by Taki Drake
The children were very careful around her. Admonished by their grandmother, they were gentle in their petting and respectful of her space. If TT turned her head away, the children would stop petting her and leave her alone. They took turns bringing her food and even helped her over to the box of dirt that was available for her daily needs.
TT would’ve been embarrassed, but she knew she couldn’t do her normal grooming without help. One day, she woke to a feeling of a luxurious massage. Opening her eyes, she expected to see the opulent castle surroundings around her and find that the last week had been a terrible nightmare. Instead, she saw the gray and unadorned walls of a poor city dwelling.
The difference in the two was shocking, but TT immediately realized that the coldness of marble floors and elaborate rugs didn’t hold up to the thoughtfulness in caring that a five-year-old could show as she gently tried to groom out the cat’s matting fur with their own hairbrush.
An unfamiliar sense of warmth infused the recovering cat, and her rusty purr sounded in the quiet room. The little girl was startled and stopped her brushing motions. TT butted her head against the hand holding the brush. Still unsure of herself, the little girl was frozen in confusion until her mother walked over to the two of them, saying quietly, “I think she wants you to go back to brushing her, sweetie. That is how cats tell you without words that they like what you’re doing.”
As the little girl started her careful grooming again, TT saw a look of utmost love and pride light momentarily on the woman’s worn face. Ratcheting up her purring to an even louder sound, the Persian contributed her thanks in the best way she knew how.
The third week was a threshold time for TT. The Persian cat went from very little awareness of her surroundings and health that teetered on the edge of total failure to a more stable position. She ceased to have to monitor her own body functions consciously, instead slowly trusting her breathing to run on its own and her heart to continue beating.
The Familiar became better integrated into her surroundings, noticing more of the daily routine of Dora and the activities of the children. As the week proceeded, the cat would get up and move from place to place in the apartment. Always careful not to get in the way of whatever activity was going on, nonetheless she observed more of the family interaction and begin to extend her integration back into the living world step by shaky step.
Although she wasn’t terribly resilient, TT pushed the limits of her ability each day. Determined to be ready to go on when Lori returned, TT knew that she had to gain strength and mobility as quickly as she could. One day, the cat was sitting by the open window that looked out onto the street. Since the apartment was on the third floor, Dora was not concerned about just leaving the window open. The warmth of the sun and the complex smells that mixed in the air were interesting to TT, and she spent many hours just experiencing them.
Just having the luxury of stretching out in the heat made the Persian feel better. Who would’ve thought just a couple months ago that I would be this content with such a simple pleasure?
A mental voice interjected into TT’s head, causing her to sit upright and almost fall over backward with surprise. It was definitely male in tenor and said with a subtly growling undertone, << It is amazing how much almost dying changes your perspective. >>
TT glanced wildly around her, trying to locate the source of the mental voice. It returned, commenting in a warmer tone, now underlaid with laughter, << Don’t give yourself a muscle strain trying to locate me. I will be down in a little bit. >>
A few moments later, two large six-toed paws were visible on the outside of the ledge. That was immediately followed by the appearance of a large, scarred-looking alleycat with a chewed ear and the evidence of a hard life carved into his body and face. He pulled himself up to sit on the ledge opposite where TT had been sunning herself.
The cat had a wicked look on his face, glinting orange-gold eyes and a lived-in appearance to his body. He was easily three times the size of the small Persian. Dabbled in grays, browns, and blacks, the cat had the medium fur that was a good balance between temperature control and lack of matting. This is a cat that was used to fighting and used to taking care of himself.
TT’s thoughts spun around in her head. How did he know I was here? mixed with, I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley! She could feel the flash of amusement from the other cat and waited for him to say or do something else.
<< I bet you are the fancy little cat that everyone is so concerned about. In fact, I’m pretty sure your name is TT. Although you don’t look like a pampered Persian right now. It is pretty plain that life has smacked you with some hard lessons recently. >>
Whatever she had expected him to say, it was not what she just had heard. TT was literally stunned speechless by what the tough-looking cat said to her. When she didn’t immediately respond, the other cat continued.
<< Cat got your tongue? Sorry, couldn’t help it. My Witch tells me you have a low sense of humor, but I don’t really worry about that since he would not know a sense of humor if it bit him in the ankle. >>
<< You… You have a Witch? >>was all that TT could manage to contribute.
<< Yeah, I know that’s a surprise. But the old duffer is pretty cool, and we have been together for quite a while. We are used to each other and try to watch each other’s backs. >>
TT was disoriented. Here was an alleycat, all scarred and beat up. Yet, he was a Familiar, supposedly one of the elite. She had been raised to think Familiars had to be perfect and this guy definitely wasn’t. Was everything she had been taught a lie? Her mind whirled, and she couldn’t seem to form a coherent comment.
