by Katy Haye
Keeping to the shadows, I crept around the edge of city square, keeping away from the splashing water of the fountain in the middle of it. I reached the main street and scampered in the direction I needed.
My steps slowed as a delightful scent overwhelmed me, stopping me in my tracks. I couldn’t have moved on for all the wealth in my father’s treasury. My nose and whiskers twitched as I raked the air to find the scent’s source. There. On a windowsill sat a pie, cooling in the evening air. Someone was having a late dinner. My nose couldn’t stay still, drinking in the smells. Fat and flour from the golden pastry, but beneath was the real prize. Rabbit and sheep’s liver, in a rich onion gravy. My small stomach ached, the need to taste the meat overpowering. Without knowing I’d done it, I took a step towards the window. And then another. I crouched, leaning back on my haunches as I assessed the distance from where I stood to the window ledge. The pie nearly filled the gap and I didn’t want to knock it off. I wanted to stand beside it and lick my tongue over the gravy that had leaked through the pie crust. My tail flicked in anticipation. Energy pooled in my thighs as I poised ready to —
“Get on with you! Go!”
I jumped aside, startled, as the door beside the window was flung open. A broom smacked against my ribs. I yowled and fled.
My heart thrummed in my chest when I was far enough away to feel safe to slow down and see where I was. Perhaps life wasn’t that easy when you were a cat, after all. I struggled to focus on my human ambition. I needed to find Lyo’s sister. Lyo would be executed in city square at midday tomorrow if I didn’t find her and help her get him out.
I stalked down the alleyway until I reached the corner and the road sign. I had to concentrate hard on watching the letters. My cat self cared nothing for them, and my human side had to focus to make sense of the name. And then my heart fell. In my fear, I’d gone far adrift of where I needed. I’d have to retrace my steps.
I slunk back the way I’d come. I tried to keep my head down so I wouldn’t be distracted by smells from the human world. But close to the ground the gutters held much worse scents that felt like a punch in the nose when I breathed them in. Putrid water that had laid in puddles for days, waste from the cats and dogs that roamed the city, and the horses used to pull carts. Bones thrown out and left to rot where they fell. Fresh ones might have been a temptation, but these were far from fresh, making my stomach turn over and fold in on itself.
A wail overhead made me freeze once more. Yowls followed. I trod cautiously around a corner and found two cats, backs arched, hackles raised as they faced each other. Alarm surged through me, urging me to escape the danger. I ducked back into the shadows, having no wish to be pulled into the fight. More yowling made my own hackles rise as the fight began in earnest.
I ran a few steps, then stopped, shaking off the paw I’d just planted in a dirty puddle. My human and cat minds argued. The cat wanted to clean the muck off its fur, returning the pads of that paw to pristine condition. The human in me baulked at the idea of the dirt from the puddle making its way into my stomach. I forced myself to push on.
Scopgot Lane was in the mercantile area of the city. The streets were cleaner here, not because they were naturally so, but because the merchants all took care to sweep away any mess outside their addresses, ensuring their businesses looked prosperous and appealing to potential customers. I turned onto the lane itself and found the street empty. No people, no rubbish, not a cat or dog or even so much as a mouse scurried over the cobbles.
It was night-time, and the businesses were all shut up for the night. Doors were locked, and with shutters fastened over the windows I couldn’t even see what each place sold when they were open. Not that I was here to shop. I paced over the paving stones from one end to the other, hoping for inspiration to strike. I sniffed at the air. There were plenty of human smells, but they were no help to me. I had no idea what Lyo’s sister smelt like, so my cat self couldn’t hope to identify her scent from all the others. I knew what she looked like – at least, I thought I could drag a memory of her scowling face from the recesses of my brain – but that was no help when I couldn’t see anyone. I sat on my haunches and craned back. Many of the windows overhead were open, noise spilling out from the families enjoying their evening, but I’d have to get inside each building to see who was there.
And with the street-level doors locked, that was likely to be tricky.
I stared up at the windows and gave a plaintive mew. I’d been so excited to discover that my magic had given me a way to get out of the palace and into the city that I hadn’t come up with a proper plan. Or perhaps my cat brain hadn’t allowed me to think matters through.
Either way, I was left peering up at the windows, hoping that Lyo’s sister might stick her head out of a convenient aperture. My heart sank as the next problem slid into my human brain. Even when I found her, I had no way to communicate why I’d sought her out. I couldn’t talk, and if she could speak to cats … well, that would be even more remarkable than being able to smell magic. The Surranese surely didn’t have quite so many talents.
I might have slunk back to the palace in despair, but I’d let my attention wander. Something snatched me from above, gripping the scruff at the back of my neck. I was lifted into the air and the street fell away below me.
20 – How Much for a Cat Skin?
I struggled ferociously as I was lifted into the air. I was less afraid of the fall to the cobbles than I was of the bird that had caught me.
I twisted and tried to scratch at the creature, but I couldn’t even see it clearly. Fear froze both my brains. All I could think was that I was about to become dinner for an eagle. And Lyo would die thinking I hadn’t cared. No, that wasn’t allowed to happen. I renewed my struggles. Grey cobbles below, dark sky overhead, and a yowling, scratching furball in the middle.
