Puss in Boots (Timeless Fairy Tales Book 6)

by K. M. Shea

  Steffen started with the eggs as King Henrik and Timo returned to their conversation. “I would like to remain in Kinzig for all of today, possibly tomorrow as well,” the king said to his commander.

  “You plan to test the borders of Carabas?” Timo guessed.

  “Yes.”

  “I wish you had mentioned the desire sooner, Your Majesty. I would have brought more guards,” Timo said, sipping his tea.

  “That is precisely why I didn’t say anything,” King Henrik said.

  “You mean for us to reclaim Carabas?” Steffen asked, finishing his eggs and crunching on a few pieces of apple-smoked bacon.

  “Eventually,” King Henrik said. “I’m in no hurry. Carabas has yet to be restored in spite of my parents’ attempts. Our best chance is to gather a large retinue of soldiers and magic users, but I would like to test the ogre’s borders and see what he’s up to. The villages closer to Carabas report more difficulties, and that doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “I understand,” Timo said, his voice and expression tempered with patience. “But it will be my soldiers who will carry out these tests of yours, Your Majesty.”

  “Yes, of course,” Henrik said with a hint of humor in his voice.

  Steffen looked around the common room again.

  “Are you looking for someone, Steffen?” Henrik asked.

  “I thought Lady Gabrielle and the cat would be here by now,” Steffen said, eating a slice of ham.

  King Henrik slurped his tea. “Oh, you missed them. They left before dawn.”

  “What?” Steffen demanded, choking on his ham. Timo had to pound him on the back to dislodge the meat so Steffen could stop coughing. “She said they were remaining in Kinzig today,” he said when he recovered.

  “They are,” Timo said, a short nod accompanying his vague statement.

  “But they just left,” Steffen said.

  “Yes, I believe Roland said they were going to fight the witch,” Timo said, tapping his fingers on the worn but polished table top.

  “Who is Roland? And what witch?” Steffen demanded, drawing his shoulders back as his chin shot up in the air.

  “Roland is the cat,” King Henrik said.

  “And the witch is why I imagine Your Majesty has a sudden hankering to test the Carabas borders.”

  “I had it in my mind before, yes, but when Master Roland and Lady Gabrielle explained how the witch lures the children of Kinzig away to her candy cottage in the woods, it fortified my decision,” King Henrik said.

  Steffen’s spine stiffened, and he grasped the edge of the table. “What?”

  “They explained it quite thoroughly this morning. You missed it—probably with all your preening, Your Highness,” Timo said, giving Steffen a roguish smile.

  Steffen gave the man a withering glare. I would wipe that stupid smile off his face if I didn’t think he would trounce me an instant. “You mean to tell me that slip of a girl and her talking cat are going to face a witch?”

  “A cannibalistic witch.” Timo rubbed the white scar on his cheek. “Why else would she lure so many children away?”

  “She eats people?” Steffen said, his irritation with his father, Timo, Gabrielle, and her blasted cat swept aside by a nugget of worry.

  “And you forget, Steffen, that ‘slip of a girl’ now carries a sword. She carries it with confidence, even,” King Henrik added.

  “A sword and a cat against a witch who eats children,” Steffen repeated, unable to trust his ears as the nugget of worry bloomed into a boulder. “Is she mad?”

  “There is no need to grow upset about it,” King Henrik said, his tone mild. “Lady Gabrielle is quite capable of taking care of herself, as she illustrated in Wied.”

  “A gang of bandits is different from a witch.” Steffen glowered. “You wouldn’t let Rune make such a reckless decision.”

  “Perhaps, but neither does Rune travel with a magic cat,” King Henrik said.

  “It’s a shame they’re so rare. I imagine they would be perfect pets to keep with the army,” Timo said.

  Steffen growled under his breath and stood, leaving his delicious breakfast half-consumed.

  “And where are you going?” Timo asked as he leaned back and sipped his tea.

  “After her. The foolish girl doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into,” Steffen said.

  “Come now, Steffen. You aren’t giving her enough recognition. Why, the last village we passed through credited Lady Gabrielle with killing a man-eating snake,” King Henrik said.

