Cat's Quill

by Anne Barwell

  A shiver ran through him, remembering something Cathal had said. His people had been lenient on him once; the second time, they might not be so forgiving.

  "What aren't you telling us, Tomas?" Donovan straightened into a standing position, watching Tomas carefully.

  "Not here." Tomas wasn't sure what there was to tell. His headache aside, none of it had made sense. But one thing was growing clearer. This was not a puzzle he could solve on his own, not if he wanted to do so in enough time to help Cathal, if it wasn't already too late.

  "Once the doc's checked you over, we're talking, okay?" Donovan put up his hand to stop any protests before they started. "I want Heidi in on this as well."

  "And me," Mikey piped up.

  Tomas started to glare at the boy and then stopped. Mikey had met Cathal and had said something about this place feeling the same as the tree. That could be important; nothing should be dismissed. "Okay," he admitted, another thought occurring to him. "But I need you to do something for me."

  "What?" Mikey eyed Tomas suspiciously. "I'm not running messages and stuff for you. After all, it was me who found you, and Cat was nice to me." He nodded almost sagely, the expression looking a little off kilter on someone his age. "Besides, he believes in dragons."

  "Yes, he does." Tomas couldn't help but smile at the memory of another conversation he and Cathal had had. "And in magic." He glanced around the room, lowering his voice to an almost-whisper. "Go home, Mikey, and bring me the rest of the letters we found. I think we're going to need them."

  * * * *

  "Hmm." Dr. Harry McKenzie mumbled the sound under his breath for the second time in as many minutes, and Tomas found what was left of his patience beginning to wane. Another light was flicked into his eyes, and he pushed the penlight torch to one side.

  "I'm fine," he muttered irritably. This was wasting time. He'd hit his head. So what? Apart from the headache, he was feeling a lot better than he had been. A couple of paracetamol had taken the edge off, and his stomach had stopped trying to turn cartwheels and threaten to empty its contents whenever he moved.

  "Let me be the judge of that, young man," Dr. McKenzie informed him. "After all, I'm the one with the medical degree, not you." He was a middle-aged man, appearing to be in his early fifties, although looks could be deceiving. His hair was still dark except for patches of grey at his temples, and his gold-rimmed glasses insisted on slipping down his nose only to be shoved back up again when they attempted to escape completely.

  "Dr. McKenzie knows what he's doing, Tomas," Heidi reassured him. She'd been hovering since they got back, her hand going to her mouth when she'd first seen Tomas and heard that Cathal was missing. Tomas had only agreed to the medical examination on the proviso that Donovan take Doug back out to the scene of the crime immediately. At first he'd been reluctant to tell Doug what had happened, but both Donovan and Heidi had urged him not to leave anything out, as doing so would only hamper the investigation. Doug had raised an eyebrow at the description of the men Tomas and Cathal had encountered, said eyebrow going still higher when Tomas had repeated the dialogue between Gwalch and Cathal.

  "I think he'll live, Heidi," Dr. McKenzie announced finally. "With the extent of the bruising and his reactions, I suspect he may have a mild concussion, but I'll leave you with a list of symptoms to look out for that, and any other complications that might occur. Any concern at all and don't hesitate to phone me, either at the surgery or at home. I can organize further tests if we need them. If he's difficult to rouse at all, seems very disoriented, or that headache gets suddenly worse, phone an ambulance. It's better to be safe than sorry, I always say."

  "I am in the room," Tomas muttered, "and there's nothing wrong with my hearing."

  "Normally I'd say that irritability is another sign," Dr. McKenzie continued as though Tomas hadn't interrupted, the sides of his mouth twitching, "but in this case, I'm going to take an educated guess that it's his normal state." He scribbled something on a pad and handed it to Heidi. "Get this script filled when you're able. They'll help with his headache."

  "Thank you, Harry." Heidi slipped the prescription into the pocket of her cardigan. "Now, would you like a cup of tea before you leave?"

