Journeyman Cat

by Virginia Ripple

  The she-cat stared at him with narrowed eyes, her tail lashing. The gray tom steadied his breathing and tucked his tail out of sight.

  “I swear the mage did all the magic.” Almost.

  Janelle continued to stare at him a moment more, then relaxed and licked her ruff. She looked back at him and sighed.

  “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to find out if they need more paws. But never mention you worked with a mage.”

  “No problem.”

  They trotted off toward the remedy making room. The closer they got, the more familiar the smells were. The smells brought back pleasant memories of working with the master mage on various mixtures to aid his customers. Those had been pleasant days, though when the plague had hit, the stress of creating the cure had been more than he thought he could bear. The she-cat scratched at the door and he forced the memories aside as they waited.

  The door quietly swung open revealing a narrow-faced yellow and white patched tabby tom. The room behind him resembled a cave. Cool, dry air wafted over the gray tom, who drew in a breath. He catalogued all the familiar herbal smells quickly. The patched tabby narrowed his eyes at them.

  “What is it?”

  Janelle bowed her head, nudging Tobias with her tail to do the same.

  “We are here to ask if the Anointed Ones require another set of paws to aid in mixing remedies for our hospital.”

  The tom stared at them. “No.”

  He turned to walk away, the door beginning to swing shut behind him.

  “I have training,” said Tobias.

  The door stood still. The gray tom could feel the heat of the she-cat’s embarrassment radiating from her. The patched tabby tom looked over his shoulder at them.

  “And what training could an orphan have?”

  Orphan? How did he know? In an instant a few things clicked into place. The boy Lars had found hadn’t asked to be sent back to his parents, but he did want to stay away from the school. The humans here were orphans. It made sense, then, that everyone here would assume he was an orphan as well, since he had arrived with Lowrance. Tobias licked his lips and tightly wrapped his tail around his paws.

  “I trained with a master herbalist during the plague. He set me to work preparing herbs and memorizing recipes to recite to other healers. I know most of the plant names and their properties and can recite dozens of known remedies.”

  “Is that so?” asked the patched tabby, pacing around him. He sat in front of the gray tom, leaning forward so his nose was a paw length away. “Tell me, then, what would you prepare for a pain in the head?”

  “An infusion tea of willow bark if the pain is mild. If the pain is severe, it may require willow bark paste and possible bleeding.”

  “What if the patient is a child and refuses to eat the paste?”

  “Add a pinch of peppermint and a thimble of honey. If the child is truly reticent, it may require the herbalist to hold his nose until he opens his mouth and tying a strap around his chin to hold the mouth closed until the remedy has been ingested.”

  The tom’s eyes widened. “That seems rather harsh, don’t you think?”

  Tobias straightened himself as tall as he could manage.

  “Which would be crueler, to force the patient to take a needed remedy or allow the pain to continue unabated?”

  The patched tabby’s whiskers splayed and he sat back. “This is true. It seems you have been trained. The question now is, why are you here?”

  The young tom curled his tail tighter and shrugged.

  “I am on a journey to find my calling in life. New Life Temple seemed the best place to find it. I have heard it is a place of learning, a place led by a master who can change our very existence.”

  “Indeed it is, youngling,” said the patched tabby, his tail thumping a steady rhythm on the floor. He turned his gaze on the she-cat.

  “You may leave —” the cat said, looking back at the gray tom, “what is your name?”

  “Tobias.”

  The patched tabby turned his keen gaze back on Janelle. “You may leave young Tobias with us.”

  The she-cat dipped her head and looked at the young tom. He thought he saw a flash of fear behind her eyes, but it was there for less than an eye blink. She dipped her head to him, then turned and trotted away. The patched tabby looked back at the gray cat and flicked his tail toward the open door.

  “Come. Let us see just what else you know.”

  Several hundred questions later, the Anointed One showed Tobias to a long table under a drying rack and instructed him to carefully dismantle each flower in a large pile of yellow blooms. Each piece of the flower was to be placed in a separate pile for drying and then processing. It was easy enough to identify the blooms, though he wasn’t told what they were or what they would be used for. The sweet smell and bright yellow petals could only have come from the angel’s trumpets in the garden.

  Tobias wondered why the patched tabby had neglected to mention the flower’s usage while detailing how several of the other plants were used. Although he was very curious, he decided it would be better to observe his surroundings instead, hoping to glean the flower’s use from what he saw.

  Several cats moved back and forth between the drying racks to his right above the long table and another long table behind him. Occasionally he was able to sneak a glance at them and watch as they sorted herbs into smaller piles, some of which went into small bags. The other piles were scooped into mortars to be handled by certain cats. No one came to his end of the drying rack.

  As the day wore on, he witnessed several other cats come and go. It soon became clear who the Anointed Ones were by who could open the door and who needed someone to open the door for them. The door to this room had no button to push to set pulleys in motion. Tobias watched from the corner of his eye as a young cat carrying a small satchel approached the door and sat, waiting patiently for it to open. A moment later a she-cat he had decided was an Anointed One walked behind the young tom and waved her tail as she passed by. The door mysteriously opened, allowing the tom to leave with his satchel.

