Chapter 19 #2
She heard a few gasps of awe from the gathered scholars.
Not of outrage—no, they were simply impressed that she’d had the audacity to keep a forbidden pet and then admit it to Professor Hapscombe’s face.
Truthfully, her past self would have been rather impressed as well.
Clearly her travels had made her braver.
“That,” Professor Hapscombe barked, “is not a cat.”
Oh no.
Surely he’d never seen a storm cat before.
Surely he hadn’t realized that the adorable ball of fuzz in her arms was actually a deadly shapeshifter.
Because if he had…
Ryn froze, mouth open, words momentarily fleeing as the road before her divided into two distinct paths.
Two choices.
Two different versions of herself and her future.
If Professor Hapscombe knew what she held, then this might not be a catastrophe, but a gift. Her chance to tell them everything about where she’d been, as well as what she’d learned.
Night elves, for example, could only take one shape, whereas Xavi could take many.
So if she could show them Xavi’s extraordinary abilities, they would have to believe her.
If she could provide proof of all her theories in the form of this creature out of legend, then they could no longer deny that legends were a valuable resource worth further study.
A creature out of legend.
But was that truly all Xavi was to her?
At first, that had certainly been the case. Xaviel ven Arazul was an immortal warrior from a long-vanished civilization. A shapeshifter of many forms—a story brought to life.
And she’d treated him that way. As if he were no more real than a character on the pages of a book.
But as she clutched the kitten to her chest and stared blindly at the faces of her former professors, she knew for a fact that somehow, at some point, that had changed. She didn’t even know when.
Was it the moment he’d stopped her from going through that door alone?
The moment he’d destroyed the viper before it could harm her?
Or when he’d told her his own story? Not the version from folklore, but the truth.
Reminding her that he, too, had once been a child, dreaming of a different life than this one.
That he, too, had experienced pain, devastation, and loss.
He was so much more real to her now that she knew his story, and wasn’t that, in the end, the greatest proof of all her most cherished beliefs about the value of myths and legends?
Stories had power. The power to forge a connection and create understanding despite differences and distance. And now that she had experienced this truth for herself, she found—to her immense surprise and dismay—that she needed no one else’s validation.
Least of all Professor Hapscombe’s.
“It is a rare breed of cat from Eddris,” she said defiantly, squeezing the kitten so tightly that he started to squirm once more. “Bred to hunt… weasels. And chicken hawks. They use them to defend their henhouses.”
Somewhere on the inside, she cringed, because what sort of ninny would use a cat to protect chickens?
But thankfully, Professor Hapscombe knew even less about chickens than he did about people, which was saying something.
“Don’t tell me you’re also keeping chickens on these hallowed grounds of education?” he sputtered.
“No, of course not,” Ryn said innocently.
“I only brought it from home so that I would feel less lonely.” Inspiration struck, and she apologized silently to the kitchen staff before adding, “And then I left it behind because Mildred in the kitchens was having so many issues with rats in the storerooms. But I’m leaving Viali now and could not imagine my life without my precious fluff, so I have returned to fetch him. ”
The kitten’s claws flexed suddenly, and Ryn winced. If Xavi could understand that much Abreian, she would definitely pay for the “precious fluff” comment. And probably for the weasels as well.
“Anyway, I’m very sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you and promise never to darken your doorstep again. Goodbye!”
“Did you say… rats?”
But the words could only bounce harmlessly off her back, as Ryn was already in motion, heading towards the front gates. Scurrying, really, in the most undignified way, but there were claws in her arm, and honestly it was a miracle that no one had questioned her story.
This was their best opportunity to escape, but… where could she go?
They emerged from the front gate a few moments later, onto a bustling street with traffic moving in both directions—pedestrians, wagons, horses, and handcarts, all on their way to somewhere important.
But even in this enormous, teeming city, Ryn had no real friendships.
No one she could turn to for shelter, and so long as they remained in the open, Xavi could not shift back to his true form without causing a riot.
Also, those claws were incredibly sharp and painful.
“All right,” she hissed, “I’m sorry for calling you a fluff, but it’s your own fault for turning into something so ridiculously adorable.
” The claws abruptly withdrew. “Now please just behave yourself until I can get us somewhere safe. I’m begging you.
No one here is prepared for shapeshifters or night elves, let alone…
you. And honestly, I don’t think I’ll be much protection if a mob comes after you. ”
The cat twisted in her arms, looking her dead in the eye with unmistakable disdain.
“Yes, I know very well that you can defend yourself, but as I said before, not without some pretty awful consequences. And…”
She paused for a moment, but knew the words needed to be said, so she just blurted them out.
“I’m sorry for what I said before. I don’t think you would want to murder anyone.
I know you’re not actually that kind of person, and the truth is, I don’t want you to have to be.
Not to defend me. Not when there’s a chance we can get out of this without any further burdens on your soul. ”
The kitten froze. Went utterly limp, then wriggled out of her arms and disappeared.
Only to reappear beside her, not as a cat, or a wyvern, or even a night elf.
But as a man.