Celta Cats Page 9

  She had the strongest power. She’d treat him the best.

  You wanted to see Druida CityCenter? he said.

  Yes, please, Baccat, she replied precisely, but her thoughts blurred as if she hid any specific goal from him.

  So he bent his mind for precise images of the broad street opposite and perpendicular to the GuildHall, to a small business teleportation alcove there. He checked the pad and no light showed it was in use.

  Humans count down for teleportation. I shall not do that, so prepare yourself. He gathered his Flair, and a little from her, calculated her height so they’d land well.

  “Wait—” she began.

  But he moved them through space in an instant and they lit without any jolt. Well done. Impressive. He grinned around his whiskers.

  “Oh!” Her breath huffed out and her hold loosened and Baccat discovered some of his fur stuck to her palms. She’d perspired. Slightly disgusting. He leapt from her clasp to outside her weathershield which had also heated uncomfortably. She might be an adult, but as far as he could determine, she didn’t have complete control of all that massive Flair within her.

  This way. He exited the teleportation pad alcove and loped to the boulevard circling CityCenter. Nothing moved on streets or sidewalks this late winter holiday night. He glanced over his shoulder to see her coming, then sat on the elegant but frigid flagstones of the sidewalk, and indicated buildings with his paw. Before us is the new GuildHall, on the curve to the left is the Main Druida City Guardhouse and the official offices of the Botanist’s, Jeweler’s, and Transport Guilds. On the curve to the right are retail shops.

  “Does the GuildHall, ah, contain archives?” she asked, then shook her head, murmured, “As if a cat would know.”

  Of course I know. Baccat emphasized his words with a disdainful sniff. I lived with the professors, Huckleberry, Cantaloupe, and Sievabean for all of my life. He let the weariness mixed with a touch of sadness that filled him again at the memories of his pleasant childhood lace his next words. For the last of their lives, too. They have moved on to the Wheel of Stars. A polite way of saying they died.

  “Oh!” Lori reached down and petted him and he leaned against her trous and purred, making sure he rubbed her legs and marked the fabric with his scent should those other cats sneak and lurk close again.

  He displayed his knowledge in precise tones. The Clerk of the GuildHall records events and items like the maps of the geography of Celta, and holds the official records of all the Guilds of Celta. He slid his gaze to meet hers, answered what he thought she wanted to know. All the records of the Noble Councils are kept there, too. Another rub against her leg. From the very first, after the colonists landed on Celta.

  A quick intake of air from her. “Even the FirstFamily Councils?” She paused slightly and back-ruffled his hair, then smoothed it down. Not a petting procedure he liked.

  Even the FirstFamilies Council. He thought hard, straining his memory. Up to the last and latest. He left it at that, since he didn’t really know when the latest and last would have been.

  A whiff of yearning flickered from her, and he smelled change in her body from anticipation, but also emotion. Which meant they had formed a link between them. Excellent.

  He crooked his tail. I am not sure if GuildHall is open now or if there is a clerk on duty. The flagstones under his paws did not warm much and the cold began to make them ache. I suspect that if You did look at the archives this night after Yule, you would be remembered.

  She shivered, more with anxiety than a chill, he sensed.

  “What...what of a...library?” Her brows came down. “I think something is open to everyone?”

  The PublicLibrary. He gave her the right word for her concept. He undulated his tail to catch her attention and show his pleasure at being with her. He’d noticed human expressions softened to dogs when they thrashed their tails around in such a manner. But he hid his dismay.

  The PublicLibrary, just one street down, had FamCats. Two. Who disliked him, wouldn’t let him inside or even loiter a little on the grounds. Terrible, snotty, snobs.

  The PublicLibrary is across the circle and down a half-block. The library will be open, but it is a sentient building like a FirstFamilies Noble Residence House—

  “I know about intelligent buildings. The Library will note who comes in on a very quiet night just after Yule, too.”

  “Yesss,” Baccat vocalized.

  At that moment, the large doors of the Guardhouse popped open and two guards, a male and female, exited the building.

