Like usual, Cat was using me as a heat source in the bed, mugging me from behind, his arms around my neck and threatening to choke me, except he isn't strong enough, thank goodness. I have to wonder what's going to happen when he gets married. I hope the future wife likes cats. It would be difficult if he had to marry a dog person. I can tell you now if it came to a showdown between her and me, the dog person and her yappy barky dog would lose.

Unfortunately, little yappy lap dogs don't taste good, so the obvious way to get rid of one wasn't on the menu.

I was chasing a whole caribou herd in my dreams when a knock awakened me. Cat slept through it, but that's okay. If it was something I could take care of, he could keep sleeping. I put one forepaw on the wall and depressed the latch with the other. Father Garshom was with Lord Estevan at the door. They were both dressed as if they were both ready for travel. That set alarms off in my head.

"Fuzzy? Is Cat awake?" Garshom asked in a soft voice. "There's something I think you both need to see, and then we need to use the crystal ball."

*I will wake him.* I turned and leapt on the bed. The quickest way to get Cat up was with my adroit usage of my raspy and very cleansing longitudinalis superior with an appropriate load of slobber applied to the peach fuzz of my boy’s nose and chin.

"You dismal failure of a divine agent, take your raspy dish rag of doom and get it out of my face," Cat protested, sitting up and scooting backward to get away from me. It works every time to wake him up, even if he threatens to banish me to sleep on the floor. He's never followed through with that threat. Father Garshom and Lord Estevan had already walked in and were lighting the lamps.

*Sorry, Cat. It looks like something is up. I don't know what it is yet, but our companions requested we bring the scrying ball.*

Cat’s ire vanished instantly. "Father Garshom, what has happened? Do I need to dress?"

"Let me help you," the old priest said. That got all of my and Cat’s attention. For Garshom to get Cat dressed meant something serious was in the offing.

"I'll meet you on the battlements," Lord Estevan let himself out. His sense of propriety was first-rate.

"Braies and old hosen or new-style hosen, Cat?" Garshom was already into Cat’s clothes chest.

"New style, please, long chemise, the yellow short-skirted doublet, the blue houppelande, and the yellow and blue chaperon," Cat knew exactly what he wanted. This trip has been good for him. He's been getting more decisive and vocal about his preferences, which I think is a good thing.

Garshom tossed a yellow pair of new-style hosen, complete with one of those silly codpiece flaps that tie in the front. All of Cat's hosen have left legs that end like a tube below the knee. He gathered the rest of Cat's clothes while Cat's wrestled his way into the hosen. Pulling the left leg up was more difficult for Cat than tying the drawstring at the waist, but he managed to do it on his own by now. It wasn't elegant. He pulled on the hosen while on his back with his legs waving in the air. He usually did it on the mattress, but if there was no mattress, he would use the floor.

Cat then threw the chemise on. This was the one place he needed help. "Father Garshom? Could you please tie my shirt laces?"

Mounting of the false leg was next. Cat slid the leg contraption into the left boot of the yellow pair of thigh-high boots, pulled it on, and started doing the many hidden straps. The right boot went on in seconds with just two garter straps above and below the knee. By the time Cat pulled on his boots, Garshom had all the throwing spikes loaded into the wrist sheath inside the right sleeve of the doublet. He also loaded all the pouches for glasses, eyes, and the crystal ball onto the leather belt decorated with the gold plaques of cougar heads. The belt was a gift that the Goblin Queen picked out for Cat.

It only took a moment more to dress Cat completely, including the safety pins for the chain of leaves. Between Cat and Father Garshom, getting the boy all tricked out had taken less than five minutes. I was startled when Garshom dropped one of the green riding pads on my back and did the three straps that held it on. "There, now you look like you belong to someone," he grinned at me, the wretch. "Fuzzy, can you take Cat up the stairs to the battlements? It's three flights of stairs."

Cat got on and fitted the feet of his boots in the stirrup strap. Then we were off, following a running Garshom up the stairs. What greeted us was indeed alarming.

