by Taki Drake
Within a matter of moments, she heard the sounds that she had dreaded. There was a certain tapestry of sound when the mistress of the house went anywhere. It was partially composed of the rustle of rich garments, silks against silks in a soft murmuring background, punctuated by the click of intricate heels on whatever hard surface they encountered. This small symphony was further strengthened by the low-toned voices and intense adoration that all of the Witch’s staff exhibited.
TT hadn’t realized before how often her Witch was told that she was wonderful. Listening now, she heard the people surrounding her Witch from a different perspective. The cautionary statements from Drew, the offers of assistance from the footman, everywhere that her Witch went someone was feeding her ego.
“Madame, I regret to tell you that the animal is still around,” said the Butler in a conciliatory tone.
“How is that possible? Is that stupid little thing doing this just to frustrate me? I need to have a Familiar and I’m certainly not going to have one that isn’t up to standards!” responded the Lady Rosemary.
“The hound master does not believe that the animal will be around much longer, and I would have to concur. It is in a totally disgusting stage of debilitation. It can’t even clean itself.”
“Good! It deserves to be miserable and to hurt for causing me all of this inconvenience. However, I need a healthy Familiar to keep my looks up. I have no idea how that stupid animal survived that much poison. However, if it hangs on for too long I suppose I’ll just have to hurry it up one way or another.”
TT listened as the Butler and noblewoman moved further away, their voices getting fainter and fainter. The shock to her heart left her immobile, caught in a web of indecision brought on by betrayal and injury. She felt like something that was dead but still moving.
Going through the motions of habit and instinct, TT laid back down on the blanket and tucked her paws under her chest. Her eyes burned with sadness, and she longed for the human ability to cry. It was as if her world had been contained in glass and that brittle material was now shattering.
Numbly, she realized that the hound master was stroking her, murmuring words of comfort and encouragement. Adelphia had rejoined them and had curled her body around TT, offering what comfort she could.
Different sounds kept playing in TT’s head. Fragments that repeated themselves over and over again. The angry, vindictive sound of her Witch’s voice saying, “Good! She deserves the pain and suffering…” The footman’s voice talking about taking out the trash. And the realization that her Witch had been draining her Familiars to maintain her own appearance.
Without knowing it, the Persian had been bonded to a practitioner of dark magic. One that used others for their own personal goals at a level that ripped out their Familiar’s essence and threw them away when their resources of magic were totally depleted.
The sound of breaking glass as her world shattered again and again grew louder in TT’s head. Like an attack wave, it got bigger and more dominant until it swept the small cat’s consciousness away again.
Chapter 6 – When First You Fail
This time when TT awoke, she knew exactly where she was. She could tell that she was physically better, but everything felt remote to her. Her overwhelmed emotions had shut down, leaving her operational but insulated from the rawness that the repeated discoveries and betrayals had produced.
Adelphia let TT know that the cook was no longer bringing food to the kennel. Over the next few days, a variety of house servants had come by with so-called treats for TT, each of which was more tempting than the last. The Persian suspected that her Witch was trying to finish her off. The hounds agreed with her, telling her that they could smell the wrongness of the food.
With a cat’s less defined sense of smell, TT could smell nothing but the mouthwatering odors of food that she had once loved. It was torture. Every time one of her mistress’ minions had visited the kennel, TT had to repeatedly balance her fear against the tempting aromas that rose from the offered dishes.
The attempted poisoners were now coming to the kennel twice a day. There was no opportunity for TT to sneak any food because it seemed like there was almost always someone around, watching her. Only when all of the spies were out of the kennel could the cat move around freely. During those moments, usually in the evening, TT raced around the kennel trying to regain her stamina and agility.
After nearly being caught once by a surprise visit, the cat now chose to do most of her agility practice in the whelping room. In there, she found amusement and challenges with the growing puppies. Even if she was not actively chasing or being chased by the little ones, TT could curl up next to Adelphia and watch as they wrestled and tumbled with each other. Their innocent joy was a boon to the little cat. Like a salve that was applied to a wound, that uncluttered and unfeigned interaction was helping the Familiar work her way through the tangled mess of her emotions.
The cat’s hunger was getting stronger, and it was becoming more of a challenge not to eat the poisoned food. If TT didn’t want her willpower to break, then she needed to find something that was safe to eat.
The smaller female nursing her pups in the whelping room had a suggestion. << Why don’t you catch a couple of mice? I’ve seen cats that catch mice, although they don’t do it the way that we do. Of course, we are usually catching rats which are little more of a challenge, but even a mouse would be helpful because they get into the grain stuff around here and if it’s part of your typical food then why not try it? >>
TT didn’t really have a good reason not to take the dog’s advice. After all, mice were a typical food for cats. Some of TT’s relatives were actually renowned for their skill in catching small prey. Unfortunately, TT had never learned those lessons. When she tried to explain this to the terrier, the animal responded, <
<< I guess not. But rather than try to chase something with all the babies chasing me, I’ll go look for them elsewhere in the kennel. >>
Adelphia interjected, << Just be careful. Don’t let anyone see you. >>
Murmuring to herself repeatedly, << I can do this! >> TT left the whelping room and headed for what she considered her theatrical room, the one that had the staging of the blanket and where she reclined and looked pitiful for visitors. In here, the Familiar thought she would be better off figuring out how to hunt. Perhaps, she would be lucky enough to find that it was all instinct and it would miraculously take over when she saw the mouse. Right! And I vowed not to delude myself in the future.
