Father wyvern requested that I be a party to negotiations. This was all new to him, and I think he wanted someone there that he knew he could trust. In addition to the Generalissimo, Magrat asked Duke Sven and Wren to join us. She wanted to demonstrate to the wyverns that several races really were working together on this.

I had very little to contribute. Most of the talk revolved around where the wyverns could go for both the long and short term. Because of the communication problem, the best short-term solution was to settle the wyverns near the trolls on the Green River while the weather was warm. That would give mages time to find a more permanent solution to the communication problem.

When I mentioned that Father Garshom had experience in potions and enchanted tools, the two goblins present were ready to send the army to fetch him. Nothing was resolved just then since the Prince sent word that lunch was ready. Wyverns were like felines in wanting to sleep, especially after eating. The wyvern family each had a hog to eat before starting the talks with Magrat. They retired to the roof of the cheese factory for a long nap. Magrat decided the talks would start back up tomorrow morning, so I now had my afternoon free to play with the gift from the Goblin Queen.

I wasn't feeling patient enough to watch the two-footed ones eat plant matter and meat ruined by heating it, so I headed for the trees. I was going to catch myself some fresh meat and pounced on a nice fat coney that had been raiding the local gardens. I was about to gut and clean it when Cat mind-shouted at me.

I can't say I was overjoyed to have my fun-with-food moment interrupted before I even started. At least I got a little pouncing in before having my snack time ruined. I ran back to the meeting hall with the just-killed coney. The door was closed, and there was no one to open it. It was most annoying. My recourse was to do what anyone of my species would do when presented with a closed human door. I yowled as loud as possible to make sure they heard me inside.

When Cat and I first arrived at Elvenhome, I yowled just a handful of times to be let in or out before all the doors sported newly-made door levers instead of doorknobs. Alas, the doors on the goblin meeting hall have knobs. To be honest, I can use doorknobs, but I end up destroying the knobs. My jaws are too strong, and I end up crushing doorknobs when trying to turn them with my cuspid fangs.

Wren opened the door. She looked concerned and a little out of breath, "Fuzzy, what's wrong?"

*Nothing. Cat rider wanted me, and there was no one to open the door for me.*

"You made all the noise just to get the door opened? Haven't you heard of knocking?"

*Knocking requires hands, Wren dearest, and I don't seem to have any.*

"You miserable incorrigible intolerable excuse of a cat. We thought something terrible had happened."

*It was terrible. First, Cat interrupted me before I could have my lunch, and then no one met me to open the door. It's a nice fresh coney, which I must wait to eat now. After nothing but mutton, since we left Kizdangengar, I was really looking forward to it.*

"Fuzzy, why be difficult when, with a little more effort, you could be impossible?"

I stopped and looked at her with mock admiration, *Why Wren, that's a great idea! I'll get to work on that right away.*

It was just then that I noticed every eye in the room was on me.

Motley Owl walked up to me, "What's wrong, Fuzzy?"

"She couldn't open the door. Her Majesty here was put out that no one was waiting to open it for her," Wren snarled.

"That's it?" Owl's eyebrows disappeared upward toward his hairline.

"Isn't that enough?"

To Wren's disgust, Owl howled with laughter. "You know, Fuzzy," he grinned, "you could have mind talked to any of us to let you in."

*Too much work, not enough fun,* I declared, still feeling put out about the door.

Still grinning, Owl pointed to a table in the corner of the dining area where the Duke, Willam, and my boy were waiting for me, "Would you like me to dress out that coney while you talk with those who summoned you, your Cattiness, Great Sage of All Beasts?"

*Very funny, Owl,* I grumped. *No, I will have Cat Rider do that for me.*

Owl continued to laugh as I padded over to my boy. I put my front paws on the edge of the table and dropped the coney in front of Cat.

*Dress that out for me, please. You can keep the skin.* I then jumped up on the table and lay down.

Cat gifted me with a face full of long-suffering patience, "Fuzzy, you can't sit on the table, and why should I dress out this rabbit?"

*Coney. I was ready to gut and clean it myself when somebody interrupted my lunch. And why shouldn't I lie down on the table to talk with you? I don't fit on any goblin chairs and benches, and the only alternative is the floor.*

Cat glared at me, and I glared back. The Duke picked up the coney and waved someone over. Sergeant Albert arrived looking a little nervous and eyeing me.

