15. In Which I Discover Our Enemy

I had been sleeping lightly—despite the usually aloof exterior of cats, we really can be quite concerned over the well-being of others, and I was not entirely at ease over Shiara's plight, especially given that she was a fire-witch. A fire-witch, moreover, given to violent tantrums and occupying the room next door.

Anyway, I was rudely awakened by the soft sound of a window creaking open—the window next door, I realized. My keen cat hearing had not completely deserted me yet.

I thought little of the sound at first; after all, Shiara had as much right to enjoy the fresh night air as the rest of us. But what followed made me wonder… I heard someone—Shiara, I assumed—walking around the room, though the tread was heavier than I expected. Even then, being very comfortable on the soft bed, I would have ignored the noise and dozed off again, but what followed left me quite on edge and unable to ignore my curiosity further. I heard cloth ripping, a muttered curse, and the unmistakable sound of someone climbing out the window.

That was when I cautiously jumped off the bed and crept toward the other room to investigate. If Shiara intended to jump out the window, I certainly intended to prevent it. If I could.

It didn't occur to me to wake Morwen; she was soundly asleep, and cats do their sneaking better solo. Besides, in a case like this, time can be precious.

I would guess that Shiara's door was locked. To be honest, I have no idea, not being in possession of the appendages recommended for opening doors. I didn't worry about the door. Ventilation systems are much more convenient in situations like these. Not that I'd ever been in a situation like this before… but I digress.

The shaft that connected Shiara's room to Morwen's and mine was not large, but I am not a large cat. After a couple seconds of crouching I found myself in the fire-witch's room. Her empty room.

I was too late! She must have been more desperate than I'd thought. I rushed to the open window and leapt up onto the sill, expecting to see some horrific sight on the ground below, but what I saw instead was a large, dark figure moving slowly across the grounds away from the Manor.

What relief I felt was quickly overcome by confusion, followed by great concern as I noted that the large figure was actually three—two upright forms carrying a horizontal form between them. Whoever these strangers were, it was unlikely that they were friends, and very likely that their cargo was in fact Shiara.

Realizing that there was little time if I wished to keep the figures in sight, and deeply deploring this fact, I resolved to follow immediately. The fanciful architecture of the Manor made it just possible for an agile cat to make her way to the ground from Shiara's window. I leapt carefully from sill to gutter to gargoyle to roof, my landings often more precarious than I would have liked. There was one distressing moment when the tip of an eagle's beak decided to crumble just as my back foot rested its weight on the narrow stone. After that my pace slowed a bit from nerves, and by the time I reached the ground the group of three was out of sight. Hoping to gain lost time (drat those humans who could use ropes for their midnight climbing), I ran in the direction they had been going when I spotted them from the window, namely, north.

After about fifteen minutes I heard voices. I had just gained the top of a small wooded hill set back from the river, and from there I looked down upon my quarry.

They were arranged around a large, snapping fire, though now there were four of them, three men surrounding an unconscious Shiara. Two were dressed in dark clothes—presumably the two I had seen earlier—and the third sent my heart sinking to my tired toes. Bearded, wearing long robes, and holding tightly to a staff. I should have known a wizard was behind this.

I could tell they were conversing, but I couldn't make out the words, so I crept silently down the hill, fervently grateful for my diminutive stature and soft feet.

I heard the wizard speak first:

"What is this?"

"Jes' whatcher said, guv."

"Third floor, second window on the left, we was told, sir."

"Didn't give us no trouble, neither. Silent as thieves, we was."

"That's 'cos we are thieves. Ain't hard to tell who's got the brains 'round here."

Brains? I wondered. I got the strong impression that the term was being applied rather loosely.

"The second floor, third on the left, you imbeciles! We need the prince! And just what are we supposed to do with her?" The wizard emphasized his words by pounding his staff angrily on the ground.

"Umm... sorry, guv—sir."

"Sorry... I'm guessin' we was misinformationed."

"And now I have to break the news of your incompetence to the master."

One of the thieves snorted, "Glad it ain't me."

The wizard glared at him.

Just then, Shiara slowly opened her eyes, lifted her head slightly, and peered groggily around.

Obviously glad of the distraction, the thief directed the wizard's attention to their captive. "She's awake!"

Thank goodness, I thought, she won't need my help after all. Now she can blast her way past the other three and I can show her the way back to the Manor and we can both go back to bed and stop worrying. One wizard is no match for an angry fire-witch.

The other thief—the taller one, I noticed now—put a cup to Shiara's lips, and she drank greedily until she found herself staring into the eyes of the wizard.

She jerked backwards and tried to scramble away, and that was how she discovered that her hands were tied behind her back. She fell awkwardly but still managed to glare haughtily up at the wizard towering over her, despite her undignified position. I imagine she would have made a rather good cat.

"Who are you? Why am I here?" she spat at him, then muttered, "Wherever here is…" She didn't seem to be quite awake yet; though her words were as fierce as usual, her speech was slightly slurred and almost hesitant, as if she were struggling to put her sentences in order.

"There's been a slight misunderstanding, but I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for a while yet. Can't have you off blabbing to your friends about us."

Shiara sat up slowly and tugged at her bonds. I expected them to come off in a blast of flames, which shouldn't have been a problem for her; since her magic had been released from its restrictive tie to polite behavior, she had had complete control over spells. But nothing happened, and the rope stubbornly continued to encircle her wrists. Her hair wasn't even catching on fire, which was a very bad sign, given how frustrated she was becoming. I was getting rather worried.

"Ah, yes, you have been temporarily relieved of your magic, courtesy of a handy new elixir of ours," the wizard informed her in an infuriatingly polite tone.

"But that's impossible! Fire-witches are immune to enchantment!"

"Not that of another fire-witch. Unfortunately for you, the spell core of the Aquensir has its origins in a fire-witch enchantment; and as you can feel for yourself, the results are quite possible, not to mention effective."

She opened her mouth to argue, but just then one of the thieves spoke. "Beggin' yer pardon, but the Boss is 'ere."

The wizard's head jerked around to peer into the shadows around the camp.

"Well, Teraz, do you have him?" A voice emanated from the darkness, but whoever it was stayed out of the light. Shiara's head tilted toward the voice, and an odd expression came over her face. She seemed to be trying to remember something.

"Uh, sir, that is... well, not exactly—"

"Not exactly?" The voice sharpened dangerously.

"I apologize, sir, but those two," Teraz pointed an accusing finger at the thieves, who winced and looked steadily at the ground, "got the wrong person!"

"Always quick to pass the blame, Teraz, as usual. So who exactly did you get?" The voice solidified into another wizard as he stepped into the firelight and looked down at Shiara with eyes set deep in a horribly scarred face.

"I see..." he whispered. "We may have some use for her after all, if for nothing more than to satisfy my revenge."

Shiara gasped, her eyes widening. Apparently she had finally realized who the wizard was.

"She's been dosed with Aquensir, I hope?"

"Of course, sir."

"If I weren't, you'd have a few more scars by now to add to your collection, Antorell!" She spoke his name with disdain worthy of a cat. "I assure you, I can be quite as dangerous as a demon."

It was then that I realized who this must be. Antorell was the son of the former head wizard and the man who had been pestering first Cimorene, then Daystar, for years. He was never a very good wizard, but under the circumstances I didn't find that too reassuring. It also explained the scars; the last any of us had heard of him was when Daystar had sent him off in the company of a demon. Demons aren't friendly.

Antorell's smirk slid off his face at Shiara's remark. He obviously disliked being reminded of his sojourn with the demons. "So glad to see you remember me," he spat. "I think I'll kill you now."

"But sir!" Teraz gulped as Antorell turned his glare upon him. He spoke hesitantly, "Don't you think we could use her? Possibly in exchange for the prince? If the fairy is right, the others will be eager to have the girl back."

Fairy? Could he mean the Butterfly?

Antorell's eyes narrowed as he considered this proposal. "You may be right... But I will have my revenge, Teraz! No one can keep me from my revenge!"

"Of course, sir. But there will be plenty of time for that if we succeed." Teraz looked extremely relieved that his suggestion was taken so well, and I wondered what made him so afraid of an inept wizard like Antorell.

"We mustn't let the others know we're involved in this, though," Antorell pointed out.

"No, that wouldn't do. We'll send these two, and they'll claim it's a simple case of ransom."

The thieves looked less than thrilled. "Uh, guv, didn'tcha say they 'as a dragon? 'Cos I don't deal with dragons, see—"

"For heaven's sake, we're paying you, aren't we?"

"Right, but—"

"Then stop complaining and do as you're told!"

How long they bickered, I never knew. I didn't stay to listen. Shiara was looking rather dazed and ill, and I had gathered enough information to warn the others of the wizards' plan. There was no sense in trying to help Shiara now, because one cat, even if that cat were considerably braver (and more stupid) than myself, could do little against four grown men, two being wizards. So I headed back to the Manor as quickly as possible.