Arthur Daigle's Blog - Posts Tagged "cat"

The city of Blue Sands had seen better years. Most of the people left two generations ago when the silver mines that were the source of the city’s riches were exhausted. What remained now was a shell of a city with half its original population. More buildings were empty than occupied. Farmers scratched a living out of thin soil and ranchers led their flocks to grasses greened by the occasional rainstorm. The biggest employers were inns and hotels offering hospitality to people passing through Blue Sands on their way to better lands.

Kyler Stetson, chief lieutenant of the Red Hands, hated the city and everyone in it. It showed on his face as he marched through the streets at the head of fifteen toughs. Men and women averted their eyes as they got out of his way. Dogs dared not bark at him and horses shied away, for even animals had learned the hard way how dangerous Kyler was.

He hated the way it didn’t rain for months so you had to watch fires lest they spread and burn for miles. He hated how the dust clung to him and never seemed to come off. He hated how even on a cool autumn night like this the mosquitoes never stopped their attacks. He hated how the decrepit city looked horrible even under the flickering lantern light of evening. He hated the men and women who lived in Blue Sands, how they whined and begged and complained.

Rands Dul, proprietor of The Ghost Mines inn, bowed when Kyler marched by him. “Evening, sir. Get you and your boys something to wet your whistles?”

Kyler stopped and stared at Rands. Gifts, especially alcohol, usually went a long way to pacify the Red Hands, but not tonight. Kyler’s leather armor creaked as he walked up to the innkeeper. He flexed his muscles as he took the steel mace off the hook on his wyvern skin belt. Kyler didn’t take off his red leather helmet, but people on the street could still see his scowl.

“Hey now, wait a minute,” Rands said as he backed away.

“Rands, if I learn you had anything to do with what’s been happening in town, I’ll burn your inn down with you tied up in it. And if I want anything from you, I’ll take it.”

Kyler’s men laughed. They took after their boss in their armor and armaments, and in their attitude. Blue Sands and its people were below their contempt, weak men to be robbed of what little they had whenever the Red Hands felt like taking it. In other cities the law would intervene or the king would send knights to restore order, but that would require a reason to take action or a reward for success. Blue Sands was poor and of no strategic value, so neighboring powers ignored it. Still, if Kyler was right the city might be worth having very soon.

“I’ve paid my tax every month, sir,” Rands said. He looked down and did his best to look not worth killing.

Kyler scowled. “Yes, you did. Month after month you came up with the money. I always thought you did it by stealing from your customers while they slept, but now I’m wondering if there’s another reason. You been getting help, Rands? Someone paying you in silver?”

“Sir, no, I swear it!”

Bystanders looked away. Kyler raised his mace to remind Rands of his place. The innkeeper closed his eyes and stood his ground. He knew running only made things worse.

Splat!

Horse manure splattered across Kyler’s head. He howled in outrage as goblins laughed in the shadows of a nearby alley.

“Ooh, good shot!” a goblin complimented another.

“I was aiming for his boots, so not really,” the other goblin replied.

Kyler and his men raced to the alley, but the goblins slipped into the ruins of a nearby house. Kyler tore open a boarded over window to get inside, only to see the goblins slip out the back and go into yet another abandoned house.

“No time for playing with the innkeeper,” a goblin called out from the darkness. “You’re on a schedule, bullyboy. Don’t keep our boss waiting!”

Kyler’s men gathered around him. One offered, “You want us to get them?”

“No.” Kyler wiped off the dung. It hadn’t gotten into the openings in his helmet so it wasn’t hard to clean off, but the damage to his reputation was serious. He’d already intended to make the goblins pay tonight. The debt just got higher. “Head to the mines as planned.”

Kyler led his band of thugs to the abandoned silver mines on the west side of town. Blue Sands had grown around the mines and then grown over them, so the mine entrance was inside the city. It wasn’t much to look at, just a hole in the ground ten feet across that sloped downwards. Nearby buildings once collected ore, the blue sand that gave the city its name, or provided medical care to injured miners. Those buildings had long ago rotted away or been pulled apart for firewood. Now there was just the hole, and the goblins living in it.

The men with Kyler hesitated. One said, “You sure this is a good idea, sir? That’s monster territory.”

More men grumbled until Kyler swung his mace against a nearby house, breaking the window. “Stow that talk! You’re part of the Red Hands, and you do not show fear. Monsters die no different than men do. Now man up and shut up.”

That man had acted like a gutless coward, but he was right. The Red Hands ruled Blue Sands, while the mines were home to countless monsters that took shelter deep below the city. You wouldn’t find real threats like dragons or manticores, but small, sniggling, insignificant monsters like goblins lived here in great numbers, with the goblin Fleck as their leader. They could be dangerous if there were enough of them, but Kyler didn’t fear them, and he wasn’t about to let the Red Hands look weak.

“Boss Lemark sends his greetings,” Kyler called out as he neared the hole. “He also sends me. If my boys and I set off a trap or run into an ambush, then these streets will run red.”

“Good to see you on time for the meeting,” a squeaky voice replied from the darkness. They saw a lantern lit in the hole, and next to it a skinny goblin with a broad hat. The disgusting little creature stood three feet tall and had greasy green skin. “The traps are disarmed and no ambushes wait for you, bullyboy. Follow the light and I’ll bring you to my boss.”

The goblin waited for Kyler and his men to enter the mine before he descended deeper into the tunnels. The place was even more wretched than the city above, with garbage strewn about and crude messages carved into the walls. Side tunnels split off in all directions where miners had once followed ore veins. The giggles and hoots of goblins echoed around them.

Kyler glanced down the side tunnels as he walked by. Most were dark, but he saw crude workshops and storerooms in the few brightly lit tunnels. One tunnel led to what looked like a kitchen from a human house. The goblins must have salvaged it from an abandoned building above ground. To Kyler’s surprise, goblins in the kitchen prepared food for young human children. He’d heard that goblins were so stupid that they occasionally mistook orphaned children for goblins and took them in. It looked like the stories were true.

“It’s been a long time since a brawler like you came here,” the thin goblin said.

“Been a while since one of you made Boss Lemark mad,” Kyler replied. It took a lot of effort not to hit the goblin.

“He sobered up enough to get mad?” the goblin asked.

A lot of effort. “Go on, dig your grave a little deeper, goblin. There hasn’t been a man in two years who picked a fight with us and lived.”

Most people would be smart enough to be intimidated, but the goblin was too dumb to realize how much trouble he was in. “Yes, your inebriated lord and master has made quite the reputation for himself, but even he’s never come down here. He sent you. You might want to think about how little you matter to him if he made that decision. Ooh, look, we’re here, no traps or ambushes.”

Stories had been passed down for years about how miners had dug out so much ore that you could build houses underground. The stories were true, as Kyler and his men were led into a chamber fifty feet long, thirty feet wide and twenty feet high. Miners had built stone supports for the ceiling that still held, and niches in the walls for lanterns.

This room now held court for the goblins and monsters that had taken over the mine after it was abandoned so long ago. Trash piles four feet high littered the room, collected by the goblins from the city above as food. It smelled terrible, a mix of rotting trash, unwashed bodies and possibly dung. Rude messages were carved into the walls and floor, including the words, ‘Visit scenic Blue Sands for award winning art, cuisine, culture, dirt.’ Lanterns had been replaced with glass bottles filled with fire worms. Some ambitious monster had even made a crude throne from mismatched bricks.