  Tobias frowned as he tore apart another flower, placing the petals in one pile and the other parts in their respective piles. He’d come to the conclusion that, although using magic wasn’t specifically banned, it was obviously taboo. Yet these cats freely used it to manipulate objects at will. He assumed their titles were a way for them to pass off their talents as being miraculous.

  A hanging basket to his left lifted itself from the line and floated away toward the back of the room. He watched it follow a white she-cat as she disappeared behind another closed door. He didn’t realize he was still staring at the door, thinking about what could be behind it, until he heard someone clear their throat beside him. He turned to look into the face of the patched tabby who had interviewed him.

  “Curiosity is not always a good thing,” the tabby said.

  “I apologize. I was just amazed when the basket flew away,” lied Tobias. The older cat smiled.

  “Yes, it is a wonderful gift the Lord bestowed upon us. Ours is a special place the Master has in the New Eden He is creating. However, we must all do our part. The change won’t happen by itself,” he said, looking pointedly at the flowers the young cat was supposed to be dismantling.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Tobias went back to tearing apart the angel’s trumpets. By the time the end of day bell rang, he knew what his next move was going to be.

  The sun felt warm on Lowrance’s back as he held the ladder for Adam. Their crew had been rotated to the apple orchard. It was still difficult for the boy to wrap his mind around the various foods being harvested at the same time, foods that didn’t naturally ripen at the same time. Lowrance gazed down the rows of fruit trees toward the grain plots. How many days had he been here? Was this just the third
day? It felt like a lifetime. His arms felt leaden as he grasped the wooden ladder. He leaned his head against it for a moment, letting the sun’s warmth ease his muscles. So tired. I’ll rest for just a minute. His eyes fluttered shut.

  The sound of a thud brought Lowrance back to reality. He jerked his head up, eyes wide, and looked around. He spotted Adam on the ground, his arm bent at an odd angle. The younger boy’s eyes were glazed over, but he didn’t make a sound. Lowrance hurried to his side, putting a hand on the child’s shoulder.

  “Don’t move. I think your arm is broken.”

  The freckled boy gingerly touched the bent arm, bringing a low moan from the child. He looked around, expecting help to be running toward them. No one had stopped working. Even the cats watching nearby hadn’t moved an inch. He glared at the nearest feline, motioning toward the child on the ground.

  “Hey! Can we get some help over here? He’s broken his arm.”

  The tom looked to another cat, nodding toward Lowrance and Adam. They trotted over at what the boy felt was a leisurely pace. He did his best to bite his tongue as he moved out of their way. A moment later, the yellow tom paced up beside them. He looked up at Lowrance, his eyes narrowed.

  “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure. One moment he was on the ladder and the next he was on the ground.”

  The tom looked at the ladder, then back at Lowrance. The boy felt light-headed and shaky, but he did his best to stand tall in front of the yellow cat’s steely gaze.

  “You fell asleep.”

  It was a statement of fact. Had the tom been watching him? Lowrance tried to shake his head and stumbled, catching himself before he fell. The cat turned to his fellows.

  “Get him up. Take him to the hospital wing.”

  Lowrance bent to help the child up. The cats turned on him, fur fluffed, razor-sharp teeth bared.

  “Back to work, boy,” hissed the yellow tom. “This is none of your concern now.”

  “But —”

  The tom hissed and swatted at him, claws missing his leg only because he shuffled back a step. He blinked in confusion as the cats goaded the child onto his feet, the boy’s arm swinging uselessly at his side. The arm was obviously broken and needed to be held aloft, but neither the cats nor the child seemed to notice. The very fact that the child didn’t seem to feel any pain chilled Lowrance. A growl from behind reminded him to go back to work. He looked around and found another child a little further on who was in need of someone to hold the ladder. Although the sun was still beaming down on the freckled boy’s shoulders, it had lost its warmth and sleep was the furthest thing from Lowrance’s mind.

  Chapter 7

  Tobias peeked around the corner. The hall was empty, not that this was surprising. Every time he’d sent a mirror call here a child had come running from somewhere else to answer it. He assumed there wouldn’t be anyone guarding the public mirror. He’d considered making his call from another mirror closer to their quarters. The chance that one of the Anointed Ones would discover his magical signature on a mirror that had never been used in a spell before made him decide against it.

  The gray tom slunk down the hall, belly to floor. Janelle had hurried them past the mirror room without mentioning its use, but Tobias had known what the room was for when he glimpsed it as they passed by. There couldn’t be that many sparsely decorated rooms with giant mirrors. He listened for a moment at the open door. Hearing no voices, he peered around the door frame to be certain the room was vacant. No one. He trotted to the chair and leaped onto it. The mirror vibrated with the amount of dormant magic it held. It made the tom’s fur itch.

  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating on the magical fibers woven into the mirror. He stroked each one, watching in his mind where they led. One by one he checked each magical cord in the bundle until he was sure he’d identified the one connected to the announcement bell.

