by H. L. Burke
This is the woman who took my dragon, he thought. She is also the woman who has my princess.
Longing to bite her ankles, he slipped out from under the bed. Before he could, she turned. He made it back to his hiding place, just in time. He held his breath as she poked around the room.
She knows where Clarice is. She can lead me to Clarice. I should get Snickersnout and the rats.
Before he could act, Ambrosia headed for the door. Afraid she would leave, and he wouldn’t be able to find her again, Thaddeus sneaked after her, his pawsteps silent.
Ambrosia never looked behind her. She glared at any servants that crossed her path and kept her nose in the air. Occasionally she mumbled to herself, terrible, angry sounding words.
Thaddeus stayed glued to her heels.
I’m coming, Clarice. I’ll save you, Grandious.
When Ambrosia climbed the stairs to Hermes’s tower, Thaddeus fell behind. He had to jump and scramble for a paw hold at every step. By the time he was a quarter of the way up, Ambrosia had disappeared into the room above. At the halfway point, Thaddeus collapsed. He took in deep breaths and regained his strength, but every muscle in his tiny body hurt.
When this is over, I’m going to nap for a week, he decided.
Before he could get up, he heard the click of Ambrosia’s high-heeled shoes upon the stairs above him. Thaddeus’s ears flattened. He had no where to hide. Desperate not to be seen and with her footsteps growing closer, he curled himself into the tightest ball he could and cowered at the base of the step.
Her steps became louder. He could hear the boards creaking under her weight. Then, with the swish of long skirts and the soapy smell of rosewater perfume, she glided over him and continued on without looking back.
Relief flooded through the kitten, but even so he didn’t dare to uncurl until the door had shut behind her. He glanced up then down. Should he chase after her or investigate the wizard’s room? Some instinct told him to continue his climb.
By the time Thaddeus reached the last step, he moved as slow as a slug. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and he longed to stretch out in front of it and sleep for days. He somehow managed to hop up on the chair, then the workbench, and then look about the room.
No Clarice.
No Grandious . . . though he supposed the dragon wouldn’t fit in the room anyway.
He sat down to think. Should he try and find Snickersnout? Perhaps the rat would have had more luck. Also, where could you hide a dragon? Dragons were huge. Unless. . . Thaddeus smacked himself with his paw. Of course, he’d completely forgotten about the glass sphere Ambrosia had lobbed at Grandious. If Grandious were still inside such a thing, he could be tucked in a drawer or even in Ambrosia’s pocket . . . or sitting on a shelf above the fireplace, practically staring the kitten in the face.
The two orbs sat, like sinister snow-globes, and within them beckoned not one but three familiar forms. Thaddeus plotted the best route: workbench, back of the chair, top of the book case, shelf. After three strong leaps, he landed beside the first globe. Clarice and Hermes waved up at him.
Thaddeus twitched his nose. He tapped the orb with his paw. He tried with his claws out, clink! Still solid. He circled the orb three times, licked it, then, growing annoyed, gave it a good push onto the floor.
The sphere shattered, and Hermes and Clarice sprang up, full sized once more.
“Mind the glass, Princess,” Hermes cautioned. “Good show, kitten. Good show!”
“Thaddeus!” Clarice cried out, reaching up towards him.
As much as Thaddeus longed to fall into her arms, he turned towards Grandious first.
“Hold it!” Hermes shouted when Thaddeus’s paw touched the second orb. “Not here. He won’t even fit in this room.” He reached up and tucked the orb into his pocket.
Thaddeus hissed at the wizard, who, after all, had been the cause of all this trouble.
“Thaddeus!” Clarice said again. Tears brimmed in the princess’s eyes, and Thaddeus’s throat tightened. He wished, just for one moment, he could speak like a human, to say how much he loved her and had missed her. Instead, he launched himself through the air and landed against her chest. She gripped him with her perfect little hands and held him tight. He pushed his nose against her face and into her hair and purred and purred and purred.
Thaddeus had forgotten how good Clarice felt. Being in her arms almost lulled him to sleep.
