Eleven
Calypso
Azulin had come barging around the screen sparking with magic and intense fury, which he directed at the massive black cat that now sat demurely across from me on the king’s bed grooming the white blaze on its chest. I sat back on the bed and eyed the pair of them.
“I mean it, Herman.” Azulin jabbed a finger at the cat. “Leave her alone.”
“As though he’s ever listened to you,” Ghost scoffed.
In the depths of the labyrinth, I had been aware Azulin was handsome. He was fae after all—a species known for their physical appeal—and not just any fae, he was the Seelie king, a high fae. Generally, they tended to appear humanlike enough they could pass for us humbler sorts—well, almost. The intense handsomeness, strength, charm, and magically enhanced charisma made them clearly superior when placed next to even the most appealing human.
However, the sight of Azulin in only a muted gray linen shirt, the wide neckline gaping open, and leggings gave him an air of disheveled vulnerability that did strange things to my senses. His hair, normally perfectly behaved and brushed back, hung over his forehead in a mess of damp tangles as he agitatedly tucked his shirt into the waistband of his pants.
“I don’t care if he—” Azulin broke off with a groan. “Herman.”
The cat coiled his black tail around his sooty paws and regarded Azulin with an air of mischievous innocence. His startling green eyes widened. Then he started producing the most extraordinary sound, almost like—I couldn’t place it—a metal chain being dragged across wooden floorboards, perhaps.
“Don’t you start purring at me, you troublemaker,” Azulin hissed. “I know you too well to fall for that. No magical hijinks, no harassing her—in either form—and under no circumstances are you to lead her on a merry chase anywhere.” He narrowed his eyes at the cat. “And no kidnapping.”
The rusty-chain-on-wood sound stopped abruptly, and the cat turned his back to Azulin and began washing his face.
“He does magic?” I asked. Herman appeared to be a normal cat—well, a very large normal cat. True, there appeared to be an extra layer to him, a frizzle of magic perhaps, but otherwise—
“The creature is pure magic.”
I reached out and offered my hand to the cat. Anything to avoid noticing the way Azulin stalked barefoot across the room toward us.
Losing interest in washing, Herman sniffed my hand.
“Don’t be fooled. He’s a menace.”
The cat lowered his head and shoved his forehead under my fingertips in a clear demand for a rub. I caressed the top of his head, and instantly the clanging sound of his purr started back up again.
“Traitor,” Azulin muttered.
“I thought you wanted him to like her,” Ghost said.
“Not too much.” The king narrowed his gaze on the cat as he continued to pace. “Protecting her from the court was going to be hard enough, but him—”
Herman approved of my caresses and began working his way into my lap, clearly intent on gaining my full attention. He radiated warmth, soft, and familiar. I willingly allowed the intrusion and Herman settled in the curve of my crossed legs, overflowing it with his size, while I resumed stroking his silky fur.
“So, what makes him special?” I asked, my attention completely on the cat. “I mean, other than the dramatic, magical arrival.”
When neither male answered, I looked up. Both of them were staring at the cat in my lap.
“Well, that is a first,” Ghost muttered.
“Herman is a sithcat. A rare magical creature of mischief and general mayhem.” Azulin’s monotone drew my attention to his features, but his expression had turned cold and distant. Only his eyes betrayed that he felt anything behind the mask.
“Herman seems a strange name for a magical cat.”
Ghost coughed.
“I named him when I was six.” Azulin’s weary tone hinted at a story.
I regarded him with raised eyebrows.
“Herman was my favorite name at the time.”
“You must’ve really liked this Herman, then.”
“I was a lonely child to think a disagreeable cat was worthy of such a name,” Azulin snapped. “We should retire. Lady Anon, if you stop petting the cat, he will leave. The sun is up.” He glared at the cat still purring aggressively in my lap. “Herman, isn’t it time you should leave? The sun is up.”
I reluctantly paused my petting watching as Herman regarded Azulin boldly. The sithcat offered the fae king a very slow blink but didn’t move.
“Herman, I have had a very trying few days, and we are both exhausted. Kindly get off my bed.”
An explosion of magic and a blink and I was no longer on the king’s bed. Herman and I had been transported to the floor. I yelped, but when I tried to scramble away, I discovered I couldn’t move. However, I did violently sneeze thrice. Herman didn’t appreciate that.
With a protesting pst , pst sound, he bolted from my lap only to pause a few feet away and yowl at me in protest. Then, with tail held high, he disappeared with a pop of magic.
“At last!” Azulin exclaimed before stalking back toward the screen.
