Chapter 22 #2
“Might we make off with the basket? I feel it might be better to take something they’re familiar with.
” I got up, went to the kittens, and began the process of offering my hand to the little girls.
Much like Citrine had done when meeting Erik, I became swarmed in furry bodies, and Garnet and Citrine joined in.
As I rarely received attention from Erik’s precious baby, I took care to make certain each kitten got a fair share of my love, cooing to them while offering pettings and scratches behind their ears.
Like our carbunclo, the Yule cat kittens adored ear scratches, and they tended to melt into fluffy puddles of happiness.
“What are their names?” I asked.
“Yule cats are not named until they go to their permanent home, so you will enjoy the naming of them. We call them cari gatta for the female kittens and cari gatto for the male kittens. In English, that would be beloved or darling cat.” The archbishop pulled out his phone, dialed a number, waited a moment, and then said, “All of the kittens are being placed, so I will replace your basket with a new one, as Miss Ramons wishes for the kittens to have things they are comfortable with and know. Please pack all their belongings and bring it to the front gates so we can simplify their departure.” Once Archbishop Kellan hung up, he dialed another number.
“We are prepared to wire the funds to Miss Ramons. Everything has checked out. The litter of Yule cats will be accompanying them; the boy will be going with the older Ramonses, and the hatchlings will be taking all the girls. Please prepare full care packages for both families. They will also need a list of capable veterinarians in the Dragon Heights, Wyoming, area. Thank you.”
Garnet mewed at me, and I took the time to comfort my carbunclo.
“Your new friends will be coming home with us, so don’t worry.
You’ll be able to play with them whenever you want.
Once you’re a little older, you’ll even be able to stay at home with them when we go out if you don’t want to accompany us. ”
Squeaking her excitement, she wiggled among the Yule cat kittens and did her best to groom them all at once.
Judging from Erik’s expression, the mess of fluffy bodies was the cutest thing he’d beheld in his entire life, and he ran a risk of perishing as a result.
Pulling out the phone my mother had given me, I located one of the investment accounts I could wire money into and out of, retrieved the relevant information, and handed the device over.
“I’m going to use this account for my charitable work, so if you can deposit the funds here, that would be ideal. ”
Archbishop Kellan took the phone, read over the details, and nodded. “This institution works with us, so we can have a confirmation of sent funds within the next ten minutes, and they’ll be accessible to you within the hour. It takes that long for the red tape to be conquered.”
Cursed red tape. “I was honestly expecting a week with the transaction rules in the United States.”
He grinned at me. “It helps that we have the various governments involved with this transaction type on speed dial.”
I laughed. “If only the rest of life were as efficient.”
“If only,” he agreed. “We should be finished with this business within an hour, and after that, I will show you all the wonders of Vatican City, we shall partake of the evening meal, and we would be pleased to offer our prayers and blessings for the rest of your journey. Should you be amendable for it, we would be pleased to welcome you to a service of celebration so that the Yule cats may depart knowing they are a beloved part of our faith.”
I glanced at Erik, who smiled and said, “We’d be honored to attend.”
“Just make certain someone coaches us on when we can and cannot participate in the ceremony,” my mother requested. “I know just enough about your faith to understand there are parts we cannot join.”
“We shall do so, but as the young ones have already partaken from the cup with grace, they may join in all our rituals and be welcome.” With a raised brow, Archbishop Kellan placed his hand on the box containing the Holy Grail and met my mother’s gaze.
“If you care to prove your heart, you might attempt to sip from the cup. We would, of course, be forced to register your spirit should you do so.”
My father burst into laughter. “He’s won that round. It might do our little hatchling some good to have a true view of our natures.”
“Disgustingly pure but postures to hide it,” I muttered.
My mother heaved a sigh, the kind that warned me she would find some way to get her revenge at a later time. “I accept your test for what it is, and I will do as you ask. But if I end up throwing up on your shoes, you only have yourself to blame. I know the potency of that cup.”
“Yet you allowed your daughter to drink,” the archbishop teased.