The battlements on the top level of the Vogelberg fortress have a view 30 leagues in every direction but east. The view to the east is blocked by the glacier-covered summit of the Vogelberg itself.

Everyone was on the battlements, excluding the three youngest of the Viscounty children. Johan looked down at the shorter Cat and ran off. He returned with a step stool which he put down next to Cat. My boy could barely see over the battlements, but the step stool put his head above the top of the stones.

"Thanks, Johan," he clapped the younger boy on the shoulder. "This is a big help, and oh boy, I do not like the looks of that." I had jumped up on top of the battlements and had an excellent view, especially with my farsighted eyes.

Some thirty leagues away due west, the smudge that was Tammerhof was illuminated by a great fire centered on the two highest buildings: the Temple of the Mother Goddess Matadee the Merciful and the Royal Palace.

"The watch reported seeing a bright flash of light in Tammerhof," Viscountess Alianora told Cat. "Then they heard a great rumbling noise. What you see now, Your Highness, is about a third to half an hour after the bright light, which must have been some kind of explosion."

Cat stepped off the step and pulled out the crystal. "Fuzzy, you’re better at this than I am. Find my father and Aricia, please." I jumped off the wall and joined him as Willam and Sven walked up behind Cat and watched over his shoulder.

He held the crystal cradled in his hands, and I dropped into a scrying trance. What I saw was upsetting. It appeared that the Royal Palace's north wing, which housed the kitchens, buttery, brewery, stores, wine cellars, and administrative offices, had suffered some kind of explosion. It was engulfed in flames, and the fire was spreading into the rest of the building. The fire had spread by wind to the Temple across the open square between the two structures. They shared the highest part of Tammer Butte, the flat-topped mountain on which the city was built.

I saw so many inexplicable things in the crystal that when I came out of my trance, I commanded the flying carpet to come to me on the battlements.

When it arrived, I had it make a stair up the inner wall of the battlement walkway so that everyone could climb on with ease.

*It is good that those of you who should accompany me are dressed for travel. Those who use swords should take weapons from the watch. I will not waste time for those who do not already have them to get their own. I recommend that Father Garshom, Duke Valgard, Duchess Dora, Count Henri, Duke Sven, and both princes come with me.*

"I should go," the short and round Viscountess insisted.

I must have reacted with an expression of disbelief because Lord Estevan defended his wife. "Lady Fuzzy, Alianora is the best fighter in the fortress, her chainmail is underneath her functional short-hemmed work gown, and her axe and buckler are already on her belt."

*Please join us, Viscountess. Will everyone get on? I will explain as we travel.*

"Why am I taking orders from a cougar?" Duke Valgard grumped.

"My experience with Fuzzy suggests that if she thinks this is what we need to do, then this is what we need to do," Father Garshom glared at the old Duke.

Duke Valgard shrugged, "If that's your opinion, then what are we waiting for?" He started relieving the nearby soldiers of their swords. He passed out the weapons to the unarmed, namely himself, Garshom, and Henri. Willam, Sven, Dora, and Alianora showed up armed.

Flying the carpet was easy for most of the trip. I cast the barrier and the spell for straight and level flight. Once in effect, neither spell required much work. Having set up the carpet, I then told the passengers what I saw in the crystal.

*I will be brief. I can not explain much of what I saw. What I did observe requires immediate action on our part. The Royal Palace and Temple are both on fire. The north wing of the Royal Palace looks like there was a large explosion. It is mostly gone, and the square has debris strewn about in a semi-circular pattern often seen in explosions. The Regent's Guard is doing a decent job of getting people out of both burning buildings. There do not appear to be mages who can put out fires other than Beaver Tooth and Cloud Eye. Andray, your mother and Sleeping Willow are down in the closest House of the Sisters of Matadee's Hands, healing injuries and burns. The Sahkeena, disguised as one of Matadee's Sisters, is with your mother and cousin. She's taken over part of that organization's response to the victims coming in. Wren, Owl, Fox, Proud Elk, and Storm Eagle, all dressed as adventurers, are part of a unit of city guards, Regent guards, and volunteers who are wetting nearby buildings to keep the fire from spreading. They are evacuating the northwest portions of the city. Many in the dungeon under the south wing are dead from the effects of the explosion. Estella de Teep is not one of them. She appears to be in charge of one of the units evacuating the northwest quarter, and the Regent's Guards are following her orders. The Queen is in the throne room and refuses to leave. Magus Keleher is missing, along with the King and Princess Aricia.*

"Did someone attack the Royal Palace?" Willam wondered. "Why would it explode?"

