints off her?"
Talia came over, touched them to examine, and gave Cruelty a sudden uncertain look; so she felt the problem too. "I think so," she said anyway. "Give me a moment."
Sixth, in the cell doorway, leaned in. "I think you'd better hurry," he said, and then darted out of the cell and down the hall. A moment later, there was a yell, and the sound of gunshots reflecting off metal.
"Shit," Cruelty said. "Beauty, get her, I have to wake the Cat up."
None of the rest of them had the energy to get this many people out on their own; they had to get the Cat to make a pathway out. But the Cat was still dead. Cruelty left Talia with the Enchantress and her restraints, and dove out of the cell.
&nb
sp; Sixth was fending off the soldiers down the hall and providing something of a shield to their activities, flapping his wing to bring up a supernatural wind that pushed some back, spinning his sword and deflecting bullets as he went. It was, Cruelty thought a bit dubiously, a very princely show, and something enough in his domain to work for now, but... as princes went, he was the youngest, the least-loved and least-lucky. She wasn't particularly optimistic about their chances if this dance went on for long.
Cruelty dove in a roll over the sleeping pile of soldiers around the Cat's body, careful not to touch them out of fear of waking them, but keeping herself as low as she could in case they could provide any additional cover. Hopefully, the soldiers would realize their companions were only asleep and not fire in this direction at all; if not, they might at least take a bullet for her. She shook the Cat, who flopped lifelessly. "Come on," she muttered. "Come on, come back to life, you mangy beast, you're all we have—"
Still no response. After a moment, she took her hand off him and closed her eyes tight. She didn't know if it would work—honestly, there was very little reason to think that it would—but the memory of discussing Schrödinger's cat sprung to mind.
If unobserved, he was equally alive and dead, and it wasn't decided until he was observed.
So she kept her eyes closed, and touched him. Nothing. Took her hand back, did it again. Nothing. A third time—
He stirred.
Her eyes opened as his did, and he let out a big yawn, legs stretching out and toes spreading. "Good morning, Cruelty."
"Good morning, Tim," she said. And then, "You need to make us a path home. Now."
"I don't need to do anything," he said, offended.
Down the hall, Sixth let out a cry of pain. A bullet shot past them, chipping the stone next to them both.
The Cat let out an unholy screech of feline terror, ripped open space, and fled, legs scrabbling across bodies and stone.
"It's open!" Cruelty yelled, as loud as she could. "Come on!"
She wanted to dive through herself, be the first one through, but there was no gain in that. She waited, heart pounding, as Talia ran out, dragging the Enchantress with her. Talia frantically hauled the Enchantress up to her shoulder and half-fell, half-jumped over the fallen guards, tumbling into the path. Cruelty waited, too, as Sixth, clutching his bleeding wing, wheeled and ran back the hall toward them. Without him fending it off, the gunfire increased in intensity, bullets chipping brick dust off as they hit the walls. Cruelty flinched, pressing herself as low to the ground as she could. She waited, heart pounding, mouth dry, until he was almost there, then flung herself up, grabbed him, and tumbled through the gate clutching him tightly. She could feel his blood under her hand, smell his sweat and fear, and thought she felt the sting of a bullet rippling the air next to them as she passed through the gate
Beauty & Cruelty Page 17
