Cat's Quill

by Anne Barwell

  "Now, now, such manners," she chastised. "I promised to take you to him, and I am a lady of my word." Shaking her head, she looked him up and down. "You do look a little worse for wear, but never mind, so does he, so that doesn't really matter at this point, does it?"

  "You bitch!" Tomas lunged at her, but the guard backhanded him across the face, sending him reeling. "If you've hurt him, I'll kill you." He lifted his head, glaring at her. The action earned him a hard punch to the stomach. Now that they were in her territory, all pretense of niceness was gone, the role she had played up to now discarded.

  "Tsk tsk, threatening your hostess like that really isn't good enough." She smiled again. "And you have quite the temper when provoked, it appears. Respect does have to be earned on both sides, and so far you have failed to gain mine." Her eyes hardened. "Bring him," she ordered the guard, "and make sure he minds his manners. We can't have him encouraging dear Cathal to do anything they both might regret."

  "Yes, my lady," the guard replied in the same flat voice he'd used earlier. He pulled Tomas to his feet. "Do you wish me to restrain him?"

  Deryn appeared to consider for a moment. "Perhaps that might be for the best," she decided. "Bind his hands behind his back. It will be a reminder of his role in this, so that he does not get ideas above his station."

  "Very well, my lady."

  She nodded, took a large key from a pocket in her skirt, and walked briskly over to the far door, unlocking it quickly. "Bring him once he is ready. Jasper, you and Lucan stand guard. Make sure that we are not disturbed."

  Tomas's hands were pulled roughly behind him. He struggled, but the guard ignored it and carried on with the task at hand, binding Tomas's wrists so tightly that the rope bit into his skin. His cheek stung where he'd been hit; he could taste dull copper when he swallowed. Once restrained, he was pushed forward, with no choice but to follow Deryn through the door.

  "No!" Cathal's voice was filled with horror. Tomas scanned the room, desperate to find him.

  One side of the room was divided into two cells, more like cages, as this room was about half the size of the outer one. They ran from floor to ceiling several feet away from the wall, bars on either side, with another row dividing the prison into two compartments. In one was a blond man Tomas did not know but who looked familiar for some reason. In the other was Cathal, his hands bound in a similar fashion to Tomas's and the rope looped into a circular iron ring stuck in the floor.

  "Cat!" Tomas pulled free of his captor and ran to the cage. "Are you okay? What's that bitch done to you?" Cathal looked up at him; the side of his face was bruised, his mouth still split where one of his original captors had backhanded him, and his shirt ripped to reveal more bruising across his stomach. He held Tomas's gaze for a moment, his eyes full of fear before a curtain seemed to come over them, all emotion wiped from his features, his shoulders slumping.

  On Deryn's order, the guard pulled Tomas away from the cage. When he kept struggling, a knife was held to his throat, a warning that his current actions were not advisable. He froze, the blade cold against his skin.

  "Let him go, Deryn." Cathal's voice was calm, perhaps too much so. "This is not his fight, it is ours. He does not belong here."

  "I do not wish to fight with you, Cathal dear," Deryn reminded him. "I simply wish you to acknowledge what is yours. We've had this discussion already."

  "I've already told you I won't do that." Cathal shook his head. "The future of our people hangs in the balance, and I will not jeopardize that for a lie." He glared at her.

  "That future hangs in the balance because you will not take responsibility and do the duty expected of you." Deryn shook her head sadly. "I tried to understand. Am I so repugnant that you will not lie with me? That was all you needed to do." She gestured toward Tomas. "And then I discover it is because you have rejected me for another."

  Lie with her? Tomas opened his mouth to protest, but the knife pressed more firmly against his throat. All this was to get Cathal to have sex with her? No way in hell.

  "I will not be bedded by you or marry you, Deryn." Cathal gave Tomas an apologetic look, his gaze lingering on the knife. "Tradition be damned. I will not be with someone I do not love." He lowered his voice. "I'm sorry."

  "The bloodlines must be preserved for the royal house to continue." Deryn sounded as though she believed what she was saying.

