Cats Triumphant (3 page)

Why shouldn’t she believe in a familiar’s familiar? She’d just spent the last two hours talking to a ghost. What could be weirder than that? Zoomer looked at her with feline insouciance. But why?

“All right, I’ll buy it,” Mira said. She threw her hands in the air. “I give up. What do
you
need a flea familiar for?”

As if in answer, the cat elevated slowly in the air until it hovered at eye level. Mira stared, astounded. Then, with an expression she could only call a smirk, Zoomer rose to the cabinet above the refrigerator, hooked it open with one paw, and knocked down the can of Petreats.

“Too haughty,” the black and white cat said. Marco swished his fluffy tail as prince after royal prince paraded, bowing and smirking, along the flagstone path past the Princess Briar Rose’s blue silk pavilion which stood in the shadow of her father’s castle. “Hmph! A dandy, with not a brain in his head! Oh, look, a barbarian! I can smell the horse’s blood on his spurs from here.”

Briar Rose, sixteen and beautiful as the flower of her name, sighed at the multitude of handsome men in silks and leather and gold coronets. With lips as red as rose petals and eyes as blue as the sky, Briar Rose had poets getting into fistfights to recite poetry about her glorious attributes. Her knee-length, barley-gold hair fell in silken waves around her molded cheeks, soft, white neck and creamy bosom. She leaned forward and put her pretty chin on her palm, gazing dreamily, and stroked the cat in her lap with her free hand. “But surely one of them would be a worthy husband.”

Marco turned his round green eyes up to the girl’s face. “Not worthy of you, my dear. Not one. Daffodil, Lavinia and Nocila would strike me blind if I let you choose any of these wretches.”

Briar Rose appealed to Bruno and Humberto. “What about you?” The brown hound and the gray mouse shook their heads.

“They don’t smell trustworthy,” Bruno said, putting one big paw on her lap.

“They admire themselves in the polished shields of the guards before they show themselves to you,” Humberto said. “They’re all as vain as Marco.”

The cat’s eyes narrowed, but he controlled himself. Briar Rose’s three fairy godmothers had placed him in charge of her well-being.

“A man, even a prince, worthy of marrying you,” he said, “must have all of the finest qualities. He must be brave, loving, trustworthy, loyal, kind, curious, resourceful and respectful as well as handsome.”

“Why, then,” Briar Rose laughed, lifting the cat and kissing him on the top of the head, “I’d end up marrying you!”

A large, black-haired man in red leather came to a halt at the door of the pavilion and scowled as he heard the princess speak. His expression quickly changed to a simpering smile as Briar Rose put the cat down on her lap and looked up. Marco growled a word of disapproval at his hypocrisy. Briar Rose gave the man a polite smile but no word of encouragement. With an angry look, the prince stalked away.

“Not a genuine prospect in the whole litter,” Marco said, and settled in, folding his white paws under his snowy white breast.

Briar Rose just stroked him and gazed out at the file of suitors. She could understand the speech of animals, a gift from her godmothers. The king and queen thought it was a fancy on her part, that she could speak to her companions. Bruno was hurt by their disbelief, but Marco had assured him it was better if they didn’t know such communication was possible. Animals would only tell the king and queen the truth about what they thought, and royal personages cannot stomach the truth. Briar Rose only listened to her parents because she had been taught respect by her guardians, the fairy godmothers who had protected her from the day of her christening sixteen years before, and by the three animals who lived in the forest cottage with them.

Marco well remembered the day the three good fairies had brought the infant princess home. Marco had been three then, and wise beyond his years. He’d watched with concern as Daffodil, Lavinia and Nocila had warded the house with their strongest spells. They had asked the three animals to help care for her, and they had accepted the task with love. Bruno, a large friendly puppy, had grown up to be her loyal protector, though he was not as well-furnished in the brain department as Marco. Humberto was clever with his small paws, helping the little princess to learn embroidery and fine thread work, though she was forbidden to spin. The fairies had explained that a curse had been laid on her at birth by the Black Fairy, Desdemona, and that Briar Rose was not to touch a spinning wheel or she would die. With all her other activities the girl scarcely missed spinning, so full was her life The godmothers had taught her to sing and read and dance, to cook and bake and brew, to garden and ride and swim, and simply to enjoy life. Briar Rose had been happy and well.

