A Princess of Landover (17 page)

Edgewood Dirk blinked. “All you need to do is gather your belongings, wake your companions, and follow me. No one will see us. No one will stop us. By morning, we will be far away.”

“Far away,” she repeated, liking the sound of it. Then the rest of what he had said caught up with her. “Wait a minute. Did you say I should wake my companions? Those Gnomes? I don’t want them coming with me! I didn’t want them coming with me in the first place!”

“Well, we don’t always get what we want in life,” said Edgewood Dirk.

“Well, they’re not coming with me, Dirk, so you can just forget about me not getting what I want in this case!” She glared at him. “Is that all right with you?”

“Perfectly all right,” he answered, his cat voice as calm as still waters. “Of course, leaving them behind means that when the River Master finds you gone, he will have to find someone to blame, and those two unfortunate G’home Gnomes might turn out to be his first choice.”

She stared at him, speechless.

“Not that this should matter to you, of course,” he added.

She knew he was right, and she hated it. She sighed wearily. “All right then, they can come.”

“If you are quite certain it is all right, Princess?”

She ignored him, finding him increasingly annoying and suspecting that he would become more so as they traveled. She looked around guardedly. “We just walk right out of here, do we? Right through my grandfather’s guards and all the once-fairy who live in the swamps? You know the way out and won’t get us lost?”

The cat stared at her, saying nothing.

“Do you mind telling me where we are going?” she pressed.

The cat did not answer.

She put her hands on her hips and bent closer. “Why won’t you answer me?” she demanded.

A small noise from behind caused her to straighten up and turn around. Poggwydd was standing there with Shoopdiesel peering over his shoulder, both of them looking bewildered. “Why are you talking to that cat?” the former asked hesitantly. “You know cats can’t talk, don’t you, Princess?”

He gave the cat an interested look. “But some of them are rather good to eat. Do you suppose this one belongs to anyone?”

Shoopdiesel licked his lips and looked eager.

H
er belongings gathered and her mind made up, Mistaya set off through the fairy-born city of Elderew with Edgewood Dirk leading the way and a reluctant Poggwydd and Shoopdiesel bringing up the rear. Neither understood what was happening, and Poggwydd, on behalf of both, had complained loudly about it on being informed. As a result, she had expressly forbidden either G’home Gnome from speaking one single, solitary word until she gave them permission, threatening that if they did not do as she said she would leave them behind to face her grandfather’s wrath when he discovered she was missing. Frustrated and out of sorts, they trailed along like restless
children, shuffling and snuffling and generally acting as if they had an itch they couldn’t scratch. She never looked back at them, and Dirk never looked back at her. In this fashion, single-file and keeping their distance from one another, they passed without notice into the deep woods.

Mistaya couldn’t have told anyone why she was doing this. It made almost no sense to trust the cat, even if you got past the part where you accepted that it wasn’t all that strange that a cat could talk. This was Landover, after all, and all sorts of things talked that didn’t do so in other worlds. The dragon Strabo was a prime example; his vocabulary was both extraordinary and colorful. Not that there were a whole lot of other dragons to compare him with, but that didn’t refute her point about creatures that talked. She had grown up in Landover, so a talking animal didn’t surprise her, even if it would have shocked the girls of Carrington.

But
trusting
a talking cat—now, that was something else. Cats were not the most reliable of creatures, talking or not. They were independent and self-centered, prissy and devious, and she had no reason to think that this one was any different. Yet here she was, trailing along behind him, ready to believe that he not only knew the way out of Elderew but could actually get clear of the city without being detected. No one else could do this, so why did she think he could?

She guessed it was because she wanted so badly to escape the fate that awaited her if she stayed around until morning. Being sent back to her father would be the ultimate humiliation, and her embarrassment at her grandfather’s rejection was quite enough already. Better that she take her chances out on her own than be stymied even in this small gesture of defiance. Better that she trust a talking cat with dubious motives than sit around and do nothing.

She kept silent until they were out of the city and wending their way back through the swamp and quicksand before she tried speaking to him again. She was aware that the Gnomes were listening in, so she kept her voice at a whisper until she grew frustrated and
voiced her questions more loudly. But it didn’t matter. Dirk ignored her, acting as if he hadn’t heard, further convincing Poggwydd and Shoopdiesel that she was suffering from a delusion regarding the abilities of cats.

In the end, she gave it up, and they walked on through the night. By sunrise, they were clear of the woods and had emerged into a broad stretch of grasslands and hill country east, facing into the rising sun.

At this point, Edgewood Dirk came to a stop. Sitting back on his haunches with his tail curled about him, he began to clean himself—an undertaking both meticulous and seemingly endless.

Mistaya couldn’t help herself. She had endured enough. “Look here,” she said to the cat. “You did well in helping us escape the fairy-born. But now you have to tell us where we are going.”

Dirk, predictably, said nothing.

“Stop pretending you can’t speak!” she said. “I know you can!”

She glanced over her shoulder at the G’home Gnomes, who were shifting their gazes from her to each other and back again. “Princess, I don’t think the cat can—” Poggwydd began.

“Be quiet!” she snapped at him. “I know what I’m doing!”

“But, Princess, cats don’t—”

“Did I give you permission to speak?” she demanded, wheeling back on him. “Did I?”

Poggwydd shook his head dejectedly.

“What did I say I would do with you if you did?”

“Leave us behind. But we’re safely away now. No one can hear us out here. Besides, you’re talking, aren’t you?”

She glared at him. “Just don’t say anything, all right?”

