Chapter 2 #2
“And we’ll do as you paid us to do, so long as you agree to head south with us in the morning. You didn’t pay us to die for you, princess.”
“You knew the risks,” she reminded him fiercely. “I told you where I intended to go, and you took my money without question. Changing your mind now is… it’s betraying your word. It’s unjust and… well, it’s wrong!”
The cat cocked its head in agreement. He didn’t often agree with humans, but she was right on this point. Foolish beyond measure, to come this far into night elf lands on the cusp of winter, but right.
“Call it what you like,” the mercenary leader said flatly. “But out here your money doesn’t make the rules—I do. And there are five of us and one of you, so there’s nothing you can do about it.”
A bully, then. The cat hissed softly but made no other move. He was still curious.
What would she do now, this peculiar female?
She looked from one man to the next, as if hoping even a single one might take her side, but none of them would meet her eyes except for the leader.
Defeat seemed inevitable. And yet, she did not collapse in tears or remonstrations.
Did not wail, or throw things, or become distraught.
Instead, her shoulders squared and her lips thinned, as if all that fiery rage had somehow been contained and locked away within that slender, unprepossessing frame.
“Fine,” she said quietly. “We’ll discuss it again in the morning. Maybe we can reach a compromise when we’re all less exhausted.”
She took one last look around the circle before letting out a frustrated sigh and vanishing into a small tent about a dozen steps from the fire. For a few minutes, fabric rustled unobtrusively from within the tent as she readied herself for sleep, and then… silence, followed by a light snore.
A good sleeper, apparently. Even when surrounded by enemies in a hostile land, which made her either eminently practical or entirely foolish, either of which would serve Xavi’s purposes.
For a few moments, he heard no sounds but the light rasp of her breathing and the crackling of the fire, until the men around it began to stir.
“Scholars,” one of them sneered, as if it were the most despicable profession he could imagine. “They’ve got no notion of the world outside their books. Should have never taken her money.”
“Well, how was I to know she’d be this hellsbent tenacious?
” their leader protested. “She looked like just another silly rich girl who wanted to go on an adventure. Easy money. I wagered she’d quit before a week was up, and then we’d be able to spend our winter in comfort.
Never imagined she’d make it this far into these cursed night woods.
Not with those ridiculous skirts and ink-stained fingers.
Didn’t look like she’d ever set foot outside of a library in her life. ”
Clearly, they’d underestimated her, and Xavi made a mental note not to do the same.
“At least now she’s willing to see reason,” one of them grunted.
Xavi almost laughed. She hadn’t given up—it was a strategic retreat.
“Are you mad?” the leader retorted. “She’s going to try to negotiate. Or wear us down with begging and tears.”
The whole lot of them shuddered and groaned. Willing to face monsters for money, but subject them to the smallest of female emotions and they resorted to abject cowardice.
The five men around the fire abruptly fell silent as they exchanged meaningful looks. The leader pointed to the tent, then made a series of bizarre hand gestures, which were met by nods of agreement, as if taking a vote.
When it was finished, all of them rose to their feet.
“Best turn in,” one of them said loudly. “I’ll take first watch.”
The five of them then moved silently about the camp, gathering their gear and readying their packs. One paused long enough to add a log to the fire, and then, without a single word of farewell, they simply walked away into the night, one after the other.
Leaving behind a defenseless human woman, fast asleep in her tent, surrounded by miles upon miles of wilderness filled with monsters.
Well, that was an interesting development.
The cat sat up and hissed softly as it regarded the empty camp with strangely warring emotions.
A part of him itched to chase down the spineless human mercenaries and terrify them with the very monsters they feared. Renders, truld, wild aranthas… There were so many options, and he’d worn their faces many times before.
But no. As satisfying as that would be, he would not waste this opportunity he’d been granted. The woman would awaken, alone and terrified, far from anything safe or familiar.
It would be the perfect time to strike a bargain.
Kel seemed to have fallen into torpor again, so Xavi passed a quiet night beneath the trees, still in cat shape, listening to the sound of the human woman breathing in her sleep.
She cried out once or twice, but he could not make out the words, and otherwise she seemed to sleep both deeply and well.
As the glimmer of daybreak lightened the sky, Xavi abandoned his hiding spot and moved towards the ashes of the fire, padding slowly on his enormous paws.
His sense of anticipation quickened as he heard the woman begin to stir, but he made no sound—only perched on a nearby boulder, waiting with the patience of a practiced hunter.
After some rustling and a few quiet curses, the tent flap lifted, and his quarry emerged into the pale dawn light, giving him his first true glimpse of the woman who would be the next bride.
Her hair was down—a strangely mesmerizing waterfall of silken gold—and there was a brush in her hand. For a moment she stretched, winced as her spine cracked, and then began running the brush through the tangled waves that hid her face from view.
The brush caught on a snarl, and as she tugged it free, the waves of hair parted, and her eyes finally landed on Xavi.
She froze, and for a moment the two of them regarded one another with unmistakable curiosity.
She was not tall, even for a human, and she certainly looked unlikely for an adventurer.
Her form was slender, her carriage upright, and her gaze direct.
Those gray eyes seemed to pierce him through and through, and he half expected her to scream or sob with fear.
Humans often did at the sight of a cat the size of a small horse.
But this one only let out a slight gasp before her eyes brightened with wonder and delight.
“Oh,” she breathed. “A storm cat! You’re so beautiful. I can’t even… Pictures simply don’t do you justice, do they?”
What in all the blighted lands of night…
Then her hair dropped over her face again, and she cursed under her breath as she pulled it back with one hand while patting her pockets with the other.
“Dratted hair ties. Never around when you want one.”
The search of her pockets apparently turned up nothing of use, so she let out an aggrieved sigh, gathered the entire length of her hair into a tail, and began to twist. When it appeared to form a knot at the base of her neck, she reached down, picked up a stick from the ground, and jabbed it through the knot.
To Xavi’s amused surprise, it worked.
“Prefer a pen, but I suppose a stick will have to do. Now then, where are Blink and the others? I’d hate for them to see you and try to…”
She stopped speaking abruptly, as if she’d only just realized something important. Her gaze darted around the clearing, narrowed as it paused on the cold remains of the fire and the empty spaces where beds and gear ought to have been, then lifted to search the trees.
Xavi had never seen a human who wore her thoughts so plainly on her face. All intelligence and no guile. But she knew what to look for and took only a few moments to reach the proper conclusions.
“Those wretched sons of motherless goats,” she burst out, and Xavi couldn’t help it. He let out a very un-catlike bark of laughter, which immediately drew the human’s attention.
“Oh,” she said, in a very different tone than any she’d used before. “Oh!”
Clearly, the game was up, so Xavi rose to his feet and stalked towards her, moving slowly and silently until he was close enough to touch.
His head came nearly to her shoulder, but she neither flinched nor cried out, only regarded him with bright, curious gray eyes before speaking not in the language of Abreian humans, but in a mangled yet recognizable version of the night elf dialect.
“You’re not actually a cat, are you?”