  Coming off shift, Baccat murmured to Lori. The guards strode the opposite direction, but more marching steps broke the silence. He and Lori turned, a little too late to avoid the guardsmen.

  The guardsmen paused to study them.

  They might remember You, too, Baccat sent to the young woman’s mind, knowing she didn’t want that.

  My weathershield blurs my face a little, she said, but he heard the uncertain note in her voice.

  That is a good trick, he approved, and as he watched the weathershield strengthen. Yes, her features blurred, becoming less refined. Definitely a noble.

  “A girl!” exclaimed an older guard.

  “What do we have here?” The younger man, surely not much older than Lori, asked.

  “Not a good night to be out,” the older one grunted, brows dipping. “Can we escort you home?”

  “I, ah, no—”

  No use for it. Baccat hopped up and down to attract their attention. An adult woman. And I am with her. I will defend her.

  “Cat bodyguard,” the younger one snorted, then narrowed his eyes and rudely pointed at Baccat. “Hey, I know you. You’re one of the feral toms who works with the private investigator, Jer—, Gar—”

  “Garrett Primross,” the older man ended.

  “Yesss,” Baccat said aloud again, then sent to their minds. The clowder who work with Primross are observers and bodyguards. He stood straight, lifted a forepaw and flexed his claws. I can defend her. Even though he hated fighting.

  “Pretty damn big cat,” the younger guard said.

  Bells began to ring throughout the city, marking a new day.

  “Gotta get to work,” the older guard said. “You two take care, and go directly home, now.”

  “We will,” Lori agreed breathlessly in a higher voice. She picked Baccat up.

  With two last hard glances, the guards marched off to the station.

  She held him as she hurried back to the teleportation pad alcove.

  They do not watch, Baccat informed her. He purred outrageously to make her feel good. Then a second of darkness as she teleported them away from the alley and to a different empty courtyard of flagstones surrounded on three sides by low buildings, only one and a half of which appeared in good shape.

  One whiff on his in-caught breath told him they landed in a stables area. He turned at snuffling noises, and saw a couple of stridebeasts looking out the top half of doors. Baccat fluffed his fur a bit to keep his own warmth in at the sight.

  “I don’t know,” Lori said aloud. Doubt pulsed from her. “Perhaps you should stay here in the stables with the stridebeasts. It will be safer.”

  He rotated his ears in offense, but he kept that emotion from radiating to the girl, didn’t even let his muscles stiffen in insult. Baccat had smelled a Residence, an old, old intelligent house that only the best of the best, the richest of the rich had.

  He wanted in.

  I would rather come with You. Desperate measures called for, he turned and licked her cheek.

  But she continued to the door of the block that housed the stridebeasts, then went down the stalls, greeting them with light touches of her mind and affection that also flowed over Baccat.

  She showed him an open door of a clean stall. As he stared at the bedding, a blanket — smelling of stridebeasts — floated down. “This would be a good place for you.” For some reason, her voice lowered. “My Family is...not...generous of spirit.
” Now her tone turned wistful. “Our Yule ‘celebration’ was nothing like the one I observed in the park. Nothing that kind or sharing.”

  Families are often harder to deal with in a ritual circle than strangers, I have heard. He’d paid little mind to his Professors grumblings about Families, but they’d done it enough the sentiments had sunk in.

  “I always thought Families were supposed to be more loving than strangers,” she said, then nibbled her lip. “At least I believe I read that.”

  Baccat snorted. Families are what they are.

  “And mine is not nice, more like mean. I think it best if you stay here.”

  He’d suffered plenty of petty meanness with three aging academic bachelors.

  He sent her much, much, love, purred and murmured telepathically. I will be fine. We will be fine, FamWoman.

  “FamWoman,” she breathed, glanced down the stalls and again he felt her lonely heart. “Someone who will reply when I talk to him. A FamCat. My FamCat.”

  Yes, FamWoman. Let Us go into the Residence and bond better. In a deliberately hesitant voice, he asked, Don’t I belong inside with You?

  She squeezed him tighter. “Yes.”

  I belong with My FamWoman. Inside with My FamWoman.

  On her bed.