"Albert, would you please take this to the kitchen," the Duke handed the sergeant the coney, "and get it dressed out for this starving and pathetic mountain cat." The sergeant took the coney and escaped. "Fuzzy, I had no idea you could caterwaul like that. Is there any way to capture that sound with magic and use it for a doorbell?"

I switched my glare from Cat to Duke Sven but got distracted: *I surmise you think you're…Oh! Oh, oh, oh, right there. Oh, yes, right there, right under the chin.* The Prince aimed for my one weakness. I flopped over onto my side from scratch-induced paralysis and purred.

"Feeling less grumpy now?" a grinning Willam sat back down.

*Willam, marry me.*

"The church would never permit it," Willam pointed out, still grinning.

*The Holy Writ says nothing about marrying divine beasts, neither for nor against.*

"What about the prohibition of fornicating with animals?"

*That's about having sex with animals. That's independent of marriage. Marriage under the law is a legal contract by which two people of opposite genders merge their estates and set up a household with property held in common. Marital status is also the precondition for legal sex, but that implies you don't have to have sex to be married.*

"Give up, Willam," Cat laughed, "Fuzzy doesn't lose arguments."

"Alright, children," Duke Sven interrupted, "playtime is over. We need to start thinking about how we can rescue the King."

*Please tell me I'm hallucinating. Indeed, I could not have heard you say we would rescue the King from the palace that the Regent controls, now filled with her creatures and sycophants. Do we even know for sure he's alive?*

"He was alive just a few hours ago," Cat said with his authoritative voice. He didn't use it often, but when he did, you did not doubt that Cat was a person in charge, confident in his orders and leadership.

*You used Queen Margo's gift.* It was a statement, not a question. *How is the King?*

The expression on Cat's face was a cross between grim and infuriated: "Not well. I watched him wake up. A valet or attendant came and fed him. He seemed hungry but disoriented. He wanted to get out of bed. He demanded to know what day it was. He wanted to see his children. He ordered the servant to get his clothes because he wanted to visit with his ministers. The servant told him he had to take his medicine first and gave him something to drink. He calmed down but seemed to lose all knowledge of who he was and where he was. When he was more biddable, the servant gave him a bath, shaved him, and put him back into his bed.

"He was gaunt, Fuzz. There's no muscle on him, and his cheeks are sunken in. I could see his ribs through his skin. Once he was back in bed, a man wearing a court mage's black and emerald robes entered the room. He asked the servant how the patient was doing, and the servant said the King was more alert this morning, and he had to sedate him again. Then the mage cast befuddlement followed by the spell for a miasma of fear with an extra clause to extend the spell."

"Was he an older man, white hair cut short, about my height, grey eyes, with a vertical scar on his forehead?" Duke Sven asked.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

"Yes, that sounds right," Cat scowled. "You know this person?"

"He's Magus Keleher and Griselda's left-hand fiend. He replaced Master Edmund the Fair as court mage two and a half years ago."

"Where did Master Edmund go?"

"He disappeared, Cat, and remains missing to this day," the Duke said with an interesting bite to his words.

"Is anyone left from my father's court at the palace?" Cat demanded.

"The laundresses, the gardeners, the spit boys, the scullery girls, the musicians, the grooms, the stable hands, and the charwomen. No one is left of the people who got things done, not even me. The Regent has replaced everyone. Those who complained too loudly either vanished for no reason or fell ill and died."

Cat smiled that innocent smile he has when he's plotting something malevolent. "I would not label the palace staff as people who don't get things done, Uncle. They move silently and unnoticed through our world. Without them, the miniature universe of the palace would stop functioning. They notice everything that happens and share the results of any privy council meeting ten minutes before it adjourns. Don't overlook them as an asset we can use."

"But they can't do anything," Duke Sven protested.

Cat's smile deepened.

*I know that face. What evil are you contemplating this time, Cat?*

"Evil? My nephew?" Sven was incredulous.

*Let's see. My favorite is when Cat cast the spell of one thousand unseen bites on Blue Fox's and Golden Trout's sheets. It's a lovely spell. Cat set it up to start at midnight. The recipient feels the bite of a flea, but there is no bug to be seen. Then there's another bite, then another, and so on. The spell vanishes after one thousand bites. There are no insects to find, and no amount of anti-bug potion can stop the spell.*

"Why Blue Fox? He seems to be a decent fellow," Sven frowned.