“But what are we doing out here, following that stupid cat?” he whined miserably. “Cats don’t know anything and aren’t good for anything except to eat!”

She pointed a finger at him in warning and turned back to Dirk, who had finished cleaning himself and was now staring at her rather accusingly.

“Well, what do you expect me to say?” she demanded.

He continued to stare at her, and she could tell just by the nature of the look what he was thinking. “Oh, all right,” she said. She sighed and turned back to the Gnomes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I’m just frustrated by everything.”

And suddenly it occurred to her that perhaps the cat wouldn’t speak to her unless they were alone. Hadn’t that been the way things had worked last night? “Poggwydd, would you and Shoopdiesel wait for me over there by the trees?” She gestured toward where she wanted them to go. “Just for a few minutes.”

The G’home Gnomes trooped off obediently, and she knelt down in front of the cat rather like a humble supplicant. “Now will you speak to me? Please?”

“Since you ask so nicely,” said the cat, “I will do so. But not in front of anyone else. You would do well to remember that in the future. That way we won’t have to go through this charade again.”

“Believe me, I’ll remember.”

“Excellent. Now then, what is it that you want to talk about?”

She took a deep, steadying breath, submerging her lingering thoughts of strangling him. “Where is it that we’re going?”

He cocked his head. “That would be up to you. I promised to take you safely away from Elderew and your grandfather, and I did. I assumed you had a plan. If so, now is the time to implement it.”

“Well, I don’t have a plan!” she snapped. “I just need to go somewhere my father can’t find me while I think this thing through! Mostly, I need to get out of the open!”

She was frustrated and angry by now, suddenly afraid that Edgewood Dirk had taken her from the frying pan into the fire. Dirk, on the other hand, seemed unconcerned.

“Princess,” he said quietly. “While you are with me, no one can find you by use of magic. Because I am a fairy creature, I am able to shield those who travel with me. Your father can look for you until next winter, and he will not be able to find you while you are with me unless he comes looking for you himself.”

She stared at him. “Are you sure?”

“Cats are always sure. Look at me. I seem an ordinary cat at first glance—though of a particularly lovely sort. But I am much more. I am a Prism Cat, Princess. We possess special magic and are of a unique character.”

She frowned, not knowing whether he was serious or not. “I don’t think I understand. Can you explain?”

“I can, but I don’t choose to. Another time, perhaps. Now, back to the plan you don’t have. Where is it that you want to go?”

She sighed. “Somewhere I won’t be found, whether you are with me or not. How’s that?”

“Poorly conceived and expressed. You will be found quickly, if you are not with me. Which means, you must encourage me to come with you by showing some modicum of intelligence in making your choice of where you might go. Otherwise, I am wasting my time on you.”

“What do you mean by that?” she demanded indignantly. “Why do I have to encourage you?”

“Because, Princess, I am not here by chance and I am not bound to stay. I chose to help you in the same way I chose to help your father and your mother. But I need a reason to stay. Cats are curious creatures, you might have heard. But if we lose our curiosity about something, we tend to move on to other, more interesting things. At the moment, I am curious about you. But that could change if you don’t find ways to keep me interested.”

She sat back on her heels, seething. “I have to keep
you
interested in
me
?”

“You do. How do you plan to do that?”

“The pleasure of my company isn’t enough for you?”

“Please be serious.”

“I have other friends, you know,” she declared. “I have lots of other friends, and they would all be happy to help me.”

“You have two G’home Gnomes, and neither has the least idea what to do about your situation. You have no one else. You don’t even have your mud puppy anymore, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

She stared at him in disbelief, and then after looking around quickly began calling for Haltwhistle. But the mud puppy did not appear.

“Where is he?” she demanded, a bit frantic.

“I sent him home to the Earth Mother,” said the cat. “It wasn’t difficult. You forgot to speak his name, so he would have left anyway.”

He was right. She hadn’t spoken Haltwhistle’s name at all yesterday, and she knew what that meant. If she failed to speak the mud puppy’s name at least once each day, he would leave and go back to wherever he had come from. She didn’t even know where that was because she had never thought about it. She had always been careful to say his name so that she wouldn’t have to worry. But last night, absorbed in her own troubles, she had forgotten.

“Well, I can find him again,” she declared bravely.

“Not before your father finds you.” Dirk’s remonstrance was maddeningly calm. “Now tell me where it is that you are going.”

“I don’t know,” she said miserably.

“Somewhere you won’t be found …,” he nudged.

“Why won’t you just stay with me? Then it wouldn’t matter where I went. Why won’t you do that?”

Edgewood Dirk licked his chops and closed his eyes. “I know myself too well to make a promise I cannot keep. My nature requires that I be interested in your actions. For that to happen, you have to make interesting choices. Now think. Where could you go that would interest me?”

She shook her head helplessly.

“Put it another way. Where is the last place your father would think to look? Because sooner or later he will give up on talismans and wizards and come looking for you himself.” Dirk paused. “Or perhaps he will send someone in his place, someone more effective at finding what is hidden. Perhaps he will send the Paladin looking for you.”

Mistaya froze. She knew about the Paladin, of course, even though she had never seen him. Everyone knew about the Paladin. They whispered
of it when they thought she couldn’t hear, and Questor Thews had talked of it quite openly. They were all proud of its service to the throne, but they were also quite afraid of it: huge and dark of purpose, all armored and armed astride its charger. There had never been anything in memory that had been able to stand against the Paladin.

The last thing she wanted was something as implacable as that searching for her.

“Think, Princess,” the cat pressed. “Where will your father look last for you?”