by Taki Drake
Familiar Travels
by Taki Drake and T S Paul
Table of Contents
Title Page
Legal Stuff
Dedication
Chapter 1 – Going Home
Chapter 2 – Shock and Rage
Chapter 3 – Kenneled
Chapter 4 – Beware of Gifts
Chapter 5 – Disappointment
Chapter 6 – When First You Fail
Chapter 7 – Escalation
Chapter 8 – Smugglers and Deception
Chapter 9 – Back from the Edge
Chapter 10 – Help from Strangers
Chapter 11 – Arrangements
Chapter 12 – Strategic Positioning
Chapter 13 – Plans and Objectives
Chapter 14 – Tactics In Motion
Chapter 15 – Interrogation
Chapter 16 – Misdirection
Chapter 17 – Pathways and Possibilities
Chapter 18 – Escape from the City
Chapter 19 – Homeward Bound
Chapter 20 – Grief and Remembrance
Chapter 21 – Training and Focus
Chapter 22 – Visitors
Chapter 23 – Decision’s Edge
Chapter 24 – Farewell and Fare Well
Chapter 25 – Gossip and News
Chapter 26 – Intersections
Contributing Authors
Author - Taki Drake
Author - T S Paul
Author Notes - Taki Drake
Author Notes - T S Paul
Heartfelt Acknowledgments
Legal Stuff
Copyright © 2018 Taki Drake and T. S. Paul, All Rights Reserved.
Reproduction of any kind is strictly prohibited unless written permission granted by the editor of the anthology and the individual author.
The scenes, characters, and places included in this story are works of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Dedication
As always, this book is dedicated to my loving and supportive husband, John. Without his unwavering support and love, I would lack the energy and emotion to share the worlds of my imagination with my readers.
Chapter 1 – Going Home
The once elegant white cat watched as Dascha and Glenfrey stepped through the portal. She had made sure to be positive and confident when she had talked to Dascha, but she knew that the black cat was aware of how the Persian was dreading her return home. Even though Dascha had listened to her try to explain about her Witch, TT didn’t really know how to explain Rosemary. After the last few days at the trials, TT was very close to not understanding her own Witch, either. Behavior that she had accepted, that her family had told her to accept, didn’t appear to be all right with anybody else.
At some point, she was going to have to think about this. But right now, the immediate concerns were getting home and what would happen when she got there.
<< Come along now! There’s not a lot of time for you to get to the portal before we have to switch it around. There only two of you going to Paris! >> said the fussy heron that was in charge of the TT’s assigned portal.
<< I am ready when you are, sir, >> was TT’s reply.
The large bird looked at her sharply, possibly hearing a note in her voice that he hadn’t expected. I had better watch out how I sound. I don’t want all these people feeling sorry for me, she thought to herself.
The same grumbly ferret with whom she had traveled to the trials was there to travel back with her. His Witch was a retired professor from the Sorbonne, specializing in archaeology. TT had been so intimidated by the amount of knowledge and polish that the elderly ferret had that she had not even said two words to him on the first transit.
<< Young one, did you enjoy your trip? I remember such a long time ago when it was my first Trials. I learned so much, but I had much to think about as I went home. Will it be the same for you? >> He asked in a thready, mental voice.
<< I suspect that I will have the same challenges, sir. I have certainly learned a lot of things to consider, and some of those will take some time for me to see how they apply to my own situation. >>
<< Well said, young one. It is nice to know that there are still families that teach proper behavior. You are a blessing to your family, I am sure. >>
Although TT smiled and bobbed her head in respect, she couldn’t help but feel that he was wrong. At this point, her family would no longer be proud of her and her Witch wouldn’t either. However, she did not know what else to do. It had taken everything that she could muster of her pride to not beg to go home with Dascha. Or even one of the others. But she was a Familiar, and she was bound. She had to go back to her Witch.
The swirl of the activated portal started to spin with all the colors of the rainbow and a pulsating mixture of disorientation and humming attraction that made TT want to slide into it. It was almost as if the very air was alive. This portal was different than the one that Dascha went through. Paris had its own set of energies, and they were not as close to nature as those found in Dascha’s area.
Instead of an obvious group of elemental energies interacting and telegraphing their existence in the form of defining spirits, the Paris gate was more subtle, more refined. Outlines of fire, cobblestone bricks for their feet, and a brief rain shower. All of those prepared the ground. A strong breeze assisted them through the open mouth of the portal and off into the distance.
Steeling herself for what she knew was going to be an unpleasant experience, TT stepped forward. With the elderly ferret insisting that she, as a lady, precede him she had no choice in her approach if she did not want to embarrass herself or her family.
Heart pounding in her throat and a queasiness already settling in her stomach, TT took that fateful first step through the fabric of the portal. She hadn’t been mistaken. It still felt like every atom of her was ripped apart and put back together again in the three steps that it took to go from the trial grounds back to her home environment.
