Merlin's Misfortune

by Hearn, Shari

  Text copyright ©2015 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Jana DeLeon. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original The Miss Fortune Series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Jana DeLeon, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Merlin’s Misfortune

  A Miss Fortune Kindle Worlds Novella

  Written by

  Shari Hearn

  Cover by Susan Coils at www.coverkicks.com

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  PROLOGUE

  Dear Readers

  Once upon a time…

  Yeah, not a very creative beginning to a story. But I’m a cat. Cut me some slack, would you? I have no opposable thumbs, so the fact I’m able to get anything on paper is something worthy of an ear rub.

  I said, worthy of an ear rub. Can you not take a hint? That’s right… higher… higher… higher.

  Ahh… there you go.

  Okay, now stop. I’ve had enough.

  Now, where was I?

  Oh yes, once upon a time, say, five weeks ago, there was a young lady named Fortune—human, not furry—who came to a town called Sinful. She was a CIA assassin hiding out from a very bad man, and was told to keep a low profile. Bottom line is, she didn’t. She met two shadowy old broads by the names of Ida Belle and Gertie, and since then she’s been embroiled in one mystery after another.

  But the most important thing about her story is when she met me. She thought our meeting was by accident. I came around begging for food and she took pity on me, took me in and named me Merlin. Fine. I’ll let her believe that’s what happened. But Fortune Redding’s not the only one with a secret. I’ve got one of my own. And those two old broads and the Sinful Ladies Society who think they run the town? We let them think that.

  Who are we? We’re the cats of the Sinful Feline League, or SFL for short. We’re the ones who really run this town, and have been doing so for generations. Sometimes we lend the Sinful Ladies a paw without them having a clue we were even involved. Sometimes we need their help, and play them like puppets, getting them to do exactly what we want.

  And then there are times when it’s a little of both.

  This is a story about one of those times.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Merlin

  The sound of her airboat signaled her return. Finally. I had spent the better part of the last hour listening to the meows of Buffy, the cute little tabby, outside of my window, calling me to an emergency meeting at the headquarters of the Sinful Feline League. The one day Fortune forgot to leave the pet door open, and it had to be this one.

  I stood impatiently in front of the back door, tapping my paws on the kitchen floor.

  Calm down, I reminded myself. Don’t let her know something’s up. But Fortune Redding was a trained CIA operative; it was her business to detect when something was up. And I was new to the spy life, having only been inserted into Fortune’s house two weeks ago.

  She was outside the door now, sticking the key into the lock. Turning the knob. A quick pivot around her legs and I’d be free.

  The door opened a few inches.

  Wider! Wider!

  “Hey, Merlin. Just the one I wanted to see.”

  Her right foot extended forward, nudging me backward. I swiveled to the left, hoping to squeeze around, but she was too quick, closing the gap with her leg. Using both feet now, she shuffled in, pushing me back into the kitchen. It happened so quickly I didn’t have time to make my break. Before I knew it, Fortune was inside, holding a paper grocery bag. The door was now closed.

  I was her prisoner, once again.

  She shook the bag. “I brought something home for you from Walter’s.” She tossed her boat keys on the kitchen counter.

  “I’m kind of in a hurry,” I said, my tail swishing across the floor. “I have to go help save the cats of Sinful.”

  She couldn’t understand me, of course, mastery of animal languages not being one of her many talents. Thinking a good rub against her legs might appease her, I completed three rub-byes then raced to the door and plopped myself in front of it. For God’s sake, I thought, even she should be able to interpret this.

  “I don’t think you’re going to want to leave when you see what I brought home,” she said, cooing like all humans do when they talk to cats. She placed the grocery bag on the floor.

  Then you don’t know me very well, lady. I was a cat on a mission, and nothing could stop me from answering the call to duty. Not tuna. Not soft and chewy chicken treats shaped like hearts. Not even a paper bag on the kitchen floor. Nothing.

  Except…

  I sniffed. The aroma was unmistakable.

  Catnip? I gulped. Yes, cats do gulp.

  “It’s catnip,” she said gleefully. “I dumped an ounce of it in the bottom of the bag. Have at it, Merlin.”

  My paws froze, glued to the floor, my brain a battlefield of thoughts colliding into one another as the sweet aroma of catnip danced seductively into my nostrils.

  Walk away, Merlin.

  Just one hit, Merlin.

  It’s the devil’s weed, Merlin.

  One hit’s not gonna hurt… Mer… what’s my name again?

  The next few seconds were a blur. Or maybe it was an hour. A lifetime, perhaps? It felt like a million ear rubs happening at once. Tuna served in a crystal bowl. A soft bed under a thousand warm suns. And if it wasn’t for her smug laughter snapping me out of my catnip-induced trance, I would have stayed inside that bag forever.

  “I knew you’d like it,” Fortune said.

  It took every ounce of strength I could muster, but I managed to pull myself out of the bag, dried catnip clinging to my fur. I needed to get out of that kitchen fast. It was time for Plan B. I doubled over and forced myself to heave.

  “Oh no you don’t,” she said, racing to the door and flinging it open. “You are not tossing a hairball on my kitchen floor. Out!”