"I believe I can explain that," said Father Garshom, surprising everyone.

*Rock gas?* I guessed. I knew rock gas was associated with the sediments of ancient swamps under Tammer Butte.

"Yes, Lady Fuzzy," he wore a grim expression, "rock gas. The square between the Temple and the Royal Palace was once a place where flares appeared. Those inexplicable flares convinced our ancestors that Tammer Butte was holy ground. The flares continued to appear until about a thousand years ago. Even now, we don't know why they self-ignited. Regardless, they became a danger as the city grew over the centuries. Our ancestors discovered the source of the rock gas. They vented the Temple and sealed the surface of the square to stop the flares.

"Tammer Butte is mostly flat on top because of a layer of basalt underneath its topsoil. The Royal Palace and Temple are located on the large hill on the west edge of the butte, which rises above the basalt layer. The Royal Palace's cellars and dungeon are floored by basalt. The Temple is different and has a sub-basement floored by rocks similar to those with coal and tar seeps in them.

"The Temple is much older than the Royal Palace. When the square and surrounding streets were sealed a thousand years ago, an acolyte set off a small explosion shortly afterward when lighting the candles in the crypt. Since then, the temple staff has opened the underground vents once a week for a thousand years. Those vents have openings in the vertical cliff face of the butte, grills cut into the rock many feet high but only a few fingers wide to keep out invaders.

"All able-bodied persons, from the Bishop down to the lowest pot scrubber, must man the great bellows to vent the air in the sub-basement and the secret tunnel between the crypt and the wine cellar of the Royal Palace. I suspect my replacement as Bishop of Tammerhof did not bother with the venting ritual. I heard he didn't believe it was necessary, given there has been no evidence of rock gas for a thousand years. The most plausible cause of an explosion is that rock gas traveled up the secret tunnel from the crypt into the Royal Palace's wine cellar. The tunnel is recent, only three hundred years old."

Duke Sven growled when Father Garshom finished, "Only the Bishop, the King, and the King's children learn of the tunnel. The children are told only when they come of age at seventeen, now sixteen under the Regent."

The look in Sven's eyes was murderous, "So we have another crime to lay at the feet of Bishop Geralt de Ramnerburg. I'm looking forward to his trial and execution. No doubt, he is suffering his punishment from the goblins. I wonder how far he's managed to walk?"

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"What did the goblins do to the soon-to-be-former Bishop of Tammerhof?" Viscountess Alianora asked while sitting crosslegged and sharpening her axe head. "I haven’t heard any of this news yet."

"The Bishop's four henchmen that my mother embedded in my ballistae troops were executed for the attempted murder of the Elven Princess Roaming Wren," Willam's growl was indistinguishable from his Uncle Sven's. "The Bishop, out of consideration of his priesthood, was granted the mercy of not being executed. Instead, he was stripped naked, and every part of him was shaved. He was sentenced to walk naked and barefoot back to Nordvek while wearing a yoke and gag. He is banned from ever entering Gorgurak ever again on pain of death."

"Merciful Matadee, what a shame they didn’t lob off his head," the Viscountess tested the edge of her axe with a grim smile.

"That would have been too good for him," Willam remarked. "His henchmen were quartered, not decapitated."

"Gruesome but effective," Alianora decided. "I wonder how soon the Bishop will arrive home? A trial for that snake would be welcome."

"He’s thirty-seven leagues from the border crossing," Father Garshom smiled malevolently. "He's made very little progress because the blisters on his feet keep getting infected. One can only hope that Mother Matadee is indeed merciful and takes him from this life before he arrives at the border."

