As they gradually approached the woods, Clelia noticed that more and more cats joined their procession. They long left behind the butler, who apparently had only been recruited to ring her doorbell, probably using some mental suggestion trick; but the blue eyed grey cat he had been carrying was still leading all of them. They all advanced with their tails raised straight, meaning that the tail was the only visible thing of those of them who walked in the tall weeds rather than the beaten path. By the end, she counted seven rows of six cats each, plus the one leading them all and one yellow eyed black cat at the end, so forty four in total. It was the first time she had seen so many cats all together, but she knew exactly what she was dealing with, and knew that, as long as she was polite and didn't speak out of turn, everything would be fine.

They arrived at an old oak tree, with many branches both reaching for the sky and coming down to the ground, its trunk so wide that, if emptied, it could fit a small but comfortable room inside. Next to the tree, there was a solitary wooden door, its white coat of painting splintered by time and ruined at the bottom by countless claw marks. The cats sat down around the door, except the grey one leading them all, who approached it, looked at her and scratched at it, as if to invite her to knock. Clelia obeyed.

The door opened and, at first appearance, it didn't look like it opened to a place different than the woods behind it. The grey cat entered and she followed. Unsurprisingly, once the door had been crossed, she found herself in a different space, which looked like a high court carved entirely from the inside of a massive tree, much bigger than even the oak she had just seen. There was wooden furniture all over the place, all of it seemingly made for cat needs: climbing poles lined with rope, wooden platforms hanging from the walls, tables of various sizes and heights, bowls with food and water, and piles of pillows, cushions, and comfy padded chairs. This had to be a realmshaped from the dreamscape, much like the ones made by Madame Guillardine.

The procession of cats that accompanied her until that point broke formation, and every one of them quietly trotted inside. Each went to a different spot and many of them picked up doing… the best way to explain it would be to say that they were happily doing chores. Some dusted the floor with pieces of cloth on their tails, some tidied up the pillows so that they were ready to be used again, some cleaned up the crumbs of food around the bowls, a few even did something Clelia could hardly believe she was seeing: in small groups, they cooperated in knitting tiny yarn mittens, scarves, and toy mice, with cat-sized knitting needles shaped in such a way that they'd be easy to pick up and move around with a cat's mouth. The only spot in the wide room where no cat seemed to want to go to, was a big circular pillow in the middle of the big space.

A red furred kitten picked one of the knitting needles, but seemingly couldn't find a partner. Clelia looked around, trying to see if the master of the house was anywhere to be seen, or if any of the other cats would come closer to the kitten to help it. Since nothing happened, she approached it and crouched down, slowly presenting a finger to it so that it could sniff her out. The small furball did so, and then sat staring back at her, expectantly. She sat cross-legged besides it, grabbed the second knitting needle and a woollen thread, silently offering to help. She wasn't an expert at knitting, but she did have an idea of how it was supposed to be done. She was amazed by how nimble these cats were with their paws and mouths, to be able to do an activity she had always assumed required fingers, and the tiny orange furball at her side was no exception. It took them a few tries to get into the swing, but, once they managed to get in synch, they started creating a patch of yarn.

A deep voice boomed in Clelia's head. "That will suffice."

She turned to see that, now, a dragon-sized cat sat on the circular pillow in the middle of the room. Its fur was blacker than the heart of a demon, and its yellow eyes stared into the fairy's very soul with an aura of both dignity and wildness.

All the cats, including the kitten that had been knitting with Clelia, stopped their activities and sat in the same pose as the huge black figure, all with their eyes pointing at it.

"Come closer, fairy."

She got on her feet and obeyed. She made an effort to try and remember all of her tutor's teaching for a proper and dignified walk. The result was probably quite stiff, but she hoped that at least making an honest attempt would count for something. Once she was close enough to clearly see the black whiskers against its black fur (and those whiskers were huge too, longer than one of her legs and almost as thick as her fingers), she stopped and bowed her head, her hands gathered together beneath her stomach.

"I am honoured to be guest at your court, esteemed Gatto Mammone," she pronounced with deliberation.

