Familiar Travels: In the World of the Federal Witch (Familiar Magic Book 3)

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Familiar Travels: In the World of the Federal Witch (Familiar Magic Book 3) Page 15

by Taki Drake

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  The darting of the bird’s motion was echoed in the rapid flutter of his mind. He skipped from one thought to another and TT was unsure which of the sentences should be taken together. Jack also seemed amused. TT could feel his mirth through the point where his heavily-furred body was pressed against her shoulder.

  << Yes, I’m traveling with my uncle. He is another Familiar without a Witch. His Witch died many years ago. >>

  The tiny bird darted over to where Jack crouched chirping, << So sorry! That would be terrible! >>

  Trying to watch the darting bird was beginning to give TT a headache. Hoping to provide another distraction for the tiny thing, she asked, << What is the other news? We’ve been out of touch, and I know I’ve got some catching up to do. >>

  << Oh, there’s lots of news. My Witch is not very brave, so she says to stay away. She doesn’t want to have the Witch in the really big city mad at her. She is worried that if that bad Witch finds out about her and that she’s helped you that we will get hurt. >>

  Startled by that bit of information, TT only responded, << Okay. I wouldn’t want to get anybody in trouble on my part. >>

  Jack’s snort of amusement brought a brief grin to TT’s face, but it was wiped off in the next second as little songbird continued to pass on messages and news.

  << Your family must like the bad Witch because your cousin is now her Familiar. The owl that told me said that your old family is very proud of her and that she has promised to do a better job than you did. >>

  TT had thought that she had worked through and settled her heartbreak. She’d tried so hard to acknowledge the feelings of rejection and abandonment, the wounds that were caused when the Clawtip Clowder had disowned her. She realized now that she had been wrong because the pain was still sharp and cutting.

  The wounds remained fresh. Only now, the pain was deeper and bigger. The knowledge that her little cousin, Felicia, was now with the Lady Rosemary had opened up the ocean of old hurt with its associated sadness and rage that she had felt from the original betrayal. The repudiation by her witch, the abandonment of her family, and now the sacrifice of another unknowing innocent.

  She had tried to warn them, and it had done no good. They were willfully blind. It meant that her family and members of the society of which she had once been a long-valued member were going to pay the price.

  << TT, you know you did what you could. There was nothing further that you could’ve done to stop this. >>

  << I know, Jack. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t hurt about it. >>

  << I know. And that pain will never get any better. As long as they keep doing stupid things, each blow that you find out about is going to hurt. And it may ache more and more because the area will become more sensitive from the repeated blows. All you can do is go on. >>

  The little songbird landed on the branch next to TT. Carefully, the little one was scratching and pecking lines and other symbols on to the branch. Curious as to what the tiny Familiar was doing, TT watched as he drew a series of careful lines and strange shapes.

  << What is it that you’re doing? >>

  << I am making a map. This spot over here is where we are right now. >>

  TT saw that the bird was indicating a strange squiggle scratched into the branch close to her. The little familiar continued, saying <<… And this is where your friend Dascha is, >> pointing to another scratched shape.

  Jack asked, << How far are these two apart? In other words, how much more travel until we get to TT’s friend? >>

  The little bird cocked his head to its side and thought for a moment. << It’s less than a morning’s flight, >> came the light mental voice. << If you hurry, you can be there before nighttime. >>

  TT looked at the markings on the branch, thinking about how the simple symbols on the rough map covered up so much. The innocuous markings didn’t reflect the pain and the struggle that had led up to this point. There were no tracks on that map of the tears and the heartache that lay behind her journey. Just scratchings that showed them that they were close to Dascha and what TT hoped would be an evolution point in her life.

  Thanking the little Familiar, the cats decided that it was late enough in the day that the wolves were probably asleep in their den. It was time for TT and Jack to move on and act quickly. Getting out of the core range of the wolf pack would be smart because they couldn’t depend on convenient trees to be present all of the time.