  The blond man in the other cell snorted. He was restrained in the same manner as Cathal. "Heaven help us if those bloodlines are reliant on you, bitch," he said.

  "Stay out of this, Christian," Cathal hissed at him. "This isn't your fight either."

  "Sure it's not, cousin." Christian rolled his eyes. Tomas stared at him. This was Christian? The guy Alice had fallen for all those years ago? Christian met the stare with one of his own and, to Tomas's surprise, winked in response. "Think about it. I'm not in this cell for my health, any more than you are."

  Deryn sighed. "You're in that cell, Christian dear, because you're a hindrance to what needs to be done, the same way you've always been. It's your fault that Cathal does not play by the rules."

  "I make my own decisions," Cathal snapped at her. "My cousin is not to blame for this either. He's already paid his dues." He pulled at his restraints, trying to reach the outer bars of his cell, but the rope was too short. "Let him and Tomas go. They've done nothing wrong. I'll sign the damn confession and do whatever else it takes, but I will not bed you. That is my final offer."

  Confession of what? If this wasn't just about him not marrying Deryn, what else was going on? Tomas croaked a "no." The knife pricked his skin, burning as a drop of blood dribbled down his neck to soak into the edge of his cloak.

  He heard Cathal's breath hitch.

  "You are in no position to offer me anything." Deryn sounded amused. "Just remember, my dear, you will be missed eventually, but Christian and Tomas won't be. Neither of them are supposed to be in our world."

  "The council will already be aware that Christian is here," Cathal reminded her. "He is bound to the tree on this side the same way that I am bound to it on the other."

  Deryn smirked. "Ah yes, but Tomas is not. As you said yourself, he does not belong here, and this is not his fight."

  "No." Cathal's voice wavered slightly. "No."

  Deryn strode over to his cage, smiled, leaned in, and whispered something. Cathal paled. She opened the door and gestured to the guard holding Tomas. The knife lowered, and he was pushed into Cathal's cell, his own restraints secured to the iron ring holding Cathal's.

  The door was slammed shut on both of them, and Deryn gave Cathal a slight bow. "I bid you good day for now, Lord Emerys. I do believe you have an offer to consider."

  And with that she swept from the room, the guard following her, shutting and locking the door behind them.

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  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "Cat," Tomas whispered, torn between wanting to kiss Cathal and being suddenly shy now that they were together again. Most of all, he wanted to hold him. He took a step toward Cathal, forgetting for a moment that they were both restrained, letting out a cry of frustration when the ropes holding his arms behind him refused to budge.

  "What are you doing here?" Cathal shook his head, backing away. "You're not supposed to be here. You're supposed to be safe." The fear returned to his eyes. "I went with them so you wouldn't get involved with this." His voice rose, although it was hoarse. "I wanted you kept safe."

  "Cat, please." Tomas bit his lip; the last thing he had expected after all this was for Cathal not to be happy to see him. "I couldn't just wait for what-ifs, not when I knew they had you." He ran his eyes over Cathal again, taking in the scrapes across his skin, the bruising and the dried blood on his face. "That bitch hurt you. What else did she do to you?"

  "And now she's going to hurt you." Cathal's shoulders slumped again, the show he'd put on for Deryn completely gone. "Oh, Tomas. Why couldn't you have j
ust stayed in your own world?" He shivered; the goose bumps were more obvious on his skin now that he and Tomas were mere inches away from each other.

  "Because...." Tomas swallowed, his mouth dry. On impulse he leaned forward and kissed Cathal full on the lips, awkward at first and then leaning into it as Cathal responded eagerly. God, he wanted to just hold him. Damn these ropes, this place, this whole fucking situation.

  "I think he's trying to say he loves you, idiot," Christian broke in dryly.

  Both of them turned to glare at him. Then Cathal's expression softened. "I know he does," he whispered. "I love him too. Why do you think I didn't want him here? If I knew he was safe, I still had hope, something to hang onto when she'd finished with me."