And then there were the inhabitants. Kyler saw dozens of goblins lounging about in the filth, laughing and pointing at him. Goblin warp magic made the air ripple and tingle from the collective craziness and stupidity of so many goblins being close together. Hobgoblins, human orphans taken in by goblins, stayed behind their adopted parents. Those brats looked better fed than Kyler had expected, and their mismatched clothes were clean. Kyler spotted a single darkling standing next to the throne. The smoky black creature stood five or six feet tall, its height varying by the second, and it was armed with a rusty sword.

“Ah, good evening Mr. Stetson,” a goblin on the throne said. “My, my, this is a day to remember. Your master had finally seen fit to send an emissary.”

“Fleck.” Kyler spat the word like it was an obscenity.

If Kyler hated the people of Blue Sands, he despised goblins. The filthy creatures constantly caused trouble, pulling pranks, stealing goods and setting embarrassing traps. Worse, goblins had an instinctive form of magic that could warp space. If enough goblins were together their collective stupidity and craziness fueled their warps, magic that could move men and objects in any direction. Kyler had once been caught in such a warp and suddenly found himself ten feet above a dung heap. He’d never liked goblins, but after that day he’d come to loath them.

“Boss Fleck,” the goblin corrected him. All goblins were odd, but Fleck took weirdness to new levels. The goblin wore a small, dirty outdated suit and children’s shoes small enough to fit his feet. His tanned skin was clean, a rarity among goblins, and his bald head practically shined in the light of the fire worms. Fleck had a neatly trimmed mustache and wore a monocle over his right eye. He also had a cat on his lap, a tawny tomcat that stared at Kyler.

Making an already weird situation even more bizarre, five goblins in the back of the room began playing makeshift musical instruments. Their tune was soft and ominous, and when Kyler approached Fleck the music grew louder and faster.

Kyler pointed at the crude band and demanded, “What the blazes is that?”

“Mood music, an essential for epic conflicts.” Stroking his cat, Fleck said, “Your master and his followers have been in Blue Sands for two years without bothering to say hello. A lesser person would take offense at such a snub, but Mr. Tibbles suggested I be more understanding, so you are forgiven.”

“I don’t want your forgiveness or your understanding, goblin,” Klyer replied. “And who the devil is Mr. Tibbles?”

The darkling stepped closer to Fleck and explained, “Mr. Tibbles is his cat.”

Kyler stared at the goblin, too overwhelmed by the stupidity of it all to reply. He eventually said, “You talk to a cat and think it talks back. That’s crazy even for a goblin. And you, darkling, what are you doing here? Word is your kind is good in a fight, and near impossible to kill. Boss Lemark would pay good money to have you in his service.”

The darkling’s already blurry features changed as Kyler watched, so much so that the faceless creature grew a third arm for a few seconds before it dissolved back into its body. “The singing voices told me I could find an end to my immortality by serving the goblins of Blue Sands. No other reward interests me.”

One of Kyler’s men laughed. “I’d heard darklings were crazier than goblins, but this is ridiculous. What fool would give up immortality?”

The darkling blurred again, growing small wings for a few seconds before they evaporated. “What fool would want to go on like this forever?”

Fleck chuckled and rubbed his cat’s chin. “Stetson, or do you prefer Kyler? We’ll go with Kyler. It’s more personal. Kyler, you sent a messenger the other day who claimed you had a matter of some importance to discuss. Do tell, what has brought you to my court?”

Kyler bared his teeth. “You don’t have a court, goblin. You have stinking, played out mines and worthless followers. Boss Lemark was willing to leave you to your hole in the ground and ignore your pranks. Now he wants more.”

“Isn’t the man funny, Mr. Tibbles?” Fleck asked his cat. The cat, no surprise, didn’t answer. It didn’t move at all. “The leader of the Red Hands wants more. Years ago you were chased out of the city state of Nolod and then the kingdom of Oceanview, both times with heavy loss of life. Then you settled here. I can see why you’d want more when you have so little.”

“We rule the city above,” Kyler retorted. “We rule the villages around it. Our men number two hundred strong, and thousands of peasants obey us.”

“As long as we are comparing our respective realms, these mines run for miles around and under Blue Sands, far more real estate than you command,” Fleck replied. “I count five hundred goblins under my command, a hundred human children you call hobgoblins, two mimics, my dear friend the darkling, a young minotaur who is currently too busy to be bothered with you, and my cat, of course. It wouldn’t do to forget Mr. Tibbles. I think there are a few Unidentified Monsters Lurking in Shadows living in these mines, but UMLIS are so good at hiding that I can’t be sure.”

Kyler gripped his mace. “How long do you think you can keep it?”

Fleck opened his mouth, but had no time to answer. A tentacled horror slithered out of a side tunnel and crossed Fleck’s throne room. The red and black monster must have weighted five hundred pounds and had an oblong head covered with eyes. It waved long tentacles as it slithered across the floor. Men and goblins alike backed away, but the monster ignored them as it entered another tunnel.

“What the blazes was that?” Kyler demanded.

“That’s Erving, the tentacled horror,” Fleck said with a casual waved of his hand. “He’s technically not one of us even if he lives here. He’s also behind in his rent.”

“Erving said he’ll have it by Tuesday,” the darkling told Fleck.

One of Kyler’s men rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that one before.”

“Pipe down!” Kyler yelled at the man.

Fleck shrugged. “Returning to your question, Kyler, I rule here for the simple reason that no other goblin wants to. I saw possibilities in the job, and my followers let me lead them. I rule because outsiders such as you tried and failed to usurp me five times. Their challenges were more fun than threatening. Would you like to have fun with us, Kyler? It can be arranged.”

“I don’t want fun. I want silver.” Kyler waved one of his men forward. The man held out a small wooden box and opened it to reveal traces of blue sand. “Silver ore. We found it in an abandoned smelter in town. That building had been checked a dozen times and found empty, and last week we found this.”

Fleck looked bored as he shifted his monocle from his right eye to his left. “The man brings us sand, Mr. Tibbles. What will his next gift be? Dirt? Earwax? A horsehead bookend?”

“I’d like one of those,” a goblin said. “They’re tasty.”

“It’s not a gift, you gibbering halfwit,” Kyler growled. “It’s proof. We’ve checked the land for miles around. There are no new mines opened. That means the ore came from here. These mines aren’t played out after all. You’ve got silver.”

Fleck ran his fingers over his cat’s back. “Oh, that.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say?” Kyler demanded.

“My followers and I aren’t welcome in the shops above because we’re goblins, known troublemakers and a tad pungent. It’s odd that you aren’t excluded for the same reasons. And to be fair, is there really anything men here sell that’s worth buying? If there is treasure here it’s of no value to me, so why should I worry about it?”

Kyler scowled. “You control these mines. If men have been getting silver ore from them it’s because you allow it. Who are they and what sort of deal did they make with you?”

“Deal?” Fleck laughed and petted his cat. “There is no ‘deal’, Kyler. This is trash removal.”

“Trash?” Kyler kicked the nearest heap of garbage, sending trash and a small goblin flying across the room. “Silver, money, riches are coming out of these mines! Don’t you get how valuable it is?”

The goblin band’s music grew softer as Fleck stood up from his crude throne. “I understand risk when I see it. Silver once poured from Blue Sands like a waterfall. Countless men struggled to get a share of it, fighting, stealing, cheating, lying, and those were just the politicians. More ruthless men such as yourself brought untold violence to this city.”

