Puss in Boots (Timeless Fairy Tales Book 6)

by K. M. Shea

  “I know,” Steffen said. “Can you make all of us invisible, Puss?”

  “Oh, so now that you want something, you use my name,” Puss said, jumping a branch.

  “Puss,” Gabrielle said.

  “I’m not that powerful. Covering Gabrielle and myself is my limit. I’m sorry,” Puss said,

  “Should we split up?” Gabrielle asked.

  A goblin arrow shot past her, shattering when it hit Alwin’s helm-covered head. “Only if we’re desperate.” Alwin’s flat voice held a note of grimness.

  Moritz swung around, an arrow nocked in his bow, and shot in one smooth movement. The arrow must have found its target, for somewhere behind them a goblin screamed, making Gabrielle shiver.

  “We’re slowing down.” Puss’s eyes narrowed as he loped along.

  “The refugees. They haven’t much stamina,” Dominik said.

  Gabrielle looked over the rescued commoners. All of them were frightened, pale, scratched up, and bruised. “Puss and I will be the rearguard. We’ll face our followers and catch up.”

  “No,” Steffen said.

  “It’s the best plan. Together we can be a regular nightmare,” Gabrielle said.

  “We are a perfect match,” Puss said, his voice humble in spite of the proud words.

  “I’m staying with you,” Steffen said, slowing from a jog to a walk.

  “Kronprinz,” Alwin started, also slowing down. Moritz lingered with him. The rest of the soldiers and refugees kept moving.

  “Take the refugees back to Jagst and warn my father, in case the outpost decides to launch an attack. Those are your orders.”

  Alwin flattened his lips, and Moritz shook his head.

  “I said those are your orders. Go!” Steffen growled.

  Moritz glared at Steffen and shot an incoming goblin. Alwin bowed to Steffen and ran after the rescue party, Moritz reluctantly following him.

  “Are you sure about this, Your Highness?” Puss asked.

  “There are five other princes behind me. Should the worst happen, the country will survive. More importantly, Moritz took out two goblins; that means we have a minimum of ten incoming.”

  “Puss,” Gabrielle said, bending over.

  “Coming.” Puss grunted when he leaped onto her shoulder. As soon as the pads of his paws touched her, the gelatinous feeling of Puss’s invisibility spell covered Gabrielle.

  Steffen darted behind a bush just as the first three goblins veered near. Gabrielle caught the first one by surprise, landing a killing blow. The second goblin—looking wildly about for the invisible foe—was just as easy to take out. The last hurtled in her direction, spear extended.

  Puss leaped from her shoulder and landed on the goblin’s face, howling and scratching him until Steffen sank a dagger into the creature’s back.

  They didn’t have enough time to regroup for the next surge of goblins—the remaining seven.

  Puss took out the first two with sleep charms, and Steffen downed another with daggers.

  Gabrielle kicked out at a goblin—hitting him square in the face—and brought her sword down on its head.

  Steffen grabbed a spear from one goblin, knocked it on its back, and killed it. Gabrielle parried three blows from another, then she screamed and pointed behind the fiend. The goblin turned, and she hit him in the neck with the flat of her sword—tossing him to the ground—before braining him with the pommel. Puss tried to charm the last goblin, but it was so distraught it ran into a tree—knocking itself out.

  “Is that all of them?” Gabrielle asked. Winded, she leaned up against a tree for support.

  “I think so, but we had better wait a minute or two, in case of stragglers,” Steffen said, fixing himself in the shadow of a large tree.

  “Why is there such a big outpost here? I can’t believe it’s allowed! Why haven’t any magic users done something about it?” Gabrielle asked. She slipped between a shrubbery twice her height and a tree, hiding herself.

  “It’s all about borders and laws,” Puss said, his eyes glowing as he peered through the forest. He didn’t bother to hide but meandered in Gabrielle’s direction.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It wasn’t a surprise that the ogre slaughtered the family that owned Carabas. The Marquis of Carabas was a twisted man. The land was already turning sour under him,” Steffen said.