  “I don’t care. She’s going to get herself killed if she’s not careful,” Steffen snapped as he checked his weapons. “If you’ll excuse me, Father, Timo,” he said before disappearing through the front door.

  “So impulsive,” King Henrik said, his smile growing stronger.

  “He doesn’t realize how powerful that cat is,” Timo said, snapping his fingers. Alwin, Moritz, and Dominik looked up. Timo pointed to the door, and the guards got up from their benches and trooped after their future monarch.

  “Nor has he realized how skilled Lady Gabrielle has grown,” King Henrik said.

  “The slaying of the man-eating snake impressed you that much?” Timo asked.

  “That and the river pirates in Lech,” King Henrik said. “I don’t think he understands that Lady Gabrielle is quite the hero.”

  “To the common people,” Timo pointed out. “Prince Rune is flashy and takes out the big monsters and helps large fortifications. Lady Gabrielle excels at slipping in and out of small villages like the wind. If she didn’t have that magic cat, I would tip off Mikk about her and see her settled as one of his sneaks.”

  “She is an unusual girl,” King Henrik said. “I look forward to seeing what she does with her future.”

  Chapter 7

  The Candy Cottage Witch

  Gabrielle leaned around a bush constructed of spun sugar. She watched with a calculating gaze as the witch—an old woman who looked as old as dirt and hobbled around on crutches—made her way up the well-worn path that led from the stables and climbed the slight hill upon which the candy cottage was perched. The witch’s red eyes were fixed on her house—though in their previous scout work, they had discovered the witch was all but blind—and she did not notice Puss, who was stalking her.

  The old witch teetered when the path turned uphill and shifted from dirt to red, blue, and purple bits of rock candy, fashioned together like cobblestone. Her scrawny body tipped alarmingly—making the key fastened to her belt by a bit of twine tilt away from her.

  Puss, not bothering to cloak himself with invisibility, leaped and clamped the key in his mouth. He pulled it free as the witch’s crutches slid on the uneven surface of the rock candy cobblestone, and daringly brushed against the witch’s leg as he fled.

  The witch yelped and swung her crutch through the air. When she regained her balance, she lifted her nose—which was so large it was a disfigurement—and sniffed the air. Gabrielle held her breath as the witch snuffled like a bloodhound, her red eyes glowing in the dull light of the forest. “Fool foxes,” the witch said before she started up the path again. “If I find them eating my cotton candy bushes again, I’ll poison them.” She fumbled with her front door—made of springerle cookie—and thumped inside.

  Gabrielle shallowly inhaled through her mouth, careful not to use her nose. In order to outsmart the scent-dependent witch, she and Puss had rubbed something Puss called Essence de Fox on their skin. The scent covered up her human smell because it was powerfully pungent and smelled acidic and sour. She was very careful not to ask Puss what made up Essence de Fox. As he hadn’t volunteered the ingredients list, Gabrielle had a feeling it was something less-than-savory.

  “Well done,” Gabrielle said, crouching down and extending her hand when Puss reached her.

  Puss spat the key into her hand. “That was demeaning,” he said, his ears flattening.

  “Yes, but now we can follow your plan and free the children and take
them home so the witch won’t have any hostages to use against us when we face her,” Gabrielle said, wiping the moist key off on her pants as she studied the candy cottage. “As soon as she is defeated, I plan to raze this place to the ground.”

  The candy cottage was a strange twist of delight and repulsion. The sides were made of gingerbread, and the roof was shingled with thin slices of rainbow-colored hard candy. White frosting dripped from the gutters like icicles, slabs of chocolate framed windows made of clear sugar, and multi-colored candy canes formed a colorful fence. However, the candy was too perfect, and the forest cast a gloomy light over the place, giving it an eerie appearance. The air was too fragrant with candy and sugar. Gabrielle could smell peppermint, chocolate, and hard candies in spite of the pungent odor of Essence de Fox. The sickly sweet scents mixed with the sour Essence was repulsive enough to make Gabrielle swear off sweets for life. Not a single bit of wildlife stirred in the area, even though the witch lived in an edible house. The unnatural stillness made Gabrielle shiver.

