7. Pippi #2
I laughed and snuggled more firmly against him.
“When you arrive at the lobby, each of you will be handed a brochure with information about the island,” the cat carried on, raising his voice above the whispers and giggles.
“I’d advise that you take the time to look through it.
You’ll find a map of the isle, as well as a list of all activities and tours. ”
“He is so stinking cute, ” Melany cooed.
The cat’s tail twitched again as his eyes rolled over us. “It is always a delight to see the joy and wonder my greeting leaves upon travelers,” he said, in a flat voice that sounded anything but delighted.
“Do you think he’ll let me pet him?” Melany asked.
The cat’s ears flattened, as though he’d heard her query. And he turned, fixing her with a severe stare that said, very clearly, “pet at your own risk.”
“I think that’s a no .” Melany’s partner chuckled. “You’ll just have to wait ‘til we get home and give our fluffballs extra pets.”
“Now…” the cat spoke around a jaw-cracking yawn.
“I’m certain you are all hungry and weary and longing for your rooms. But I would like to offer a word of caution before we proceed.
Niverwick Isle is home to many beasts, and I will emphasize that word— home.
This is their home. You are their guests, and we expect guests to behave accordingly.
There will be no touching of any of Niverwick’s beasts.
There will be no disturbances to their lives, or disruptions of their feeding.
You may observe , you may not interfere . Is this in any way unclear?”
Melany blew out a disappointed breath.
I turned and flashed her a sympathetic smile.
“I do wish to assure you,” the cat continued, raising his voice over the babbling, “that none of these beasts will cause you harm. We all coexist peacefully with our guests.”
As long as our guests coexist peacefully with us. He didn’t say that last part, but it was so heavily implied in his haughty stare that I heard it clear as day in my head.
“The walk to the lobby is short enough and easy to traverse,” the cat carried on. “The walk to your lodging may be close, or may be far, but transportation will be available to you should you wish it.”
“Ooh, bicycles?” I whispered to Jackson. “Do you think?”
“I suppose,” he sighed.
“I’ll cart you around, don’t worry!”
Jackson couldn’t ride a bike. But I loved going for bike rides, especially in fair weather—although maybe not weather as sticky as what the island was becoming.
I hadn’t noticed the heat, at first, coming off the ship where the air had been so cold. The warmth had snuck up on me, but my jacket was starting to feel like a sauna.
As I wriggled out of Jackson’s arms, getting ready to shrug the jacket off, the cat pulled a coinkydink and mentioned the weather.
“Due to the magic coursing through the Isle, the air is often quite humid,” he droned.
“Unfortunately, there will be no central cooling systems in any of the buildings—we do apologize for that inconvenience—but we’ve been assured by previous guests that the heat is not intolerable. ”
“Better the heat than the cold,” Jackson said.
I slipped my jacket all the way off, spot checking my blouse for any wayward puke stains.
Thankfully, the blue-and-white checker material was in the clear—thank goodness.
I adored this blouse, with its billowy sleeves and poofy shoulder pads.
Lots of people said shoulder pads looked dated or silly.
I had to agree to disagree with them. Because I flipping loved what they did to my profile—making me look proud and tall.
Taller than my five feet, three inch frame, at least.
“Lovely blouse,” Melany said.
I beamed over my shoulder at her. “Thank you!” I knew there was a reason I’d liked her.
“Now then”—the cat meandered to the front of the group, holding his tiger-striped tail as high as it would go—“with those unpleasantries out of the way, allow me to extend the warmest of welcomes to Niverwick Isle. May your stay be extraordinary. Follow me! And stay close, please. The fog can be dense and disorienting when you’re not acclimated to it.
But if you do fear yourself lost, do not hesitate to call out. You’ll find my hearing is quite sharp.”
There was a lot of scuffling and chattering as the group followed him into the mist.
“We’ve got a bloody cat for a tour guide. What a world. What. A. World.”
“I’m never looking at a cat the same way again.”
“… will I ever remember?”
I stopped dead in my tracks as that voice snaked through my ears again. The same one I’d heard on the ship.
“Babe?” Jackson tugged on my arm.
“ …more words. Lost. Always lost .”
That voice had an…accent. A delightful one to boot. It sounded British—a high brow sort of British, though. The sort that belonged more on the royals than on the common folk.
But it was also…familiar. I’d never heard it before. Ever. But my heart bounced in my chest as though it was a dear and long-lost friend speaking to me.
I peered behind me, watching the shifting current of faces as people lurched by, hastening to stay with the rest of the group. I saw no one I recognized. No one. But that voice.
“Pippi!” Jackson gave my arm a sharper tug. “C’mon. What are you doing?”
“I…” I swiped my sweaty palm over my jacket, making sure the sleeves were secured in their knot around my waist. “Thought I saw someone I knew.”
Jackson’s brow rose. “I doubt that.”
“Right. Yeah. Because we’re the riffraff slumming it with the royals, right?”
I had no idea where that came from. The comment and the snark. Both had just burst out of me.
Jackson’s head whipped as though I’d slapped him. “Babe…”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, leaning up to peck his cheek. “I’m just…a little cranky right now. And a lot woozy. I need a nap.”
He nodded. “Me too.” He stroked a hand along my back, giving my rump a playful squeeze, before he took my arm again. “Almost there.”
“ Lost… ”
My heart clenched as the voice echoed in my ear again.
“All. Lost.”