  Moving a bit stiffly, TT had difficulty getting her normal travel rhythm going. Pushing herself against the discomfort, her muscles soon warmed up, and she started to move more easily and quickly. At any branching of the roadway and periodically during the long stretches of straight pathways, TT would stop and ask aloud, << Which way to Dascha? >>

  They experimented, finding out that a direct question would activate the necklace. It would then point toward what they believed to be Dascha’s location. Trusting the guide, they found their pace increasing as the day wore on.

  TT’s sense of urgency was rising. The thought of another night on the road filled her with foreboding and increased her certainty that it was important that she find Dascha, and soon. At one branch of the road, Jack had stopped suddenly and stared at TT’s chest. The Persian asked, << What is it? >>

  << You don’t even have to ask the necklace. It is now lit all the time and looks like it’s actually pulling you along. >>

  << Perhaps we are getting closer? It might be because we are almost there. >>

  Jack made a little grunt of skeptical agreement, but TT noticed that her uncle was checking the necklace more frequently now, trying to see if it changed its appearance or behavior every few minutes.

  They continued down the road for about another four kilometers when TT heard the resounding clang of a large bell. Stopping immediately in the middle of the road, the Persian cat looked around, trying to see a bell tower that could possibly hold such a large bell.

  Jack asked, << Why did you stop? Is something wrong? >>

  << I was just trying to see where that bell was. >>

  << What bell? >>

  << Did you hear a bell ring? A really big, loud one? >>

  The quick shake of Jack’s head told TT that she was the only one who had heard that immense bell sound. When Jack moved closer and stretched his nose out to sniff the stone, TT was surprised when a long spark of colored light flashed between the stone she still could not see under her chin and his questing nose.

  << Ouch! That hurt! >>

  << Jack, are you okay? It’s never done that before. >>

  Before the older Familiar could respond, the bell sounded again. It was even louder than before, nearly rattling TT’s head. Shaking her head slightly as if to clear buzzing ears, TT closed her eyes just for a moment. When she opened them again, the world looked a little different to her.

  Between the bell tone and her brief reverie, a soft glow of pale blue light had started to emanate from the necklace, while a deeper blue thin line stretched out in front of her going down the road. Checking quickly with Jack, TT found out that she was the only one who could see both the light and the line.

  Jack thought it was a guide for the wearer of the necklace. Perhaps as they got closer, the guidance was designed to get stronger. Thinking that that was as good a theory as anything, TT began to walk again. The day was getting chillier, and the quickly growing mass of thunderclouds overhead gave an eerie appearance to the air.

  The dark greenish clouds filled both cats with worry. Without knowing exactly what the signs of weather were telling them, they instinctively knew that their situation was going to rapidly become worse. Resuming their journey without any need for words, the two cats ratcheted up their speed. Now traveling at a slow trot, they were trying to win a race against an attack by Mother Nature.

  They lost the race.

  A sudden rise in wind carried with it the smell of snow and the dank chill of water. It was all the warning they had before the clouds opened up and a deluge of icy rain
pelted them. Alternating between thick cold drops that froze as they touched bare skin and fur, and sharp little pieces of ice that cut sensitive noses and brought tears to shuttered eyes, TT and Jack were soon disoriented and exhausted.

  Visibility was reduced to almost nothing. The dimming light and swirling ice rain combined to create a wall of visual noise, obscuring anything but the weather.

  The extreme wet and cold quickly sapped all the energy that TT had. Jack tried to shelter her by blocking as much of the wind as he could, but the change in the direction of the wind made any meaningful protection impossible. Dredging up more energy from a well of sheer determination, the small Persian kept pushing on.

  The bell clanged again. Its sound was so immense, so resounding that TT felt like her entire body was ringing. Before she could draw another breath, the bell rang one more time. Stunned into semi-consciousness by the loud sound and the echoing shivering in her bones, the Persian was only dimly aware of the sound of a woman’s voice raised in astonished discovery.