  I was free.

  * * * * *

  Despite how hard I tried to get it out of her, Buffy wouldn’t reveal why I was being summoned.

  “Curiosity killed the cat,” she kept saying, smiling as if she had just swallowed a canary. The earthy smell of her breath told me that could have been a possibility.

  We approached the SFL headquarters, a shed owned by old lady Fuselier, who had the mistaken notion that she owned Lula Mae, an 18-year-old calico and current Supreme Commander of the SFL.

  “You might want to shake off some of that catnip before you go in,” Buffy said, sniffing the air around me. “The old broads have a zero-tolerance policy.”

  “It’s that obvious?” I had tried rolling around in the grass after I left Fortune’s house to get the dried catnip flakes and scent off my fur. Guess I hadn’t done such a great job.

  “Here, let me help,” she said, drawing closer. She stuck her beautiful tongue out and licked my neck. I tingled as she moved up to my face.

  “So, are you licking me because you want the catnip, or do we have something going on here, Buffy?” We’d been flirting back and forth since I joined the SFL a month ago.

  Her tail curled around her, brushing
against my paws. “Maybe a little of both?”

  We gazed into one another’s eyes until…

  “We don’t have all day, Merlin! Get your scrawny cat butt in here!” It was Lula Mae, and she didn’t sound happy.

  “Later,” I said to Buffy as I scurried inside.

  It took a moment for my vision to adjust to the darkened shed, and when it did, the first thing I noticed was her glowing green eyes. Actually, just one glowing eye. She had lost her left eye during the Chihuahua Uprising of Ninety-Nine, long before I was born. What remained was an empty socket of overlapping furry skin sewn together and sloping inward.

  She was reclining on an old overstuffed chair. Although missing an eye, she still held the bragging rights to one of the finest calico coats this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Her eye twitched as it moved up and down, then sideways, inspecting me. Unfortunately, she didn’t need two eyes to put the fear of God into any creature on four legs.

  “You’re a little late, aren’t you, Merlin?”

  “Um… yes, ma’am.” I could feel my hind legs wobble. “But I have an excuse.”

  “Soldier, there are no excuses in this gal’s army. We are fighting a war. A war for our very existence, you got that?”

  I nodded. Personally, I thought Lula Mae tended toward the dramatic. Last week the war for our very existence turned out to be a Maltese puppy that moved in next door to her. Hardly Armageddon.

  “Nice collar Fortune bought you. Camo. I like it.”

  I relaxed. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  But then she sniffed the air. Uh-oh.

  Lula Mae’s eye widened. She glanced at her sidekick, Spoolie, an ancient blue cream tortie with half a tail who was sitting on a stack of magazines next to Lula Mae’s chair. Spoolie claimed a Doberman was to blame for the amputation. But word in the alley was that Spoolie inflicted the injury herself, having mistaken her own tail for one of those cat toy wands.

  Spoolie jumped off the stack of magazines and sauntered my way. I was hoping the old gal’s sniffer wasn’t working so well today.

  “Don’t take this personally, Merlin,” Spoolie said as she sidled up next to me. “It’s my job.”

  I nodded, stiffening as she mashed her face against my rib cage and took a whiff. She then sniffed at my face, my neck, my tail, and places that I, quite frankly, thought she had no business sniffing. Based on her enlarged, glazed-over eyes, her sniffer was working fine.

  “Well?” Lula Mae asked.

  Spoolie pulled back from me, her eyes glassing over. A weird, Cheshire-cat grin formed on her face. “In my expert opinion… maybe I need another sniff.”

  She rammed her face up against my rib cage and took a huge whiff.

  “Spoolie! Get hold of yourself!” Lula Mae screamed. She nudged Spoolie away from me. “Shake it off!”

  Spoolie stood off to the side and coughed as if she had a massive hairball, but nothing came out. “I’m fine. I’m fine. That’s the stuff all right.”

  “But it was an accident,” I said. “I was trying to leave and Fortune dropped it in a bag on the floor for me.”

  Lula Mae’s tail twitched. Her one eye blinked. “Excellent.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “Of course you are.”

  And I think she liked it that I was confused.

  “This catnip, Merlin, is the reason you were summoned here today. Come on over here, soldier.” She flicked her head to the left. I followed her as she sauntered over to a clear patch of floor next to a stack of lumber. “Let’s discuss business over some munchies.”

  The carcasses of two large beetles, three butterflies, and a collection of moths and grasshoppers lay on the ground. My mouth watered.

  “Go ahead, they’re fresh, take your pick,” she said.

  I dove for the Monarch butterfly, savoring the combination of sweet body and pungent wings. Spoolie munched on a grasshopper.

  “So… Fortune was the one who gave you the catnip, huh?” Lula Mae asked.

  I nodded, helping myself to a beetle. “She said she bought it at Walter’s,” I said after swallowing.

  She smiled. “Good. I knew inserting you in Fortune’s house would be a good thing. I was hoping she might know something about it.” Her whiskers twitched. “This catnip… it’s bad, Merlin.”

  “Why would Fortune give it to me if it’s bad?”