The tip of its tail, which in its entirety was probably longer than she was tall, slowly wiggled as the deep voice spoke in her mind again, "And I humbly welcome you in my home, noble fairy from the Arania gens. You don't seem very surprised by my presence."

Clelia noted to herself that this cat was too big to maintain the same bodily proportions of a house cat, there had to be some kind of shenanigans at play. "A demon wanders the streets of the village at night. I was informed that it snatches stray animals, but accurately avoids cats. From the moment I learned that I knew there had to be the lair of one of your kind in the area."

"Indeed," the cat proudly puffed its chest, "it tried eating one of us once and there never was a second time."

"I must admit," she continued while letting her eyes wander around the room, "I had heard rumours of how fantastical the court of the Gatto Mammone was supposed to be, but it exceeded any expectation."

The ears of the massive cat, each of them larger than Clelia's own face, straightened up in a new display of pride. "Our court is magnificent not just thanks to my efforts. Each of the cats around you willingly participates to its continued construction and maintenance, and each of them can share in its abundance according to their needs. Even I do my part of the menial labour." Its voice became accusatory, "I don't need servants. The reverence each of them shows me is purely voluntary."

"They must share in some of your power as well," she noted, "because their behaviour is unlike that of any normal cat I've ever met."

"It is true that I share part of my intellect with them, allowing them to cooperate in ways that are normally impossible for regular cats, and to learn the coordination needed for the labour necessary to maintain the court. The shrewdness to test our guests to separate the worthy from the unworthy is all on me, however." The Gatto Mammone pointed its mighty eyes on the kitten Clelia had helped. "I must admit I did not expect an Arania fairy to notice the need to, much less willingly participate in, helping that small one in his task. I reluctantly admit that you exceeded my expectations as well."

"With all due respect, I'm not like the rest of my family."

"Perhaps that is so; to what extent, that yet remains to be seen."

"May I presume to ask the reason for being summoned in your eminent presence?"

Gatto Mammone started leisurely licking the back of its enormous paw. "Have you heard of this fascinating concept, codified by human researchers, that they call 'ecosystem'?"

She shook her head.

The deep voice in her mind continued, "The lack of innate magic in most human individuals, far from being a limiting factor, inspired them to find alternatives to navigate and conquer the world around them. Alchemy is one of the shapes this inspiration took, and it was an alchemist who coined the term. It refers to the way an environment and its inhabitants all interact with one another in a sort of self-sustaining balance. So long as that balance is maintained, the ecosystem prospers."

Still cleaning itself in the process, it glared at Clelia accusingly. "Inserting a disturbance, however, can be an unbalancing factor."

Ah, so that was what it was getting at. Clelia bowed her head again. It was a gesture of respect, sure, but she also used it as an opportunity to look around a little without the big cat noticing. She saw what she was looking for almost immediately. "I can assure you I have no interest in proving to be a disturbance."

Despite the fact that it stopped cleaning itself, its paw still hovered in place, as if its intention was to get back to it in a bit. "How apt that your family uses the spider as its guiding animal. Spiders survive by spinning a thread that is mostly invisible to their prey, then silently waits for something to fall into their trap. It is so phenomenally fitting that you, of all fairy families, use weaving as the craft to give shape to your spells. Humans may be blind to the web being spun around them, but I'm aware of the threads of the evil spell that is starting to take shape, and have been for days now."

Thinking about the spells she had just finished examining, she declared, "I have an idea of what you're referring to. I promise, I do not have any ill intentions towards you or the village that is currently giving me harbour."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

As she imagined, it went back to licking its paw. "If that's true, then I suppose you would not object if I asked you to leave."

She shrugged. "Not at all, that was always my intention."

"Now, I know that fairies of your rank wouldn't usually tolerate receiving…" it stopped dead in its tracks and stared back at her, its tongue still sticking out of its mouth. "…you what?"

"I do ask some more time, though," she continued. "I have some things I'd like to do before leaving. I have made a friend, I'm getting to know my husband a little better, and I've even made an accord with my next door neighbour. I can't abruptly cut all ties with all of them."

After a few awkward seconds, Gatto Mammone finally blinked, probably for the first time since the conversation started. "You mean the Widow? You have an accord with her?"