*He used to be the biggest bully in the Greenwood. Cat and Owl were two of his victims. One day, a year or more in the past, Cat got fed up and enchanted all of Fox's hosen with charms to prevent geriatric constipation.*

The Duke groaned, "I have a feeling I know where this is going."

*Cat invented a wonderful little spell that sends a thunderstorm or blizzard over one's victims. It can be scaled from a small personal storm to as large as an army. You should ask Wren about it. She's the one who has suffered from it the most. It's such a useful spell that King Storm Eagle has made all his war mages learn it for use in the field. Oh, yes, I nearly forgot: when the storm is small enough, it will follow its victim inside. It lasts two weeks or whenever the mage dismantles the spell, whichever comes first. Another mage can't undo it. Now imagine the Regent with a two-week-long personal snowstorm over her head that follows her everywhere, even to bed.*

"Uncle, employment of spells like these is a form of terrorism," Cat's smile achieved an even deeper level of innocence. "Recruiting key people on the palace payroll can greatly facilitate this sort of warfare. Don't look down your aristocratic nose at the commoners who make your bed and clean your clothes. We don't want an armed conflict. We want to get a sick man out of the palace. Given the Regent's nature, I'm sure there are many on the staff who might help us."

The Duke was incredulous. "And how are we going to identify and locate all those willing helpers when we, the royal family, can't even visit the King in his bedroom?"

The smiling Cat Rider opened his shoulder bag, pulled out the bag with the crystal ball, and removed the silk-wrapped, "We merely need a little spying."

----------------------------------------

The next few days were great fun until they got boring. The grown-ups were busy every morning talking with the wyverns. Cat and I, joined by the curious Owl and Willam, took turns using Queen Margo's gift. Cat and I quickly put Owl and Willam to work, taking notes about what we observed. After four days, we knew the guard routes and schedules, the Regent's work routine, and Magus Keleher's routine.

I am a patient creature. I can tolerate all sorts of human behavior, but after four days, I was bored. We were also in another waiting game. Wren and Cloud Eye had left with father wyvern to find Gork's family of trolls. Everyone agreed that the best short-term plan was leaving the wyverns up north with Gork's family. Willam, Cat, Owl, and I were sitting at the table in Willam's room when my boredom was cured in the worst possible way. Cat had shifted to documenting the Regent's routine and schedule when we encountered some alarming intelligence.

The scene in the crystal showed the Regent, Queen Griselda Oster, at her desk in a large office. Magus Keleher stood to her right. A man in riding leathers knelt in front of the desk.

"Why do I even bother to pay you incompetents?" The Queen screeched. "Do you really not know where my son and the Duke are?"

"We know the ballistae troop left Kizdangengar and went west, but our agents could not follow. Operating deep within Gorgurak is difficult for anyone who lacks green skin. We received one last bird from our man and then nothing. He is either dead, injured so badly he can't send news, or captured."

"His pendant did not work?" the Queen demanded of Keleher.

"His pendant no longer exists," the mage replied.

"And Willam's pendant is still broken?"

"That appears to be the case. The last transmission was his mooning over some elven slut he found attractive and meant to chase. I stopped listening after that since we all know your son's formula for trying to pick up women. I moved on to other tasks. The next time I checked in on the Prince, the pendant was still in Gorgurak, but it would no longer permit me to listen to his conversations."

Hearing this, Willam turned white.

"Is our messenger still stalled in Kizdangengar?" the Queen asked.

"Yes. The current line they are feeding him is that the ballistae troops are actively hunting a wyvern nest in some small town in the western mountains near the border into the wilderness. There is still no response on the fate of Bishop de Ramnerberg, your three agents, or my own agent. The last we heard was when my agent sent the news that your agents were caught in the basement of the first minister's home while the Queen was present in the building. His pendant ceased to exist one day later, as you already know. And before you ask, no, the Bishop has still not used any of the magic tools I gave him to help him escape."

Willam and Cat looked at each other in concern.

"The Bishop may be lost to us then," the Queen scowled. "He was a good tool, but as you know, tools break, and then you must throw them out."