The eagle didn’t care. It swooped through a window and dropped me onto the floor. I landed on a rag rug and crouched, my belly against the material as though I might make myself disappear. My heart thrummed, my breaths coming so rapidly my tongue stuck out as I panted. I looked around the room and tried to force my terrified brain – brains – to think.
There was a fire beside me. I’d been dropped onto a hearth rug. In front of me the rug ran out and gave way to floorboards, bare and rather dusty. To my side was a table, with three chairs set around it. One chair was pushed firmly against the edge of the table, one was set at an angle, and the third was occupied.
As I lay, trying to see where the eagle had got to and wondering why it hadn’t torn me apart yet, the man in the chair leaned forward to inspect me. I wondered if he might pick me up, cradle me to protect me from the eagle, or whether he would throw me back out the window. Either response seemed entirely credible.
He did neither, simply staring and then sitting back in his chair.
The eagle’s arrival through the window didn’t seem to have caused consternation in the room’s occupant and I realised that must mean the bird was his pet. Which meant he’d be on the eagle’s side, not mine. That was confirmed when he spoke.
“Kiri?” His voice raised, calling to someone I couldn’t see. “I didn’t know you were training her to fetch.”
Kiri? There couldn’t be two women with that name on Scopgot Lane. I’d reached my destination – only to die here.
“What?” The response sounded distant.
The man looked at something behind me. The click of a beak made my blood run cold. “You want it, you eat it,” he encouraged.
No! I don’t know where I found the strength, but I dashed from the rug to the underside of the table, desperate for cover.
This was a nightmare. If Kiri lived here, then that meant I hadn’t been snatched by an eagle. Instead, I must have been plucked from the street by the freed dragonette, who had brought me right inside the room where Lyo’s family lived. I turned to look at the man on the chair. Yes, his skin tone declared him of Surran origin. He was several years older than Ly
o, although not old enough for me to think they were father and son. A brother, perhaps. His face was mostly covered with a beard and it was hard to see any resemblance through that.
“Go on, then.” The man sounded bored as he addressed his pet. Hiding under the table I could see his booted foot, and his leg. I was tempted to climb into his lap and dig my claws into his thigh. See how he liked being attacked.
But I had enough human sense to know that wouldn’t end well.
The dragonette hadn’t eaten me … yet. I wanted to shift back to a human, but I was too scared to close my eyes. I needed to make them understand what had happened before the dragonette obeyed their urgings and gobbled me up for a snack.
“You brought it in, it’s yours now.” He was still speaking to the creature, urging it to come and get me. “You need to deal with it, you big coward.”
Claws clacked on the floor. I backed against the wall. If I could get past it, I might be able to escape. The window was still open. I could jump out of it. The distance of the fall scared me much less than the idea of being torn apart by the dragonette’s claws and its savage beak.
A waft of air brought the animal’s smell towards me. I nearly fainted with fear. It smelled of danger, and blood and death. I shuddered and a mewl of terror escaped my lips. I was never going to escape this thing.
“Don’t play with your food,” the man chided. “That’s unkind.” I almost agreed with him. If the creature was going to eat me, then I wished it would just get it over with. Death might not be as bad as this awful anticipation.
Suddenly, the dragonette nudged me, a hard beak pressing my side. I screwed my eyes tight shut, terror switching off most of my senses. The creature had crawled under the table without me even noticing, and now I was going to die. Oddly, that certainty brought with it a measure of calm. I took a deep breath. And a smell other than death reached me.
I cracked my eyes open, sniffing tentatively. I could see nothing, so the next nudge took me by surprise, given that it came from directly in front of me.
I reached out a gentle paw, relieved when I touched something solid where nothing could be seen. I sniffed again, my cat senses trying to interpret the smell, while my human brain worked on the sensation I felt along my skin when I touched the invisible creature. It was magic. It did have a smell; how remarkable.
Another mew escaped me, but it was more optimistic this time. The dragonette recognised me. Or, it had no desire to eat me; that was enough for right now.
“Kiri!” the man called, his voice torn between command and amusement. “You really need to see this.”
“What?” a voice bellowed. A door slammed and footsteps stomped into the room. I shrank back, although this time I shrank against the dragonette’s side, rather than trying to hide from it. If it was invisible, perhaps it could turn me that way as well. I was abruptly unprepared to meet Lyo’s sister again, particularly if she was in as foul a temper as her tone and footsteps suggested.
“What is it?” She stood with legs akimbo, hands on hips, glowering at the bearded man.
“The dragonette is acting very strangely. I let her out for—”
“You let her out of the room?” I pressed against the dragonette’s warm hide as her anger burst overhead.
“Yes, she—”
Lyo’s sister banged a fist against the table. I jumped. The dragonette and the other man didn’t, clearly used to her outbursts. “You do know that creature is the only bargaining chip we have, don’t you?” she demanded, advancing a step.
The bearded man raised his brows. “Of course I know that. She needs exercise. She’s hardly likely to be caught, is she?” he reasoned.
But Kiri had an answer for that. “Their mages can recognise magic. Just because she’s invisible, that doesn’t make her safe.”