  Hearing Jack’s hiss of protective rage and feeling his tensed legs as he crouched over her body, TT was unable to muster up enough energy to do anything.

  Almost inaudibly, her faint mental voice reached out to him with a feather touch of apology, << I am sorry, Jack, please forgive me. I can’t do anymore. >>

  So close to unconsciousness that she was unaware of a hastily discarded coat being wrapped around her frozen body and warm arms lifting her, TT had already started to slide down the slope into unconsciousness when she was abruptly pulled out by a familiar and well-loved mental voice exclaiming << Oh, TT! My friend, what have they done to you? >>

  Chapter 26 – Intersections

  TT woke to the murmur of voices and the feeling of warmth. There was a pleasant smell of minty herbs in the air and the sound of crackling fire. Opening bleary eyes, TT looked around staring blindly at her surroundings until they started to make sense.

  She was in a medium-sized room that was anchored on one end by a crackling fire and contained several comfortable chairs with mending and work baskets sitting next to them. A small table was set up with a carefully-covered object on it. The thick, plush rug-like covering had the appearance of a valued artifact, with the soft light of magic attached to every fiber.

  Stretched out so close to the fire that she was surprised to see his fur not smoking, lay her Uncle Jack. His blissful expression and the sight of his well-rounded stomach told her that he was both warm and fed.

  As if to notify her that it was her stomach’s turn, TT was mortified to hear a protracted and massive growl from her own belly. A young woman’s voice was raised in delighted laughter before saying, “Baba, I think the little cat is awake now. And she certainly sounds hungry.”

  The owner of the voice came close enough for TT to make her out clearly. It was a young woman with a straight nose and thick, dark hair that framed an animated face. The promise of great beauty was easily seen, but her stubborn little chin warned everyone that this was not someone who was easily deterred from a chosen path.

  From behind TT, Dascha’s meow could be heard in a relieved greeting.

  << I have been so worried! We expected you weeks ago, and Zhanna has had her grandmother scrying for you almost every day. >>

  << I am sorry to have worried you, but we came as quickly as we could. I believe you’ve met my Uncle Jack, the one by the fire that’s doing a great imitation of a fur rug. >>

  Opening his eyes just a little bit, Jack snorted and rolled over muttering, << Cats! >> before diving back into his nap.

  Shakily, TT levered herself into a sitting position. For a moment she teetered, almost falling down again in her weakness. Tightening her muscles in determination, the Persian cat managed to maintain her upright position, acknowledging the victory with a sigh of relief. In her intense focus, she had noticed that another person had come into the room. Bearing a stew thick with meats and vegetables, and swimming in a deep red-brown gravy, an old woman who TT assumed was Zhanna’s grandmother quickly placed the bowl in front of the shaky little cat.

  So great was her hunger, that TT only muttered a quick thanks before diving into the warm meal. It was the first thing she had in days that was filling, and its warmth and re-energizing powers spread quickly throughout her body.

  The only sound in the room was TT eating. All of the others waited until she had dealt with the needs of her body. Making sure to totally clean up the bowl, TT automatically went into the after-dinner ritual of cleaning herself. It was only then that she noticed that her fur was once again a beautiful creamy white.

  << Yes, since you were already unconscious, Bolormaa decided that a warm bath would be the best thing to do. It took three water changes to get that crap out of your coat! I was so relieved when it all came off, and you looked like you again!>>

  << It was camouflage. Jack was right that I would’ve been too noticeable if I would have remained totally white. But I have to tell you that it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done to deliberately roll in that muck! >>

  << Wow! I have to remember that the next time I want to annoy somebody. Tell them that they have to wallow in the mud. I can think of a few cats that ought to be slimed. Hmmm..>>

  The sound of a softly clearing throat interrupted the two friends’ conversation. Dascha’s apologetic << Oops!>> told TT that in the excitement of being able to talk to her, her friend had forgotten something that was important.