  "Get him! Get the nasty cat!" a woman's voice shrieked, yanking Baccat from a catnap that had deepened into foggy sleep. Surely he hadn’t been asleep long. Hard to think.

  The burst of full light in the bedroom blinded him.

  "I'll kill him!" a man gloated.

  That sent fear through Baccat’s every nerve. He tried to breathe deeply but stuff stopped up his nose. He opened his mouth, curled his tongue, tasted...sweat of evil beings.

  “No, cousins!” Lori jerked up beside Baccat. “No, Vi! No Zus!” Her voice sounded weak, too. Baccat could hear the rapid pumping of her heart. Her fingers twitched as she reached for him just on the next pillow, but didn’t move more than a couple of centimeters.

  Uh-oh.

  He contemplated his paws under him, raised to them, fell over as paws — and eyes — crossed. His tongue protruded from his muzzle.

  This was bad.

  “Stop!” whispered Lori, then sent a thought to Baccat, Gas! We’ve been gassed and drugged.

  Bad! He could not sweat, and if he panted, he might take more of the drug in. These people appeared much like Lori’s, no more than two years older than she. Cousins, she’d said. Yes. Alike, brother and sister, twins. With faces contorted in vicious expressions. Weak chins... greedy eyes.

  Baccat had been in bad spots before, seen death on human faces coming to him before.

  Lori tried to roll toward him, defend him? Got tangled in the sheets.

  "I'll take care of him." Zus, the male, moved quicker now.

  "You know the rules we live by, puny little girl!" Vi shrilled. Pointing a finger at Baccat, Vi continued, "No animals inside. Our Residence doesn't like them!"

  Inconceivable that a Residence would dislike a Fam. Baccat’s mind scrambled. His brain sent urgent alarm throughout him. Move!

  "He's not a cat he's an intelligent animal companion, a Fam!" Lori’s voice yet sounded whispery, but intense.

  Vi snorted. "You lie."

  "I don't, and the Residence, who monitors me, knows I don't! Residence, I want my Fam!" Lori demanded. "Surely you've had Fams before."

  "It's been a very long time," the Residence answered querulously.

  "But Familiar animal companions are important and should be treated like members of the Family," Lori insisted.

  Baccat lay dredging energy and Flair from the very cells of his body. To move. To survive.

  "I do not like the small mobile animal inside my walls. Not at all."

  "Best to just get rid of it." Zus smiled with glee in his eyes. A smack against his palm signaled that he'd translocated a knife. It gleamed nastily in the bright light flooding the bedroom.

  “No!” Lori flung off the covers, surged toward Zus.

  Moving too slowly.

  As was Baccat. But he gathered himself. Soon, soon.... He would NOT die now he found a good FamWoman.

  The man sheathed the knife, smiled with glee in his eyes. “We’ll take care of you first, leave more time to have fun with the cat.” He snapped his fingers and opened his hand and dull and ugly cuffs lit there, translocated from somewhere else.

  “Get her! Hold her!” he snarled at the woman who looked too much like him, down to the nasty expressions on their faces. The woman, Vi, lunged at Lori and missed, Lori side-stepping agilely, Vi trundling around, not graceful for all her slenderness.

  But the bad man cuz, Zus, did a short teleporting hop, grabbed Lori’s arm, hard enough that bruises bloomed, and snapped one cuff on her.

  Immediately the bright glow of her Flair magic power dimmed.

  All Baccat’s fur raised straight up at the sight! The cuffs stopped her from using her magic. Depress Flair bracelets. Terrible! He’d only seen such evil things in the university museum.

  Fury poured through him, finally, finally, energizing him.

  His Lori had done nothing to merit this.

  With a yowl he forgot he hated fighting. That fighting someone larger always brought pain. He Flair-leapt at Zus and Lori, caught claws in the shirt covering the man’s upper chest, ripped at silkeen cloth and human skin. Matched Zus’ pained shriek with Baccat’s own battle yowl.

  Red runnels showed through sliced shirt. Baccat freed his claws, gaged his next move, hopped lightly to Lori’s up flung arm and hit just right! Hit the lock of the cuff and broke the innards with his Flair power.