The bigger cat moved toward her, stopping a short distance away from her and examined her intently. When he spoke again, all humor had leached from his mental voice, and he sounded like the deadly fighter that he looked. << Who has done this to you? This treatment is unconscionable! >>
TT looked dumbly at him. She was ashamed. How was she going to tell this cat with the scars of his existence written everywhere on his face and body that she had failed? That she had been unable to stop her Witch from casting her off? How was she going to tell him that she was imperfect, judged unworthy, and literally thrown into the garbage?
Her continued silence must have fed his fury because the fur on the large cat started to rise and his tail looked twice as thick as it had when he had first arrived on the ledge. When he spoke, his voice was very gentle, like a storm on a leash. No longer intimidated, TT could feel his desire to help and a protective rage that reminded her of Dascha.
The male cat said, << Princess, I need to know what happened. I will not be angry at you at all but whoever did this to you has to be stopped. I promise you, on my honor and that of my Witch, Jeremiah Pinteur, that we will not allow your attacker to emerge unscathed. >>
TT was pushed into speech by his casual use of her real first name, << Please, please, don’t call me Princess. I know it’s my first name, but I’m no longer a princess. I’m flawed, scarred. My Witch didn’t want me, and I don’t think my family is going want me either. I almost died, and only friends that I never did anything to earn have cared about my welfare. >>
<< Okay, TT. My name is Davin, and I am the Familiar to a very old and powerful hedge Witch by the name of Jeremiah. Please tell me what happened, and we will do what we can to assist you and find some balance for what has happened to you. >>
<< My Witch cast me off. I came back from the Familiar Trials with injuries, and she said that it made me unworthy to be her Familiar. She did a spell to repudiate me and somehow made me pay all of the cost. Then she had people throw me out into the trash.
<
She knew that if she didn’t tell him quickly that her em
barrassment and shame would prevent her from telling him everything that he might need to know. She waited for his response, terrified that he would reject her too.
Davin tilted his head to one side and got the look that TT associated with Familiars talking to their Witches. After a few seconds, the cat slowly blinked his eyes and focused back on her. The alleycat stood up and shook himself slightly before speaking.
<< My Witch says that he needs to come and make sure that you’re right. The type of traumatic spell that was dumped on you sometimes leaves aftereffects that could kill you without notice. He wants to be able to examine you and give you some potions that will help you recover. He will also find out why your presence here is a danger, and if necessary, you can come with us for a while. >>
<< I don’t want to be any more of a burden, and I don’t want to upset the people that I’m staying with. The woman is struggling to keep her two children safe, and I have tried not to be a further drain. Her mother will visit in less than a week and was going to make arrangements for me to leave. I think from the conversation that there is some scary threat to this household so maybe your Witch could ask Dora what that danger is. >>
Bobbing his head in agreement, the big cat turned to leave the ledge. He jumped from the windowsill into the air. TT felt a surge of minor magic that told her that he was a Familiar with advanced skills. From the Trials, she knew that it made him at least an Adept. As he rapidly disappeared, she heard his voice once more in her mind, saying, << I will go escort my Witch back here. He’s old enough that he doesn’t always see too well, and I don’t want him to have any trouble. Expect us back in a little while. >>
Chapter 10 – Help from Strangers
TT soon realized that she had a problem. As fearful as Dora had been about answering the door, the cat realized that it might be difficult to get her to allow Davin and Jeremiah to enter. There was no way that the Persian knew of to communicate mentally with someone who was not a Witch. Communication was difficult even between a Familiar and an unbonded Witch, let alone a non-magic-using human.
TT batted the problem around in her brain, acknowledging that she was starting to think again, rather than just existing. She could not find the answer to the problem but continued her search for a solution right up to the point when there was a knock on the door.
There was a frightened gasp from the kitchen where Dora was preparing the sparse meal that would serve the family for lunch. Motioning her children to stay hidden in the kitchen, Dora crept silently to the door and listened.
When the second knock sounded, the woman jumped back and glanced wildly from side to side searching for something that TT could not figure out. The cat tried to communicate the unthreatening nature of the visitor but was brushed away by the frantic woman. Trying as hard as she could, TT projected her mental voice at the woman, << Dora, please calm down. It is someone that is trying to help me. He might be able to get me out of here quickly so that I’m not a danger to you all. His name is Jeremiah, and he’s an old man. He won’t harm you, so please let him in. >>
It was obvious that Dora had not heard TT. She began to drag furniture to pile against the door. The dwelling was sparsely furnished, and the furniture that was there was not very heavy, but Dora’s movements of panic movements were unstoppable by a small, shaky feline.
TT tried again, << Dora, there is no need to panic. It’s an old man that is going to help get me out of here. Please let him in because he says that I need to be checked to make sure the damage is healing. >>
The second attempt wasn’t any more successful than the first. TT was unsure what to do. The effort to communicate had exhausted her, and that drain was starting to disable her own movements. The impasse was broken by an unexpected source.
Running out of the kitchen, a small figure threw his arms around his mother and said, “Mommy, listen, please! The nice kitty is saying that the man outside the door is old and he has come to make sure she’s okay so that she can leave. That way you won’t have to be so scared anymore.”
