Tarichar sat on Silence's bedspread, ears pricked. Silence's breathing was ragged and she gasped, crying out in her sleep. The cat purred and walked over to Silence, laying in the pool of starlight on the young woman's chest.
Suddenly, the light was dimmed, but not eliminated. Tarichar looked up to see an elderly female cat, dusty golden brown, ragged and well past he prime. The moonlight was gleaming right through her, and her green eyes shone like two tiny stars.
"Tarichar, Tarichar Melcharlendora." Beside the old cat jumped up a cat like a condensed patch of night-black. He languidly leapt down, his golden eyes fixed on Silence's face.
"Fear not, Melcharlendora. She will awaken." Tarichar jumped. How did these two cats, these two ghosts, know her Heart-name! Had they been Sent by Tren the Snowdancer and Cat Goddess and Rechtel the Shadowpaw and Cat God! Or were they lost spirits, looking for a cat to beguile? Or were they the Shadowpaw and Snowdancer Themselves? Tarichar was frightened; such spiritual guiders had never approached her. Nor cat-demons. The female cat padded over to her, and Tarichar felt the fur on the back of her neck and along her back raise and her tail puff up.
"Do not worry, Melcharlendora," the female, who was not as white as the new-fallen snow as the tales told Snowdancer Tren to be, padded over, the black cat, as black as the tales of Shadowpaw Rechtel, following. The female approached cautiously, as if Tarichar would pull back, revolted. When Tarichar remained where she was, guarding Silence against anything, be it natural or supernatural, the elderly ghost-cat began to wash the fur around Tarichar's eyes. The black cat looked at Silence, and then placed a paw over the young woman's heart.
The motherly feeling of the female ghost-cat washing her face made Tarichar loose some of the fear that the two ghost-cats would harm Silence. Slowly, Tarichar drifted off to sleep, her mind in her memory of the times before she had been badly abused and her mother killed. The thrumming purr of the female ghost-cat lulled her into a very deep sleep.
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Tren looked at her mate.
"She needs to live. This human is the last chance for the Ancient Two-Leggers to live again. There is a massive war on the way, one that has been fought before. Did you see the Stoor-human?"
"The one like that five-hundred-year-old two-legger? How could I not? He revels in the deep places of the world, and he is tiring. Soon the Scarlet Shadow-Angel will come, with his Golden Bauble, and destroy the world. It is time for beasts and humans, at least these humans, the last remnant of the Ancient Two-Leggers, to work together. Nahar and Telperiel will teach their descendants how to speak the human tongues. So must we."
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Slowly the sensation left Tarichar, and the cat awoke. She was in a patch of sun, Ian standing near Silence's bed, and then he sat down and stroked a lock of hair from Silence's face. He drew back slightly as Tarichar got up and stretched, yawning and displaying her formidable teeth and claws. Ian looked about to get up and leave when Tarichar pounced on his thighs, getting him to sit down and go about three or four shades paler than beeswax, most likely from fear of her sharp claws. She began to purr, and then curled up, pushing her head insistently under Ian's hand until he began to pet her.
Oddly enough, Tarichar was not mindlessly worried and taking the worry out on Ben, who screamed like an obscene cross between a dying screech owl and a newborn human child, but was happy. She leapt to Silence and began to lick her face, while Ian was holding her hand.
Say you'll share with me, one love, one lifetime,
Lead me save me from my solitude,
Say you'll want me with you here beside you,
Anywhere you go let me go too,
Silence, that's all I ask of—"Who the Hell are you!" Silence roared into wakefulness. Tarichar yowled and scrambled off of the bed. Ian jumped backwards, knocking over the chair and getting caught in its legs as Silence's fist sought his cheek and found it, loosening a tooth and knocking out another. He ran out to find a sink to spit the blood into, then hung over it, his eyes tearing and his vision sparkling from the pain. A roar was in his ears, and he clutched the sink for support.
'Who ever knew someone knocking out a tooth would be that painful?' He thought, his thoughts muzzy.
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Shaw had been walking down the hallway, trying hard to think straight. Mariah Gaya, a Bardéd woman who had helped Silence become as comfortable as possible in her comatose state, had become a dear friend to the group, save Ben, Abigail (Who was having nasty mood swings worse than Tarichar's) and Riley. Now Shaw was sure he had a crush on her.
Technically she was not Bardréd, but Éothédfola, the Rohirric branch of the culture, and thus related to him very distantly, if at all.