  "That's very kind, Heidi, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline." Dr. McKenzie smiled at her in thanks. "I want a few words with Doug before I go about this blood sample you found." He returned his equipment to his medical bag. "I hope your friend shows up safe and sound," he said to both of them, shaking his head. "Nasty business, and something I thought would never happen in Oakwood." Placing his cap on his head, he paused and tipped it to Heidi. "It's nice to see you again, Heidi. And to meet you, Tomas."

  "I'll see you out, Harry." Heidi gave the cup of untouched tea in front of Tomas a pointed nod before leading Dr. McKenzie toward the front door.

  Tomas watched them go for a moment and then leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. Dr. McKenzie seemed okay as doctors went, if a little old-fashioned. Still, both Heidi and Donovan seemed to trust him, even if the thought of him being the village equivalent of a crime lab made Tomas feel uneasy, to say the least. He ignored the visuals of Dr. McKenzie huddled over an old-fashioned microscope with a dog at his feet and his wife bringing him scones and hot milk while discussing the latest gardening news.

  He sighed. This was ridiculous. Cathal had been taken, and the only resources they had to call on were a village GP and one policeman who probably wouldn't know a major crime if it came up and bit him in the arse. Rubbing at his temples, he willed his headache to go away completely, but it didn't want to cooperate. Going to bed or resting was not going to happen, not while Cathal was out there going through whatever.... No, Tomas didn't want to dwell on that. His imagination had always painted a bleaker picture than reality, and for the moment he didn't want to deal with either of those.

  Closing his eyes, he bent his head to rest on his arms. Heidi would be back in a moment, and then they could talk. Or rather they would talk. She had made that very clear when she'd exchanged worried glances with Officer Doug Greene, her current boyfriend who moonlighted as the local Scout leader in his spare time. Naturally that made him Mikey's Scout leader as well. If Tomas remembered rightly, that had been the whole performance behind Mikey's insistence of being present in the attic when the letters had been found. He'd been looking for things that could be sold to make money for the jamboree. Did everyone know everyone else in this bloody village? It was a stupid question to which the answer was obvious. How long would it be before everyone knew about Cathal and that he'd disappeared and that Tomas was telling some tall story about men in uniform who most probably didn't exist?

  He could hear Mrs. O'Neil now. God no. Tomas groaned. That would be just what he needed. Mrs. O'Neil deciding she could help find Cathal. The little voice in his head, which had been fairly well behaved for at least the time he'd been unconscious, decided to remind him that at this point, he was not in a position to turn down any kind of help whatsoever. Even if it did come in the form of Mrs. O'Neil. He could picture it now. Tracking down these guys and Mrs. O'Neil waving her umbrella at them and telling them they had no manners and really, did they have any idea what they were doing?

  A laugh escaped his lips, a cocktail of bitter and wild, his sanity having fled the building completely at that idea. What had happened to the whole idea of the knight coming to the rescue of the damsel... er, okay, damsel in distress wasn't going to work here. He could see Cathal's glare at the mere suggestion. Although slender of build, Cathal was no weakling. The incident in the kitchen had shown that loud and clear.

  "Tomas, are you okay?" Heidi touched his shoulder lightly. "Do you want to rest in your room for a while? You've been through quite a bit."

  "No!" Tomas opened his eyes with a start, his thoughts still a jumble, unsure as to whether he'd been drifting half between sleep and waking or whether he should blame the whole thing on the bump on his head.

  "You're not
okay, or you don't want to rest?" Heidi sat down on the chair opposite him. There was a fresh cup of tea in front of both of them. She indicated that he should drink. He picked up the cup obediently and took a sip, noting the addition of quite a bit of sugar. The thought crossed his mind that he should point out he didn't actually like sugar in his tea, the odd time he drank tea, but decided that might not be in his best interests.

  "I don't want to rest," he clarified instead. A couple of slow sips of the hot, sweet liquid gave him the cover of time to try and put more thoughts together, ones which made sense and didn't sound like the mad ravings of someone suffering from more than a touch of delusion.

  "Okay." Heidi nursed her own cup, the fingers of her right hand tapping a steady rhythm on one side of it. "One condition, though." Her tone grew more serious, enough so that Tomas looked up and met her gaze straight on.