Dora stopped her movement as if she had been struck. Her mouth was open, and her eyes were wide as she stared down at her small son. His earnest little face was focused totally on his mother, and his beseeching eyes and clutching hands stopped her like nothing else could have done.
The two of them were frozen there for just a moment before tears welled up in Dora’s eyes and ran unchecked down her cheeks. Throwing her hands over her face, the woman collapsed onto the floor. Sobs ripped through her body, giving birth to an agony that was soul-deep. Muffled by her hands, TT could hear the litany of words that tumbled from her trembling lips, “No, no, no. I prayed, dear Lord, oh Brendan, I tried, and I prayed…”
Seeing his mother huddled on the floor and crying, the little boy determinedly moved toward the door. His childish voice was raised to a louder level than he normally spoke, in an effort to be assertive. His valiant attempt failed, as his childish soprano trembled as he asked, “Who are you and why are you here?”
The voice that answered him was elderly, cushioned with kindness but with an underlying strength that TT could hear. The owner of that voice responded, “My name is Jeremiah, and I am here to check on the recovery of the little cat that you have been nursing back to health. I promise you that I have no intention of harm to you or yours. It would be much appreciated if you would open the door and let me in.”
Dora continued to sob in grief and pain. When no response came from his mother, the boy called sharply for his sister and turned back to open the door. TT knew that the children could do this because their grandmother had asked that of them when TT had first arrived. The cat had not realized that it would take both children to successfully open the door, but she was impressed by their teamwork. She watched in fascination as the children worked cooperatively to reach the chain that held the door closed on the inside and then combined their strength to turn the heavy knob that would release the door itself.
They are quite clever for their age, TT thought to herself.
<< Thank you, Kitty. My sister is very smart and tells me what we need to do. >>
<< Oh, dear! >>
<<<>>>
It had only taken a few moments more before the children had managed to open the door enough that Jeremiah and Davin could come in. The elderly Witch looked ancient, wrinkled and stooped. The contrast between him and his tough-looking Familiar was almost ludicrous until you saw the shared affection and strong partnership that shone from their unconsciously coordinated movement and unspeaking reliance on each other.
TT thought it was like a private dance, integrated and flowing. With a pang of regret, she realized that she had never had that in her own life, but had glimpsed it briefly in the greeting of the ferret and his Witch in the beauty of Monet’s garden. What would it be like that to have that all of the time? she wondered.
Jeremiah had immediately closed and chained the door after he entered the room. Smiling at the children, the old Witch moved immediately to the sobbing woman on the floor. He placed the basket that he had been carrying next to her and murmured comfortingly to the woman without touching her, “There, there. It will not be that bad. How about if we all sit down, and I can make us a cup of tea. Then, you can tell me what’s going on. I will check to see how the little cat is recovering and we can figure out how we can get her out of here without endangering you.”
Gradually, the man’s unthreatening and gentle voice worked its way through the shell of Dora’s hysteria. She raised her face to look at the old man revealing a swollen and red-blotched countenance and desperately fearful eyes.
“I’m not sure how you can help us. I have tried so hard to keep my babies hidden because I was afraid that the evil ones would take them. They are so powerful, and my children are so small. My husband didn’t last, so how can my children? I prayed every night that neither one of them would have the mage talent.” Despairingly, Dora dropped her head back down onto her hands and was silent, the only sound her s
huddering breath.
<< Holy shit! Jeremiah, what on earth is this all about? First, we have abuse of Familiars, and now it sounds like we have dark magic users preying on undefended practitioners. >>
Davin’s voice was rough and forceful in TT’s head. Jeremiah’s response was equally forceful but less abrasive when he said, << We will determine that in a little while. Right now, I would appreciate it if you would hold your questions so that we don’t upset the very young mage that’s listening in. >>
Reminded of Phil’s presence, TT looked across the room at the two children and saw that Phil was clutching his sister in fright. Moving as quickly as her abused body would allow her, the Persian immediately went over to the children and started to purr comfortingly. Headbutting the little boy’s legs, she projected, << He sounds mean, but he gets angry when somebody is frightened by bad people. He’s helping me, and I think he will help you too. Just don’t be scared of him. >>
The combination of the comforting mental voice and TT’s demand for petting appeared to ease the youngster's fright. Reflexively, he ceased to clutch his sister and bent to gently pat the shaky little cat. When his sister dropped her knees to the ground and began petting and crooning to TT, the little boy looked first at TT and then at the battle-worn alleycat. His hesitant little voice sounded in both Familiars’ heads, << Can you help Mommy? I know she is scared of the bad man with the stinky mind, but she says that everything is fine. She made me promise to be very, very quiet when they’re around. >>
TT could feel Davin’s tightly controlled fury as the import of Phil’s remarks became clear. She was thankful that Davin managed to control his thoughts to avoid further frightening the young boy. However, she also knew that at some point in the future there would be an outpouring of emotional response from the other Familiar, rendered more intense by his current forbearance.