It was no more than a split second, but the gate covered an immense distance before TT’s paws hit the ground in the back of Monet’s garden. The idea that the famous painter had created his beautiful florals from flowers that were nurtured by the magical energy of the portal, amused TT to no end. It seemed like a hidden joke, something that added a special dimension to those famous paintings. TT had heard people discuss the painter’s work in her mistress’ salon, attributing the luminescent light to the painter’s special skills. Only now did TT understand that Monet had painted his vision of magic.
Normally, the flower garden filled her with peace and a sense of elegance. Right now, every step that she took through the gate seemed to drag on her spirit. She was desperately, overwhelmingly frightened.
She could see two dark shapes waiting right outside of the gate. The garden was closed now, but she and the ferret had no problem navigating through the deserted garden and sliding through the small gaps of the gate. Truth be told, TT was a little envious that the elderly professor had come to meet his own Familiar. He walked with a cane and was wrinkled and very slow, but his pleasure at seeing his Familiar was unmistakable.
Despite the ferret’s age, he scampered up the outstretched arm of his Witch and made chittering, happy sounds as they greeted one another. The old Witch’s shaking hands gently patted his Familiar and TT could almost feel the contentment that surged up as they basked in the pleasure of being together again.
Concealing a bracing breath, she turned toward the driver and the open automobile door that waited for her.
She knew that her Witch would not come to pick her up. That was not how proper behavior was handled in a Witch-Familiar relationship of such a noble house. Instead, a very proper driver was there, dressed in his livery and standing with impeccable posture. The door was opened for her, and he stood at attention waiting for TT to ascend into the car.
Normally imperturbable, the driver actually stepped back in shock when he saw the white cat coming toward him. Sacre bleu! What has happened to you? This is a disaster!” he said, waving his hands in the air.
The shock on his normally stone-like face cut TT to the bone. She felt like she was having the skin peeled off of her flesh sliver by sliver. Her Witch had everyone trained to perfection and for him to break training like this meant she really did look horrible. She had looked at herself in the water, and it had not seemed that bad, but maybe she just wasn’t looking at the right place. Dascha didn’t seem to care, in fact, Stinky and Jack and all the rest of them didn’t really seem to mind that she had been hurt. They had protected her at the risk of their own lives, and she felt a little bit of warmth deep in her heart just thinking about that.
The driver had regained his composure. Once again, he looked like the perfect emotionless automaton. Holding the door for her, he backed up and waited for her to enter. Reluctantly, TT jumped up on the seat, cringing internally as she saw the faint smudges of dirt from her tracks that were left on the pristine leather upholstery. Somehow, she knew that as soon she was out of the vehicle, that the chauffeur would be scrubbing the seat. It would not do for anything to be less than immaculate for Madame Rosemary d’ Reauvrey, the premier Witch of Paris, France.
<<<>>>
The white cat was so sunk in misery that she wasn’t even conscious of the moment when they arrived home. Only the stopping of the vehicle and the almost silent opening of the door brought her back to the present. TT had been lost in reverie the whole time, thinking about many things. Her family, the way she was raised, the different way that they regarded being a Familiar than what had been taught at the Trials.
With an ache so sharp that it felt like it was cutting into her, TT missed her friends. With them, she was accepted and felt safe. Right now, she was not safe at all. At some level of her mind, the Persian knew that she was walking into a very risky and dangerous situation. If she could have just explained why she knew that, maybe the homecoming would’ve been different.
Reminded of her surroundings once more by the soft throat-clearing of the chauffeur, TT gathered her shreds of dignity around her and jumped out of the vehicle and started walking up the steps. Remembering how she had pranced up and down the steps with her tail flipping in the air, proud to be the jeweled Familiar of such a highborn and powerful Witch, TT could not reconcile the cat she had been the week before and who she was now.
As the small white cat approached the front door, it opened. As usual, one of the footmen tended to the door under the supervision of the Butler. There was no laxness allowed in her Witch’s home. No failure to perform or inexpert execution. Everything had to be done perfectly.
Looking at the people around her, TT felt like they were not real. Instead, they were a mirror of perfection that would only reflect things that were flawless. She felt alienated and not included, no longer unmarred. The next few minutes of her life were going to be some of the hardest ones that she had ever experienced. However, she had survived the Familiar Trials, and she was on her way to learning a lot more about herself and what power she owned. There was nothing to do but go forward right now.
As TT moved toward the solarium that was the normal place for her Witch to be at this time of day, she saw from the corner of her eyes the look of dismay and horror on the face of the Butler. That look was echoed on the even less controlled visage of one of the maids that happen to catch sight of her as the cat walked back toward the solarium. There was no concern, no empathy in those looks. Just unmitigated dismay with overtures of disgust. Had she really been that shallow before? Was it something that she had been raised to believe or something she had inside of her? Only time would tell.
Cringing inside with trepidation, TT entered the room.
Chapter 2 – Shock and Rage
“Who did this? I will sue them! I will spell them into oblivion! They cannot get away with ruining my possessions!” screeched the noblest Lady Witch, Rosemary. Her blonde hair was piled perfectly high and curled, and her deep blue eyes were sparkling with rage. As she paced around the room, the irate woman alternately screeched at the top of her lungs and leveled small glass objects to powder.
TT’s entry into the room had been just as bad as she thought it would be. At first catching sight of her, the Witch had looked just shocked, but that passed in a split second. Then, the fury had started. The woman was incensed, furious that something of hers was marred.
TT had no opportunity to respond to anything. Her Witch had not asked her if she was all right, had not asked for any input or explanation. It was obvious that as far as the Witch was concerned, the Persian cat was an object that she owned, and someone had damaged part of her property.
Maintaining control of her emotions by the thinnest shred of her front claws, the white Familiar sat perfectly still and waited for her Witch to finish her temper tantrum. She noticed that Rosemary never looked at her after the first, all-encompassing glance of horror and repugnance.
While she had expected that from her Witch, it still struck her through the heart. The pain was so great that all she could feel was a deadness in her chest. The disorientation, coupled with the abrupt withdrawal by the Witch from the Familiar bond was causing ringing in the cat’s ears and endangering her grip on consciousness.
TT was so frightened that she had locked her legs to keep her body upright. If she didn’t concentrate on that posture, she would run and hide, and somehow she knew that was the wrong thing to do.
As the Witch continued to stamp around the room, shouting threats and promising retribution on the unnamed people responsible, TT concentrated on controlling her nausea. The emotions that were bouncing around the room and the ones that were obviously missing, made her feel like she had a hairball in her throat. She didn’t want to further disgrace herself by throwing up all over the Aubusson carpet.
Rosemary had started her screeching again, “Everything, everything is supposed to be perfect. If things are proper around you, if everything is beautiful around you, then you will be beautiful. I will not allow anything to damage my appearance and the respect with which I am treated by society. There is no place in my life for something that is broken. Or anything that is marred!”
Her ladyship’s maid, a woman named Drew, had been sitting in the solarium with her mistress, working on a piece of handwork. She was the overt recipient of the diatribe, although TT could see the same look of disdain on the maid’s face whenever the servant’s glance happened to touch on the weary little cat.
Seeing that her mistress had started to wear the strength of her emotion off to a slightly more maintainable level, Drew got up and went over to pour a glass of wine. Handing it to her mistress with a respectful bow, Drew said, “My Lady, it will do your complexion no good to be this upset. Please, come sit down and relax. Have a glass of wine, and things can get calmer. Once there, we can decide what to do.”
“Oh, all right. After all, I wouldn’t want to start getting wrinkles on my face.”
The mistress of the household sat down and picked up a beautiful small fan. Snapping it open she waved it in front of her so that a slight breeze wafted cooled air to her face. Sipping from the class of wine, the Witch glanced at Drew and said, “I suppose there’s nothing to do for it. I hate going through this sort of disruption. It’s so not good for me, and I have so many things to do. The social season in town is quite packed.”
TT chose this moment to attempt to explain, << My Lady, my injury was the result of an unpleasant accident. It did not happen in the contests at all. Instead, there was a series of actions that resulted in
my being hurt at the welcome event. I was not doing anything I should not have been, and the people responsible for the problem have been dealt with most severely. >>
The cat might as well not have been there for all the attention that the Lady Rosemary paid to her comments. Instead, the Witch continued to converse instead with her maid, saying, “Drew, I think we are just going to have to do like we did before. There’s no help for it, and I cannot bear to keep the situation as it is.”
Mewing a small sound of distress that slipped past the restriction in her throat, TT tried again, << My lady, please. I have tried so hard to make you proud of me, please don’t be angry. This was not my fault! >>
Suddenly, TT had all of her mistress’ attention. A frantic part of the back of her brain was telling her she would have been better off to hide. But her devotion and bravery drove her forward. Looking at her with a cold precision that showed no tolerance for something that was less-than-perfect, the aristocratic Witch said, “Don’t talk to me. You are disgusting. Your coat is a disaster, those scars will always be visible. I certainly don’t want something that looks like the mess you are in my boudoir or my parlor. Instead, your type is usually seen begging on the street. You will immediately go away!”
The Witch spun to look back at her ladies maid, but before she could start talking again with the woman, TT put as much emotion as she could into the voice that only sounded along the Familiar bond, <
Eyes sparkling in a fury, and with black and red threads of power slipping from her hands, Rosemary turned with iron control that was more frightening than her temper tantrum had been. “How dare you talk to me. You are no longer to talk to me in any way, shape, or form. The use of a Familiar bond from something as flawed as you is disgusting. I will not be touched by that sort of contact.”
TT felt like she had been pummeled from an unexpected source. The Familiar had been pushed away as if she would contaminate her Witch. There was no caring in that rejection, no return of her love and her adoration. Simply a cold evaluation of her suitability. In that assessment, there was nothing that considered anyone else’s welfare but that of the Witch.