I slipped through the cat-flap and took a turn of the garden—you really don’t need any more information than that. Except that Maahes had thrown a nexus around the garden next door. That was what was bristling with magical energy.
I slipped in through the cat flap, glad to be out of the reach of that vile trap and glad to be heading away from Maahes.
Monica and David appeared in the living room with a suitcase. Monica went into the kitchen and gathered a few things into bags, not forgetting a half dozen pouches of cat food.
She called through, “David, can you get Felicity into the box? We should have bought her a crate…”
David retrieved the box from under the stairs and opened the top flaps. He approached me, and I yielded, allowing him to lift me into it. I had never been so glad to be in a box. I was leaving this place and the frenetic energy emanating from the house next door.
Once we were all in the car with the luggage, David set off. “I found a cottage rental with a sea view a couple of miles south of Sennen Cove in Cornwall. It doesn’t look like we could find anything more secluded at this short notice.”
“Ok,” said Monica. “Sounds good, Baby.”
I napped, coiled in the bottom of my secret hideaway. No, my castle. No, my chariot drawn by winged elephants. No, a cocoon of spun silk. A box to a cat is a heavenly haven. It can be what we make it. And we do, make it that is. It’s the simple things that please a wise old soul…
We arrived a couple of hours later, and I was unpacked with the luggage and provisions. Ha-ha, they’d remembered to bring my bed. As soon as we had crossed the threshold, the box was opened, and I sprang out to explore this place. Yes, it was the cottage with the thatched roof. I explored the cottage, the garden, and the surrounding area. David had done well. There wasn’t another property in sight, which made things much less precarious regarding our conversation scheduled for this evening. The garden was tended, if a little overgrown, and the cottage was near perfect. The flagstone floor in the kitchen was a delight to walk on, there was a wood-burning stove to cook on, and a welcoming bay window beyond the dining table, looking out into the garden and the English Channel. This would do nicely!
There was the chimney, no smoke yet, but I trusted these two to do the right thing. Oh, there was a well in the garden. How quaint. This place was positively bursting with warmth and homeliness. I started to relax. The air around here was uncontaminated with magical intrigue and there wasn’t the slightest sign of Maahes. Hurrah and huzzah!
Once they had unpacked, they pulled a couple of chairs from the dining table and came and sat together, side by side, facing me.
‘’You said you wanted somewhere quiet and secluded where we can talk, so here we are. Are you ready to talk?’’
They still looked incredulous, as if they couldn’t believe what they were doing, but bless them, they were doing it. I thought about telling them of how I had been a cat minding her own business in lower Egypt when Jannes had chosen me due to my unmistakable beauty and had gone about his diabolic business, calling on one of the sweetest spirits I have had the pleasure of encountering and binding both me and her to his purposes.
“Thank you,’’ I purred. I knew it formed like words in their minds. “Enjoy your day and each other’s company and we can talk tonight.’’ And with that I took another catnap.
Monica and David pottered around the house for a while, speaking in muted tones. At some point, they left the house. I hoped they were going for a long walk or maybe to find a pretty little café where they could enjoy a cream tea.
Whatever they did, they were out for most of the day.
Evening came around, and Monica and David returned, bringing some Indian food and red wine with them. Monica fed me while David served up the Indian food and poured a couple of glasses of wine.
I ate and then went and hopped up into the corner seat by the dining table. This would give me a good view of the sea and allow me to speak face to face with Monica and David.
They ate their dinner and sipped at their wine, casting looks towards me every now and then. Once they were finished, David cleared the plates away, refreshed their glasses, and set about lighting the wood-burning stove. It wasn’t particularly cold, but it added a lovely dynamic to an already beautiful evening.
He sat with Monica at the table and addressed me. “Ok, Felicity, let’s have it, what’s so important it’s got a cat talking?’’
I stretched and smiled, then relaxed. “Nashwa,” I purred. “I think the time is now, in this place.”