  "You're a romantic, Cat." Christian shook his head and sat down on the floor of his own cell, getting as comfortable as he could. It was no easy task on a cold, hard floor covered with dirt and straw and with his arms bound behind him just as theirs were. "You always have been. She'd never finish with you, not while you weren't giving her what she wanted, and not even when you had. Why suddenly change her habits of a lifetime?"

  Tomas coughed. "Cat and I were having a conversation," he snapped. "I don't remembering giving you an invitation to join in."

  "You didn't." Christian grinned. "It just was such the perfect moment for me to do so that I had to." He ran an approving eye down Tomas. "The outfit suits you." He stretched out his legs, almost lazily. "I still think the towel was better. No, wait, you couldn't find that, could you?"

  "Towel?" Tomas stared at him, his mouth trying to work, his face blushing bright red at the memory. How could Christian possibly know about that?

  "Christian." Cathal spoke warningly. "Don't."

  The blond man smirked. "Why not? He teases almost as well as you do." Blue-green eyes sparkled. Tomas felt his temper flare.

  "This explanation had better be a damn good one." He glared at Christian, his mind going through possible scenarios. There was only one....

  "Meow." Christian winked again, the smirk morphing into a wide grin that reminded Tomas of a Cheshire....

  "No." Tomas thought of Blackthorn and then looked at Christian. It couldn't be. He couldn't be.

  "Stop it!" Cathal lunged toward the bars separating him and Christian. The rope binding him to the iron ring pulled him up short and hard.

  Tomas's jaw dropped, Cathal's reaction confirming his cousin's claim. "How? What? You can't.... Oh God." His legs wobbled, and he sat down with a thud on the floor of the cage. Christian was...? No, it was impossible. Wasn't it?

  "Yes, and I am." Christian sobered for a moment. "Five years in your world as a cat." He gestured toward the door leading from the room. "Fucking bitch."

  "You have no proof it was her idea," Cathal reminded him quietly. "It was the council who handed down the sentence, not her." He moved away from the bars separating the cells to sit down next to Tomas, leaning into him, trying to get as close as their restraints would allow. "If it was anyone's fault, it was mine."

  "We've already had this discussion." Christian's voice was sharp, his mouth curled into a thin line. "I was the one who initially transgressed, not you. They should never have included you in this punishment." He crossed his legs, then uncrossed them. "This is a harsh world, Tomas, with laws that must be adhered to for the benefit of a few, not the majority."

  Tomas found his voice again. "So why come back to it?" He frowned, trying to piece together this new puzzle. Glancing from one to the other, he watched Cathal and then Christian carefully. Alice had been right. They might be similar in coloring, with a strong family resemblance, but their personalities were like chalk and cheese. "If you were a cat," he asked slowly, "why aren't you still one now?"

  "The portal," Christian explained, rolling his eyes when Tomas looked blankly at him. "The oak tree you're fixated on, the barrier between our two worlds is thinner there. With the right key, someone or something can cross between them." He sighed, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, because the area is strong in magic, the mages can also bind a person or a spell to it."

  "Or both," Cathal added, his voice bitter. He shifted slightly so that he was sitting next to Tomas again rather than a little behind him. "The council was very smug when they handed down the sentence."

  "Too smug," Christian agreed. "Punishment to fit the crime, indeed." He muttered something rude under his breath. "I told them we had done nothing wrong, but they would not listen. They are a pack of self-righteous old men who have no clue as to what it means to be in love."

  "You're not a cat now?" Tomas had already noticed how they tended to jump into each other's conversations and take them off topic.

  "Getting there," Christian said. "Impatient, aren't you?"

  "Yes!" Tomas scowled; he hadn't intended to say that.

  Christian snickered. "It appears my cousin won't have to worry too much about his virtue, then, as it's supposedly linked to patience."

  "Christian!" Cathal blushed an even brighter red. "Explain about the cat, or I will." He glared, appeared to reconsider, and then smiled very slowly. "The female cat."

  "I was trying to forget about that part of it," Christian grumbled. "Being a cat was bad enough, but female? Have you any idea what it was like being in heat? I attracted all the males from the area, I swear." He grimaced.

  "It could have been worse," Cathal pointed out. "You could have got pregnant."