“The approval of the sithcat.” Ghost crossed the room to offer me a hand to my feet. This time, my legs cooperated.
“He definitely didn’t sound approving in the end,” I muttered before stifling a yawn.
“Nonsense. If he didn’t approve, he would’ve dumped you somewhere truly offensive like the dung heap. He has done that to quite a few of the stable boys who attempted to chase him with a broom.”
“He might still do that. He dumped me there quite often when I was young,” Azulin added as he reappeared around the screen. “Here.” He extended his hand toward me. “Give me your hand.”
I offered my left hand because it was closer to him.
He shook his head. “No. The other one. I am not marrying you.”
I frowned at him in confusion.
He held up a silver-and-gold circle, a ring. “Your protection.”
Claiming my right hand, Azulin slid the band onto my first finger. It was far too big, but before I could point out that it would fall off, he muttered a few words under his breath. The metal curved, separated into tendrils, and tightened, wrapping itself around my finger from knuckle to base, similar to the way the vine wound around my other arm. When it stilled and solidified again, the metal band had become an elegant gold-and-silver knotted ring.
I stared at it for a moment, experimentally bending my finger. The ring didn’t hinder the movement at all. “What does it do?”
He turned my hand over, examining something I couldn’t see. Then, closing my fingers into a fist, he squeezed it gently. “Keeps others from using fae binding magic on you.”
“But how?”
He shook his head wearily. “I can’t explain now. Now go and sleep well, my lady.” Azulin turned me by my shoulders and nudged me toward the dressing room door.
I obediently slipped into my makeshift bedroom and closed the door behind me. Within, I found that the servants had gone to great lengths to make me comfortable. But I didn’t have the energy to appreciate it all. Instead, I climbed beneath the blankets on the couch and fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, I woke from a dreamless sleep to hear voices.
“Is the curse broken?” a raspy voice asked.
“It does not appear so,” Azulin calmly replied.
I glanced around the dressing room. No one was within the room but me.
“The moon rises full again tonight, sire,” a gruff voice observed. “Will you be drawn back into the curse?”
“Not if I can help it.” Azulin’s voice maintained a monotone that revealed nothing of his feelings.
I sat up on the couch and turned to eye the door to the king’s bedroom. It was only partially closed, which explained why the voices were so clear. Based on the clarity of their voices, I suspected the speakers must have been standing right outside the cracked door.
“Something must have changed, sire,” a third voice protested. “You have never returned while the moon was still full.”
“Gentlefae, I prefer we focus on the issue at hand.” Azulin’s voice chilled. “I have returned. The curse has shifted. That is all you need to know. What business is so desperate and pressing that you could not wait until my recovery to address it?”
Someone cleared their throat and a shuffling sound signaled someone else’s discomfort.
Looking down at my gown, a simple thing I suspected had been originally someone’s undershirt, I knew immediately I couldn’t be seen in it. Judging by the reactions of the servants and especially Soren, Azulin’s secretary, my gender alone caused a sensation. And any state of undress would cause further ruckus, which was less than preferred.
So, instead of rising from the bed, I shifted into my cat form.
∞∞∞
Azulin
“Your father is in a decline,” Senior Grizzlemunch declared as he scratched the end of his pronounced nose. A skinny sprite past his prime, Grizzlemunch had advised my father from the time they were youths.
“My father has been in a decline for the past century and a half.” Exhaustion pulled at my shoulders, but I kept them square as I faced my advisory council. The curse clawed at my back, prickling my skin as it attempted to grab hold, and I pressed my shoulders back into my chair. In counterbalance, the magic of my binding with Calypso warmed my left arm. The coils tightened slightly, and I heard a rustling on the other side of the wall. Calypso was awake.
Grizzlemunch grumbled under his breath, drawing my focus back to the matter at hand.
“I do not see how his continued decline should influence my actions at this point.” There was nothing I could do to help my father.
“The mountain trolls have attacked again,” Hubblethin added. The river troll, a massive creature with craggy features, regarded me intently. As one of my younger advisors, Hubblethin tended to push for decisive action. Of all the fae in my court, I suspected he would be the most flexible regarding the addition of Calypso in our midst. I had met his wife, a practical and competent young troll bent on making a difference for their generation.
“I was informed of the attack upon our arrival. Commander Brinner had already departed to deal with it. Any news as to his success?”
“None,” Hubblethin replied with obvious irritation. “But that doesn’t mean we should wait—”
I shook my head and cut him off. “Actually, that is exactly what we should do. Wait. We don’t know anything yet, and the first step of planning is information gathering.”