It must have seemed that I levitated a few inches as Nashwa materialized. It only took a matter of around twenty seconds, but it must have been quite the surprise to Monica and David.
So, there I was, curled in the lap of a beautiful lady whose skin glowed with an effervescent light and who had wings folded across her back. Her eyes were so intense and kind at the same time, it inspired something close to fear, while at the same time relaying a sense of calm. Nashwa and I had been together since that fateful day when Jannes decided to add a ‘magical’ cat to his portfolio. This sweet, powerful spirit had been trapped on the earthly plain and in my body since then. We had a bond stronger than most people could ever imagine.
She spoke. “Monica, David, thank you for being prepared to overcome your natural instincts and for paying attention to my little friend here.” She stroked my back fondly. Her touch was so gentle and affirming, I was melting under it. If I wasn’t careful, I would fall asleep, and that wouldn’t do. I wanted to see this and how it played out.
Monica smiled tentatively at Nashwa, looked at me, and said haltingly, “Ah, who are you, what are you, what is this about...?”
Nashwa smiled back at the young couple. “I am known as Nashwa on this plain,” she said. “It’s not easy for you to pronounce my original name but Nashwa is the closest you will get to it. It means ‘wonderful feeling’ or ‘happiness.’
“In terms of what I am, I am a light-bearer. I carry healing and have a gift for helping people to conceive and carry to term when they’re struggling to get pregnant.”
Monica bit her lip. Big, hot tears streamed down her cheeks. David moved in close to his wife, putting his arm around her shoulders and drawing her into an embrace. Man, this was tough, I really felt for them. I realized now that the pain I had seen in Monica’s eyes when I first met this couple reflected her deep desire to have a baby. Something that had alluded them. I could feel a lump in my throat. All sorts of miscreants managed to get pregnant with no trouble at all. Why hadn’t this lovely young couple been blessed with the life they wanted to bring into the world? I hopped down from Nashwa’s lap and crossed the room to Monica and jumped in her lap. She laughed through her tears and stroked my back.
Nashwa continued. “As for what it is, about, three thousand years ago, an Egyptian magician called Jannes was serving in the temple of Bastet. He was tasked with declaring Bastet’s blessing on the barren. The women who frequented the temple (they were almost always women) were often well off and gave generous donations to the temple. Jannes knew that he could increase the revenue to the temple, which he benefited from, getting a percentage, so he went about making his craft viable by bringing me into the temple so that these ladies’ barrenness turned to fruitfulness.
“He took my beautiful friend here,” she smiled fondly at me, “and invoked the heavens to fill her with a spirit that increased conception and healthy birth. ‘Let this spirit embody Nashwa and be accommodated in this servant of Bastet.’” She paused and looked at the couple opposite her. I was overwhelmed with a maelstrom of emotions. Jannes had no right to enslave this beautiful creature to his service. His original summoning and binding had been powerful and lasting; the Egyptians had no problems with the notion of eternity, so their spells and incantations often included passages about serving for thousands of years. And yet I had enjoyed such a varied, rich and vibrant life with her. Then again, we had been sold and passed on from one mystic to an
other, more often finding ourselves in the grip of some wannabe sorcerer who only saw a rich source of magic to exploit for their own ends. I sighed and felt the weight of years on my heart
When Monica nodded, Nashwa continued. “I was yanked out of my own realm and found myself ensconced, albeit without a choice, within Felicity Tenderfoot here.” I smiled and purred at my long-time friend. We had been on so many adventures together, looking to most of the world like a beautiful little cat but possessing such a power to do good and bring joy as Nashwa allowed her natural gifts to manifest wherever we went.
“Jannes made a pretty name for himself as a powerful magician and made a good bit of money in the process. It also set him up for a future in a Pharaoh’s service as a magician. His longevity was due to his manipulation of another Spirit. I can assure you that had nothing to do with me. Well, after a few centuries working among the folk living in Egypt and bringing about babies where they wouldn’t have existed, we were sold to a trader who travelled with a caravan and we ended in Greece.”