  “She’s human, they don’t know,” Spoolie said, grasshopper legs dangling from her mouth.

  “I think they know exactly what they’re doing,” Lula Mae said.

  “I take it back. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Very bad. Very bad,” Spoolie said, shaking her head.

  Lula Mae’s tail swished back and forth, brushing a couple of moths my way. “It’s their way of controlling us.” She stood on her hind legs and flailed her paws in the air. “They want to get us hooked so we worship at their feet and wag our tails when they walk in the room. They want us docile, dumb and happy.” Her one eye zeroed in on my two eyes. “Dumb and happy, and worshipping at human’s feet? Sound like any species you know, Merlin?”

  I shrugged. “Dogs?”

  “Exactly! They want to turn us into dogs!”

  Spoolie began choking. Lula Mae reached her paw over and slapped her on the back. A half-digested grasshopper shot out of her mouth, landing at my feet. I lapped it up. What the heck, it was now a hot meal.

  “I told you not to swallow those things whole,” Lula Mae chided Spoolie. “Where was I? Oh, yes,” she said, turning back to me. “Given our superior intellect and mysterious ways, cats have been worshipped and treated like gods for millennia. And we haven’t had to do one thing in return. Oh, sure, perhaps we ate the rats that caused people disease, but rats are tasty, so, no big deal. Dogs, on the other hand, are stupid. They’ve had to work hard to get where they are. They’ve had to pull sleds, serve as burglar alarms, sniff luggage at airports. And yet, they’re still expected to beg for every scrap of attention they can get. It’s sickening to watch, really. Up till now humans haven’t figured a way to turn the tables so we cats worship them rather than them worshipping us. But this catnip could change all that, Merlin. It’s far worse than any we’ve sniffed. Ten times more powerful than those stale catnip-filled toys they shove in our stockings every Christmas. This is the real deal. We have to find it and destroy it.”

  It suddenly made sense. “You want me to spy on Fortune and see if she and The Sinful Ladies can lead me to the supplier of the catnip.”

  Lula Mae nodded. “You’re a smart kitten. You feel up to the assignment?”

  I hesitated. So far my duties had only been reporting conversations I’d overheard between Fortune, Ida Belle and Gertie. I’d never actually tried to manipulate Fortune into giving up any information. She was a trained CIA assassin. Just how far would cute and adorable get me?

  Lula Mae’s tail twitched. “You’re not afraid, are you, Merlin?”

  My whiskers bristled. I’d rather have my face dragged through stale litter than to be called afraid. And Lula Mae knew it. Her one eye danced in its socket, taunting me. I wanted to avert her gaze, but I held on. “Of course I’m not afraid. I’ll do it.”

  Lula Mae nodded. “I knew when I saw you that day in the alley you had potential.”

  My mind flashed back to that day six weeks ago when I rolled into town. A week shy of my first birthday, I had left my littermates in Mudbug to strike out on my own, and found myself stuck in the luggage compartment on a bus bound for Sinful. My first night here I had been feasting on some catfish in the dumpster behind Francine’s when I looked up and saw that one eye staring at me. She asked if I wanted to enlist in her army. To be all that I could be. To serve and protect. To boldly go where no cat had gone before. Her slogans struck a chord with me, so I said ‘yes.’

  “You’re our success story, Merlin. Through Fortune, you’ve come closest than any of my soldiers to actually infiltrating Ida Belle and Gertie’s operation.”

  Knowing how Ida Belle and
Gertie were the unofficial leaders of the human population of Sinful, both Lula Mae and Spoolie had tried years ago to worm their way inside those two women’s homes. But, like their mothers and grandmothers, and great-grandmothers before them, they had been unsuccessful. They struck gold when I was able to tug at Fortune’s heartstrings and infiltrate the inner sanctum.

  “It won’t be long before Fortune leads us to her dealer,” Lula Mae said, her whiskers twitching with excitement. “Any information, no matter how small, you are to report to me immediately. You got that?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Dismissed.” She plopped on the floor, lifted her leg straight up in the air, and began licking herself.

  I couldn’t help but stare. She might have been older than dirt, but dang, she had good balance.

  She stopped and pulled her gaze toward me. “When my leg comes up, that means we’re done here.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Fortune

  I picked up the bag of catnip off the floor and took a whiff. Did nothing for me, but the way Merlin was rolling around in it earlier, it was worth the five bucks an ounce to see it give him such a thrill.

  The sudden pounding on my front door cranked my pulse up a notch.

  “It’s Ida Belle, open up! It’s urgent!”

  I dropped the bag on the kitchen table and ran for the front door, reminding myself that everything tended to be urgent in Ida Belle’s world. It could be a dead body found on the banks of the bayou, or Francine ran out of bananas for this Sunday’s pudding.

  She and Gertie barreled in the second I turned the doorknob.

  “Pack your overnight bag,” Ida Belle said.

  “We have to leave,” Gertie added, catching her breath.

  “Crap, a hurricane? Give me five minutes to pack. And then I have to find Merlin.”

  I was halfway up the stairs when Ida Belle shouted, “Hurricane? Who said anything about a hurricane?”