  “Get the cat, Residence! Find him with inner wind! KILL HIM!” Zus ordered.

  The room creaked around them.

  Pale white and panting, Lori grabbed Baccat. He curled into her, making himself smaller, and she teleported them away.

  Once more they lit in the middle of the stable courtyard. This time the door to the main stable block wrenched open — Lori’s Flair — and they strode through it into the dimness of stalls, the clean smell of fresh straw and the radiating love of the animals.

  She loosened her grasp and Baccat leapt to a wooden bench and stared at her. Her whole body trembled with suppressed anger and Flair. He saw the emotions but didn’t feel them. No, she penned them up inside her so as not to scare her animals.

  Remarkable.

  She looked at him with a strained expression. “You have seen my Family. You will never be allowed in the Residence, even as my FamCat. If you wish to remain my FamCat. Do you? Do you stay here with me or go?” she asked tightly.

  He made his eyes big and round. Saw the flash of pain in hers. As if she thought he’d go.

  That she acknowledged the choice was his, pleased him. And she needed him. Needed him more than anyone had in his whole life. More than his old, best professor who only threw him scraps and thought of him as a pet.

  Stay or go? Her telepathic voice sounded cool, but she held herself stiffly, and he felt hurt behind.

  Her nasty Family had hurt her, and she had no one to sympathize. No intelligent friends, animals or humans.

  He felt a little small.

  He would not be of the highest class of Cats. Despite her title as the leader of a FirstFamily, she did not hold the true power.

  But he’d be loved. He could feel that huge warmth in her generous heart. He’d be a true Fam Companion, as he realized he’d never been.

  She loved him like no other human had. Would bond with him as no one else had.

  Even if he slept in stables smelling of stridebeasts and ate scraps instead of sleeping on a pillow in a Residence and munching the finest furrabeast, the bond between himself and Lori surged and flowed with love.

  Love was better than status.

  Stay, he said, and stretched out to lick her hand.

  = The End =

  Zanth Saves The Day

  Dedication: To Shawna Lanne, my Facebook friend, for her help in brainstorming this sto
ry. Thanks!

  I wrote this story as part of promotion for the Coastal Magic Convention of February, 2018, then I decided I wanted another Zanth story in this collection…so I’ll have to write another for Coastal Magic.

  Beach of T’Ash’s New Southern Estate, Celta, 424 Years After Colonization, Summer

  “Help me!” A teeny, tiny voice struck FamCat Zanth’s sharp ears in an accented language of Familiar companions. He twitched and rolled over in the deep bed of sweet-smelling beach herb.

  “Help me!”

  “I’m lost!” whimpered an even higher voice. It echoed in Zanth’s mind as much as his ears.

  He wished his FamWoman Danith hadn’t cleaned his ears the night before. She’d removed the sand from his first explorations of the beach yesterday, and a lot of old wax, too.

  Two more new voices sounded against the background of “Help,” and “I’m lost.”

  “I must get to the ocean,” cried the third voice.

  “The ocean! It will save and feed,” squeaked a fourth.

  A short pause of silence and Zanth breathed in the fine scent of summer and sand, stretched a little in the nice heat of the sun.

  Then all of the little beings screeched at once, both aloud and mentally, “I am scared, I am scared, I am scared, I am scared…”

  He couldn’t sleep through that. Opening an eye, he looked around, saw nothing.

  The chant, and the feeling of fear, increased in nasty uncomfortable waves making him ruffle his black-and-white fur, rise to his paws, look around. He saw sand and sea oats and grasses and bushes and his patch of herb. In the distance rolled the big gray water, threatening. It had crept up more of the beach than felt comfortable.

  Some sand fell off him and he shook himself, making sure the sand didn’t dust his black fur or dim his white parts. He whipped his black tail to flick granules away. Swept one of his white forepaws over his whiskers, removing stuff, slurped up a last sticky herb leaf.

  Salt rimmed his nostrils and snapped to lay on his tongue when he opened his mouth to use his smell-taste sense.