My boy suddenly broke into his crowd-winning smile, with a huge side order of innocence and guilelessness, and a golden halo of sainthood. This apotheosis of smiles was aimed right at Father Garshom. The good priest had the wisdom to look wary.

"Dearest Father Garshom," the sincerity in my boy’s voice caught the attention of everyone on the carpet, "how is it that you know exactly how far the good Bishop has walked when none of us has had any way to communicate with the goblins, other than by scrying with other mages?" His honest face in the pursuit of knowledge would warm the heart of any teaching professional.

"I...I received a message via messenger owl from Queen Margo," Father Garshom confessed in a level voice.

"Ah, that explains it then," Cat smiled even wider, "a message from the Goblin Queen carried by an elven messenger owl would indeed place such news at your disposal with timely dispatch. Pray tell, when were you planning on sharing it with the rest of us; or maybe I should say, with those you still need to share it with? Did you know about this, Fuzzy?"

*Not at all.* Cat knew my mental voice so well that he could tell I wasn't lying. I could tell from the carefully-neutral looks on Valgard's, Dora's, and Sven's faces that they already knew Garshom's news.

"I’m sure it was just a simple oversight," Cat’s lack of accusation stabbed Garshom where Cat had already wounded him and turned the knife like an apple corer.

"By Helle’s ice, since when did you start weaponizing that smile of yours?" Garshom whimpered.

Cat just smiled in reply.

*Andray, now that you have had your fun torturing Father Garshom, I do have thoughts and questions for you. We will be in Tammerhof in just a few minutes. I have three concerns: you, your father, and your sister. If I know you are safe, I can start searching for your father and sister. That leads me to a question: what will the rest of you do when we arrive. I have my own thoughts on this, but I want to hear what others think. Andray?*

"It's frightening when you call me that, Fuzz."

*Your childhood is behind you, Your Royal Highness, and the time of pretending you were just another boy is behind you. Your childhood left you four years ago, and you know it, but now you must face it. Are you a mage and healer with inconvenient royal blood, or are you the Crown Prince coming to rescue your future kingdom?*

"Can we talk about this later?" Cat's brows knitted together, and his mouth turned down.

*I know you too well, Cat. Whenever you are pushed to the wall, a mantle of authority drops out of the sky and onto your shoulders. When you speak, people listen because there is something in your voice and demeanor that compels them. When you make a decision, you always know why. If questioned, your answers reveal that you have a clear moral compass behind your decisions. I begin to think that your sister, Wren, is right. You have the makings of a King. So when you walk off this carpet into your city, will you accept your birthright, or will you run away from it?*

"We don't need to do this now, Fuzz," he shook his head. "We just need to find my father and sister and protect them from the Regent and her henchmen. Just that one thing will win this little undeclared war for us."

*People will want to know, you fool, who the little man is who speaks with such giant command and wears his charisma more comfortably than his stockings. So, who are you to those panicked, leaderless subjects of Nordvek? Will you lead them, or will you run away?*

"Fuzz," he was beginning to look annoyed at me when his eyes widened. "May the Lady save us! Cloud Eye!" A tremendous rumbling noise grew in volume as a wall of flame broke through the Royal Palace's roof, where it met the wall on the north side. The wall teetered toward the square where Beaver Tooth and Cloud Eye attempted weather magic to rain away the fire.

"Μει δε γενεδε ἐν κρηφτ φαν Ενλεελ, μειε δε τολε ινεν δε ρâλδ ἐν δ μυορρεν στιλ âλδε σα λανγ ἀς γοαδεν ἰτ ταστεαν!" Cat shouted the spell of stasis, pulling out a large amount of his magical power to stop the debris from the collapsing wall from falling on the two elves, who were now running for their lives.

Stasis is never cast at this scale and lasts less than a minute. The common saying among mages is that stasis endures only for as long as the act that makes children. I've always assumed that the act referred to making human children. If it were salmon, for example, it would only take a second since female salmon lay their eggs in gravel, and males swim over and squirt their sperm on the eggs. That's it. The stasis spell does not depend on how long salmon take to have sex.