  Jack must’ve sensed it also because he got up smoothly from his warm place by the fire and came over to stand next to TT. It was he that asked, << Is there a problem? >>

  Dascha’s reply was uncertain, << We are not sure. Zhanna has been on edge all day, and her grandmother found herself pulling out the scrying bowl early. She would like to have you assist with her scrying because both of them feel like you are somehow involved. >>

  For a brief moment, TT just wanted to have at least a few hours with no problems. Some time that she could relax, recover, and enjoy being safe. Her regret lasted only a few moments, abandoned without a lasting desire as the reality of actively living her own life crystallized.

  << Just tell me what to do. >>

  TT could feel the approval and support that reached out toward her from both Jack and Dascha. Seeing that Zhanna and her grandmother had seated themselves at the table in the center of the room and that the older woman was carefully unwrapping the object in the middle, TT hopped up onto a vacant chair by the table. Zhanna’s grandmother laid the well-cushioned glass to the side and carefully poured a small amount of liquid from a bottle into the revealed vessel. The shining colors of the bowl paled next to the soft light that appeared to originate within the delicate appearing glass, filling the room with an eerie glow.

  The older woman patted the tabletop directly next to the bowl and TT obediently jumped up onto the table. Carefully seating herself to avoid interfering with the old woman’s motions, the Persian cat watched as the old woman swirled the bowl and the liquid level rose. Impressed by such a casual and effortless use of powerful magic, TT watched intently as the old woman leaned over the liquid and stared into its depths.

  When the old seer indicated that TT should come closer and look, a wave of foreboding ruffled through the Persian’s thick coat, fluffing her tail out and making her feel like every strand of hair was electrically charged. In the background, she heard Jack’s meow of astonishment and Dascha’s startled hiss.

  But TT’s attention was drawn by the intriguing colors and dimly-seen shapes that appeared on the surface of the liquid. Bending closer over the edge of the bowl until her nose was almost touching the surface of the magically-charged contents, TT was startled into immobility when the murky contents became crystal clear.

  << I know that room! >> she announced loudly.

  << TT, what do you see? Zhanna says that her grandmother cannot see into the liquid, but it is responding to you. >>

  << It is the workroom of my former Witch. She is t
here in the center, and there are other people with her. I recognize the evil man that tried to take Dora’s children and Drew, the Lady Rosemary’s maid. It is hard to see anything else in the room. >>

  The old woman looked from the bowl to TT saying in a curiously singsong voice, “Just keep your mind receptive and note what is revealed as you watch. Do not try to block it or reject it or the vision will leave you.”

  Obediently, TT simply observed. There were flashes of other situations, moving like a kaleidoscope of snapshots that came and went. Brief images of Adelphia, Jeremiah, and Phil snapped in front of her eyes, Only appearing for brief moments, these pictures were disconnected and not part of any flowing scenario.

  After a few moments, TT could feel the intensity in the bowl rising once more time.

  << I can tell that it’s starting again. I don’t know why but my stomach is all tense, and my head hurts. I don’t want to see this, I know that. >>

  Even without hearing the Persian’s voice, the seer could tell what was happening. Her face full of sympathy and the sadness that decades of allowing visions to sift through her had brought, Zhanna’s grandmother said, “If it is too much for you to bear, it is up to you make the decision on whether you will continue to allow the vision to touch you. However, remember that you are the only one that can unlock this vision. If you refuse it, the opportunity to have this view, this perspective, will be forever gone.”

  Punching her dread and fear down into the locked recesses of her mind, TT opened herself up to the vision that came thundering through her nerves and senses. The obscuring liquid cleared and a scene played out that scorched fiery trails of grief through the cat’s every extremity.

  It was the same location and the same players. Only this time they were gathered around something on the ground. One of the men moved to the side, and TT saw a familiar coat with delicate seal-point markings. She watched helplessly as the Lady Rosemary pushed the animal lying boneless on the floor over onto its back with one jeweled shoe.

 

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