Senior Grizzlemunch coughed pointedly. “Are you going to sit there all day, sire? There is a delegation to meet and negotiations to—”
“Merow?”
The company of advisors turned toward the source of the sound: Calypso in her cat form. Elegantly adorable, her gray brindled fur gleamed in the midafternoon sunlight pouring through the windows. She surveyed the lot of them dubiously until she spotted me seated at the table Ghost had dragged over within range.
With a flick of her tail, Calypso crossed the floor toward me.
“That isn’t Herman,” Grizzlemunch muttered in a low tone that was probably supposed to be a whisper.
“Soren mentioned something about a cat.” Keddle, a moss brownie, flicked his wings and hunkered down to Calypso’s level. Flattening himself almost prostrate on the floor, he offered his fingers to be sniffed.
“What are you doing?” Fletchere demanded. As a dryad, he tended to be very pride conscious. Prostrating oneself for a cat was clearly outrageous.
“Offering my friendship.” Keddle made pst pst noises, which Calypso elegantly ignored with a slow lift of her chin while trotting past the offered fingers to me.
Approaching me, she came to a halt at my feet. She sat prettily, neatly winding her tail around her feet, and gazed up at me. “Merow?”
I promptly picked her up. My magic instantly hummed through me with a pleasant buzz, throwing off the claws of the curse in its enthusiasm at Calypso’s return to my arms. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at my magic’s response before I settled Calypso against my chest, supported by my left arm. She nestled against my heart as though she belonged there. I ignored the uncanny sensation and focused on my advisors.
Grizzlemunch straightened his shoulders. “I object.”
“To what?” Fletchere asked.
“The cat, of course.” Grizzlemunch sniffed. “One cat is unusual, but two? Outrageous. What will the Unseelies say when they hear our king is keeping multiple cats?”
“They will be profoundly jealous,” Keddle declared. “Cats are such delightful creatures. Surely it is a sign of our king’s nobility that he has attracted two such companions.”
Grizzlemunch snorted. “The sithcat was bad enough. At least that creature was male and magical. That cat is—” He shuddered dramatically. “Ordinary.”
“Far from it,” Ghost muttered.
“What did you say, dragon?” Keddle asked, turning to eye Ghost.
Not willing to discuss my personal choices, I rose from my chair. The trio of fae turned toward me expectantly when Ghost didn’t respond. Ignoring them all, I strode toward my chamber door and began descending the stairs.
The advisors followed, all except for Hubblethin. He engaged one of the gargoyle twins who served as my bodyguards in conversation instead. They were probably discussing the lack of news from the commander.
Neither Calypso nor I had eaten since the night before, and I knew I was hungry. It only made sense she would be too. The best place to find food in the middle of the afternoon was the kitchens. I started out in that direction, the entourage of my advisors following behind.
“I must protest, my king,” Grizzlemunch declared at the sharp turn at the base of the tower stairs.
“You seem to do that frequently,” I observed before striding off down the main corridor toward the front of the castle.
“Sire, must we?” Fletchere protested. “Would not your study suffice as a meeting place?” He paused to gesture toward the west wing where my study was located, but when I didn’t respond except to keep walking, he rushed to catch up. “Surely you don’t wish to discuss our purpose so publicly.”
Servants scattered or moved to the side of the corridor, bowing as we passed.
“You have yet to declare your purpose for disrupting my recovery from the curse’s ordeal.”
Ghost reached the door to the servant stairs before I could and held it open for me. I offered him a nod as I passed and took the steps at a furious pace. Calypso latched her claws into my shirt front and hissed, so I tightened my grip on her. My magic flared with my annoyance, setting off sparks that fell on the wooden steps beneath my heels as I rushed down into the bowels of the castle. Behind me my advisors clamored along with far less care.
“Sire!” Grizzlemunch wheezed as he gained ground behind me. “Surely you see our point. You already have a pet. Adding another is hardly seemly.”
I rolled my eyes and plowed through the door at the base of the stairs. Bursting out into the bustle of the kitchens, I strode through the chaos of the staff preparing the evening meal.
“Always a pleasure, sire,” the undercook said as he moved past me with a big pot of stew. Bread cooled on the sideboard, the air hummed with creation magic, and my irritation calmed slightly.
“A meal or a snack this hour, sire?” the head cook asked from across the room where he was chopping vegetables alongside another undercook.
“A meal, if you please. My new companion and I slept late after a long few days.” I wove through the food preparation to my usual place, the humble table in the corner near the door into the kitchen gardens.