  “Which made it a prime target for evil creatures—like the ogre—to flood it. Under the ogre’s squatting, more darkness has come to Carabas—like the candy cottage witch and the goblins,” Puss said. “Darkness will always seek out darkness so it can—not only survive—but become stronger in an environment that will nurture it.”

  “Why didn’t anyone do anything?” Gabrielle asked, pushing a leafy branch away from her face.

  “Many tried…and failed,” Steffen said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  “Heroics aren’t always as straightforward as one thinks,” Puss said. “There are heroes, like Prince Rune, who do good deeds for mankind. All that is required to be such a hero is bravery, intelligence, and usually physical prowess. But sometimes, just any hero isn’t enough. Sometimes a certain type of person is needed to triumph over a particular trial or evil.”

  “Someone even stronger than a hero?” Gabrielle asked. “Like a magic user?”

  “Not necessarily,” Puss said. “It’s like the old legends—the Snow Queen, or the girl with the glass coffin. They were the heroes needed at that exact time. No one else could have saved Verglas as the Snow Queen did. ”

  Gabrielle crouched in her bush, wincing when a thorny branch scraped her arm. “And you think Carabas needs such a hero?”

  “I don’t think. I know,” Puss said.

  “The cat might be right. Whenever someone tries to break Carabas free, they fail. It’s like the place is cursed—from all the bloodshed and twisted selfishness.” He started down the path. “It seems we are free for now. I think we can catch up.”

  Gabrielle slipped from her uncomfortable hiding place, slow to follow. Puss trotted on her heels.

  “Puss?”

  “Hm?”

  “You think that Carabas is special, and you believe that I—the selfish daughter of a miller whose main goal in life is to have an adventure—can free it?” Gabrielle asked.

  “I do,” Puss said. “I don’t know if there is such a thing as fate, but you were born for a time such as this. You might think yourself a mere peasant out on an adventure, but you have turned the tide of the northern villages. You have brought hope—without possessing a scrap of magic or years of combat training. You are the hero Carabas desperately needs—a child of the land with the heart of a lion and the impudence to steal and gamble against evil.”

  “Who also has a magic cat,” Gabrielle smiled.

  “Indeed,” Puss sniffed.

  “Alright.” Gabrielle locked her legs. “We’re going.”

  Puss twitched his whiskers in joy. “Excellent.”

  “Right now.”

  “What? You’re mad.”

  “Yes, I just might be.”

  “Good. You’re learning,” Puss said. “What will you say to the bumpkin-head?” Puss nodded at Steffen, who finally realized the two had fallen far behind and was jogging back to them.

  “What’s wrong?” Steffen asked.

  “I can’t go back yet,” Gabrielle said.

  “Why?”

  “There’s something Puss and I have to do.”

  Steffen looked back and forth between the two. He tucked his chin—getting ready to argue.

  Gabrielle reached out to touch his hand. “Please, Steffen.”

  Steffen was rigid for a few moments before he sighed and the fight went out of him. “Fine. Your cat would probably lay a sleeping charm on me if I tried to stop you. Be careful when you torch the place. We’ve gotten rid of a dozen goblins, but there are still at least thirty-five left.”

  It’s just as well he thinks that’s what I’m going back for. He would k
nock me out if he knew the truth. “It’s Puss and me. We’ll be fine.”

  Steffen frowned at her—a real frown that cast a troubled light on his handsome features.

  “We will be fine, Your Highness. We’re a capable team,” Puss said.

  “I know. But I wish…” Steffen sighed and shook his head. “Be careful,” he repeated, squeezing Gabrielle’s hand.

  The gesture made her blush. Remembering their discussion in Kinzig, Gabrielle averted her eyes and pulled her hand from his. “We will. Puss, do you know which way to go?”

  “Of course. Who do you think I am? That stray cat that’s growing fat in the kitchens of The Turtle & Doves?” Puss scoffed. He trotted east, his tail raised in the air.

  “Don’t pick on her. I think she’s pretty—and sweet,” Gabrielle said, hurrying after him. She paused long enough to wave at Steffen before she picked up Puss.