  "And that would be?" he asked warily. He was not in the mood to be mothered or anything of that ilk. There was neither the time nor the luxury for it. It was bad enough that he was sitting here now instead of out there looking for Cathal. Unfortunately he needed to feel steadier on his feet first, and he had no idea where to look.

  "That once Donovan gets back, you tell us everything." Heidi held up her hand to silence him when he opened his mouth to protest that he already had. "Not just about what happened today, but everything that's happened since you and Cat met." She shook her head. "I know evasion when I hear it, and he was a little too good at it for my liking." Her eyes narrowed. "You aren't much better. That story you told Doug had pieces missing. I know it did, and so did he. The only reason he let it slide was because you'd hit your head. He's a good guy, Tomas, and if something has happened to Cat, he can help. You need someone who knows the area and the people, and you don't. He's born and bred here. His family goes back several generations."

  "You know the area," Tomas said. The idea of sharing the events of the past few days with anyone was making him uncomfortable. The more he tried to piece things together, the crazier they sounded, with the thought of that damn sequel only serving to muddy the waters still further. Yet he still couldn't shake the feeling that it was connected somehow. Gwalch referring to Cathal as "Lord Emerys" had only served to confirm that, especially when Cathal had not denied the name.

  His hand went into his pocket, fingers curling around the button Mikey had found. Donovan had handed it to Tomas to keep rather than Mikey, despite Mikey's protests, for which Tomas had been grateful. It was his only tangible link with Cathal now, something to remind him that this whole situation was real. Besides the bump on his head and his sore stomach, that was.

  "I've only lived here for about five years," Heidi reminded him, her fingers stilling. "I'm not a local, and although they've been welcoming enough, that can still make a difference, especially when they decide to close ranks on something."

  "Why would they do that about this?" Tomas wasn't sure how the comment was relevant to the current situation. "I'm not local either, and neither is Cat." He paused, frowning. "At least I don't think he is, not in the normal sense of the word, anyway."

  "Where's he from, Tomas?" Heidi pushed a plate of scones in his direction. He wasn't hungry, despite her trying to persuade him to eat at least something other than the dry toast and vegemite she'd insisted he have earlier.

  Picking up a scone, he munched on it absently, his stomach growling slightly to remind him that despite what he thought, Heidi was right and he should be eating. "I'm not sure," he had to admit finally. "He spoke a lot about his people, and not being from around here, but he never gave me a straight answer." He nodded toward the window, choosing his next words carefully. "I met him by the old oak, and he just always seemed to be there." No, there was something else, but it sounded crazy. Tomas paused, his second scone poised between mouth and hand.

  "But?" Heidi prompted, "or, and? I can sense it's one or the other." She put her cup on the table, fixing her attention completely on him. He fought the urge to push back his chair and run, but in the end the need to be honest, as it was the only chance he had to find Cathal, won out.

  The scone lowered, and Tomas sighed. "I saw him disappear into thin air once too. I tried to reach out, but it was like he was literally fading away, and then he was gone. My hand went right through his."

  Heidi stared at him, reached over the table, and placed her hand briefly over his forehead. "Was that before or after you hit your head?"

  "It was the second time we met," Tomas told her. "It's real, Heidi, just like what happened this afternoon was too." He dropped the scone down onto the table, ignoring the dull thud it made, lowering his head into his hands. "I'm losing it, aren't I? I finally find someone I want, and I can't even talk about him without sounding like I'm delusional." His head came up, and he searched her eyes. "He is real, isn't he? This whole thing isn't a figment of my imagination? When I'm with him, I feel like I'm alive, that it's worth getting up in the morning. I want to write, I want to talk to him, spend time with him...." He slumped back in his chair.

  "He's real," Heidi said gently; her hand reached out to cautiously rest on his to offer comfort. "Donovan and I met him, and he's very real." She smiled. "You're not crazy, Tomas. You're in love." Her tone softened further. "He acted and sounded like it was mutual too. There's probably some logical explanation for all of this."

  "I don't care what it is," Tomas said. "I just want to find him before those bastards do anything to him." He pulled his hand free and stared at the biscuit but made no move to pick it up.