Nashwa had such a rich, sonorous voice. Sometimes it sounded as there were two notes vibrating in harmony in key words, when she spoke about something with passion. It was both a pleasure to listen to her explain our lives to Monica and David, while at the same time I felt a tug at my heart and a tinge of sadness. Could our partnership be nearing its end?
“We’ve travelled across Europe, what’s now known as America and through Russia and the Balkan states. Mostly the folk who ‘owned’ us were magicians, mages, medicine men, wise women, or charlatans of some description.”
She wasn’t wrong. I shuddered as I remembered when we had been living with a Romany wise woman, Vadoma, who made healing potions and salves and read people’s fortune for them. She would curse and bless with equal measure and that for a silver coin. As we trekked deep into the Russian forest she called upon Baba Yaga and asked her for help to find Zaatar, a root that was rare in those parts.
The old crone looked at her and laughed, a cruel cackle escaping her thin, wizened lips. “And what will you give me for this knowledge my daughter?” She looked past Vadoma into her caravan and straight at us. I say us because I felt seen, as though someone had just inspected every molecule in my body, while at the same time knowing she saw Nashwa in her natural form, beautiful, gracious and powerful. I thought for one horrific moment that the old witch was going to demand that Vadoma hand us over in exchange for the Zaatar plant. But her gaze didn’t linger on us. Her eyes swiveled independently of each other and the left one swept the ceiling, coming to rest on a bejeweled lamp hanging there. Her right eye swiveled in and she fixed her gaze on the lamp. “Ah yes, that will do.”
Vadoma bowed low to the old hag, turned and unhooked the lamp from the interior of her caravan. “Here you are wise mother.” I’d never seen Vadoma this deferential to anyone in the thirty-seven years that we’d been her ‘familiar’.
Baba Yaga screeched to the canopy overhead and a solitary raven with one eye spiraled down and landed on her shoulder. “Sacha my dear,” she crooned. “Take this little sister to the falls of Povnikev and show her where the Zaatar grows.” And with that our audience with Baba Yaga was over. It still drove a chill through the very core of me.
Nashwa continued: “Our combined aura is a little inconspicuous. Occasionally, we would find ourselves as a ‘pet’ in a ‘normal’ family, but we’ve always been tied into the supernatural world of magic through a spell or a promise until now. Our latest ‘owner’ died unexpectedly, having not bound us effectively in a spell and having not promised us to anyone, which is how we were able to get away and find you.”
Monica took a deep breath. David was still holding her around her shoulders. “So, what’s the plan now?” she said. “You’ve found us, what happens now?”
Nashwa smiled and sighed gently. “Now you choose. You know who I am and what I carry. You can invoke me to quicken the life in your womb, or you can dismiss me. If you choose the former, I am bound to you and Felicity for your lifetime and until such time as another opportunity presents itself. If you dismiss me, I will go home, and Felicity Tenderfoot will be free of her uninvited guest and will get to live out the rest of her natural life as a cat. She will be free to hunt and play and rest and grow old without attracting the attention of every witch, warlock, wizard or sorcerer that’s looking to grow more powerful or make more of a name for themselves.”
Monica sobbed, great wracking sobs that shook her badly. “The one thing we have wanted was to have a baby, but I’ve never imagined getting pregnant and carrying to term. You’re here telling me I could simply ask, and we would be pregnant and bring a healthy baby into the world. But the cost…” She continued, “How could I possibly be so selfish and condemn you to who knows how many more years of being at the beck and call of people wanting this, that, and other? I can’t do it. You’re free to go. Thank you for trusting us with such a precious decision.”
David pulled Monica into a deeper embrace. “Just when I thought I wouldn’t love you anymore, you go and do something like this.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks and kissed her warmly.
As they looked back across the table, Nashwa was looking deep into my eyes. We both had tears coursing down our cheeks. We had grown to love and respect one another so deeply, this moment was such a potent concoction of pain and joy and sorrow “I will see you, Felicity Tenderfoot. Enjoy your time with these humans. They’re a rare couple.”