Fleck picked up his cat and walked over to the nearest hobgoblin, a little girl in a ragged dress. No doubt she was some orphaned whelp or abandoned brat that the goblins took in while collecting trash from Blue Sands.

“Kitty,” the girl giggled, and petted the cat.

“He is a good kitty,” Fleck said. The goblin smiled at the girl before turning a stern gaze at Kyler. “Humans say Blue Sands is worse for the loss of silver, but I’ve lived here long enough to know that the city is far superior without it. Gambling halls and bars once left their clientele broke in body and spirit while emptying their wallets, but now are closed. Violence decreased when the silver mines dried up, or at least it did before you and your leader Boss Lemark the lush arrived. I don’t care for the change.”

Fleck walked close enough to Kyler to touch the man. The goblin band picked up the volume and tempo of their music when their diminutive leader addressed Kyler.

“Yes, Kyler, we found silver in these mines. We discovered thin ore veins when connecting two tunnels. It’s not a rich find like in the old days of greed, debauchery and brutality, but as finds go it remains significant. If news of our discovery had gotten out it risked drawing in men like you, or worse, kings and conquerors who’d rampage across both Blue Sands and my realm to claim the treasure. So I’m getting rid of it.

“I found a few old miners, desperate men who still dreamed of the big score. I invited them into my realm and told them to take away the silver before others learned of its existence. They were only too happy to help. It’s a small operation, producing fifty ounces a month, but every swing of their hammers and picks lessens the risk to both me and Blue Sands.”

Kyler bent down to look the idiot goblin in the eyes. “How long did you think you could keep this secret?”

“As of today, eighteen months.”

“Eighteen months!” The cave echoed with Kyler’s outraged scream. “That, that’s—”

“Nine hundred ounces of silver,” Fleck interrupted him.

Kyler grabbed Fleck by the shoulders. “You idiot! Do you know what that’s worth? We could have outfitted our men with better weapons, bought horses, maybe hired a wizard! We could have left this toilet of a city with that kind of money!”

“And bring your particular brand of cruelty to another city? I think not, Kyler. No, the men who dug the ore and smelted it spent the cash on food, clothes and medicine rather than making you more of a threat.”

“How much is left?” Kyler demanded.

“Mr. Tibbles tells me the men could keep digging ore for another eighteen months, but he is a bit of an optimist.”

Kyler pushed Fleck away and grabbed his mace. “That’s nine hundred ounces that aren’t getting away from us. You could have cut a deal with Boss Lemark. We would have let you keep your tunnels and garbage. But you cost us money we need. You’ve got until sunup to leave, and take your monsters with you. The darkling can stay if it feels like taking orders.”

“You flatter yourself,” the darkling replied.

Kyler waited breathlessly for Fleck’s reply. He wanted the goblin to refuse the order. He wanted the excuse to cut loose and tear their pathetic little world apart. He needed to hurt them the same way he needed water and food.

Fleck walked to the nearest bottle of fire worms on the wall. He sprinkled rotten meat into the bottle, and the worms gorged on the feast. Their light grew brighter as Fleck headed back to his throne and sat down. Goblins and older human boys gathered around him. The air rippled even more as the excited goblins charged the air with their warp magic. The music grew soft and ominous.

“Well?” Kyler demanded.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Fleck looked bored. He sounded bored, and it made Kyler’s rage double. “This is my home, my realm, and you’re not welcome in it. You annoy me. I was willing to ignore you in the hopes you’d leave like other troublemakers before you. But you wouldn’t leave, so I had to take steps against you.”

Kyler laughed. “One man is worth ten goblins, and we’ve got two hundred men. What makes you thing you’ll win?”

Fleck leaned down until his lips were inches from his cat’s ears. “Should I tell him, Mr. Tibbles?”

“Stop talking to that stupid cat,” Kyler snarled. “It’s not going to answer you.”

One of Kyler’s men raised a hand and said, “Uh, sir, the cat hasn’t moved since we got here. I think it’s stuffed.”

The goblins howled with laughter, as did the children with them. Even the darkling chuckled until his form blurred so badly it didn’t look human at all.

“You, you’re talking to a stuffed cat?” Kyler asked. This was so confusing it made his head hurt.

“Mr. Tibbles and I were close for so long that after he passed on he asked if I could stuff him,” Fleck said. He spoke such utter nonsense as if it was the most logical statement in the world. “How could I say no when we’re such good friends?”

“You are the craziest goblin in the world,” Kyler told Fleck.

The goblin band stopped playing entirely as Fleck smiled. “Praise indeed, but not enough to save you. That blue sand you showed me, you found it in the old smelter on Fifth Street at the edge of town. I know because I put it there.”

Kyler stared at Fleck. “What?”

“As I said, many troublemakers such as you and your boss Lemark the wino have come to Blue Sands and left, good riddance to them. You stayed. I was patient and thought I could wait you out like the others, but I realized that would never happen. Your numbers are too small, your reputation too damaged to take over a new territory. You couldn’t leave because there was nowhere you could go, so I have to remove you. My people are small and weak. Five hundred of us wouldn’t be enough to get rid of two hundred men…not without help.”

“Nobody helps goblins,” Kyler spat.

“Nobody?” Fleck gazed lovingly at his stuffed cat. “Mr. Tibbles disagrees. He thinks miners who dug up nine hundred ounces of silver would love to help us, if only to dig up another nine hundred ounces. He thinks their families would love to help us, because losing that silver means less food, less clothes, less medicine. He thinks their friends and neighbors would help, if only to get rid of you.”

“Those men are cowards and always have been,” Kyler countered.

Fleck gave Kyler a look, a devious, insane, giddy look as he answered. “They outnumber you dozens to one, a fact they are very well aware of. When you found the evidence I planted, you searched high and low for where it came from. That frightened them, as I knew it would. They don’t want to lose their only chance at a normal life. So when I approached them and offered the services of five hundred goblins, a darkling, a young minotaur and several other monsters to help evict you, they accepted.

“Tonight is the night we attack. Your men are strong and better armed than we are, but your boss Lemark is too drunk to lead his forces. The Red Hands count on you, their chief lieutenant. They follow you, they fear you, they depend on you, and tonight they don’t have you. I have you, and you won’t escape me.”

Goblins seized clubs, lassos, nets, short hammers and other poor quality weapons. The goblin mob was a threat to lesser men, but to Kyler they were a temporary impediment that was about to be removed. If there really was a fight outside rather than just a goblin lie, he’d join it once he got rid of this presumptuous pest.

“Kill the leader then back to base!” Kyler ordered. He grabbed his mace and ran straight for Fleck. His men followed him, except for two who stayed back. They charged the horde of goblins as the goblin band’s music sped up and got louder. Goblins raced into the cave from side tunnels and hit the men from behind. Most were knocked back, but a few tenacious goblins hung onto their enemies or tripped them.

Kyler nearly reached Fleck before the darkling got in his way. The darkling might be crazy enough to want its immortality to end, but it fought like a dragon. It dodged Kyler’s first swing and blocked another man’s attack with its sword. The darkling then kicked a man in the belly and knocked him over, where goblins poured over him and dragged him into a tunnel. Kyler landed a blow on the darkling that would have crippled most men, only for the darkling to shrug it off.

“I got him!” a small goblin shouted as he wrapped itself around Kyler’s left leg. Kyler kicked a larger goblin twice with his left leg, dislodging the small goblin in the process, and then kicked the pest aside. “I don’t got him!”