Regardless, the oversized stasis spell worked though I could tell Cat was struggling. Garshom and Dora ran over, put their hands on his shoulders, and passed some of their magical stamina to my boy. I couldn't. I had to land the carpet where it would be safe.

I chose a spot between the enclosure wall for the Temple and the decorative bushes that lined it on the inside. Dora and Garshom helped an unsteady Cat off the carpet while the rest rolled it up and pushed it next to the wall, out of sight to any casual passer-by.

We heard, rather than saw, the wall's debris finally hit the ground. Willam ran into the square on his own, calling Cloud Eye's name. He was back in a moment with a winded Cloud Eye and Beaver Tooth. They both wore black cat masks.

"Cat!" Cloud Eye ran up to my boy and wrapped him in a hug. Duke Valgard was startled and then started to draw his sword.

Sven stopped him, "Uncle, he's one of the prince's best friends." By now, Beaver Tooth joined the embrace. Both elves were significantly taller than my boy, who was slightly shorter than Viscountess Alianora.

"It’s only been five days," Cat protested.

Beaver Tooth and Cloud Eye stood back from Cat, but Beaver Tooth grabbed both of Cat's shoulders, "Cat Rider, that spell had your aura written all over it. Thank you for that, my boy. Oh, I believe I hear the rest of the people you just saved."

A squad of twelve men in Regent's Royal Guard uniforms came running into the cramped space between the bushes and the wall.

"See, Captain, I told you saw a flying carpet," a young guard remarked to a man in an upscale uniform in the Regent’s colors of olive green with rose pink facings.

"These may be the traitors the Queen was telling us about," the Captain began to pull his sword out.

Beaver Tooth grabbed his wrist and stopped him, "Captain, this is the young mage who just saved you from that falling wall. In fact, I see three mages in this company of carpet riders, all of whom I know and can help get this fire out. Besides, it is not wise to pull your sword at a man wearing the regalia of the royal house of the Green Elves. Cat Rider is a Prince."

Willam turned away and bit his finger to keep from laughing. The Captain’s face was a symphony of confusion.

"Mage? Prince?" He let his sword slide back into its scabbard. "He doesn’t look like an elf. Where are the funny clothes?"

The Captain spoke with the accent of someone from Zugg or Gan, so he came from the border marches. That fit the description of the Regent’s Royal Guard with its Osterian personnel.

"Captain," Cat's perfect friendly smile broke out, "I was born with the elvish sun disease. I was also in a bad fire with my brother, Motley Owl." His accent was one hundred percent elvish. "We are both scarred with burns. As for me, the Sun disease lightens the skin, changes hair and eye color, and stunts growth. Most sun disease sufferers die before they are twenty, and I am only sixteen. As for the clothes, they were a gift from the Goblin Queen because she knew I intended to travel to Nordvek with my fellow wyvern hunter, Prince Willam."

"Don’t underestimate him," Sven strolled up to Cat and put a protective hand on his shoulder. "He’s one of the best mages the elves have ever trained. This young elf has killed two wyverns with his magic. He came here to help. We saw the fire from the battlements of Vogelberg and traveled as fast as we could. And we brought a fourth mage to help who Beaver Tooth has not met yet."

Sven clasped his aunt’s hand a drew her forward, "This is my aunt, the Princess Consort Dora de Welk, Duchess of Valltol, an excellent mage in her own right."

All the talking and the mix of half-truths and prevarication had undermined the Captain's confidence in the face of an elven Prince, a Duchess, and Duke Sven. "I meant no offense, my lords and ladies," he bowed respectfully to my boy. "If you would pardon my boorish behavior, Your Grace," he took the Duchess' hand and bowed as he kissed it. "We had a warning that a party traveling on a flying carpet was visiting nobles wanting to revolt. What were you all doing at the fortress of Vogelberg? That's not a spot for tourists, even ones who are mages."