And with that, Nashwa turned back to Monica and David. “Thank you, and congratulations on your imminent arrival—” She looked towards Monica’s womb, and Monica felt an energy like liquid love filling her veins. She knew that life was quickening inside her. Her eyes grew as big as saucers and she started to say; “But you said I had to ask…”
“No,” replied Nashwa. “I said you could compel me if you chose to. This was always a gift I could give you.”
Nashwa smiled and gradually shifted into particles of varicolored light that drifted upward into the night sky over the sea. My heart leaped and a lump formed in my throat as I saw her embracing the freedom she had longed for over the millennia, without a single complaint. I was going to miss her.
Monica looked over at me and said, “I am pretty speechless now, but I’m sure you’ve got lots stories about you and Nashwa. I hope I can hear them sometime.”
I toyed with the idea of playing dumb, but this wasn’t the time for japes. They’d been through a lot in the last day or two.
“Sure,” I answered her. “Let’s talk soon.”
Liam Pickford writes whatever grabs his fancy. This project gave him the necessary kick up the bum to get restarted, so he’s writing again. He will appear in other places writing other genres. Watch another space!
32
Can We Keep It?
by Mark Stallings (Shadow Alley Press)
On the heels of a horrible storm, the children bring home something that will alter their lives significantly.
A piercing shriek lanced through the afternoon, easily overpowering the football sounds from the television. For a second, panic gripped Don’s heart until he heard another excited screech. Relaxing, he settled back into his easy chair and turned up the volume.
With half an ear, he followed the exhilarated shouts as his daughters opened up the back door, calling for their mother. He tried vainly to focus on the college football game.
After a couple minutes of giggling and babbling, his wife poked her head into the study. “Don? Can you pause that for a minute?” she asked, her blue eyes twinkling.
Don sighed heavily and hit the pause on the DVR. He hoped that Auburn could pull this game out. That done, he turned his attention back to his wife. “Okay…”
She looked behind her. “Okay,” she said softly. “Show him.”
Twin whirlwinds of blonde bundled energy burst into the room holding something and shouting words and excitedly pointing at whatever they were holding. The cacophony was overwhelming.
&n
bsp; “Stop!” Don said firmly, holding up both hands. “Lucy, you go first.” He tried to see what they were excited about.
“Daddy, Daddy!
“We-found-this-kitten-in-the-backyard-and-he’s-so-cute-and-mommy-said-we-had-to-ask-you-if-we-could-keep-it-so-can-we?” she said in one breath and held up a small cat.
The cat was orange furred with white stripes and bright yellow-green eyes. It had obviously been in the rainstorm that blew through last night. It looked sad and helpless. Don looked from Lucy to his other daughter, Linda, who was hopping from foot to foot, a hopeful wide-eyed expression on her face. Don glanced up at Peg. His wife was doing a slow nod for yes that Don took to mean he was completely outnumbered.
“Okay—” Don started before the girls erupted in ear-splitting shrieks of joy at a pitch only six-year-old girls could reach. “Hang on, hang on.” He calmed everyone down. “If we are going to keep it, there are some rules.” That sobered them up. “First, we need to make sure someone isn’t missing the kitten.” They nodded. “You need to work with Mom to put up pictures at the mailbox.”
They looked at Mom. “We can do that. What else?” she asked.
“We need to take it to the vet to get shots,” Don continued. “Finally”—he looked at the two girls— “you need to make sure you feed it.”
Lucy squealed and Linda clapped excitedly. They both rushed forward and hugged Don.
“Thank you, Daddy,” they said in stereo.
Don opened the front door. Leroy, the local mail carrier, was there with a package.
“Hey, Mister Franklin,” he said. “I have another package for you.” Leroy offered the box. It was covered with bright red labels with bold black lettering that read “Heavy.”
Hellcats: Anthology Page 55