A lasso caught one of Kyler’s men around his chest. He screamed as goblins and brat children pulled the lasso so hard that he toppled over. They dragged him into a side tunnel as goblins tripped another man. More goblins came from those side tunnels until they numbered over a hundred strong.

Kyler spared a glance at the two men staying out of the fight. “What are you doing?”

The two men ignored him, and the goblins ignored them. Down two men and with two more holding back, Kyler wasn’t doing well. He had to end the fight fast, and that meant getting past the darkling to kill Fleck. The grinning goblin stayed on his throne as men and goblins clashed around him.

Kyler pressed the darkling hard, swinging his mace again and again. The darkling parried most of his blows and ignored the few that struck home. Its attacks held Kyler back and sent another of his men down. The fallen man cried out for help as goblins piled on him. Kyler ignored the fool and kept up his attacks. Kill the leader and the rest would fall.

The rippling in the air grew as the goblins warped space. Dirty paper plates suddenly appeared and rained down before one of Kyler’s men was caught in the warp and hurled screaming across the room. He rammed into one of the support columns and fell unconscious to the ground. Kyler was down another man and no closer to Fleck.

Fleck finally decided to join the fight, and in the stupidest way possible. The goblin stood up on his throne, grabbed his cat by the tail and swung it over his head. He hurled it at Kyler while screaming, “Mr. Tibbles, attack!”

Kyler ignored the stuffed cat and hit the darkling hard enough to knock it over. He was about to find out exactly how immortal darklings really were when the cat hit him in the head.

Wham!

The cat struck like a hammer blow, sending Kyler to the ground. His men panicked when they saw him fall. Some tried to run while a few tried to fight their way to him. Those who fled were quickly outrun by goblins and pulled down. Those who fought to the bitter end faced the darkling and an ever-growing mob of goblins.

Kyler struggled to get up. He got to his knees and no further. Goblins surrounded him and jeered as Fleck picked up his stuffed cat and smirked.

“When I had Mr. Tibbles stuffed, I placed ten pounds of lead inside him,” Fleck said. He looked at the two men who’d avoided the fight. “Well?”

The men glanced at one another before one spoke. “The Red Hands have been on the run for years. We barely get enough to eat in Blue Sands, and it’s not going to get better if we get silver out of your mines. Lemark or Kyler would swipe most of it. We’ve been talking for a while, him and me, and we’re tired of playing losing hands. You said men like us have left Blue Sands before. You let us walk out of here and you’ll never see us again.”

“An acceptable deal for all concerned,” Fleck replied. He pointed his stuffed cat at the exit, and the men left without another word. Fleck then grinned at Kyler. “I wonder how many more of your men are going to abandon you tonight?”

Kyler recovered enough to stagger to his feet. He gripped his head with both hands as if it was going to fall off and ran for the exit. Goblins followed him with Fleck in the lead.

The blow Kyler had taken was serious, but over the years he’d taken harder blows and lots of them. He needed to keep moving and get to his men. Once he got a hundred of them together he’d come back and finish Fleck and his goblins. Just a few more steps and he’d reach the mine entrance, and from there it was a short walk to the Red Hands’ headquarters in an old mansion. It took him too long, but Kyler reached the exit. He was recovering from the blow and even picking up speed when he got outside to see Blue Sands had become a battlefield.

Enraged townspeople armed with hammers, picks, shovels, clubs, staffs and even wood boards pressed the Red Hands on all sides. Hundreds of goblins fought alongside the men and women of Blue Sands, swarming out of alleyways to pile onto lone men. A young minotaur barely five feet tall rammed into Red Hands formations, breaking them and letting others follow in his wake. The tentacled horror Fleck had called Irving joined the fight and grappled two men. Bit by bit the Red Hands were being pushed to their mansion. If Kyler didn’t get there fast his people would shut the doors and leave him out here.

“No, you can’t win,” Kyler said. “We’ll regroup at headquarters and come after you. We, we can burn the city down and bring in new peasants to work the mines.”

Goblins caught up with Kyler and surrounded him. Fleck walked up, still stroking his stuffed cat, and pointed at the mansion. “In olden days the mayors of Blue Sands lived there. I’ve been inside once or twice. It’s quite an impressive place, but it has one defect. Did you know that mine tunnels run under the city? It’s true, and some quite close to the surface. I’ve had plenty of time to prepare for this day, Kyler, and five hundred goblins can move a lot of rock when they’re motivated.”

Still suffering from Fleck’s earlier attack, Kyler muttered, “What are you saying?”

“Wait for it,” Fleck replied.

There came a rumbling sound, a noise distant and muted, but still powerful. The ground vibrated under Kyler. Men and goblins across Blue Sands struggled to stay on their feet, but the mansion suffered far worse as the front half of the building sank into the ground. Its walls crumbled and men ran shrieking from the ruins into the waiting arms of their enemies. When the rumbling and shaking stopped, half the Red Hands headquarters lay in ruins and the other half had vanished underground.

Townspeople and goblins charged into the wreckage, overpowering the few men still standing. A cheer rose across Blue Sands as the Red Hands were defeated and chained up like the criminals they were. Then a group of angry men saw Kyler.

“Let’s get him!” Rands Dul the innkeeper shouted. He waved a shovel and led a mob of shop owners and farmers after Kyler.

“No,” Kyler whispered hoarsely. He staggered backwards before he started running for the nearest stables. “I, I have to get out of here. Get a horse, I can reach the nearest city in—”

Wham!

Kyler felt a blow like a hammer hit him in the back. He fell to his knees and saw Fleck’s stupid stuffed cat roll across the ground next to him. Fleck walked over and picked up the cat before smiling at Kyler.

“I am sorry about that, but when Mr. Tibbles gets angry I simply can’t control him.”

Grace looked up from her work in the garden when she heard her daughter Jenna giggling inside the house. The little girl found all sorts of things funny, like pushing wood bowls off the table at dinnertime and throwing her ragdoll out of a window. Most toddlers do such things and Grace didn’t take it personally, but experience had taught her to be wary when her daughter was too happy. Worried what had happened this time, Grace got up (no easy feat when she was seven months pregnant), brushed dirt off her knees and went inside her small wood house.

She found her daughter sitting on her small bed next to the fireplace. Jenna was a plump girl of two and a half years with brown hair like her mother and a simple cotton dress. She wasn’t alone on the bed. Two small gray kittens lay on the straw mattress, animals so young their eyes were still closed. Jenna cradled a third kitten in her lap and stroked its back.

“Kittens, mommy!” Jenna called out when Grace came near. Technically she said ‘kit tens’, but the meaning came across.

Grace sat down on the edge of the girl’s bed. “Sweetie, where did you get those?”

Jenna grabbed the other two kittens and placed them in her arms. “Mommy cat gave me kittens.”

Grace looked around the small house. There were two beds, one for her and her husband and another for Jenna, a chest for their clothes, a table with three chairs, but there was most definitely no cat. They’d never had one, making this gift of nearly newborn kittens more than a touch unusual.

“Jenna, where is the mommy cat?”

“She left.” Jenna heaped love on the mewing kittens, kissing them and hugging all three.

As if on cue, a large cat walked through the front door of the house like she owned the place. She was big and healthy with a luxurious silvery gray coat, and she carried another kitten in her mouth. The cat had a black collar with a large, red faceted garnet rimmed with silver on it. Such a piece of jewelry would fetch good money at market if some fool tried to take it. No one robbed a sorceress and lived a long life.

The cat jumped onto Jenna’s bed and set down her kitten. Jenna scooped up the new arrival and squealed, “More kittens!”