As all things come to an end, so did their peaceful years in the forest. Three weeks before her sixteenth birthday, the long-awaited summons had arrived from the King and Queen of Cadmonia. Two heralds and six men-at-arms had come to escort the Princess Briar Rose and her godmothers to the castle for the girl’s coming-of-age celebration. To the amazement of the men, Marco and his two companions went with them.

The king and queen welcomed their daughter’s strange entourage, and gave each of the animals a warm silk cushion on the floor in her chambers. Marco never occupied his. He slept, as he always had, on the princess’s own pillow beside her head, with one paw touching her hair.

The three animals found life in the castle as puzzling as its occupants must have found them. They did not like it that mice there were considered to be prey to cats and dogs alike. It was far better when the fairy godmothers’ animals organized the mice to keep down the bugs that were eating the tapestries and grain, and making the humans miserable in their beds. The cats turned to hunting garden pests instead of the household rodents. Dogs took more seriously their job of patrolling the castle and ceased bedeviling cats. In no time, all was running in harmony. The king had to admit that things had improved greatly since the arrival of the princess’s odd guardians.

Preparations for the coming of age party seemed also to be going smoothly. Invitations had gone out six months in advance to every one of the 24 other kingdoms on the continent, inviting every prince over the age of twelve to attend. Now that she was a grown woman, Briar Rose was expected to choose a husband. Since she was an only child, the prince who married her would be ruler of Cadmonia after her father’s death. There were no refusals. By seven days before the party, elegible suitors were pouring over the narrow isthmus of land that separated the peninsula on which Cadmonia sat from the rest of its neighbors.

The king and queen were determined not to repeat the mistake of the christening celebration. A special invitation had been sent out to all the kingdom’s fairies, but most especially to Desdemona. The miserable page who’d drawn the short straw of delivering hers returned much the worse for wear bearing a scorched piece of parchment with her acceptance. He hadn’t been able to speak since, and had been assigned a quiet chamber to himself high up in one of the distant towers of the castle.

The last of the princes paraded himself past the silk tent, then retired.

“Highness?” Daffodil asked, fluttering to the girl’s right shoulder. Fairies were smaller and usually plumper than ordinary humans and had wings on their shoulders. The yellow-clad godmother touched the girl on the hand. “The promenade of welcome is over. Come and change into your feast dress.”

Briar Rose picked up Marco in her arms and followed her godmother with alacrity into the White Tower where her chambers lay. Bruno and Humberto trotted along behind. “I’ve never seen such beautiful things, nor had so many dresses to wear. I hardly know what to do.”

“People will always tell you what to do,” Marco said, nestling close to her sweet-smelling hair. “It’s knowing what is proper for you to do that is difficult.”

“So what is proper for me?” Briar Rose asked, as violet-clad Lavinia and blue-clad Nocila helped her out of her cream-colored day dress and into the deep red feast gown.

“You are to marry a prince, and live happily ever after,” Marco said, playing with the laces of her bodice before Daffodil snatched them out of his claws and pulled them tight around the girl’s waist. The fairy godmothers finished fastening her dress and laid a crown of gold on her gleaming hair. Bruno looked up at her adoringly.

“You are so beautiful,” he said.

“Every detail perfect,” Humberto squeaked. “This will be your night of nights.”

Briar Rose knelt and impulsively gathered her three furry friends into her arms. “If anything would happen tonight to change our friendship, I would die,” she cried.

* * *

On a fanfare of trumpets, Briar Rose sailed into the great hall. Everyone at the open square of long trestle tables rose and bowed as she passed. The girl’s eyes shone as she beheld the brightly-colored tapestries and hangings depending from the rafters. Bunches, garlands and swags of roses decorated every table. Sweet scents and delicious aromas filled the air. Two gigantic sugarwork subtleties showing the princess as a flower nymph and as a queen enthroned in glory stood at the high table. Her father the king, whose long oval face and sweet, noble expression she had inherited, stood to the left of an empty chair with a high, carved back. Her mother, whose golden hair and large blue eyes were echoed so faithfully in her lovely daughter, stood to the right.