  The front door opened and then slammed shut. Heidi got up from the table to re-boil the kettle. "In here, Donovan!" she called out. "I'm making some coffee."

  "I need to go get something," Tomas decided, standing up from the table. It was time to share everything he knew. Even if it meant having to admit he'd taken the letters.

  "I'll get it. You're staying there." Donovan poked his head around the kitchen door, one arm still in his jacket. "What is it?"

  Not wanting to argue with both of them, Tomas sat down again. He was feeling a lot better, but he knew that once he got to his bedroom, the temptation would be there to close the door behind him and not come out again for several hours. He'd had enough of company and questions for today, but unfortunately for the moment and until Cathal was found, they were going to continue to be a necessary evil.

  "My bag. Everything is in that." For a moment he could have sworn he'd had it with him; he'd been carrying it everywhere lately, but as it wasn't here, it must be there. No. Wait. Hadn't he had it in the kitchen when he and Cathal had come inside for lunch? Confused, he looked around, panicking when he couldn't see it.

  "It's in your room," Heidi said reassuringly. "I found it in the kitchen after you left and put it there for safekeeping. We'd hoped that you and Cat had found somewhere dry to shelter from the bad weather. Mikey found you just as we were about to call Doug to ask if anyone had seen either of you."

  "I'll get it," Donovan repeated, giving Heidi a questioning look. She shrugged. "Make me some coffee, and we'll talk in a few minutes," he continued before disappearing, footsteps sounding against the wood of the stairs as he ran quickly to retrieve Tomas's bag.

  "Would you like another cup of tea, Tomas?" Heidi topped up the plate of scones and placed another one of the biscuits next to it while she waited for the kettle to boil.

  "Coffee," Tomas decided, hoping it might help to clear his head. "I'm not really much of a tea drinker." Her eyes narrowed. "Although I did enjoy the tea you made me, it was very nice," he said hurriedly, helping himself to another scone. "So are these."

  "Flattery is always good for winning Brownie points," she told him, "even when it's obvious as hell." She came back to the table with two cups of coffee, gave one to Tomas, and put the other down in Donovan's place. Taking his empty teacup over to the sink, she grabbed her own cup and sat down next to him. "Just be honest and direct with us over this. I'm not in the mood for crap, and
neither is Donovan. I don't think you are anymore either, are you?"

  Donovan walked back into the kitchen before Tomas could answer, dumping the bag down on the floor next to the table. "Are you lugging the crown jewels around there or something?" he asked. "It weighs a ton, even for a guy like me who's used to carting piles of heavy stuff."

  "Piles of books, you mean," Heidi corrected, "bibliophile that you are."

  "Love you too, Heidi." Donovan grinned and poked his tongue out at her before making a grab for a couple of the biscuits, helping himself to the chocolate ones hidden at the bottom of the pile. "So... Tomas, what's going on? Really?" He held up fingers, bending them down one at a time as he covered a point. "So far we have him not admitting where he's from, being evasive as hell, dressing and speaking like he's definitely not from," he made inverted commas in the air, "around here, and you being knocked out by something or someone, him missing, and blood at the scene of the crime. What do you want to add to that?"

  Tomas took a gulp of coffee, not sure where to start. In the end, after several moments of Donovan and Heidi both watching him, he shifted uneasily, deciding that it might be easier to show them. Picking up his bag, he opened it and took out his journal, Emerys's book, and the pile of letters.

  Heidi spoke first. "Those are the letters from the trunk in the attic," she said slowly. "I don't remember giving you permission to take them. I said you could look through the stuff up there, not help yourself to personal belongings."

  "You didn't," Tomas answered honestly, not even attempting to sound apologetic when he wasn't. "I needed them. They're clues. Mikey has the rest; that's what I sent him home to get for me."

  "They're someone's private letters, Tomas!" Heidi exclaimed, banging her cup down on the table. "I don't care if they're clues. You can't just help yourself to other people's property. This isn't some damn mystery novel, and you sure as hell aren't Miss Marple."