Grace put an arm around her daughter. “Sweetie, that’s Esme’s cat. These are her kittens. We can’t keep them.”

“Mommy cat gave them to me,” Jenna said. Her tone made it clear this wasn’t a protest but a statement of fact.

Esme’s cat bounded down off the bed and headed for the door. The cat glanced at Grace and gave her a look that said ‘I tolerate you’ before leaving.

Jenna set down her armful of kittens and patted her mother’s swollen belly. “We have kittens and a baby. Baby kittens!”

“Oh dear,” Grace said. Peasants had no dealing with magicians and sorcerers if they could help it. Magic wielders felt the same since peasants had nothing they wanted, no jewels, no rare plants or mushrooms for potions, no monster parts like unicorn horns or dragon scales. Each side stayed well clear of the other and liked it that way.

Esme was no world shattering power when it came to magic. The old woman lived by herself at the edge of the forest, occasionally making potions for sale or working some minor enchantment for aging noblemen who were having trouble in the bedroom. Esme came to the village with her cat only rarely to buy food or clothes before returning to her shack. The sorceress was polite, calling men sir and women ma’am as if they were important people.

Keeping the kittens was out of the question, but it was essential they stayed safe until Esme reclaimed them. Grace went through her limited belongings until she found an old wicker basket. She filled it with rags and placed it on her daughter’s bed. “The kittens need to stay warm. Let’s put them in here.”

Jenna was a compassionate child even if she was mischievous. She placed the kittens in the basket and shouted, “Warm kittens!”

“You play nice with the kittens,” she cautioned her daughter. She stroked Jenna’s face and said, “Be gentle, like this. Can you be gentle?”

Jenna stroked a kitten and smiled. “Soft.”

“Yes, touch them very softly, like that. Come with me into the garden. You can hug the kittens all you want there.” Grace picked up the basket and carried it outside to the vegetable garden next to the house. Jenna followed her and continued cuddling the kittens while her mother worked.

Grace worked on a plan while she weeded the garden. The kittens had to go back, no question, but she couldn’t do it now. She had chores to do and dinner to make, and she had to keep an eye on Jenna. Her husband would be back from cutting wood in the forest soon enough. Once he returned she’d explain the situation, and in the morning he could take back the kittens when he went into the forest. She didn’t like placing this on his shoulders, but there was little choice.

It wasn’t long before Esme’s cat brought yet another kitten. The cat spotted them by the garden and came over to investigate. Finding her kittens in the basket, she deposited the fifth one and nursed them.

“Mommy cat loves me,” Jenna said.

“I’m sure she does,” Grace said as she watched the cat. It glanced at her only briefly before licking the kittens clean.

Grace was a simple woman of twenty-three years, poor and forever to remain so. She had no education except what her mother had taught her. She wasn’t sure what to do when faced with a potentially dangerous situation like this. What was the sorceress’ cat doing in her house? There was no relationship between her and the sorceress. She’s never even spoken to Esme. Hopefully they could solve this problem without upsetting Esme.

Once she’d fed her kittens, Esme’s cat toured Grace’s house. It wasn’t much, a single room house at the edge of the forest with a garden and large woodshed her husband kept full. There were no fields or pasture with it, for Grace’s husband Roy earned his living as a woodcutter. Nor were there houses nearby, the closest one an hour’s walk away. Apparently satisfied, the cat ran off into the woods, hopefully not to bring another kitten.

With her work done in the garden, Grace brought the basket and her daughter inside to cook dinner. Normally this was a trying time since her daughter got bored easily and would wander off, but this time Jenna stayed by the basket and cuddled one kitten after another. The meal was almost ready when her husband came back from the forest pulling a sledge loaded with deadwood.

“That smells delicious,” Roy said when he came inside. He was older than Grace by ten years and had scars running across the left side of his jaw. There were more scars, but his shirt hid those. Roy brought in his tools, axes and saws, and a rabbit he’d caught.

“A problem came up while you were gone,” Grace told him.

Roy kissed Grace and stroked her belly. “The little one’s kicking again.”

“Like an angry mule, but that’s not what I mean.”

Jenna ran up to her father and hugged him, then pulled him to the basket. “Kittens, daddy! Kittens!”

Roy bent down to look at the animals. “Who did we get these from?”

“Esme’s cat brought them,” Grace told him. “She left them on Jenna’s bed.”

“That’s, um, that’s unusual.” Roy put an arm around his daughter and hugged her. “Esme didn’t say anything about this, did she?”

“Not a word. I’ve seen cats move their litters plenty of times before if they thought they were in danger. Who could bother Esme?”

Roy frowned. “You put more faith in her than I do. There’s no telling what kind of trouble Always Fails Esme is in.”

“Dear, don’t call her that.”

“She took three apprentices over the years and kicked them all out,” Roy said. “Three girls she thought the world of, I might add, and left them worse than when she’d met them, and one of them was Esme’s own niece. Those girls ended up angry, arrogant, half trained and half -witted. Two of them are dead, and it’s a pity the number isn’t three.”

Grace had to put a stop to such dangerous talk. She hugged her husband and said, “She gave them a chance. It’s not her fault they failed. You ran into men like that in your days in the army.”

Roy sat down on his bed and pulled his family into his arms. “Too many times. Give a man power and you see the worst in him. We had to protect the few good officers we had from our own side. Grace, I know you don’t like me speaking ill of Esme, but I’ve met my share of wizards. Not a one cared if kings died, much less soldiers. This isn’t safe for our family. Whatever’s going on, we need to settle it soon.”

“My kittens,” Jenna said.

“Where’s the cat now?” Roy asked.

His question was answered when Esme’s cat leapt through an open window and landed on the floor. The cat walked over to the basket and checked on her kittens before studying Roy, Grace and Jenna for a moment with a look that said ‘tolerable, barely’.

“That’s her cat,” Roy said. “I’ve seen it in the forest often enough hunting rodents.”

Grace and Roy were tense, not so much worried about the cat than they were what its owner might do. Jenna had no such worries and hugged the cat. “Mommy cat.”

The move surprised the cat. Jenna stroked the cat, and it relaxed and rubbed against her. “Pretty cat. Mommy cat, baby cats, where’s daddy cat?”

The cat’s eyes snapped open and it looked embarrassed, a rare move for cats. Roy smirked and asked, “Yes, where’s daddy cat?”

The cat glared at him, a ‘keep it up and see where it gets you’ look before slipping out of Jenna’s grip and leaving the house. Once it was gone, Roy relaxed. He put his axes and saws away on a high shelf far out of his daughter’s reach.

“After dinner I have to deliver the wood I gathered,” he told Grace. “In the morning we’ll see about the cat.”

“I get kittens and mommy cat?” Jenna asked.

“We’ll see,” Grace told her daughter.

Grace cooked the rabbit her husband had brought and left him to prepare the skin. Officially hunting was reserved for nobles, but their neighbors didn’t begrudge a poor man bringing in small game. Once or twice a year Roy caught a deer and shared its meat with the villagers, who ate the evidence of his poaching within hours. Neighbors considered this proof of his generosity rather than a crime.

Once dinner was done Roy went to deliver firewood to merchants and the nearby baronet while Grace cleaned up after the meal. Normally she’d look after Jenna, but the rambunctious child was too enamored with her kittens to wander. They’d need firewood to keep the house warm in the night, so Grace headed for the woodshed.