The three godmothers flitted along just above the floor to the head table. Their fellow fairies were seated in tall gilded chairs to the left of the king and his courtiers. Briar Rose curtsied to each one in turn. Marco saw the gaunt Black Fairy, Desdemona, her ebony cloak spread out around her like a filmy shadow. Briar Rose paid her an obeisance as she did to all the others. Marco went on guard as soon as he saw Desdemona. She paid him no mind, having as little respect for animals as she had for humans.

“Your majesties!” Daffodil announced as they came to the center of the grand table, her high voice pitched to reach every corner. “We are pleased to present your daughter, the Princess Briar Rose!”

Cheers and applause burst out throughout the room. The king and queen stretched out their hands. Blushing, the girl circled the table to take the seat of honor. As soon as she sat down, the room quieted.

“Let the feast begin!” the king announced.

Jesters and jugglers bounded out of the side halls to begin their capers in the empty square at the center of the room. Servers pushed in, carrying heavy platters of the finest meats and breads, pies and vegetables, fruits and salads. As soon as they’d stuffed a few chunks of meat in their mouths, Briar Rose’s suitors made excuses to approach and speak to her. A few, Marco observed, were rude enough to try and offer proposals of marriage on the spot. The king looked like thunder, but the girl had been well prepared by her guardians.

“I am honored by your offer,” Briar Rose said to each with cool sweetness, “but I must say no at this time. You must give me time to get to know you before I decide.”

Some of the princes took the refusals like gentlemen, but others glared openly at her. Marco noted who might be trouble later on. He kept close watch, vowing that nothing bad would happen to her while he observed.

But fate and physiology intervened. Even princesses occasionally have to use the necessary.

Humberto had been enjoying a bite of cheese when Briar Rose asked to be excused for a moment. Marco, seeing that the Black Fairy remained in her place, thought that all would be well. He nodded to the mouse to accompany the girl. Bruno looked up from the bone he was enjoying. When he saw Marco nod toward the Black Fairy, he went back to his gnawing.

* * *

“Are you sure this is the way?” Briar Rose asked Humberto, as he gave her directions through the endless stone corridors lit by torches and hanging lanterns.

“Oh, yes,” Humberto squeaked, clinging to the ermine trim of her gown. “The palace mice taught me every inch of the place. It’s just through here, my dear.” He pointed a tiny handpaw toward an arched doorway where a pair of maidservants were waiting with linen towels and bowls of rosewater.

“Oh, what’s that?” Briar Rose asked. Humberto turned to look. A golden ball of light about the size of his body was bounding toward them in the dim hallway.

“I know not,” he said. “Best to ignore it.”

But the girl’s eyes suddenly gleamed with the golden light. “I must follow it.”

Humberto, lacking human speech, could not call out to the maidservants for help, nor could he turn her back by himself. Briar Rose had acquired many of the traits of her animal friends, among them the curiosity of Marco. She followed the bounding light through the twists and turns of the passageways, up into a narrow spiral staircase festooned with cobwebs. At the top was a locked door.

“Open it,” she said.

“My dear Briar Rose!” the mouse protested.

“Open it!” Her voice sounded distant, and not her own. Shrugging, Humberto reached into the keyhole to turn the wards of the lock until it opened with a creak and a thump. Briar Rose passed through the door in a trance. The small attic room was empty, except for one strange object made of wood. A spinning wheel. She moved toward it, her hand outstretched.

“No, Briar Rose!”

* * *

Marco’s eyes were slitted as he watched the Black Fairy eating her supper. She was enjoying herself so much it ruined his appetite. Something was making her very happy. But what? She was here, under his eye, not harming his precious princess.

He suddenly became aware of a frantic squeaking from the floor. He turned moonlike eyes downward to see Humberto scrambling up the chair leg, whiskers askew.