The Persian had no more entered the room than she saw motion in the corner. It was something small, fast, and scurrying. Feeling excited, the cat gave immediate chase. It was a mouse! Perfect. TT tried to let her instincts take over. It was not working. Hello? Instincts? I’m inviting you to play! Nothing happened. TT found herself staring nose to nose with a small rodent that looked at her with absolutely terrified paralysis.
I simply don’t know what to do, admitted TT to herself. Raising her left paw and extending her claws, the Persian reached slowly out and poked the mouse. There was no sudden revelation of what she was supposed to do, no emerging knowledge or guide to help her. After a split second, the mouse regained its ability to move and took off like a little speed demon, disappearing from view with a rapidity that showed that its instincts were working just fine.
TT collapsed on her blanket. She couldn’t decide if she were disappointed or embarrassed at the failure of her attempt. The only thing she did know was that she was hungry.
<<<>>>
The impasse lasted for two more days. The blandishments and bribes of a variety of foodstuffs had reached their peak and TT was not sure how much longer she could hold on. Her once glossy coat had become ragged, and it was obvious that she had lost weight. Although she didn’t feel as bad as she looked, the Persian knew that she was not in the best health and what little energy she managed to get was still being siphoned off by her Witch.
<<<>>>
Adelphia was pacing again. Her speed had increased so that she was almost frantic in her movements, and TT suggested that they leave the whelping box so that the mothers and babies were not disturbed. So great was Adelphia’s discomfort that she had agreed without any argument.
<< I can feel it! Something is about to happen, and I don’t know what it’s going to be. All I can tell is that it is big, >> said the immense hound.
<> was TT’s rejoinder.
Whatever else might have been said was interrupted by the sound of the click of wooden heeled shoes on the rough floor of the kennel building. TT and Adelphia both froze in place, listening intently.
“Draco, what brings you down to this small corner of the estate? Not enough to keep you busy up in the main house?”
The overly-precise tones of the Butler could be heard in response, “Our mistress has decided that the situation with the cat has gone on long enough. She has decided to take matters into her own hands and requires you to bring the animal to the back courtyard immediately.”
The older man must’ve made a motion of negation because the Butler spoke again. “Do not think to set yourself up in opposition to our mistress’ desires. Remember that you are replaceable. And that only her good nature keeps your precious hounds alive. So get the cat for me, and I will take the blasted thing myself. But put her in a carrier, so I don’t get flea-bitten.”
Adelphia and TT looked at each other with concern. The Persian could tell that the dog was distressed. Understanding that and realizing that giving up a member of her pack without a fight was going against every instinct that the immense hound had, TT gently said, << I knew this time was coming. Please don’t grieve. Whatever happens, I will carry the memories of your kindness with me. >>
Walking with slowed and leaden footsteps, the hound master entered the room,. He was carrying a box that he placed on the floor, removing the top. Horror and distress were written all over his face, and TT couldn’t bear it. As he kneeled to gather her up, the cat jumped up on the man’s knee. Purring as loudly as she could, she rammed her face into the bottom of his jaw trying to tell him how much she appreciated him.
Whispering brokenly through the clog of tears in his throat, the roughhewn man said, “I am so sorry, little girl. I have no way of saving you. If I try, they will kill the puppies and all the rest of my dogs. This is just not right, and I feel helpless.” Dropping his head close to his chest the man let tears fall silently as TT felt herself being mourned.
This may be my funeral, but I’m going to it in my own way, she thought to herself. Jumping into the box, the Persians stretched over the top and stuck her claws into the lid in an attempt to drag it back into place. Her antics brought a break in the sadness that was permeating the room. Uttering a short laugh, the hound master took the lid from her and placed it squarely over the top, saying, “You understand. May the gods go with you and may we meet again.”
Adelphia had not moved during the scene that had just played out. TT could feel the dog frozen in massive indecision. Two instincts were warring within the canine’s chest, and TT could see the impact of first one and then the other. Reaching out with a gentle, mental touch, the Persian said, << I choose to do this. Keep the puppies and the mothers safe. I know you would anyway but also protect this human that cares about all of us. He deserves better, and I hope that someday he gets that reward. >>
A pained-drenched whimper of protest and farewell was the only response from the big dog. TT could feel her connection to Adelphia becoming fainter and fainter as the hound master carried her outside and to whatever doom faced her.
In the box, at that moment, TT realized that she always had a choice. She could make a decision to do what was expedient or what she thought was right. Whether she lost or won, it was important to the ratty-coated, exhausted and drained Persian that she had played the game to the best of her ability. Dascha had been right, she realized. Sometimes evil won, but to allow it to win without resistance was to allow it to prosper.