  "That is not a topic we are going to discuss!"

  "Why not?" Tomas hadn't seen this side of Cathal before. He rather liked it. "Besides, you were the one who brought up the whole subject of virtue, and the two do appear to be related." Cathal grinned, nuzzling the side of Tomas's neck. He instinctively tilted his head to give Cathal more access.

  "Right," Christian said firmly, giving the two of them an amused look, which they both ignored. "We were discussing binding and trees."

  "And female cats," Tomas reminded him, unable to resist one final dig.

  "Says the man who lost his towel."

  "Tomas. Christian. Please." Cathal sighed, leaning his head on Tomas's shoulder and shivering. Tomas wriggled a bit and managed to drape his cloak over both of them. Cathal smiled his thanks. "Tomas at least deserves to know what exactly he's got involved in. I haven't been very forthcoming with details the few times we've talked about it before."

  Christian was silent for a few moments, staring into space, his expression wistful. When he spoke again, the joking arrogance was gone. "Our society has strict rules about many things, as I've already said. Fraternization with someone from another world, such as your own, is strictly forbidden. So is spending a great deal of time there, which is what Cat and I did. I, of course, went a step further and fell in love. When they found us and discovered the extent of our transgression, the punishment was severe."

  "They made an example of both of us to discourage it from happening again," Cathal continued, his head still on Tomas's shoulder. "We were both bound to the tree. I could not venture past the shadow of it in your world, and Christian could not do the same in this. But for him, they went a step further."

  "The cat," Tomas guessed, frowning. "But that doesn't explain why you're not a cat now, and you're miles away from that tree, and Cat's been out of its shadow in my world too." He wouldn't have been able to spend the time in the inn otherwise, or venture out of the field where the tree was.

  "As Cat said, for me they went a step further." Christian looked down at the straw in his cage, refusing to look at either of them. "When I pass through the portal into your world, I am in the form of the female cat; on this side I am human. It meant that even if they'd made up their mind about the sentence sooner, there was no way I could be with Alice again." He kicked at the floor, angry. "My leash might be longer than Cat's, but it was limited to whatever could be seen from the tree. I haven't been able to go to the church to find her grave either."

  "I'm so sorry," Tomas whispered, unsure of wha
t else he could say.

  "I can't communicate with anyone, and no one talks about her." Christian's voice grew hoarse, his shoulders shaking. "I didn't know there was a child, our child, until a couple of weeks ago."

  "Wynne," Tomas said quietly. "His name is Wynne. I've met him. He has drawings of both you and Cat, sketches that Alice drew."

  "The book," Cathal breathed.

  "Book?" Christian's head came up sharply. His eyes were damp. "Not that damn sequel you've been looking for these past few weeks?" He shook his head. "How could I have been so stupid? I'd hoped you'd find something, that you and Cat together might be able to make things right, but I never dreamed of this." His voice grew urgent. "Is the child all right? They don't know about him, do they? Please, God, tell me they don't."

  "Christian." Cathal started to say something, then stopped. When he continued speaking, it was almost to himself, as though he was trying to make sense of it all. "I knew the book was your story as soon as I started reading it, but I couldn't figure out how it could be. Wynne Emerys...." His brow furrowed. "He must be your son, but how did he know to tell it? I told Alice that she needed to be careful, that she must ensure they did not find out she knew anything about our world. It was the only thing keeping her safe."

  "She wrote a journal," Tomas told them both. "He had it published as a book, but with a few changes. They argued over it." He bit his lip. There was no easy way to say this. "He's not a child anymore, Christian. The time you spent in my world, it was ninety years ago. He's had a child himself, and she's had a child." His tone softened. He couldn't bring himself to look at Christian. "I don't know if they know about Wynne or not. Or his grandson."

  "Ninety years ago? Grandson?" Christian closed his eyes. "I knew time had passed, but I never took much notice of such things. The longer I was in cat form, the harder it became to read. Everything like that was starting to slip."

  "Slip?" Cathal looked at him, horrified. "No! That wasn't supposed to happen. They promised me it wouldn't. The king promised me."