"Well, that's easy to answer," the Viscountess barged forward to stand next to Cat, "since I am the lord pro tempore of the Vogelberg and Vogeltal. This young man was visiting my father along with the Duke and Duchess of Valltol when my father told him that white bird flowers were currently in bloom in the pass. They are an essential ingredient for a medicine that helps with the dreaded sun disease. Are you familiar with that affliction? It causes the elves suffering from it to break out in huge painful hives that blister and burst. This poor boy can't go outside during the day without using this medicine, and as you surely know, the plant only grows in the pass. That's one of the reasons it is protected under Nordvek law."

I was very glad cougars don't laugh out loud because the real reason the law prohibits the collection of white bird flowers is that they make a powerful aphrodisiac. Were all Nordvekkian nobles such good and inventive liars? These were amazingly-good lies with just enough truth to be plausible.

"You said there were four mages," the Captain protested, sniffing something was wrong and fishing around to find it.

"Ah yes," Beaver Tooth nodded. "The gentleman in the black houppelande is Cat Rider's tutor in magic, who is traveling with him." Garshom nodded his head politely. The Captain did not recognize him. If the Captain was from Osterius, he might have never seen the notorious Father Garshom before now.

"You might find the last mage in our traveling party a bit odd," Cat informed the Captain. "This is Lady Fuzzy, a magical creature who lives in the Greenwood and travels with me," he rested his hand on my head and scratched. "I believe she's what you call a spirit beast in Nordvek."

The Captain took a step back, "That’s a...a…I thought that was someone’s pet!"

*Yes, Captain, I am a cougar. I am no one’s pet.* Time was running by, so I tried to steal the conversation back and return to business. *Fellow mages, we have a fire to put out. Shall we stop wasting valuable time? The fire should knock down quickly with this many of us on hand. Once it is out, we can start the search for any survivors.*

"About that," Willam stepped forward, "Captain Grieg, where is my family? Are my father, mother, and sister safe?"

"Highness!" the Captain and his men saluted. "Your mother is in the throne room. She refuses to leave. I have heard nothing regarding the whereabouts of the King and Princess Royal."

"Did you speak with the Queen yourself?" Duke Valgard demanded.

"Who are you?" the Captain’s tone of voice was clipped and arrogant.

"I’m your superior, ensign," growled the old Duke. "As the senior officer in the army commanding troops, I trump everyone here."

"I answer only to the Regent and General Milates, the commander of the Regent's Guard."

"How, by the ice of Helle, did you get to be an officer?" The Duke shouted. "It's in the first chapter of the army rules, under the trivial heading of 'hierarchy.' The penalty for insubordination is decapitation. In an emergency, the offending soldier may be executed immediately in the presence of three other nobles or officers as witnesses. Henri, Sven, Alianora, will you be witnesses for me?"

*CHILDREN! We are wasting time, and the fire is not getting smaller. Quit squabbling. We must put the fire out before it spreads into the city. We can arrange search parties immediately afterward. Come, to the middle of the square.*

I looked up at Cat, *You should ride. Your stamina is drooping.*

"Oh, I get it now," Captain Grieg smirked at my boy as he struggled to get his left boot into the stirrup strap. "Cat Rider! That makes perfect sense as a name. I guess a horse was too tall."

Why am I surrounded by idiots and lesser beings? My temper snapped. I walked up to the rude bastard and bit him through the calf. Then I stepped on his neck when he fell. I had already cast a barrier so the swords and spears of the Regent’s Guard did not bother me.

Growling and showing off my sharp and elongated cuspids, currently covered in his blood, I got right into his face. Once again, I regretted my lack of halitosis. I needed to stop chewing mint after every meal to keep my mouth clean if I was to spend more time attacking stupid humans needing lectures on manners.

*Look here, you pussified putrid pile of poo, insulting my Prince is a good way to find an early end to the terminal illness called chronic human rudeness. You might want to leave town before then.*

Because giving people the runs was getting old as a petty retribution, I gave him an irritated urinary tract every time he drank alcohol instead. That would give him something to remember me by if he decided to escape home to Osterius.

I removed my paw from his neck and trotted into the square to extinguish a fire.