The Widow… in hindsight, the Babau also referred to her with that moniker. Did Madame use to have a husband then? "If you're referring to the wi… I mean, the Masca known as Madame Guillardine, the answer is yes, I do have an accord with her."

The huge cat looked away for a moment (Clelia had the distinct impression it was thinking something along the lines of "so that's what she's been up to"), then regained its composure. "If that's the case, then why did I feel strong malignant energies acting up within your house today?"

Clelia fidgeted with the bridge of her glasses. "I'm afraid I can't go into detail, I'll just say that I've been dealing with… baggage from my family. But I can assure you that my intention, from the very start, was to cut all ties with them. I don't want to be associated with them or their plans, much less help them."

After pondering for a few moments, the cat announced, "Then I will temporarily and tentatively accept your presence. With a couple of non negotiable conditions."

"I'm listening."

"First and foremost: I reserve the right to change my mind about tolerating your presence for any reason at any time. I'm reasonably sure you didn't say anything false right now, however I'm well aware that lies can take many forms, many of which don't require to state outright falsehoods; so, while I'm willing to show you some good will, I won't put myself or my retinues in a bad spot if you choose to infringe upon our agreements."

Clelia nodded. "Seems fair. What else?"

"To make sure you don't pose any threat to us, I want to be able to keep a close eye on you. One of us will be with you at all times, and any attempt on your part to do anything like closing them out of the room you're in, or…"

"What? I'm sorry but that's unacceptable. It's fine if you want one of your own to be in the vicinities so that you can better sense any magical activity, but I don't want someone to listen to each and every word I say to my husband or my friend, or to stare at me while I'm… in private."

"I said the terms are non negotiable."

She crossed her arms and raised her chin. "Well, then I suppose I won't be tied down to any agreement either. If you chose to meet me in person and try to discuss things with me, I assume you're not confident you can chase me away with brute strength alone. Either we discuss your second term again or I will consider myself free to do as I please from now on, without any concern of what you may like or dislike me doing."

The cat's tail moved erratically as its eyes widened. She knew cats well enough to be able to tell that this was a silent display of anger. "Very well, young fairy. I invoke the faerie traditional way of dealing with an impasse such as this: a trial."

She raised a brow. "I accept. As per tradition, if I can't pass I will have to accept your conditions and if I do you will have to accept mine. I will invoke the judgement of the foremothers if your trial is unfair."

The cat nodded. "Let's get started, then. When you came into my court, forty four cats entered with you. Far more of them are inside right now. You may notice that some seem to appear twice, and that's because some cats are illusions. Some of the cats that only appear once may or may not be illusions too, and some of the real cats may have already been inside the court before you entered. No cat may appear more than twice, and if they do appear twice one of the two has to be real. Without using magic or your 'tide' and without touching them, I want you to point at one that entered with you. It has to be the real one, not an illusion. You'll have to tell me how you reached your answer too: I won't accept a good response if you got it by chance."

Clelia immediately looked around herself. Indeed, the cats now appeared to be no less than a couple of hundreds. The grey cat with the M pattern on its forehead, the one that guided the procession towards the court and the easiest to recognise among them, appeared twice, of course. The young fairy's gaze lingered on both versions of that cat for long enough to determine that, despite being apart, they moved in unison at all times, proving that one had to be an illusion indeed.

Her eyes darted around for a few more moments, seeing a few black cats, one with its ear missing, one with a snapped tail; then, they locked on the one yellow-eyed black cat she had noticed being at the back of the procession before they entered, as well as the detail she had looked for when she and Gatto Mammone were talking. She smirked.

Smugly meeting the cat's gigantic golden eyes again, she pointed her finger at a small black cat. "That cat over there was the one at the end of the procession that led me here. There are other black cats here too, but I can recognise that one because it's the only one here that has both ears and its tail intact."

"How do you know it's not an illusion?"

Her smirk widened. "Because, as per your rules, if a cat appears twice then one of them has to be an illusion."

"That cat only appears once," Gatto Mammone flatly replied.