  “Perhaps, if one doesn’t mind that she is as stupid as a stump,” Puss said.

  “That’s unfair. You’re comparing her to you. You’re a magic cat; you’re a different species.” Gabrielle cuddled him close.

  “Now I recall why you are my mistress. You are astoundingly observant,” Puss said. “Hold on to me. I’m turning us invisible.”

  “Yes, Puss.”

  Steffen watched Gabrielle disappear and stared at the spot he had last seen her long after she and her dratted cat fell out of hearing range.

  It took every ounce of his self-control to hold himself back. He wanted to go sprinting after her to make sure she didn’t break her foolish neck. Even more so, he wanted to toss her in a room in Castle Brandis and lock her in, never to run around like a swashbuckling hero again—never to risk her life again.

  “I’m the crown price,” he reminded himself, clenching his jaw. It is acceptable to play hero when rescuing my people, but it is unacceptable to chase after a capable hero-girl and her magical cat, unnecessarily risking my life.

  Every part of Steffen screamed at him to follow her. His heart thundered in his chest, and his muscles tensed as he stared down Gabrielle’s path. But there were some things royalty didn’t have the luxury to do—no matter how strongly they wished it.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. He forcibly turned his body, every part of his being echoing a feeling of wrongness. Just when he was about to follow after his men and the refugees, he heard tramping through underbrush.

  Steffen ducked down, hiding under a massive fern. A group of ten forest goblins eased into view about a stone’s throw away. They were hurrying, their path leading them in the direction into which Gabrielle had disappeared. Their path would intersect with hers in minutes if they did not deviate.

  Puss has the invisibility spell. They’ll run right past her. Steffen tried to talk himself out of his actions as he unsheathed his sword and eased out from under the fern. Besides, she’s smart enough to look for scout parties. He took a few steps in their direction. She’ll hear them coming, like I did…but…

  I don’t care.

  Steffen sprinted for the goblins, keeping trees between them until he caught up.

  I’m risking my life—and abandoning my responsibilities as the crown prince—for the sake of a girl who could probably fend off the goblins just fine. But that didn’t matter, he realized. He would gladly shirk his duties as a prince and run headfirst into terrible odds, as long as she wasn’t hurt! Steffen swung his sword, taking down the first goblin.

  He took out the second the same way, but by then, the goblins realized what was happening. They turned and piled in his direction, overwhelming him by sheer numbers.

  Steffen parried a blow from a black sword and took a hit from a club on his back. He pitched forward, but he took one goblin down with him, and finished it off with a dagger. He rolled out of the way of a spear, and popped upright, cutting another goblin down.

  One goblin opened a deep, nasty wound on his thigh with an axe that sliced straight through his linen pants. Steffen chopped at the enemy with his sword, disarming and killing it before another goblin clubbed him on the head.

  He crashed to his knees, vision blurring. He heard a movement behind him and shifted just in time to avoid a stab at his kidneys—although it sliced through the leather of his uniform and nicked his hip.

  Steffen thrust his sword up, blocking another blow. By sheer luck, he fended off another swing and stabbed his sword into the goblin’s foot.

  The goblin shrieked loud enough to wake the dead, and a gold lance took him down.

  Rune.

  Steffen’s golden-haired, hazel-eyed, storybook prince of a brother—burst through the trees, riding a horse. The horse reared, smacking a goblin in the head and tossing it to the ground like a ragdoll.

  The remaining goblins shrieked—realizing they were beat—and ran through the forest.

  “I’ll be just a moment,” Rune said, arming his crossbow.

  Steffen watched him ride off, and for the first time in his life he was envious of his little brother. If Steffen had been a middle son, he would have trained for adventures—not for ruling. Not that he was even remotely interested in being the country’s hero. He wasn’t. But if he were, he would be free. Free to chase after spitfire adventurers who owned magic cats.

  But that didn’t matter either. It’s not like I’m in love with her, Steffen thought. I am not such a simpleton to think that—even were such a thing possible—it would happen over the four or five short days I have interacted with Gabrielle. He shook his head and rocked back so he was sitting instead of crouching on his knees. “Better off not thinking about it.”