"Who the Hell are you!" Silence cried. Apparently she was awake.
Crack!
Tarichar came streaking out and leapt into Shaw's arms. Ian came running out and into the bathroom. Shaw rushed into the bathroom in time to see Ian spit a tooth and a mouthful of blood into the sink.
"What happened?" Shaw asked, putting Tarichar down. She immediately began to purr as she wound about Ian's ankles. "How the Hell did you get a tooth knocked out!" Shaw cried.
"Silence woke up," Ian mumbled, fumbling for his handkerchief. Shaw stared at Ian before taking the fabric from him.
"Stay here, do not move, and make sure that the blood drips into the sink." Shaw walked out of the room, pounded down the halls to the healers. 'One of my friend's teeth was knocked out. I need some powdered geranium root and quite a bit of the willow bark potion.' He got what he needed and ran down the halls again, grabbing a cup of lukewarm water on his way back.
"How long do I have to stay like this?" Ian asked, frustrated. Shaw knew he would have moved from his place had he not been in so much pain, or afraid of staining the ancient and beautifully worked stone hallways of the palace.
"Rinse your mouth out with this." Ian did so, wincing. "Hold your mouth open. Wider, Ian. I can't do anything for you without you holding your damned mouth wide!" Ian gaped, and Shaw inspected the hole. "All Bardréd are given the healing classes. Don't wince." He sprinkled geranium root on the wound then soaked the cloth in the willow bark potion, before packing the cloth in the hole where Ian's tooth had been.
"Gaak! Ahh! Urgh! That stuff's horrible!" Ian protested. Shaw had had his fair share of injuries as a child, and knew how bad the concoction tasted. He poured Ian a cup of the highly bitter liquid.
"Here, drink, and don't complain." Ina stared at the medicine, his jaw so purple it was almost black and his cheek swelling. "If you're good, I'll practice with you. If not, I'll send you to Bladesmaster Helkaorë, known as Iceheart." Ian scowled, but drank the vile concoction, gagging and almost retching.
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Tarichar trotted out of the room, intent on finding something to eat.
"Why did she clobber him?" she asked herself. "It accomplished nothing and he did nothing to her. Besides, Silence chose him as her mate. It would make sense for her not to do that!" A foot came down on her tail. By the smell, it was Riley's. She decided to pay him back for something he had done to Ian about three weeks after Silence fell into her coma, about five days ago.
FLASHBACKRiley stepped in the room and looked at Silence, who was still and looking lifeless. Tarichar was near her, sitting on the bed and looking at Riley. Then Ian stepped in. He brushed past Riley in order to get to Silence, and stroked her cheek gently.
Tarichar knew that something was going to happen. Riley's face grew red. He rushed over and yanked Ian out of the chair by the back of his shirt as Ben and Shaw stepped into the room. Riley's fist collided with Ian's stomach, and the older man doubled over in pain. Tarichar yowled and leapt for his face, missed as Riley stumbled back, and Ian grabbed his shirt. Riley punched him again, completely out of control. The dark-haired man was in a jealous rage. In order to save himself, Ian punched Riley in the nose, not hard enough to kill him, but hard enough to break it and to render Riley unconscious. The younger man fell to the ground, and Ian swooped Tarichar up before the cat could do any serious damage to the young man.
END FLASHBACKShe yowled, unsheathing her claws, and latched herself to his leg. A high-pitched squeal, like a mad pig, preceded a hand clobbering her on the back. She was hungry, and didn't want mouse or bird, and remembered her mother's words.
"Melcharlendora, my kitten, attack here if someone is trying to hurt you again. Usually they will leave you alone after that." Tarichar latched herself to the shown spot, and was nearly deafened by the loud screech, like an insane banshee, emitted from her prey.
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Three days later, Riley was packing his bags. He wanted nothing more with this treasure hunt, especially if that damn cat was going to come along. Ben had scars from the murderous animal, and now he wasn't sure if he could have children because of the damn animal. Besides that, Ben had asked him not to stalk his sister. What was wrong with looking at Silence? Then there was Shaw. The man flat out scared him. He was going back to the states, and forget all about treasures. This treasure had cost too much, Patrick's life, and potentially the lives of Riley's future children. Not to mention how bad Ian and him got along now. He looked one last time at the brown and gold cat with black streaks. She was looking murderously at him from Ian's arms. When he looked at her, she hissed in what he was sure was rage and murderous intent, and he left at a run, his feet headed in the direction of the highway that would take him to the airport and thus the United States.