With that she was content.
Chapter 7 – Escalation
The lid of the box was wrenched off, and a big hand grabbed TT by the neck scruff of the neck. Hoisted into the air with a motion that was rapid and disorienting, TT found herself thrust into a circle that had been painstakingly inscribed on the paved ground. Before she could react at all, she felt the familiar touch of her Witch’s magic, and the wards in the circle came up from the ground in a tall column. From experience, TT knew that she was now confined to that circle and that any attempt to leave would be unpleasant, to say the least.
Looking around, TT saw that there was only a small audience. Of course, her Witch was there. The Lady Rosemary was dressed in a stunning gown with a beautifully-worked overrobe. The dress was partially concealed by the ritual robe, offering only teasing glances of the splendor of the elaborate embroidery. Attended by only Drew, the Butler, and two footmen, this working was as private and unobtrusive as any that TT had seen Rosemary conduct.
TT was confined to one circle, and the Witch was standing in one of equal size across from the small cat. The Familiar saw that the Witch carried a parchment in her hand and that her face was set in a peeved expression. Her eyes snapped with irritation, and her whole posture proclaimed her anger and resentment of the situation. Obviously, things had not gone the way that her Witch had planned.
Try as she might, TT could not regret this. Rather than flail around in futile efforts, TT stood calmly, wrapped in dignity, waiting for her Witch to say something. Deep in her heart, the Persian dreaded what was coming next. Her fear would not change the outcome. All she could do was her best to be true to herself. She waited as the Witch stared at her in expectation, but refused to play to the woman again. There would be no begging, no trading of more of her soul for brief moments of life.
TT did not have to wait for long.
“This is your fault, you know. You could have gone quietly like the others, but no you needed to be difficult.”
<< Rosemary, my Witch, please don’t do this. This is a betrayal of everything that is supposed to be good between Familiars and Witches. >>
“Silence! I told you once before that you were never to address me again! You are ugly, worthless! I should not have to endure even thinking about you! So I bid you be SILENT,” commanded the Witch.
TT could feel a shell around her that kept her from speaking on the Familiar bond. The rejection by her Witch had chopped off TT’s final attempt to make one last try at calling to any good within the selfish woman who she had adored. The self-centered rejection of her overture finally destroyed the last illusion that TT had about the Lady Rosemary. The attitude of entitlement, the actions of a person with a narcissistic, self-centered perspective on life, carried no room for true affection or caring.
The cat acknowledged to herself that she had never been anything but a tool to the woman. The memory of the offerings of herself, her skills, and the complete adoration that she had paid to the Witch raised bubbles of nausea in TT’s stomach, to the point that she felt like throwing up. Only the thought that the Witch would enjoy her discomfort allowed the cat to keep control of her body functions.
Momentarily lost in her thoughts, TT was rudely brought back to the present by a sudden pulled on her magical essence that caused pain to radiate throughout every fiber of her body. Like a snake that strikes in the grass, this attack was subtle yet strong. The Persian could see that he
r fur was standing straight out from her body as if she had been struck by lightning.
The pain that bounced from limb to limb left fiery trails of ash-filled agony in its wake. Even the air smelled like ozone to the cat. This would have been debilitating a year ago. But she had learned to deal past pain, past some forms of agony. I can do this, the cat vowed to herself. Dredging up more stubbornness than she thought that she possessed, and focus from somewhere deep in her soul, TT tried to analyze what the Witch was doing.
Rosemary was standing inside of her circle with a piece of parchment that now glowed with magic. TT could feel that her end of the mage bond ran through that piece of paper as if she were bonded to the paper instead of to the Witch. She could also see a more tenuous line that ran from the Witch to the piece of paper. It was almost as if the bond had been routed through the paper.
Spells that affected the Familiar bond were not ones that saw a lot of experimentation. There had been nothing mentioned about those spells at the last Familiar Trials. TT had known that it was possible to repudiate the bond, severing it forever, but did not have the faintest idea how to do that. Apparently, Rosemary did.
TT watched as the anchoring of the bond to each of the participants and to the piece of paper became visible to the naked, human eye. She could tell when that happened by the sharp, indrawn breaths of the Butler and footmen that were in attendance. Interestingly enough, the lady’s maid, Drew, was not surprised. I wonder how many of these she has seen over the years, thought TT.
As the Persian cat watched, holding tightly to her magical sight, she noticed that the shadow of the bond was moving. Until it did that, she hadn’t realized that there were two aspects to the termination of each end of the bond. To her enhanced sight, the two looked like a pairing of brightness and shadow. If TT had thought about it, she would have assumed that they were unseverable. However, as she watched the shadowed piece of the bond that cloaked Rosemary’s form shifted so that the shadow moved rapidly and overlaid her own body. This meant that TT was covered with a double shadow, looking greyer to magical sight. By contrast, Rosemary sparkled with a clear brilliance, unencumbered by any darkness, like a jewel that had perfect clarity.