"He knew too much, your Majesty. This may be a good thing in the long run. I know you were fond of him, but he was the hand that removed Queen Eleanor's children for you. He would always be able to hold that over your head. If the goblins have imprisoned him while Willam is still free, then our plan failed to have the goblins execute or imprison Willam and Sven for the murder or assault on the Queen or First Minister."

"He must never return here alive!" she screeched at the Magus, who flinched and then recovered himself.

"Willam's birthday is at the end of the summer. This gives us a year and four months to devise a new approach to remove him before he can challenge the regency law and replace you. Once he is gone, it will be safe to finally remove the ailing Stephano. Your little Aricia gets married to her cousin Crown Prince Egbert Oster, and everything we have worked for all these years will fall into our laps. I will work on a new plan to remove Willam while we wait to see the results of our Gorgurak expedition."

"Very good," the Queen smiled with approval. "You may go now. It is time to have tea with my lovely daughter, the future Queen of Osterius and Nordvek."

Tears were falling down Willam's cheeks, "My own mother. I knew she was insane and selfish, but this? This is beyond redemption. I thought the worst that would happen was that I would become King. Then I would confine her for the rest of her life. I never expected to hear direct proof that she murdered Sophie and tried to kill you or that she means to kill me, Father, and Uncle Sven."

"How long have you suspected her motives?" Cat asked.

"Ever since the interrogation of the man who said he was hired by the Bishop to kill you with a bear. Uncle Sven had an agent in Herman's Close, placed there at his father's request since his father suspected his mother but lacked proof. Father couldn't remove the King of Osterius' sister as Queen of Nordvek without the best of proof, so he had to act with caution. Father planned to bring you home at the end of our trip to Herman's Close.

"Uncle's agent determined the wound on your horse was faked. The Royal Hunstman who declared otherwise was in the Queen's pay. The huntsman mysteriously died in an accident a month later. Uncle's agent also found the bear in its cage off the western highway, outside of Herman's Close. He reported that a spirit beast in the guise of a mountain cat had taken you away to a safer place. I always hoped it was true because I missed you and didn't want you dead. I also don't want to be King."

"You'd be a better choice as king than me," Cat said. "You're charismatic and well-educated. You can fight, you can ride, you can command troops, you have two legs, a working left arm, two whole eyes, and you don't look like you've been thrown in a fire. Being able to look one's King in the face and not feel disgusted is something to consider."

"You are not hideous to look at with a mask over the scar," Willam countered, "especially if you used something like a gilded mask. Put that flaming eye in there, and you'd put fear into people who crossed you. I'm sure you could get a black glass eye from Cloud Eye, where you could magic a fake flame to appear when you wanted. Scary. The Mage King of Nordvek: you'd be mysterious and frightening to your enemies, like Osterius. You're ten times smarter than me, and you always have been. You make friends out of everyone you meet. You would come to the throne with already-made allies of the green elves and the goblins.

"You inspire amazing loyalty in those who follow you, Adray. And you have a guardian spirit beast sent by the gods to look over you. Everything about you screams King to me. How would I even dare to displace you from your rightful throne, brother?"

"What?" Cat laughed. "I don't have a band of loyal followers."

"You don't? What do you call your adopted family members who took you adventuring but work to keep you safe at the same time? I don't know anyone besides my uncle who would do that for me. Did you know that Roaming Wren swore an elvish blood oath, with a dagger through her hand and everything, saying that your hunting party would duel to the death anyone who merely insulted you?"

"Wren did what?" Cat's jaw dropped off his face. He looked at me, "Wren swore a blood oath?"

I nodded.

"You didn't tell me that. Why didn't you tell me that?"

*You would have been upset with her if you had known. I didn't want that, and keeping it from you did no harm.*

"Fuzzy!" Cat looked quite vexed with me.

"My point, big brother, is that you have friends who will put a dagger through their hands for you. I certainly can not say the same. You inspire that sort of loyalty. Someone like you needs to be King," Willam stared at his brother.

Cat stared back. They glowered at one another for several minutes until Owl got up, filled two mugs with water, and poured them over both their heads.

"What did you do that for?" Cat demanded. "I always win my stare-downs! You know that, Owl."

"I didn't want to wait that long. I don't have the money saved up for a coffin yet. We should talk to your uncle and Lady Magrat about this."