"Except," Clelia continued, "that what you're saying right now is a lie. Tigers, lions, lynx, and all other big cats have different body proportions compared with house cats. That's not coincidental, that's because the body shape and proportions of a house cat work well at house cat size, not so well on a bigger animal. In the same way, the tiny sparrow and the mighty albatross don't have the same wing span in proportion with the rest of their body. In addition to that, I've seen that a cat and their illusion move in unison. When you were cleaning yourself before, I sneaked a peek in the crowd of cats around me and saw that only one of them was cleaning itself in the same, indulgent way."

She turned and met the golden yellow eyes of the small black cat. "This one that I'm looking at right now is your real form, and that gigantic one I've been talking to was an illusion all along."

After a handful of second of stunned silence, the black cat closed its eyes and all the illusions, including the massive one, vanished like reflections on disturbed waters. The voice echoing in Clelia's mind, while still sounding deep and raspy, acquired a distinctly feminine character. "Right you are. I am the real Gatto Mammone. Name your conditions, young fairy."

Treading on the same dirt path she had used on the way to the feline court, Clelia headed back for the village. This time, only one cat accompanied her.

The black cat, calmly trotting with her tail held high, commented, "I will have to deliver my retribution, sooner or later."

Clelia crossed her arms. "What are you talking about? I thought my conditions were fairly reasonable, lenient even, considering that I won your challenge."

"That's precisely the reason, young one," the voice rebutted. "Cats are proud creatures, and faerie cats, such as I, even more so. It makes it look like you took pity on us."

"I do not pity you," Clelia replied. "The reason why I agreed to being put under your surveillance after all, albeit with the addition of respecting my privacy, is that I fully understand your concerns, and I don't want to come off as dangerous to your subjects."

The cat scoffed. "Don't call them my 'subjects', because that implies me to be some kind of monarch. I reject that title and everything it represents."

"Still, you take care of them and their safety, do you not? That's why you want to make sure nothing threatens them."

"I possess might that they, as regular cats, lack. It is only right I use it to protect them from forces that they'd be powerless against."

Clelia smiled. "Exactly. Even if I won your trial, I didn't want to punish your intent, so I sought terms that would be acceptable for both, rather than just thinking of what's convenient for myself."

The cat locked eyes with her. "I think I'm starting to understand now."

Clelia tilted her head. "Understand what?"

Turning her attention back at the path, the cat seemingly changed topics. "Humans are fascinating. They're crafty, but they're also extremely foolish. Because of that, there sometimes is somewhat of a fine line between noble behaviour and foolishness, when they're involved."

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I follow."

The cat stopped and sat down. "I'll be going my way, from now on. I don't need to tail you so closely to keep an eye on you, not with the terms you established."

Clelia sighed, giving up on the answer, but then gave the Gatto Mammone a sweet parting smile. "I hope I see you again. Today's visit to your court certainly left a strong impression."

"It certainly did," nodded the cat.

Before jumping off into the tall grass, the cat left one last remark, "Don't discount your husband: he's truly loyal to you."

The fairy was left alone with that phrase echoing her mind. Why would the Gatto Mammone feel the need to say something like that? Damian had been kind to her, and, now that they'd started getting closer, spending time with him was becoming a lot more pleasant, but she never thought about it in terms of loyalty. What did that mean?

Clelia realised that, until that very moment, she had barely considered his thoughts and feelings in the matter. In fact, unless he had been directly involved and present in front of him, she had barely even thought that he might have his own autonomous emotions and objectives concerning their marriage. Concerning their relationship. There was much she was hiding from him, was there something he was hiding from her too?

Truly loyal, the cat had said. Again, what did that mean? Was there… no, that would be absurd. There was no chance he had feelings for her. Or was there? After all, she had asked herself the same question once already, when they were together at the café. Could it be that he had been acting a little cold and distant because of that?

She shook her head. She thought back at his gorgeous eyes, his graceful face, his strong hands… the glimpse she caught of his collarbones, the sensation of her hands encountering his muscles beneath his sleeves. There was no way a boy with that kind of beauty could be interested in her, not in that sense at least.

With a smile, she didn't cover up her blushing cheeks. It was a nice thought though.