The woodshed was a small building open on two sides. Roy kept it well supplied with deadwood and live trees he’d cut and left to dry. Farmers and craftsmen counted on Roy to keep them warm through the winter, and carpenters often came for building material.

Grace poked through the woodpiles looking for a few small branches she could burn. She hadn’t finished when her unborn child kicked within her. “Mother keeps saying only boys kick so much. You must be healthy to make so much trouble.”

She reached over a pile to grab a dry branch and froze when she saw a spot of red. Grace dug through the woodpile, going ever deeper into the woodshed until she reached a bright red velvet pouch in the back corner. She lifted it and heard it jingle. Coins. There were more velvet pouches under the first one. One, two, three, four in all, each one was big enough to carry a goodly amount of money. Hesitantly she opened one and took out a single gold coin.

There was a terrible hiss behind her, and Grace dropped the pouch. She turned to see Esme’s cat carrying an ivory wand in its mouth. The cat dropped the wand and growled at her, claws extending and hairs rising across its back.

Grace was having none of it.

“How dare you!” The cat held its ground and snarled at her. Grace threw the coin at the cat’s feet and shouted, “Do you have any idea how much trouble we’re going to get into over this? Taking a rabbit now and again is one thing, but this is robbery! Esme is going to think we stole it! She’ll be furious!”

The cat froze in place. Its hairs settled and it looked down as it backed away. Was that embarrassment? Fear? A sudden realization hit Grace, and her tone softened when she spoke.

“Oh. Oh, girl, I’m sorry. Esme’s gone, isn’t she? That’s why you came here.” She bent down and picked up the cat. It made no move to escape, instead rubbing its face into her dress. She carried it back and set it inside next to the kittens.

Roy came back as night approached, and Grace met him at the door. He saw the look on her face and asked, “What happened?”

“I think Esme died,” Grace said, her voice just above a whisper. Jenna was too young to hear of such things and was best kept in the dark. “She died and her cat came here to raise her kittens.”

Roy cursed bitterly but softly enough that Jenna wouldn’t hear. “I’ll get my cousins and we’ll look in on her in the morning.”

“You’ll bury her?”

“There are small laws and big ones. Burying the dead is a big one. We’ll see she gets a proper grave, and Father Amadeus Firepower can say a funeral for her and bless the grave next time he comes to the village. That should be enough to keep dark spirits from taking over her body now that she’s moved on.”

Grace’s heart beat faster. “You think that could happen?”

“I saw it when I was in the army. I mean to make sure I don’t see it again. Make no mistake, Grace, I’ve no love for the sorceress, but I’ll not see her become a barrow wight wandering the forest. I do this for you and for Jenna.”

* * * * *

The next day started calmly enough. Jenna stayed near the kittens while Esme’s cat came and went as it pleased. Grace took her daughter and collected wild greens and mushrooms from the forest. Roy left early in the morning, coming back at noon with mud on his hands. He washed in a nearby stream and when he came home waved for Grace to join him outside. “You were right.”

“How did it happen?”

“No sign of violence,” Roy said. “I think it was just old age. We buried her deep and covered the grave with a large rock. That should keep the body quiet until the priest can bless it. Esme’s cat watched us the whole time we buried her. I asked my cousins to tell the baronet what happened. It may take a few days for knights or the sheriff to come settle Esme’s affairs now that she’s gone.

“I didn’t see much in her shack. No coins, no books or scrolls, no potions. Just as well there’s nothing to take or men might get jealous. We’re wondering if we should burn her shack down so bandits and rogues don’t use it.”

Grace hesitated before saying, “Esme’s cat hid things from her house in our woodshed.”

“What sort of things?”

“Things that might make men get jealous. Gold, a wand, maybe more I didn’t find.”

Roy made a low, growling sound. “Always Fails Esme causes trouble even when she’s dead. Tell no one about this. Don’t touch it, especially the wand. God only knows what it does. If knights come or Esme has any family who comes to mourn her then we’ll tell them.”

“The gold could do a lot of good here.”

Roy grabbed his tools before heading for the door. “Merchants would want to know how we got it, and telling them it’s from a dead woman wouldn’t go over well. That’s assuming they don’t just try to take it from us. I’ve seen men killed for a handful of copper coins. Heaven help us, bandits would wipe out the whole village for gold. I’ll be back in time for supper. Grace?”

“What is it?”

“Be careful around the cat,” he said. “I know how stupid that sounds, but I’m serious. I saw wizards back when I was in the army and some kept cats. They cast spells binding the animals to them. I didn’t understand it much and the wizards never explained except to call them familiars. If that cat is a familiar I don’t know what it can do without Esme, but it could be dangerous.”

Grace frowned. “If it’s dangerous we can’t safely get rid of it, either.”

“No, we can’t, and that’s why we need help dealing with this. Keep safe.”

Grace spent the day gardening and watching over Jenna. Her daughter was still excited with her new pets and stayed with them constantly. Esme’s cat came back at noon to check her kittens. The cat stayed for a while watching Grace.

“My husband thinks you’re something special,” Grace told the cat while she worked. This didn’t bother Jenna, as small children often talked to animals and toys. The cat watched Grace, showing only minor interest.

“I think he’s right. Cats don’t care about gold or wands. Esme must have cast spells on you to make you smarter, so I hope you understand me. I know you came here to keep your kittens safe, but you might be putting my family in danger. Men want gold enough to kill for it. They might kill for Esme’s wand. I don’t know if you brought them here to keep them safe or as a gift, but they can’t stay. Did Esme know people you can bring them to?”

The cat looked down and shook its head. Grace petted it and asked, “Why did you come here in the first place?”

Esme’s cat gave her a look that said ‘are you kidding’ before it looked at Jenna. The little girl was sitting inside the basket with a pile of kittens on her lap. The cat also rubbed against Grace’s belly, where her unborn child started kicking.

“One mother counting on another.” Grace took Jenna out of the basket and put the mewing kittens back in it. “Then take this from one mother to another: Roy’s a good man and he’ll take care of us, but he can’t protect us from everything.”

The cat gave her a ‘oh, him’ look, and Grace scolded, “Don’t you give me that. I was a girl when the king needed soldiers. They took Roy and ten other men from our village. I was a grown woman when Roy came back alone. He survived things that should only be in nightmares, and after he came back he killed two monsters living in the forest.”

Esme’s cat didn’t look sorry, but it didn’t show further disrespect before heading into the woods. Grace didn’t see it again until Roy came back at the end of the day. The cat lay in front of the fire, watching them when Roy handed Grace a squirrel he’d caught.

“Any trouble?” he asked.

“While you were gone Jenna stuffed all the kittens inside your spare socks. I just finished getting them out.”

Roy picked up his daughter and ticked her chin. “Why did you do such a silly thing?”

“To keep kittens warm,” Jenna told him.

“I can’t argue with that,” Roy told her. He put the little girl down and clarified, “I meant any trouble from our guest.”

Grace took the squirrel and prepared it for dinner. “No. I think Esme’s cat is only going to be with us until her kittens are grown. There’s no need for her to stay after that.”

Roy seemed more at ease with the idea. “As long as there’s no trouble. She seems lazy enough.”

“Must you pick fights?” Grace asked.

“It’s not an insult,” Roy said as he put his tools away. “Hunters who don’t know what they’re doing spend all their time and energy finding food. Lazy hunters are the best kind. They know what they’re doing, catch their food quickly and go home early, and that is one lazy cat.”

Esme’s cat showed considerable interest in the squirrel Roy had brought home. Roy wagged a finger at it and said, “We’re putting a roof over your head, but we’re not feeding you. Get your own dinner.”