“A companion?” the head cook asked, pausing in his work.
“A cat!” The scullery scrubber, a strapping lad of perhaps twenty, stopped in the middle of the walkway with a massive empty pot in his dripping hands. “His Majesty has a cat, and it’s not that mischievous scamp of a sithcat either.”
Within moments, curious servants surrounded the table all oohing and aahing over Calypso.
“What’s her name?”
“What does she eat?”
The questions came fast and furious as I gazed down at Calypso and debated the risks of setting her down. Unlike in the presence of my councilors, I suspected she would be perfectly safe here. I lowered her onto the tabletop.
“You may call her Callie, but it isn’t her true name,” I informed the fawning audience.
Calypso surveyed the crowd with interest. Sitting prettily again, she began cleaning her paws.
“Is that sanitary?” Fletchere demanded as he pushed his way through the crowd.
“I say!” Grizzlemunch yelled from farther back. “Make way! What is this? A circus? Head cook!”
The head cook met my gaze and rolled his eyes before turning to address the arriving noblemen. “Yes, my lord, how might I be able to assist you?”
“Is this slovenly operation how you run the kitchens? It’s a disgrace!”
Ghost and Keddle arrived just as the head cook began shooing the staff back to their stations and tasks.
“And see that order is maintained,” Grizzlemunch blustered, despite the fact no one was listening to him at all. And he kept on muttering things about the disgrace of servants not knowing their place.
I ignored him, watching Calypso instead. Her ears swiveled and perked as she listened to our surroundings before returning to washing her paws. Wondering how much better her senses were as a cat, I reached out and stroked her back. She paused her grooming to study me. She had no eyebrows, but if she were in her human form, I would’ve been getting an inquisitive look.
“What do you wish to eat?” I asked.
“Merrt?”
Grizzlemunch stiffened as though she had uttered an oath. “Are you actually asking the cat for its opinion? Have you lost your mind?”
“See here, Grizz,” Fletchere protested. “That was too far. Pets and owners have made-up conversations all the time.”
The head cook returned to the group. “Your meal, sire.” He set out a generous portion of chicken, beef, and roasted vegetables. Another servant approached with a gelatin encasing what looked like fruit.
“What is this?” Fletchere demanded.
“They are leftovers from the staff noon meal,” the cook replied. “And something special for the little lady.” He set a saucer of shredded roast chicken in front of Calypso.
A lad appeared at the cook’s elbow with a tray containing glasses, a small bowl of water, and a bottle of wine. The cook took it and distributed the contents, setting the bowl of water before Calypso.
As Ghost reached around me to take a sampling of my food, the head cook bowed. “Is there anything else you wish, sire?”
“No, thank you.” I offered the brownie a smile.
Ghost reached over and sampled a piece of Calypso’s chicken.
“This is too much!” Grizzlemunch exclaimed. “His bodyguard is taste testing the cat’s food!”
Fletchere wrinkled his nose but remained silent.
“If it is an ordinary cat—” Keddle began.
“Our reputation as a fae court is already in question with all of this curse business running rampant,” Grizzlemunch continued as though Keddle hadn’t spoken. “If you had just kept your mouth shut, we wouldn’t have this blotch on our record. And now, with the curse broken—”
“It isn’t,” I pointed out.
“—we have to deal with a new set of idiosyncrasies. Cats being treated like fae, of all things. Nasty creatures.” Grizzlemunch shuddered dramatically as he pressed closer to the table. “If your brother hadn’t sworn to never take the throne—”
A hiss from Calypso was the only warning before there was a loud crash as the pitcher of water and water bowl toppled off the edge of the table, spilling down the front of Grizzlemunch’s expensive clothing.
“Possessed creature!” Grizzlemunch raised his hand to strike Calypso, but I had reached my limit.
“Enough!” I rose to my feet, shoving the table back and frightening Calypso. But unlike a normal cat, Calypso didn’t run for the nearest small hidey hole. Instead, she launched herself at me, clawed her way up my front, and perched on my shoulder, hissing and glaring her indignation at Grizzlemunch.
“My cat and I are no longer available for an audience.” Picking up my plate and Calypso’s saucer, I tapped into my magic, opening a portal to my study. Ghost, accustomed to my impatient habits, stepped through the portal practically on my heels, so when I closed it behind me, the three of us stood alone in my study.
Calypso jumped from my shoulder to the floor and shifted into her human form. She immediately leaned back on her heels and glared up at me. “Why do you let them talk to you like that?”