Beardy wasn’t swayed – or intimidated. “She needs exercise. You think the fae will think her a prize if she’s been mistreated?”
Kiri dismissed that with a snap of her fingers. “They’ll understand that we had to keep her safe while we were in Muirland.”
Beardy didn’t argue, flicking his fingers to dismiss the topic. “That wasn’t the important thing, anyway. She picked up a cat while she was outside.”
Kiri glanced down at the floor, as though seeing me for the first time. She was still scowling, but her tone gentled. Slightly. “Did you go catch your own food?” She addressed the dragonette fondly. “Clever girl. Maybe you could catch us a rabbit next time, that’ll make our money go further.”
“That’s the point, Kiri,” Beard said, sounding as though he was running out of patience. “She hasn’t harmed the creature. She brought it in without damaging it and now – well, look at them. I think she wants a pet.”
Kiri scoffed. “We don’t have time for pets.”
“No, but I think there’s something special—”
Kiri didn’t let him finish. She leaned down, grabbing me by the scruff of my neck and tearing me away from the protection of the dragonette. She lifted me up so I dangled helplessly in front of her face. The dragonette sat up, clicking her beaky mouth in what I hoped might be support of me.
I was exactly where I needed to be, with Lyo’s sister’s full attention – and it was useless. I mewed, but she couldn’t hope to understand what I meant. Lyo. I thought the word hard at her. If magic could change me into a cat, there had to be some way it could make communication possible.
At her feet, the dragonette got to its feet, claws clacking on the wooden floor.
Kiri peered at me for a long time, then looked past me to Beardy. “How much d’you think we might get at the market for a cat skin?”
I thought I’d felt terror before, but my fear when the dragonette had snatched me was a shadow to the feeling that gripped me when Kiri discussed my fate so calmly. I went rigid, my mind blanking completely.
And several things happened at once.
Magic frittered over my skin. Kiri gasped when it reached her fingers, and dropped me. I twisted so I’d land on my feet. But the magic built, burning through my skin. My bones and muscles snapped back into shape and I crashed against the floor, banging my elbow painfully.
I had just enough time to understand that I’d returned to my human form, and that I was now lying stark naked in the middle of Kiri and Beardy’s room, when dizziness swept over me like a tidal wave. Oblivion followed in its wake, dragging me into the darkness.
Lyo – Another Engagement
Seriously. Did they have another engagement that was more important than getting him out of this place?
21 – I’d Finally had Enough of Fear
I groaned as consciousness returned. My body ached, bone deep, as though I’d been squelched through a mangle. Physical exhaustion held me in an unbreakable grip. But it didn’t affect my mind. I remembered everything, from the moment I’d jumped onto my dressing table and found a cat in my mirror, to my arrival in the room where Lyo’s sister and Beardy lived.
Remembering the threat Kiri had made to skin me, I reflected that at least I was in one piece, even if that piece reverberated with pain and exhaustion. I was still lying on the rug in front of their fireplace, although a blanket had been thrown over me.
“Awake?” A voice spoke overhead. A male voice, so it must be Beardy.
I groaned, all the confirmation I could manage.
“You’ll be tired and sore, but you must eat.” He ducked down, blocking the light. I blinked into his hairy face. His brow was furrowed, but with concern rather than anger. “Can you sit up?”
I tried to struggle into a sitting position. Beardy reached towards me, then stopped, his hands hovering an inch or two from my blanket covering. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to behave with Muirland women. Am I permitted to touch you?”
“Unquestionably not.” I groaned again and grabbed his hand before he could withdraw it completely. “But since you’ve already seen me naked, I think we’re going to have to give propriety a miss.” He heaved m
e into a roughly sitting position. I shifted the blanket to ensure I was properly covered, curling my legs under me. I groaned again, biting back the sound but unable to stop it entirely. My whole spine felt as though it had been pushed and pulled and twisted so that nothing was where it ought to be.
“I’m sorry, I would have put you in one of the beds, but Kiri wouldn’t let me.”
My aching head tried to make sense of what he’d said. “Who put her in charge?” I mumbled.
He laughed. Then he put a pottery cup in my hand. Steam wreathed into my face from the fragrant contents inside and my head swam.
“Careful.” When Beardy put his hand on my shoulder I realised it was the scent of food that had made me faint. “You need to eat. Using magic takes a great deal of energy.”
Did it indeed? I drank down the soup, pushing away the sense of jealousy that rose in me. Did all Surranese know enough about magic that they had every confidence in dealing with a woman transforming from a cat to a princess? I was sure no Muirlanders would have the first idea what to do. I didn’t, and it was my magic.
Beardy handed me a plate containing a hunk of bread, then sat back, leaving me to eat. I dipped the crust in the last of my soup and chewed. All the food did was rouse the beast in my stomach. Far from being sated by the soup and bread, it rumbled ravenously.
“Kiri has gone to the market,” Beardy said. I hoped that was an answer to my stomach, meaning that more food would be forthcoming soon.
I set the cup and plate down. “Thank you. Before the dragonette grabbed me, I sought you out deliberately. Lyo has been imprisoned in the cells at the palace. We have to get him out.”