The cat gave him a disparaging look that said ‘cheapskate’ before it got up and left the house. Grace, Roy and Jenna had the rest of the night to themselves with no further visits. Grace put Jenna to sleep, even if the girl insisted on taking the kittens and their basket with her to bed. Roy and Grace went to bed and were fast asleep within minutes.

* * * * *
Boom!

The explosion woke Grace and Roy from their sleep. Jenna woke screaming and ran to their bed. Grace scooped up her daughter while Roy grabbed a long handled ax from his tools.

Grace staggered to her feet with Jenna in her arms. “What was that?”

“Stay in the house!” Roy ran outside and came back within seconds. “I see smoke and bright lights in the woods. It looks like it’s coming from Esme’s shack.”

“You said there was nothing in there. How could it explode?”

“I don’t feel like finding out. Take Jenna and whatever you can carry and go to your parent’s house. I’ll round up any villagers who can help and get the baronet. Problems this big are his business, not ours.”

Most of their possessions were cheap and replaceable, leaving little for Grace to carry. She headed outside when Jenna yelled, “Kittens! I want my kittens!”

Roy grabbed the basket and handed it to Grace. “Go! Hurry!”

Grace didn’t get a step before pain washed over her. She winced and gripped her head, nearly hitting a wall as she staggered under the strain. Agony hit Roy just as hard and he fumbled for his ax. Jenna cried out and the kittens made pitiful noises.

“Yes, hurry,” a taunting voice called out.

Roy and Grace looked outside their simple house and saw lights floating in the darkness. A group of strange figures emerged from the forest. A tall woman in flowing robes was in the lead and flanked by two unnaturally thin figures. Too late Grace realized those things were men’s bones knitted together, and they had red glowing eyes. Two skeletal hounds and a skeletal stag followed them. The strange lights came from glowing skulls that floated around these terrible people.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” the woman taunted them. She was a grown woman but had a child-like voice and a singsong tone like a mother speaking to a child. “Auntie Esme hurried all the time, except when she didn’t. She hurried to tell me I was wrong. She hurried to kick me out like I was trash! She hurried to tell wizards not to teach me! But she wouldn’t hurry to trust me. Isn’t that silly?”

“Stop playing around,” a skeletal man told the woman. “Your lightshow is going to bring trouble.”

“You see what I have to put up with?” the woman asked. “My children are so disobedient. I’ve made and killed three batches of them, but the new ones are never better. You’re a mother. You understand.”

Roy stepped in front of Grace and Jenna. “We had nothing to do with Esme’s death.”

“Of course you didn’t,” the woman said scornfully. “Auntie could have killed a hundred men like you. The dark spirits told me she died in her sleep. She’s gone and the world’s no worse for it. Auntie never did anything worth doing. Don’t use magic if you don’t have to. Don’t become dependent on magic. Don’t make people jealous of your magic by showing off. She could have overthrown kings with her power, and she wouldn’t even fix a broken teacup!”

Grace staggered back under the pain. Where was it coming from? Why wasn’t it affecting this crazy woman and her monsters?

“Your aunt, her cat brought things from her house,” Grace struggled to say. “They’re in the woodshed. Take them and go.”

“Why do you think I came here?” the woman demanded. “I searched her miserable hovel and tore it asunder. The dark spirits told me where to find her wand. Seems she gave away her magic rings a few years ago to a wandering brat. Someone finally impressed auntie, it’s that strange? She threw out two girls and then me, her own niece. Three apprentices desperate to learn, desperate to please her, and she treated some penniless idiot on a quest like he mattered! She thought that was the end of it, but I found others to teach me! I showed her!”

The woman smoothed out her robes before saying, “That’s neither here nor there. I can feel auntie’s wand nearby. I could take it and walk away, no harm done.”

“But you won’t,” a skeletal hound said. It spoke like a bitter man.

“We’re stuck serving an idiot,” the other hound said.

The woman glared at her monstrous servants. “Auntie liked it here. So peaceful, so quiet, so boring, just like her. I couldn’t kill Aunt Esme, she was too strong, but I can burn everything she loved. So, about that wand, let’s pretend you didn’t tell me where to find it. I like pretending.”

A skeletal man took a step toward Grace. “It’s playtime.”

It didn’t take a second step. Roy screamed a battle cry and swung his axe in an overhead attack, breaking through the skeleton’s skull and ribcage. Smashed bones went flying as the skeleton staggered back. Roy followed up with a swing across its chest that broke the rest of its ribs and its spine.

A skeletal hound bound at him and suffered for it. Roy’s next swing took off its head, and the following blow broke both its front legs. The next hound was a second behind the first and lunged at Roy’s neck. He ducked under its jaws and swung again, breaking off its back legs before he crushed its spine.

“Hmm, didn’t see that coming,” the woman said.

Grace did. Her husband had been a soldier for years and killed monsters after leaving the king’s service. Since coming home he’d cut wood twelve hours a day every day of the week. Battle tested and with muscles like iron, he was a match for these abominations.

“Let’s talk this over,” the second skeletal man said as Roy charged it.

“Grace, run!” Roy yelled.

Grace ran with her child and an armful of kittens. She’d only gone a few steps when the skeletal stag came after her. She dodged its sharp antlers by the thinnest of margins. The monster outpaced her and came to a stop directly in front of her. Grace ran back to the house and hid in the woodshed seconds before the monster charged.

“You can’t stay in there forever,” the stag taunted her. Hearing it speak like a person was horrifying. The stag tried to force its way into the woodshed, but its long thin legs and broad antlers got caught in the piles of wood.

Grace put down her daughter and the kittens before she pressed both hands against a tall woodpile. She pushed for all she was worth until the pile fell across the stag’s antlers, pinning it in place. She grabbed a long piece of firewood and stood over the stag, swinging again and again, breaking its legs and ribs until the awful thing stopped moving and the red light in its eyes died away.

“This wasn’t my idea!” the skeletal man said as it fled past the woodshed. It was missing its right arm, and another swing of Roy’s axe took off the other one. “Not in the face! Not in the f—”

He hit it in the face and crushed the last skeleton. With it gone the pain coursing through Grace’s body faded away and she felt normal again.

“Pity that,” the woman said. Her followers were gone, but the woman was far from defenseless. She wove her hands in the air and spoke foul words, then took a bottle from inside her robes and threw it to the ground. The bottle shattered and a tiny flying creature rose into the air. Seconds later the skeletons’ broken bones were swept up as if by a great wind and fused together around the little creature, forming a skeletal man eight feet tall.

“Can you see me, auntie?” the woman screamed as her monster marched toward Roy. “Your other students died, but not me! Am I not powerful? Am I not worthy?”

Grace dug through the woodpile until she found Esme’s belongings. She tossed aside the pouches filled with gold and grabbed the wand. This madwoman wanted it. Maybe it could stop her if Grace could figure out how it worked.

“Grace, run!” Roy struck the monstrous skeleton, but the fused bones resisted his blows. It tried to slap him and missed.

The wand had no writing on it, no trigger or lever, nor any switches. Grace did see two tiny silver rings near the base. Both rings could slide toward one another, and when she slid one she felt the wand vibrate.

“Grace!”

“As if running would help,” the woman said casually.

Grace stepped out of the woodshed just in time to see the monster skeleton knock her husband over. She pointed the wand at that revolting monstrosity and slid the two silver rings together. The wand shook like someone was trying to pull it from her hands. When the rings touched a deafening boom came from the wand. The horrible monster looked so confused before a wall of sound hit it like a battering ram, smashing it apart and sending bone shards flying.

“That would be auntie’s wand,” the woman said. She didn’t sound bothered.

Grace pointed the wand at this maniac who’d attacked her family. She slid the two rings together, and was rewarded with absolutely nothing. No boom, no shaking, nothing.

“Aunt Esme made that wand,” the woman said. “It works only once a day, one of her little teaching moments. She said if you have to resort to violence more than once a day then you should find better ways to deal with your problems. I’d say she’s wrong, wouldn’t you? Auntie was wrong about so much.”

The glowing skulls circled around the woman as she cast another spell. Giant black spider-like legs sprouted from her back and scratched at the edge of Roy and Grace’s house. Sharp claws on those legs hacked through oak boards as if they were soft dirt. Another spell formed a dense cloud of biting flies around the woman’s right hand.

“You killed my children,” the madwoman said as the cloud of flies grew larger. “It’s no great loss. They were as disappointing as the ones before them. Still, I’d be lonely without them. You and your neighbors can replace my children…after a few modifications.”

Roy gripped his axe and braced himself. Grace threw the wand aside and grabbed a loose branch from the woodshed.

“Hiss!”

The noise was loud enough to draw all three people’s attention. It was Esme’s cat, standing at the edge of the forest. The cat had caught a squirrel and brought it back, dropping it at the sight of the battle. Grace fancied that she could guess the cat’s thoughts by its expressions. What she saw in it now was outrage, fury, hatred without limit, a look that said ‘how dare you’. Grace saw the red garnet on the cat’s collar glow bright in a match to the cat’s wrath.

“Why are you wearing auntie’s broach?” the woman asked.

Grace wondered why the madwoman didn’t recognize the threat. Whether it was insanity, stupidity or arrogance, she missed the opportunity to strike first. Esme’s cat charged the woman and ate up the ground between them in seconds. The garnet glowed brighter still as the cat changed, twisted, bent and grew until it seized the woman with claws four inches long. The woman cried out in shock as Esme’s cat, cat no longer, dragged her eighty yards into the forest. Seconds later her cloud of flies scattered and the glowing skulls winked out.

* * * * *
The baronet and ten soldiers arrived at the woodcutter’s house early the next day. Word had gotten to him that Esme had died. He’d put little thought to it as he was no relation to the woman and had no claim on her property, nor did he use her potions or enchantments. But morning had brought reports of an explosion in the forest and talk of dark magic. He found the woodcutter and his family surrounded by neighbors and relatives. They were shaken up but not seriously injured.

“What happened?” the baronet asked as he approached.

The woodcutter bowed his head. “Sir, one of Esme’s banished apprentices came last night. She swore violence against the village.”

The baronet gritted his teeth. Two of Esme’s former apprentices were safely buried. Word was that Esme’s last and worst apprentice had sunken deep into black magic and necromancy. If she was here then every man within twenty miles was in danger.

“Where did she go?” the baronet demanded.

The woodcutter pointed to a fresh grave with many large rocks over it. “We buried as much of her as we could find.”

“You killed her?”

The woodcutter looked down and his pregnant wife joined him. “No, sir.”

“Sir,” the woman began, “we would have died except Esme’s cat attacked the woman. Your lordship, Esme must have enchanted her cat. I think she left it behind in case her apprentice returned.”

The baronet didn’t relax at this news. If Esme’s last and worst apprentice was gone so much the better, but he had no cause to rejoice if there was an even greater threat present. “Where is this cat?”

The woodcutter’s wife pointed at a large silvery gray cat with a black collar. The cat sat at the doorway to the woodcutter’s house, joined by a little girl and a number of kittens. The cat watched him. It didn’t look threatening, but wizard’s pets seldom did.

“I see,” the baronet said. He was a practical man who had survived many threats by being smart enough not to run straight at them. This was a matter for wizards to deal with, or possibly a higher ranked nobleman, and his meddling could only make things worse.

Countless eyes watched him. He needed to calm them before someone panicked. “The animal doesn’t seem to be causing trouble. I will petition for a court wizard to deal with any matters Esme left unresolved. Until then I’m leaving my guards here to prevent further problems. Has Father Amadeus Firepower been contacted?”

“We sent a messenger at first light,” the woman said.

The baronet nodded. The priest could make sure the necromancer stayed dead, no certain thing when black magic was involved. “Good. You’ve done well in difficult circumstances and have reason to be proud. Return to your homes and fields.”

The crowd dispersed slowly, still half panicked. The baronet couldn’t blame them. He cursed his bad luck that such a horror came to his land. Bad as it was, the problem seemed to be contained for now. The only thing he had to worry about was a cat.

Esme’s cat looked at him as if to say ‘well, now what’, a valid question. He gave it some thought as he looked at the fresh grave and its hideous occupant. He wondered at the damage that wicked woman could have done, the lives that could have been lost, and he came to the conclusion that he rather liked cats.

“Sleepy baby,” Grace said as she rocked her son. The baby yawned and fell into a deep slumber. Grace set the baby in his cradle and checked on her daughter Jenna. The little girl was napping on her tiny bed, giving Grace time to do work around her house. A mob of five gray cats waited until she’d left to cuddle up to the sleeping children.

One cat stayed by Grace as she cleaned the house. Grace smiled and stroked its back before she went outside and hung laundry to dry in the warm summer wind. The cat followed her and watched as if such a chore was interesting.

“You must have seen Esme do this,” she told the cat. It shrugged and headed for the nearby woods. The cat only went a few steps before stopping and turning to look west. Grace followed its gaze to see a man with a sword walking along the edge of the woods. “Hello there.”

The man locked his eyes on her. “Hello, pretty thing.”

Grace kept working while she watched the stranger. Young, strong, sort of handsome, worn clothes, she’d seen his kind many times before. “How long since you left the army?”

The man froze. “How did you…dumb question, I’ve got a sword.”

“And tattoos on your arm. Swords and axes, that’s Duke Kramer’s mark. Plenty of men have come this way after leaving his service. Where are you headed?”

The man’s eyes went from her toes to her head. “I haven’t decided. Not much to look forward to. Strange to see a pretty lady all alone.”

“My husband Roy is a woodcutter. He’s in the forest cutting timber to repair our baronet’s house.”

The stranger came a step closer. “So he won’t be back for a while.”

Grace hung up a threadbare sheet to dry. “Not for hours. You’ll like Roy. He used to be a soldier, too. He’s helped plenty of men settle down after leaving the army.”

“I don’t need help getting what I want.”

The cat walked over and rubbed against Grace’s ankles. The stranger frowned and pointed at the cat. “Is that a garnet in its collar?”

“No, a ruby.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s big. How did a woodcutter’s wife get a ruby?”

Grace laughed. “It’s not my ruby or my cat. Did you ever hear of Esme the sorceress?”

“Yeah, an old woman who brewed potions for old men.” He laughed. “I don’t need potions.”

“Esme passed away, and her cat brought her kittens to grow up in our house. Hmm, must have been six months ago.”

The stranger snapped his fingers. “I just remembered, she was called Always Fails Esme. Funny a witch who couldn’t get anything right would have a ruby. I’ll thank your husband for being so hospitable, letting me have a ruby and his wife.”

“Esme got some things right,” Grace replied as the ruby flashed. In seconds the cat grew, twisted, warped and leaped twenty feet onto the man’s face.