“My princess,” Hermes interrupted their happy reunion. “As much as I would like you to catch up with your kitten, my niece could return any minute. I don’t know quite what has come over her, but in her current mood she is dangerous. Perhaps it would be safer if we left the palace for now.”
For a moment Thaddeus hoped Clarice would agree, that they’d all run off to Grandious’s cavern, and live there happily ever after: princess, kitten, and dragon. Wizard too, if Hermes promised to behave. Then he glanced up and saw Clarice’s lower lip shaking.
“But what about Father?” she asked, big tears brimming in her eyes. “I can’t leave him here with that awful woman.” Her fingers tightened around Thaddeus.
Hermes’s nose twitched, and he stroked his beard. “I suppose you are right. We really can’t let her marry him. No, that won’t do at all.” He paced to the window. “Unfortunately, Ambrosia’s magic is easily as strong as my own. We need a plan if we are to best her.”
“Pst!” a voice hissed. “Pet!”
Clarice did not react to the sound, for the speaker used the language of animals. Thaddeus, however, wiggled up to peer over the princess’s shoulder. Snickersnout waved at him from the hatch.
“You found her. Good job, pet,” he said.
“Companion,” Thaddeus said, knowing that Clarice would hear it only as a meow.
Hermes narrowed his eyes. “By George, is that a rat?”
“Of course he’s a rat, for fish's sake. Does he look like a pony?” Thaddeus sniffed in contempt.
“No need to be sarcastic, young Thaddeus,” Hermes said. “I was surprised, not confused.”
Thaddeus nearly fell off Clarice’s shoulder, and Snickersnout gaped. Even Clarice’s dainty brows pinched together.
Hermes laughed. “I’m a wizard. Animal tongue is hardly beyond me.”
Clarice gazed at the wizard in awe. “You can speak to Thaddeus?”
“Yes, though I’m sorry to say, I haven’t always listened to him.” Hermes smiled sadly. “He is truly a brave and extraordinary cat. He also has surprising friends.”
Clarice shuddered as Snickersnout skittered across the floor. He stood on his hind legs and bowed to her. She gave a weak smile.
“My men are watching the sorceress,” Snickersnout said. “She slipped a potion into the pudding that will be served tonight.”
Hermes nodded. “I watched her mix that. It is a forgetfulness potion. She means to have the whole palace forget the princess, so she can have the king all to herself. Oh, Ambrosia, how low you have stooped! Well, let us hurry. How many rats are under your command?”
“Twenty at present, though more should soon arrive.” Snickersnout raised his paw to his forehead in a salute. Thaddeus resisted an urge to roll his eyes. Snickersnout seemed to think he'd been transformed into a prince already with palace manners to match.
“I am sure the court is already eating dinner. We must hurry and stop them before dessert.” Hermes took the princess’s hand. “Seeing you should be enough to snap your father out of her influence. Once he sees past her lies, I can have the guards remove her from the palace.”
“Just in case, Snickersnout,” Thaddeus said, “please make sure the pudding is not served tonight.”
The rat grinned. “Easy as lies.” His tail snapped like a whip as he spun around and disappeared from the room.
“Let’s hurry!” Clarice urged. “I want to see my father.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rampage of Rats
Ambrosia sat at the head of the table and admired the sh
ining silverware and gleaming china. Being queen would be fine indeed.
King Victor pushed his food around his plate. The guests watched his every move, for the dessert would not be served, and they could not be dismissed, until the king had finished.
“I wish Clarice could’ve joined us for dinner,” he said, taking a tiny bite of his fish.
Ambrosia forced a pleasant smile. “I told you, dear, she had fallen asleep among her toys. I had her tucked in. It would have been a shame to wake her.”
The king sighed. “I suppose, but I wanted to see her. I haven’t spoken with her at all . . . achoo! . . . today!”
Several of the court members mumbled half-hearted “bless yous,” but most were weary of it. In fact, about half of those at dinner had their own nasal issues. They whimpered, wheezed, and dabbed at their noses with nasty looking, already over-used handkerchiefs.
Ambrosia rolled her eyes. What a court she’d chosen. When she became queen, she would outlaw sneezing.
Finally the king made it through the last bites of fish. Servants whisked his plate away, and Ambrosia smiled slyly.