  With practiced ease he lifted the strand away from the others. He steadied his breath as he pushed a fine strand of will into the alarm cord. He’d read about tying knots in magical cords, but hadn’t had the opportunity to practice. Gently he looped the cord upon itself, then twisted it, pulling another scant length through the loop. It wouldn’t stop the alarm from sounding, but he hoped it would delay it long enough for him to finish his call.

  As he backed his mind out from the bundle, a whisker’s touch of will brushed against another cord. His eyes flew open at the lightening like zap that coursed through his mind. He’d lost the connection to the bundle. As sorely as he wanted to go back and find that strand, he’d have to leave it for now. He couldn’t guarantee how long it would be before someone would notice he wasn’t in his room or a call came in from somewhere else.

  It took less than half a thought to call up the mental image of his friend’s temple in the Outer Reaches not more than a few days carriage ride from here. A moment later the mirror cleared, revealing a small room filled with colorful pillows and a couple of straight back chairs. A gray and white patched tabby sat facing a large image of the Beloved, which hung from the opposite wall.

  “Terence, thank the One,” said the gray tom, breathing a sigh of relief.

  The tabby jumped and spun around, his blue eyes wide. As soon as Tobias saw the narrow face and close-set eyes, he knew it wasn’t his friend.

  “I’m sorry,” the cat said, “Brother Terence is taking his vow of silence right now. Is there something I can help you with?”

  The tom’s ears flattened and he bared his teeth in a silent growl. The young cat in the mirror shrunk back. Tobias forced his ears up and tried to smile.

  “When will he be available?”

  The tabby sat up straighter and smiled in return. “I’m afraid I don’t know. When we take a vow of silence we wait until we feel the Spirit move us to speak again. Some Brothers never speak again.”

  The gray cat wanted to snarl in frustration, but kept his expression calm. He felt the cord he’d tied begin to tremble. No time.

  “I need to get him a message. Tell him his friend from the academy needs information on angel’s trumpets — the flower, not the instrument in the Books.”

  “Where can I have him send his reply,” asked the gray and white tom.

  The bell for mirror calls sounded in the distance. It would only be moments before someone came running. How could he get a reply? He didn’t know if he would be allowed to receive mail and if that were possible, would someone read it first? Until now he’d never needed to know how undercover officials sent and received messages. He cursed himself for jumping into this without thinking everything through. He took a deep breath and considered what his father had done when he had been helping shut down dragon willow trafficking rings. Master O’dorn. If I have it sent to him, I’m sure he can figure out somehow to get it to me.

  “Send it by dragon messenger to Master O’dorn in the Middle Districts of King’s City.”

  “Master O’dorn in the Middle Districts of King’s City? Are you sure you don’t want it sent directly to your temple?”

  The slap of sandals grew with each passing breath.

  “No. Just tell him its urgent. Please.” Tobias let the call drop just as a young girl skidded into the room. The child stared blankly at the gray tom.

  “It was a wrong connection,” he said.

  The young human pulled her shirt up around her neck and prostrated herself.

  “I apologize. I was too slow. May the Master find glory in my punishment.”

  Tobias stared at the jagged scars crisscrossing the girl’s back, his stomach clenching at the realization of what had created them. He had no idea what to do now. He suspected the girl would lay there waiting for punishment until someone found her. If that happened, he doubted his little call would go unnoticed or that he would be able to talk his way out of it.

&n
bsp; He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and dropped to the floor. He walked toward the child, steeling himself for what he knew he must do. Slowly, he raised his armored paw over the girl’s back. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, slashing down on the soft flesh. The girl didn’t make a sound. Tobias opened his eyes and looked at the five red streaks he’d left as they oozed blood. He looked away, a lump catching in his throat.

  “Pull your shirt down,” he choked.

  “Please, Holy One of the Master, I must be punished.”

  The tom squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t. Not again. A whisper of fur crossed his mind, leaving behind an idea in its paw steps.

  “Today you have known mercy. Go and sin no more. Blessed be the One.”

  He heard the shush of cloth being pulled over skin and then the soft slap of sandals against stone. When he opened his eyes the child was gone.

  Tobias scurried down the darkened hall. When voices echoed back to him, he ducked into doorways and under the sparse furnishings, waiting for the Brothers and Sisters of the temple to pass by. With the speed of a racing snail he made his way to his room. He paused a few doors down, listening for any sound that someone might be nearby. Positive that the silence meant no one was around, he bellied his way to the door. He looked both ways down the hall, then up at the lock on the door. When he saw it was a simple sliding bolt, he grinned.

  He took one more glance down each hall then reached up and tugged at the bolt lever, pulling it aside just enough to unlock the door. From there it was a simple matter of pushing down on the door handle and swinging the door open wide enough to slip through. He pushed the door closed again, hoping no one would discover that the bolt wasn’t slid home. He was glad to see his partner was still awake, though he looked as gray as the inside of an ash bucket.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Remember that boy I told you about the other day?” asked Lowrance, looking up from gazing at the floor, dark circles under his eyes.

  “The one that looked like a creepy marionette? What about him?”