“As if I could actually stop her once she gets an idea into that pretty head of hers,” my mother complained.
With reverent hands, Archbishop Kellan retrieved the Holy Grail. “The Water of Life, if you please?”
My father got up and went to retrieve the jar filled with the girl’s water. “I trust the Pope Richard is aware of what you do?”
“I have been given his blessing for this upon notifying him. If it makes you feel any better about the situation, I shall also sip from the cup.”
I wondered what would happen to Archbishop Kellan if the cup and its sacred fluid rejected him. “Isn’t that problematic for you?”
He offered a smile, albeit a grim one. “You are an insightful one. Yes, this is a confirmation of my faith as much as it is a test of you and yours. How our stomachs fare will set the course for the future, that much is certain. The rest we will find out soon enough.”
I took the jar from my father, taking the time to peer at the crystal clear fluid. “Is this water, from those like the Sumerian girl, the source of the Fountain of Youth myths?”
“They are,” the archbishop confirmed. “Every legend and myth is born from a grain of truth. The Fountain of Youth is not something offering an individual eternal life, but the promise of there always being life-giving waters where it is needed the most. And that is why your determination to see her returned to her rightful place is so important. To my knowledge, she is the last to have made such a sacrifice with so pure a spirit. Chelsey?”
“Yes, she is the most recent to have made the sacrifice as far as I’m aware, and the others are protected as my daughter wishes to protect her,” my mother replied.
Archbishop Kellan opened the box, lifted out the Holy Grail, and offered it to me.
“As the current owner of the cup, the honor of the first sip goes to you. As the one making the acquisition on behalf of Pope Richard, the honor of the final sip goes to me. I recommend that you give the cup to your father, then your father gives it to your mother, and then your mother offers it to your partner before it makes its way to me. That will signify their blessing of your union with him.”
I accepted the Holy Grail, took care with pouring the sacred water into the chalice, and waited for the cup to glow. Somehow, the golden radiance seemed brighter and bearing a stronger warmth than it had before, as though it rejoiced in the knowledge it had found its way home.
I lifted the vessel in a salute to all that had been and all that would be, braced myself for the fires of the potent brew, and drank.
* * *
Approximately 13,500 BCE
The Edge of the Laurentide Ice Sheet
Montana
I wondered if Krikolios knew he had chosen to return to the ice a short distance from what would soon become Marmariatta’s final resting place.
Much like her mate, Marmariatta’s scales shimmered and shifted in every color, but she bore more fire-bright hues than he had.
She regarded me with a dark eye lit with flame.
“I hear your song,” she greeted in a voice wavering from age and exhaustion. “It is not safe for you here. I soon return to the flame.”
Somehow, deep within my bones, I understood I had nothing to fear from her death. “I would accompany you to the end if you will have me,” I replied, relaxing in the knowledge she, like Krikolios, would understand my intent even if over ten thousand years of language barriers came between us.
For a while, she considered me, and then she nodded. “As you wish, little one. It is my time, but I suppose I need not make this final journey alone. It only pains me that my mate will not share this blessing.”
“He will,” I promised her, and the relief of the truth I spoke eased something within me.
Her eyes brightened, and the glow of flames strengthened.
I understood why she worried for my fate, as once her fire devoured her from the inside, it would erupt with destructive force. It would not defeat the ice that would one day envelop her mate, but for a time, it would leave its mark.
“You are confident. Have your whispers confirmed this to be so?”
I wondered what telling her would change—if it would change anything. “When your mate passes in his time and the ice claims him, I will be there for him as I am here for you.”
“Such a kind little one. What brings you through the whisperways?”
“I have a question only you can answer,” I confessed. In truth, I had many questions, but one rose above the rest in importance.
“Need does make traversing the whisperways easier,” she confirmed, and she graced me with a draconic grin. “Ask your question.”
“To ask the question, I must tell you a story.” Hoping she wouldn’t think poorly of me or believe I was as insane as Madam Merorie, I told her of the future and the Sumerian girl who would one day use her claw to bring salvation to an imperiled city.
“Can your claw truly give such a thing true permanency?”