“Dessert, please,” she said. “You must try this pudding, my dear. I had it made specially for you.”
“I’m not that hungry.” He took a sip from his goblet and sniffled. “Perhaps I should turn in for the night. Tomorrow is a big day, with the wedding and all.”
She touched his wrist. “You must at least try it, for my sake.” She batted her eyes at him.
He smiled, that ridiculous lovestruck look creeping into his eyes again. “I suppose a few bites won’t kill me.”
“I’m sure after one bite you’ll be quite satisfied with it,” Ambrosia said. One bite, after all, would be enough to get the potion into his system.
The waiters circled the table, passing out dishes filled with rich, chocolate pudding topped with curlicue shavings of white chocolate. Ambrosia admired hers, but did not intend to take a bite. She knew what it contained. It would not do for her to forget.
The whole court watched the king, for it was considered the worst of manners to take a bite before his royal highness.
The king raised his spoon, brought it to his lips, and . . .
“Ahchoo!”
Pudding sprayed everywhere.
“Bless you!” exclaimed the entire court.
“Are you coming down with a cold, dear?” Ambrosia asked with a snide raise of an eyebrow.
The king shook his head. “No, not . . . achoo . . . at all. . .achoo! Blast it, why can’t I stop sneezing?” He took up his spoon again.
Ambrosia’s fingers tightened about the tablecloth.
“Eeek!” a woman at the foot of the table shrieked.
All eyes turned to the noise.
Ambrosia tossed her napkin to the floor in disgust. “What now?” She sprang to her feet, and her jaw fell open.
A gray swarm of dirty, skittering rodents flooded through the doors, into the dining room, and onto the table. Several ladies and two men toppled over in dead faints.
The largest rat stood on his hind legs, squeaking out orders that Ambrosia, as a magician’s daughter, could understand.
“Get the pudding!” he yelled. Ambrosia's knees weakened. Not the pudding!
The rats leaped into pudding bowls, overturned pudding bowls, and sent pudding bowls clattering to the floor.
“Call the guards!” shouted a man.
“No, call the wizard!” screamed a lady.
“No, we need a cat!” suggested a small child, but nobody heard him because he was so short.
“What . . . ahchoo! . . .is happening to my palace?” The king stood and threw up his hands.
The large rat scurried up to Ambrosia and sat in the middle of her plate. With a grin he pushed her pudding to the floor. It splattered all over her favorite pink slippers. He then jumped up and down in the king's pudding. The king's face turned green.
“Daddy!” the princess’s voice stabbed into Ambrosia’s ears.
The rats fled under the table, sending the remaining dinner guests scrambling away.
“Clarice!” The king ran to his daughter and gathered her up in his arms.
No, no, no! Ambrosia thought. This isn’t happening. This can’t happen! I need to be queen!
Hermes entered, a disappointed frown on his annoying face. “Ambrosia, this is over. It is time for you to leave.”
“I don’t want to,” snarled Ambrosia.
Overwhelming rage burst in Ambrosia’s chest like a thousand boiling bubbles. So unfair. All she had ever wanted was to be a queen. So many classmates had become queens. Why not her? She had worked so hard and planned so carefully. If she couldn’t be queen of this castle, no one should be.
Fingers shaking, she reached into her sleeve. Unfortunately, she had not anticipated this last-minute attack on her carefully laid plans. Fortunately, she was always prepared for the unexpected. She pushed aside her extra Orb of Containment and reached for a special spell she'd made in case of an emergency. She gripped it hard. The princess wouldn't know what hit her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Burning
When King Victor rushed for his daughter, he hadn’t even noticed Thaddeus. Because of this, the kitten found himself flattened between father and daughter as they hugged. The position was hot and uncomfortable. Thaddeus tried to wiggle his way out, but could not.
Finally, when the kitten thought he would suffocate, the king gave a forceful sneeze. He let go of the princess to wipe his nose, and Thaddeus slipped to the floor. He cowered under Clarice’s skirts, hoping the king would not have him banished again.
“What is going on?” the king asked.
“You can’t marry her, Daddy,” Clarice said. “She’s awful, just awful.”