  “You are holding a grudge over the gingerbread man?” Puss asked.

  “Absolutely,” Gabrielle said, swinging her gaze from the cottage on the slight hill to the witch’s stable—which was made of wood and had not a scrap of candy decorating it. “We know she’s keeping the children locked in stalls like animals. Do you think it is safe to free all of them at once?”

  “I should think so, as long as they are quiet and not utterly repulsed by the smell of you,” Puss said. “It will be a simple matter of leading the brats out of the stable and into the forest, away from her house.”

  “She won’t notice as their scent moves away in a giant mass?”

  “If we move fast enough, she won’t be able to catch us. She is neither swift nor stealthy. Her operation is based upon luring children in and trapping them.”

  Gabrielle leaned over so Puss could leap onto her shoulder. “Alright, let’s get started.”

  “Phew. I should have walked,” Puss said, his whiskers tickling her cheek.

  “You smell just as bad as I,” Gabrielle said, edging between a chocolate tree and a licorice fern.

  “But you have more mass and are more heavily perfumed to cover it. You had best forget your mad notions of politeness this afternoon and let Anja draw you several baths.”

  Gabrielle took the long way around, avoiding the sticky mess of the frosted lawn, and warily watched the candy cottage as she walked the border of the encroaching forest formed around the witch’s property. Just as she reached the stable, the witch hobbled out of her sugary home.

  Gabrielle darted around a corner of the stable, barely feeling it when Puss sank his claws into her skin to remain perched on her shoulders. She pressed herself against the rough wood and watched as the red-eyed witch raised her nose in the air and sniffed.

  The hag made a sour face and muttered, “More foxes.” She thumped down her rock-candy path, giving no notice to the stable. When the witch reached the eastern forest border, she sniffed, inhaling deeply through her nose, and disappeared into the gloomy trees.

  “What was that about?” Gabrielle asked.

  “I don’t know. She might have scented out another child.”

  “There’s no chance. The Kinzig villagers have all but placed their children under lock and key.”

  “No matter, I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. Get inside. We should begin freeing the children,” Puss said.

  Gabrielle looked once more after the witch before she opened the stable door and slipped inside. The inside was just as ordinary as the outside. It was built like a regular stable with wooden stalls and iron bars—although each stall was locked, and the inhabitants were children instead of horses. It smelled of straw and unwashed child, and the air was accented with muffled sobs and tiny voices.

  “I want to go home!”

  “It’s no use. She’s going to eat us.”

  “Mother, Father, I should have listened to you!”

  “What’s that terrible smell?”

  Gabrielle took a deep breath and regretted it immediately. “Children, be still. My name is Gabrielle, and I’m here to take you home.”

  The stable fell silent as several children stood on tiptoe to peer through the iron bars. “Gabrielle—the Lady Gabrielle?” asked a tall, skinny boy.

  “And Puss in Boots?” a girl his age located in the stall next to him asked.

  “For the love of all that is logical in this foolish world! My name is Roland Archibald Whisperpaws the Fifth. Cease this feline-in-shoes business!” Puss yowled.

  All of the children—excluding the two talkers—burst into sobs and cries.

  “I want my mama!”

  “Home!”

  “Mother, Father!”

  “Shhh,” Gabrielle said as she went to work, freeing the skinny boy first. She glanced around as she fitted the key and twisted. “I hate to ask this of you, but have you all survived?” she asked, sliding the stall open.

  “Yes. She was going to eat the first child tomorrow,” the boy said, springing from the stall like a bird. “She’s been putting it off to try and fatten us up. Not that we were much in the mood for eating.”

  “The witch’s eyesight is so bad, Hansel told us all to save a chicken bone and hold it out instead of our arm. The witch couldn’t tell the difference, and decided not to eat us,” the girl said, nodding at the skinny boy as Gabrielle moved to her stall. “It’s held her off for weeks.”

  “But today she lost her temper and decided she couldn’t wait any longer,” the boy, Hansel, said.

