Journeyman Cat

by Virginia Ripple

  The old mage smiled, remembering the investigation six years ago into Master Hecktor Ribaldy’s alleged treason and Victor’s disappearance. It was a good day when the High Council formed the Office of Kingdom Guardianship and put the procedures to recognize handwriting and magical signature fraud into place. He was glad to see those measures continued to be an integral part of daily practices.

  “So what does that leave?” Clarence asked with a frown.

  “It’s possible someone captured Therese and Ophelia and forced them to write that report, but to what end?”

  “Precisely. Why falsify a report like this? What could possibly be gained?”

  “And by whom?” asked David.

  “The most likely suspect is the high temple priest. He stands to gain quite a bit of money if this passes.”

  “Not to mention power. Have you met him?”

  “Only at the first session when he addressed the council with his suggestion. He seemed genuine at the time.”

  David grunted and leaned back in his chair. “How many power hungry people do you know of that don’t seem genuine when they’re trying to get you to do something for them, at least in the beginning.”

  “You have a point.”

  Clarence thought about Master Chivato. The gray tom had always seemed interested in working with the high council even when his brother had been turned down for a seat on it. Now everyone knew he had been biding his time, waiting to unleash the plague and grab the power his brother had failed to obtain.

  “Still,” said Clarence, “we can’t exactly accuse such a highly esteemed personage of treachery based on a single report that just doesn’t sound like the person you know.”

  “Too true. He’d claim she found religion or something and that’s why she sounds so cheery.”

  David smirked. Clarence returned his smile. Although he’d known of at least one individual whose life had changed by becoming a Follower, that individual still sounded the same.

  “I know we can’t accuse anyone of wrongdoing at this point, but perhaps there is something we could do,” Clarence said.

  “What would you suggest?”

  “I have a young friend, a journeyman in the OKG, in fact, who has been pestering the head temple cat at this same temple for a couple weeks now.”

  “I think I know who you’re talking about. That orange tom and his partner are always into something, it seems,” said David with a grin. Clarence nodded and smiled back.

  “Anyway, they’ve been doing something of an investigation already based on some things they heard from an interviewee, things that their supervisor has told them are of no consequence.”

  “I know that guy, too. Never thought he should have been promoted to supervisor. No instincts and a bona fide cat hater,” David said with a frown. “So what you’re suggesting is I give them a friendly wave and send them over to the temple to see what they can turn up, is that it?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I’ll have to think about it. While I like the idea of tweaking Gillespie’s nose, I’m not sure how to go about it. Maybe —”

  Someone pounded on the door, interrupting what he was about to say. David frowned and circled his finger in the air. Clarence peered around his chair to see his personal aide. He frowned as he took in her creased knee-length robe and cockeyed bun. Little ringlets of escaped hair clung to her blotched face.

  “Oh thank the One!” she said, rushing into the room. “I thought I’d never find you.”

  “What is it, Yedidah?”

  The young woman choked on a sob. She roughly wiped a hand over her eyes, then crossed her arms to clench her sleeves into her balled up fists.

  “It’s Master Adele. She…”

  Her face crumpled, her hands flying up to cover it. Clarence jumped from his chair and gently ushered the girl to the seat beside him. His heart trip-hammered in his chest as he tried to calm his aide. He knew he should have kept his promise.

  “It’s okay. Take a few deep breaths and calm yourself.”

  The young woman did as he told her, her breaths coming in little gasps rather than the calming ones suggested. She stared at the floor, balling her fists up on her lap as she visibly tried to gain control of her emotions.

  “Your - housekeeper - called,” she hiccuped. Taking another little gasp, she hurried on, “She found Master Adele murdered in her room.”

  The young woman disintegrated into sobs again. Clarence sank back in his chair, staring into space. Adele? Murdered? It couldn’t be. She was a master cat. They’d seen to it that she could defend herself both magically and artificially.

  The sound of movement brought him back to his surroundings. He turned his head toward his friend. It felt like a metal ball on a wooden spindle, a contraption Master Sylvester had created. David was holding a glass of water out to each of them. Clarence reached out a numb hand and grabbed the cool glass. His friend slouched back on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms.

  “Yedidah, did the housekeeper tell you when she found Master Adele?” he asked.

  “Th - this - mor - morning.”

  “And did she say anything about what she saw?”

  The young woman nodded, her cockeyed bun bouncing. Her face began to crumple again, tears running down her cheeks.

  “Pull yourself together, girl,” snapped David. She took a huge breath and looked up at the guardian. His eyes softened as he leaned forward, placing a hand on his knee.

  “I know this is hard for you, but I need details. The more you can tell me the easier it will be for us to find out who did this and get the mud sucker.”

  The aide nodded and softly exhaled as she looked down at her clenched fists. “She said the cottage was a mess when she arrived. Tables busted, fire burns on the rugs in the receiving room. She thought Master Adele had thrown a tantrum, though that wasn’t like her. When she went back to check on her, she saw the door off its hinges and papers strewn about. That’s when she saw her.”

  The young woman held her breath for a moment and closed her eyes. When she opened them again they shined with unshed tears, but she had composed herself again.

  “She was lying on her side, an arrow sticking out of her chest,” she turned her tear-stained face toward Clarence. “It was from the crossbow.”

  The image of the little device popped into his mind, his imagination filling in the scene. He had gifted that thing to his dear friend for protection and it had been turned against her. Clarence didn’t know whether to hate himself or the intruder more. David shifted position, recalling the old mage’s attention.

  “Anything else?”

  “She said there was a page from one of Master Adele’s Books of the One stuffed in her mouth,” the woman said, turning her gaze back him.

  “Which page?”

  “She didn’t fetch it out to see.” The young woman turned her eyes back on Clarence. “She said she thought you might want to see the scene for yourself, so she called your office and left a message with me. She said she was going to just lock the cottage up and leave everything as she found it.”

  “Your housekeeper sounds like a sturdy woman, Clarence.”

  The old mage turned his contraption head toward his friend and nodded. David flashed him a sympathetic smile and rose from the desk’s edge. He walked over to where his cape hung, snatched it from the hook and flung it over his shoulders. He tossed another into Clarence’s lap.

  “Let’s go see what we can do to nail us a murderer.”

  Clarence unlocked the door and stepped aside, allowing David to enter the cottage first. The guardian swept his gaze over the room from the doorway, then took a step inside, motioning Clarence to follow.

  “Stand right there,” he ordered, pointing to a spot just inside the door. “Tell me exactly wh
at’s out of place.”

  Despite knowing David had used an incantation to seal the site before they had left the OKG, it surprised Clarence at how little seemed disturbed. The way Yedidah had described it, he was expecting the entire room to be in shambles.

  “That table,” he said, pointing to the left at a pile of broken wood. He scanned toward the right and found the singed rug his aide had mentioned. He pointed to it.

  “And that rug. Nothing else seems to have been moved in here.”

  David nodded and slipped on a pair of gloves. Clarence raised an eyebrow when his friend glanced at him.

  “Precaution. We’ve run into a few cases where handling items at a scene has had some nasty after effects. Also keeps our magical signatures from accidentally tainting whatever we find.”

  The guardian cautiously approached the smashed table. He bent down close, spreading his hands as if measuring the debris. His eyes traced a path up the wall from the table. He turned to stare at the burned rug several feet away. He paced off the distance between the two bits of destruction, placing one foot directly in front of the other. He bent down to study the rug, then cast another glance toward the table and wall. He looked up at Clarence, a small smile on his lips.

  “Looks like someone used a fireball and then that someone was tossed against that wall and fell on the table, smashing it.”

  “Adele?”

  David shook his head. “I’d say your intruder got more than he bargained for. Your little lady put up a fight from the start.”

  The man stood up and motioned for the mage to follow him down the hall. Clarence clenched his fists behind his back and steadied his breathing, knowing what they would find. David held up a hand as they approached the unhinged door. He bent to inspect the floor, rubbing a finger through some dark goo and bringing it to his nose to smell it. He turned and held out his finger to show Clarence.

  “Blood.”

  “Whose?” asked Clarence, almost choking on the word.

  “Given what we’ve been told and the distance from the interior of the room. It looks like Adele got off a shot with the crossbow and winged the intruder. I won’t know more about whose blood it is until I can take it in for analysis.”

  “You can’t do the incantation to find out now?”

  David shook his head again. “I could, but that’s against protocol. Things have changed since you and Toby investigated Chivato’s crimes. If I don’t do things by the rules, then I get written up and all evidence is labeled tainted and destroyed.”

  Clarence could feel the heat rising to his face as his anger mounted. His best friend lay dead in that room and he was being told if they didn’t follow some arbitrary regulations her killer would be allowed to remain free? David rose and placed a firm hand on the mage’s shoulder, looking him in the eyes.

  “I want him, too. That’s why I’m playing by the rules.”

  The old mage took a deep breath and tried to relax. His friend was right. This wasn’t so different from when he cautioned Toby against accusing Hielberg nobles of dragon willow trafficking six years earlier. Running ahead of the game was to lose the game. He would not lose this one. He nodded and the guardian turned back toward the room that had been Adele’s family nest. The man gazed around the room, blocking Clarence’s view.

  “Are you sure you want to see this?” he asked over his shoulder.

  The mage placed his hand on his friend’s arm and nudged him out of the way. A lump the size of his fist sprung up in his throat as his gaze landed on the regal black queen laying like a rag doll tossed away by a child. He wanted to rip the cross bolt from her chest and cradle her like she would never allow him to do when she was alive. Instead he remained where he was. Playing by the rules. David’s hand came up to pat his.

  “Why don’t you sit in that chair over there while I run over this?”

  Clarence mutely obeyed, carefully stepping over the loose papers strewn across the floor. At first he stared at her broken form, then he had to turn away. He gazed out the window, listening to his friend’s light footsteps scuff across the floor, the occasional crinkle of paper. He let his mind go numb. A gentle touch on his shoulder and the rattle of paper brought his attention back into the room.

  “Do you know anything about this?”

  The mage stared down at the paper. He reached out to take it, then remembered what David had said about evidence being tainted by the slightest touch. He bent over to read the paper. It was a page from one of Adele’s copies of the Books of the One. A single verse had been underlined in dark red. Clarence tried not to think what had been used to highlight it.

  “It’s from the Book of Moriel. A Follower of the One drew his sword to protect the Beloved, cutting off the ear of a guard trying to arrest his Lord. The Beloved rebuked the Follower, telling him to put the sword away because those who draw their swords shall die by them as well.”

  “Does it mean anything to you?”

  Clarence shook his head. He couldn’t think just now. David stood straighter, raising the paper closer to his face.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say someone thought Adele was nosing into their business and he wanted to put a stop to it. Were either of you doing any new research? Anything that might tick someone off?”

  The mage shook his head again. The only thing either one of them had been doing was attending council sessions, except when he stole away to play with the master artificer’s toys. The fog in his mind began to roll away as he concentrated on the various council sessions they’d attended.

  “There’s been the debate over closing down the public schools and shifting all the students into the temple schools. Adele and I were the ones who suggested the partners be sent to find out if the suggestion was even viable. But surely the high temple priest wouldn’t have sent an assassin over that,” he said, frowning and stroking his beard.

  “I doubt it was the high temple priest. However, you might be onto something.”

  Clarence looked up at his friend.

  “We both thought Therese’s report was off, remember?”

  Clarence’s frown deepened. “And Toby had been asking the head temple cat of that same school a lot of questions.”

  David nodded. “I think we’re on the same page now. Someone wants something covered up at that school and they’re willing to kill to do it.”

  The mage’s eyes widened as his thoughts zipped to Toby. “We have to warn Toby to stay away from this.”

  “Do you think that will work? Listen, Clarence,” said David, shaking his head, “you and I both know that cat has more curiosity than any feline has a right to. He’s also as stubborn as his mother and father combined. Telling him to leave this alone will be like throwing raw meat in front of a horde of fire ants. It’ll just make him come on stronger.”

  The mage sighed and rubbed his fingers over his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. His friend was right. Adele had already tried to warn him and it had done no good. When he found out someone had killed his mother as a means to make him stop his investigations, it would drive him harder. He was no Brother cat who had learned the art of forgiveness. Clarence looked up at David, receiving a look of compassion and strength.

  “In that case, perhaps we should do our best to get him ready for this mission.”

  The cold from the ground seeped into Toby’s hindquarters and he welcomed it as friend. The Brother’s words faded into just another background sound as the young tom stared at the little wooden coffin, remembering his last conversation with his mother. He’d intended to be a better son after Master O’dorn had cured her from the plague. He’d planned to call her more often and not have every conversation end in another argument. Sure, he’d made the obligational holiday visits and weekend mirror calls, but that seemed so little now. He felt a hand gently laid on his shoulder and looked up to see Lorn,
a sad smile on his lips. Toby blinked and returned his gaze to the coffin.

  The Brother had said amen. It was time for his mother to be placed in the ground. A procession of humans and cats walked slowly by, tossing a flower or other memento into the hole, then murmuring some inane apologies for his loss. They were all just so much background noise.

  He’d failed her. They had tried to make it impossible for anyone to hurt her ever again and failed. No one even said what the intruder had wanted. Why had he come into their home and killed her? Why her? If they had lived in the Lower Districts it would make sense, but she’d done nothing since the plague to draw attention to herself. She’d been just one more warm body on the High Council.

  Not true, his mind whispered. Their last conversation came back in stark relief. Her fear had been palpable even through the mirror. She held secrets. Secrets to die for? Toby felt warm fur brush against his side. He turned to see a massive black tom sitting next to him, startling him out of his numbness.

  “Father?”

  A pair of piercing green eyes turned toward him, slicing to his core. This was not Victor. It was Councilman Damon’s partner, the cat he’d met once just before capturing Chivato during the academy’s spring festival. An involuntary shiver ran the length of the young tom’s body. He glanced around. Everyone was gone, already across the cemetery, heading toward the carriages. He looked back at the black tom.

  “She was a very special queen,” he said, his voice rumbling like distant thunder as he nodded toward the open grave.

  The grave diggers were slowly walking toward them, but they, too, were half-way across the cemetery. The young cat nodded, trying to inch away. The black tom’s head swung his way, his narrowed gaze pinning Toby in place.

  “Has anyone said who would have done this?”

  “N-n-no,” the orange tom stuttered, his heart pounding. The cold air stabbed at his eyes and nose, seeming to want to be the black cat’s minions. The large tom stared at him in silence, his tail shifting dead leaves as it tapped out a rhythm. He looked away, toward the oncoming grave diggers, then back at Toby.