“Shut up!” Ambrosia thundered.
Thaddeus stuck his head out from under Clarice’s hem. The evil woman’s eyes glinted like hot coals and her mouth turned down in an ugly sneer. Somehow she seemed to grow taller. She pointed a long, pale finger at the king.
“You will marry me or your kingdom will burn,” she growled.
The king sneezed then cleared his throat. “Those can’t be the only options.”
Ambrosia’s eyes widened, and she gave a long, shrill shriek. Everyone in the room, even the rats, winced and covered their ears.
Victor stepped towards her. “Lady Ambrosia, I don’t think this is going to work out.”
Hermes held up his hands. “Please listen to reason, my dear. I would prefer not to use my magic to subdue you.”
Ambrosia cackled. “Oh Uncle, don’t make me laugh.”
“Apparently, I already did.” Hermes frowned. “Princess, your highness, get behind me.”
Clarice scooped up Thaddeus who gripped into her. He wanted everything back to normal. Hopefully Hermes would be able to do his job for a change.
“I had hoped to avoid this unpleasantness.” Ambrosia reached into her long sleeve and pulled out a small velvet sack. “This is my own concoction: powdered potion of poodle. Observe.” She took a pinch from the bag and flung it across the room. The particles hung like specks of dust in the air. Hermes inhaled them and gave a great sneeze. Beside him the king and princess also burst out with, “Ahchoos!”
Then, in an eye-blink, they shrank down into miniature balls of puffy fur.
No longer in Clarice’s arms, Thaddeus fell onto the table. He glanced down at the three toy poodles, none of which appeared much bigger than himself.
The poodle who had been Clarice gave a frightened yip. The wizard’s long robes remained untransformed and now lay in a heap beneath the three poodles. In that pile of cloth, Thaddeus spied the crystal ball with the twisting, wriggling green dragon inside.
Ambrosia giggled. “I’ve always preferred poodles to cats . . . though apparently kittens are immune to poodle powder. No matter. You’re even more useless as a kitten than you would be as a poodle.”
Thaddeus hissed at her. “I’m ten times more useful t
han any poodle.”
“If by useful, you mean annoying.” Ambrosia rolled her eyes. She eyed the king. “Now, your royal poodle-ness, if you wish to be unpoodled, you must give me your castle and crown.”
Clarice ran forward, yipping, and Ambrosia kicked her away. Clarice slid across the marble floor, her four paws sprawling. The other two poodles howled in protest, but were too tangled up in the robes to move.
Thaddeus’s fur stood on end. “Don’t hurt my princess!” he meowed.
Claws bared, Thaddeus sprang. He collided against Ambrosia’s neck and climbed up to her perfectly styled hair. Bobby pins flew everywhere as she flailed for him, but Thaddeus held on for all he was worth.
“Ah-Ha!” Ambrosia shouted, catching him by the tail.
She swirled him over her head. Thaddeus shrieked, convinced his tail was about to pop right off. He scrambled, trying to sink his claws into her hand. She released him, and he flew in a high arc across the dining room and crashed into the chandelier.
Thaddeus barely managed to grab onto the swaying light fixture. Candles tilted and fell, knocking into him. The scent of singed fur wafted towards him, but he ignored it and held on.
“This is all your fault!” Ambrosia snarled up at him. She grabbed a butter knife and flung it in his direction. It stuck in the dripping wax of a candle, quivering like Thaddeus’s tail. The heat from the candles felt uncomfortably close. A fork clattered inches from his head, and he gave out a warning hiss.
“Stop it, witch, for fish's sakes, or I’ll. . . I’ll . . .”
“You’ll what? Meow at me?” Ambrosia chuckled.
Thaddeus scanned the room for possible allies. All the non-poodled humans had fled, and of the three poodles, only Clarice had shaken her befuddlement enough to try anything. Hermes and the king just sat there, their expressions stupid even by dog standards.
A shadow caught Thaddeus’s eye. Snickersnout! The rat crept from under the tablecloth, eyes glinting. Thaddeus had to keep Ambrosia’s gaze from the rat king.
The kitten meowed: