"I could deny it, of course," Marianne (or was it François?) said over her (his?) shoulder as they all trooped into another, more darkly picturesque, parlour. "Behold the hair, it's a subtly different shade, and the eyes: would you call these violet? I would. That's attention to detail! And how could I possibly have got to my house from his in the time without meeting you on the road?

"Well, you're almost the first to see through me. I never thought to proof my disguises against cats. Sit, sit! ... This is a dead secret, naturally. But it deserves another round of tea at least, though Madame Marianne tends to serve esoteric blends, alcohol at all hours, or pomegranate juice—whatever you'd prefer."

When Toris and Feliks made no immediate response, she rattled on: "And clearly I didn't manage to reassure you or send you on your way to nurturing your hidden talent, Toris, so we shall have to see about that."

Toris and Feliks' mouths hung open.

"Which one are you?" Feliks demanded, "Which are you really?"

"What question to ask a lady! Or a gentleman. As a matter of fact my parents named me Clare. But at present I find Marianne and François much more replete with possibility, and as to which, it varies from day to day."

"Clare!?" Toris exclaimed. "You used to perform at the Fortune! My parent's theatre!"

She stared at him. "Toris. Of course. Now I remember you. Oh how I miss my misspent youth; nothing so misspent as the four years at college however."

"You really don't like the magic college, do you?" Toris asked. "My brothers go there."

"She doesn't mean to disparage. We just have... some philosophical differences, with the magic college," said another voice. Arthur walked into the room. "Hello again." And to Marianne: "I see someone figured you at last, dear."

Marianne nodded, exaggerating melancholy. "You've met Arthur: my husband."

Husband!

"And also her librarian, assistant and whatever else we said."

Just then, the front door bell jangled.

"If you'll excuse me," said Marianne, standing up in a rustle of satin. "I shall try not to keep you waiting for long."

Arthur followed her. Toris suspected he always listened in on guests' first introductions from somewhere out of sight.

They had no difficulty in hearing this guest announce himself, even from the parlour.

A trumpet sounded a brief fanfare, and a shrill voice announced: "Heed now to this most royal and august decree!"

"It's a royal messenger!" Toris whispered, and got up from his seat to follow Arthur.

But Feliks seized his arm, "No don't!"

"But what—?"

The shock had apparently startled Feliks so much he turned back into a cat. He ran off in the other direction and Toris ran after him. What was going on?

Toris found him in a small room like a workshop, and reflected that the insides of both Marianne and François houses bore only passing resemblance to the proportions implied by their exteriors. But he didn't have time to think about that now.

"What was that about?" Toris hissed to the small black cat crouched under a work bench. "Are you on the run from the palace or something?!"

Feliks the cat, of course, said nothing.

Toris opened his pack again and pulled off the merest crumb of spinach and ham pie.

Feliks ate it rather reluctantly.

"Well?"

"No," Feliks said quietly. "I promise it's nothing like that."

"So you can remember something more?"

Feliks looked miserable. "I... I think so. But I'm not sure. I can't say, not yet. I'm sorry, Toris, you're going to have to trust me."

"Alright," said Toris.

"I promise you're not doing anything bad or wrong by helping me."

"Alright," said Toris again. He wasn't sure what else to say.

At that moment, Marianne and Arthur bustled in.

"How did you two get in here?" asked Arthur.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" asked Marianne, but didn't wait for an answer. "Well, we've been summoned to the palace. François and I, that is; the messengers arrived there shortly after you did. They don't know about Arthur, the lucky so and so..."

"Both of you?" asked Feliks, clearly glad for the change of topic. He stood up. "Won't that be... a bit awkward?"

"Ohhh, I expect it will be fine," said Marianne vaguely, and started opening and shutting drawers in the workbench as if looking for something.

"It's a challenge, but it was going to happen someday," Arthur said. "Of course, half the point of this whole arrangement was to avoid royal entanglements. The bitter rivalry you know; both so good that they wouldn't appoint either?"

"That's quite the racket," Feliks said, eyebrows raised. "And the other half?"

"Oh, money!" said Marianne cheerily. "Not that I ever charge anyone double, unless they really aggravate me. Anyway, the point is: we're going to the city first thing tomorrow morning, we can take the enchanted carriage and happy to give you a lift if you stay the night. But right now I'm afraid I find myself unable to play the role of gracious host: we need to be getting on and doing in here, so why don't you two go out mushroom picking?"

"Because there aren't any mushrooms at this time," Toris said automatically.

Marianne smirked. "You'd be surprised."

"Are you trying to get rid of us?" Feliks accused.

"Frankly yes," said Arthur. "Just for a bit. We're going to be throwing around some strong magic and don't want you under our feet. Give us a couple hours, there's good chaps."

"But..." Toris began.

Marianne put down a pair of pliers and coil of wire on the bench-top. "Listen. We've examined you twice now and let me reassure you about this one thing. Although there is nothing much either of can do with this spell, it is not going to get any worse than it is."

"It's not a timed terminal or anything like that," said Arthur, as if this explained matters.

"As to memories, that's tricky. I don't quite understand how you'd lose them in the first place with this sort of curse, so it's a little hard to say, but... It shouldn't get worse. I would say odds are good you will regain them in time."

A minute later, Feliks and Toris found themselves bundled out of the front door with a pair large baskets for mushrooms and instructions to stay away for a good hour at least.

They walked in silence at first. Toris didn't quite dare to press Feliks further about what was bothering him. Feliks was quite capable of turning into a cat again to avoid answering questions.

But there were mushrooms. Scores of them.

"I've never done this before," Feliks said, to Toris' surprise.

"Never?"

"I'm sure of it. Are these safe?"

"Yup!" Toris held up a small mushroom. "Try."

Feliks took it from his fingers straight into his mouth.

Toris felt his face heat up.

"Sorry," Feliks mumbled, with his mouth full and without breaking eye contact. "Cat habits I guess."

They walked on.

"Now these are the ones you have to look out for," Toris said, indicating another clump at the foot of a tree.

"Those are the same," Feliks objected.

"Not at all," said Toris. "Look... Well, never mind, just trust me, alright?"

"Alright," said Feliks.