  “Steffen—what happened?”

  Steffen winced and looked up to see his baby sister—Fürstin Elise. “Elise? What are you doing here?” For a moment, it was impossible to breathe. In spite of his worries, Gabrielle was competent and had a magic cat. Elise, however, was all but defenseless. A goblin-infested woods was the last place she should be.

  “Rune decided to bring me with him to get me out of the castle,” Elise said, squatting in front of Steffen. She paled as she inspected his wounds.

  After observing her stricken look, Steffen attempted to distract her. “Is Falk being mean again?”

  “Never mind that! What can I do to help you? Should your head wound be wrapped?” Elise dabbed at the blood on his face with the white handkerchief she clutched in her shaking hands.

  “I’m fine. Just a few scratches,” Steffen said, purposely downplaying his leg wound—which bled too much for his comfort.

  “A few scratches? You’re grievously injured!” Elise’s eyes were wide with worry, and she ran a hand through her wild curls. “I don’t know how to treat you, either—I never thought I would need medical knowledge. That is an unacceptable oversight.”

  “I don’t think anyone in our family ever wished you would ever have a need for such skills. Why are you here, though? Rune should have left you in Jagst, that stupid puppy.”

  Elise shook her head. “Rune has a medical pack. Can you wait for his return, or should I shred a part of my dress to staunch the blood flow of your leg wound?”

  Steffen grunted and tried to shift—stopping immediately when pain shredded his aspiration. “Tell me why you’re here first, please.”

  “We haven’t been there yet. One of Father’s guards caught us on the road. Rune decided to come straight here,” his foster-sister said, tapping her lip in thought.

  “He could have left you with the guard.” Steffen furrowed his eyebrows, growing irritated with his brother.

  “It would have been a wiser tactical move, but I begged to come.” Elise peered at Steffen’s leg wound before nodding in decisiveness. “We shouldn’t wait any longer; I’ll shred my dress. Although I need to be certain I use a clean part…”

  “I’ll smack him when he gets back,” Steffen said. “It’s one thing for Rune to risk his own scrawny neck. It’s another for him to drag you into it.”

  “It appears I’m not the only one who risked his
scrawny neck, brother,” Rune said, securing his crossbow on his mount as the animal pranced through the trees. “What possessed you to take on so many goblins alone?”

  “There were only ten, and they’re stupid. Mind your lessons and education better, and you would know that,” Steffen grunted. He considered pushing himself into a standing position but found that he couldn’t. His legs felt like lead weights, and his ears rang.

  “Rune, I need the medical pack…wait…I beg your pardon. You attacked the goblins, Steffen?” Elise asked.

  Steffen sighed and shot his younger brother an irritated look. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

  “I disagree. If you attacked ten goblins alone, I fear there is something wrong with your head.” She eyed his head wound.

  “Where is your horse?” Steffen blurted, anxious to sidetrack her before she or Rune could further press him about his unusual actions.

  “I rode with Rune.” Elise stood and approached Rune’s horse.

  “Oh did you?” Steffen said, swiveling to pin down his little brother with a dark glare that made the younger prince shift in his saddle. “For the whole journey?”

  “Yes. I don’t…Rune said I was light enough that his steed wouldn’t notice the extra weight,” Elise said, peering into a saddle bag. Rune’s horse swatted its tail, and she flinched.

  “Did he? How kind of him. I shall have to commend your kindness later, Rune. In private,” he said, finishing his sentence internally: with a club.

  Elise was off the marriage market until she expressed an interest, but that didn’t mean Steffen’s younger brothers—hammer-head-Rune and Falk-the-incompetent-compliment-giver—weren’t attempting to squirm their way into her heart. Most days, Rune succeeded, but Steffen was starting to wonder if the young prince would accidentally banish himself into the friendship realm with the way he fawned over her.

  There was no fear of that with Falk; he was as charismatic as a cow-pie.

  “Steffen, would you stop talking and mind your wounds? We have to staunch the blood flow!” Elise said, searching through another saddlebag.