  “Hansel and, what is your name?” Gabrielle asked, pushing open the girl’s stall door after unlocking it.

  “Gretel,” the little girl said, leaping out of the stall.

  “Hansel, I want you to watch outside for the witch. She left her cottage right before I came in here, and I have no idea when she will return,” Gabrielle said. She looked around for Puss and spotted him sitting against a window pane, looking outside.

  Gabrielle had noticed that, over the last few weeks, he was giving her more responsibility in their adventures. Previously, he would have ruled over the affair with iron claws. Now, he listened and offered magical assistance whenever necessary, leaving Gabrielle to organize the event.

  “Speed is of the greatest necessity, Mistress,” the cat said, as if he knew she watched him.

  Gabrielle shook herself from her musings and moved onto the next stall.

  “And what should I do, Lady Gabrielle?” Gretel asked.

  “Organize the children as I free them. They need to be calm when we leave, or they’ll scatter like sheep when we exit the stable. Make them understand that they must be quiet, and they must move at either my or Puss’s directions,” Gabrielle said, making quick work of the stall door.

  When she pushed it, a round boy tumbled from the depths, wailing and crying.

  “How did you know Puss’s name?” Gabrielle asked as she moved to the next stall.

  “What do you mean?” Gretel asked, patting the boy on the back. “How could we not? Every village in the northeast knows of Lady Gabrielle and her faithful cat, Puss in Boots.”

  Gabrielle shook her head and opened another stall, releasing a sobbing toddler. When she had all but two children released, Hansel shouted, “The witch is back—and she has someone with her!”

  In the middle of unlocking a door, Gabrielle paused. “What?”

  “That foolish, bumpkin-headed dolt of a prince!” Puss said, his back arching and his hair sticking up.

  “Please, no,” Gabrielle said, shoving the key into Gretel’s hands before running to join Hansel at the door. She watched with mounting horror as the witch thumped up the hill to her cottage, leading a dazed and addled Crown Prince Steffen on a rope leash. She tied the prince’s rope to a chocolate tree near her cottage and started stoking a fire in her outdoor oven. When she finished, she tottered into her house, cackling with glee.

  Horror and terror bit into Gabrielle lik
e fangs. Steffen had been captured. The calmness she had always been able to keep, even in chaotic and dangerous situations like the present, crumpled like a paper lantern. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest, beating faster than ever. “Why would he do such a foolish, idiotic—” she cut her sentence short when she remembered the children crowded around her. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t. She needed to keep her wits about her.

  “Lady Gabrielle? Everyone has been freed,” Gretel said.

  Gabrielle took several deep breaths—this time not minding the pungent scent of fox as it helped ground her—and closed her eyes as she recalculated her plan. “The witch wasn’t keeping any children with her in the cottage, was she?”

  “No,” Hansel said.

  “Good. The plan has changed a bit. Hansel and Gretel, I want you two to lead the children and follow Puss to a safe spot far away from the witch. After I free Steffen, we’ll catch up, and we’ll all return to Kinzig together,” Gabrielle said.

  “That is a terrible jest, Mistress,” Puss said, still sitting next to the window pane. “I’ll not leave you here alone.”

  “We don’t have a choice. We have to free Steffen,” Gabrielle said.

  “Don’t be a fool. He has dozens of guards. Some of them must have followed him here. They will save him,” Puss said.

  “I won’t take that risk,” Gabrielle said.

  Puss jumped from the windowsill. “Just because he is a prince doesn’t mean you need to risk your neck for him.”

  “I’m not doing this because he’s a prince. I’m doing it because—I don’t need to explain why I’m doing it!”

  Puss stared at her, unnerving her. “We will discuss this later. For now, I will lead these snot-nosed brats away, but you will not move until I return. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Perfectly,” Gabrielle said.

  Puss turned his attention to the village children, who had stopped crying to stare at Puss in awe. “You, wretched urchins, will remain silent. If I hear even a peep out of any of you, I shall chop you all up into mincemeat! Now, make your exit from here one by one and gather behind the stable; we shall enter the woods there and make our way south.”