Jenna and Bu only sit, not touching the food on their plates. Jenna turns to Bu. “Let
’s eat,” she says. “We don’t know when our next meal may be. This could even be our last.” Bu lifts his fork and starts nibbling on what seems to be brisket, more or less picking at the food, as a similar feeling of guilt as my own flows over him. He feels helpless.
“We are going to get through this,” I whisper. “Just stick to the plan.” I then catch Lupa
’s eyes, which watch Gunthreon’s every move. He nods toward her, and she at Conner. Conner walks toward Lupa and sits next to her, whispering something in her ear. She laughs loudly and then hugs Conner and kisses him lightly on the lips. She actually makes a bit of a scene, unbuttoning the top buttons of her shirt for air, as I turn red in the cheeks. She’s apparently an expert flirt. The cats around us begin to stare at them.
I stand quickly from my chair and march toward Conner and Lupa.
“Hands off, please,” I snarl at Lupa.
“Oh, calm down, Kailey. You are so jealous all the time!” says Lupa, still smiling, with her arm around Conner.
I tug her arm off of Conner and all the cats pull in a breath, simultaneously.
Standing, and speaking i
n her most annoyed voice she barks, “You are such a bitch, Kailey!”
“You bring out the best in me, don
’t you? Stop flaunting yourself in front of Conner!” Bu looks up from his brisket. Without warning, Lupa splashes her drink in my face. This shocks me, because I totally didn’t expect it, but I go with the flow, grabbing at her and pulling out the hair extension she put in for the occasion. A nearby cat’s mouth drops at the sight, spilling out food.
“Stop it, stop it!” Michel yells, clearly annoyed. “You
’re ruining the party!” Leon walks over to Michel and whispers something in his ear. “Kailey, why don’t you come up here and sit at the head table?” says Michel. “It’s clear you two need to be separated even further.”
I hesitate. “I
’m sorry,” I say. “I am so sorry for the disturbance. It’s just our Lupa here seems to not be able to keep her hands to herself.” Lupa lunges at me, but Bu grabs her and holds her back. “See?” I say.
“Up here now!” Michel has a juggernaut add an empty seat at his table, right in
-between Michel and Ladimer—thank karma. Gunthreon believed Michel would want me near, to admire my feistiness closely. “Sorry, everyone,” he says. “We seem to have the ‘catfight’ under control.” Michel laughs, generating nervous laughter throughout the crowd.
“Yes, sir,” I say. I grab my bag and walk up front. On the way, I steal a glance at Gunthreon, and he seems satisfied. I needed to get the closest I could to Ladimer, and we couldn
’t have gotten any better an option than this.
I brush Ladimer
’s shoulder as we pass. He feels my energy near him and tries to lean in for more. As soon as I am seated, I reach under the table and grab his leg. He shudders and I already feel my energy flowing to him. I see his excitement revealed in manly fashion, and he adjusts his hide.
“Everyone, continue on please.” Michel then turns to me, touching my shoulder, softly, and whispering to me, “I
’ll allow you to converse with your friend. He hasn’t much time left. But after, your attention must be mine.” Michel then sees Gunthreon walking around. Curious, he gets up and walks in his direction.
I whisper to Ladimer, “What did they do to you?”
“They called in a shaman.” Ladimer’s voice is raspy. “He tried to drain me of my power. Pretty ironic, eh? The torturer tortured by the tortured. Another little setback created by karma. See why I can’t ever make a mistake like that again?”
“I see that. I
’m sorry.”
“Don
’t be sorry, Kailey. Everything happens for a reason.”
“Did they really drain you of your power?” I
ask. “Is that even possible? What can I do?” My powers sense nothing from him—no vibration, no movement, no layers of emotion whatsoever. I only feel as though he’s running on empty.
Ladimer gathers enough strength to smile mischievously at me, making my blood pump a little faster.
“Within reason, of course,” I murmur, giving him a stern look, attempting to disregard the increase in heart rate.
“I
’m too weak to do anything, so a little kickstart might start me up. Too bad Michel can’t tell if he needs to watch us or Gunthreon,” he says, watching Michel.
“
Skin-to-skin contact is best for me.” I look to his face and the lack of energy sickens me.
I close my eyes and imagine our kiss above Greer, but my nerves won
’t settle, because I’m too afraid as Michel eyes our table after seating Gunthreon. My eyes settle on Conner, who sits patiently, moving around food on his plate with his fork. He looks up to me, knowing what my goal is—clearly not liking it—but willing to do what is necessary to save lives.
“Only do what you
’re comfortable with, Kailey,” responds Ladimer.
Conner turns his gaze away from me and I then bend over near Ladimer and put my hand over my mouth, like I am whispering to him, but in fact I gently kiss his ear. I smell his sweat. He takes in a quick breath and I feel a spark of power from within him. I kiss him again and exhale in his ear, slowly. He shudders and suddenly his energy flows, warm and fluid. As I feel it reaching to me, my eyes widen at the sudden heat of his desire—hot and unquenched. I want to give in and allow his energy to engulf me.
He looks up and the need in his eyes is relentless.
He wants me, badly, and I long for the touch of his magic, but know what I must do. “Keep your face down,” I say to him, seemingly breaking the frenzy rising in him.
“Okay,” he grunts, suddenly looking down. “That was good. Very good.” His energy feels restored and even overflowing.
I leave him and sneak over to Nayla. “Nayla, are you hurt bad?”
“No, just a little cut,” she responds. “Kailey, you need to get out of here and soon. Michel is—,”
“Michel is what?” Michel leans over the table, bringing his face close to ours. “Nayla, you wouldn
’t be spilling any secrets, now, would you?” Nayla sinks lower in her chair, and Michel’s energy spews conceit, making my anger flare. He’s cocky, and holds no fear of what his actions may spark.
I give Michel a glare that could kill. “She was only telling me you plan on cutting off Ladimer
’s head with a sword!” I say. Ladimer looks up, then quickly puts his head back down. I feel certain that Michel won’t think of the door carving.
“Nayla. You
did
give our secret up! No dessert for you,” says Michel. “Well, since the surprise is ruined, I suppose we must simply continue. Guards!” Two juggernauts come at Michel’s command. “Fetch me my lovely one, please.”
Michel hands one of the guards a key as he moves closer to the crowd, and the guard heads toward a lovely armoire that seems to be made of solid gold. The key fits perfectly into the lock, and as it is turned, the armoire plays a beautiful tinkling song, like a giant music box. The doors slowly open, and a long drawer extends outward. The guard reaches in and removes a shining, tri-colored metal sword, far more beautiful than the piece of furniture that sheltered it. The crowd murmurs, and the guard’s eyes become clouded as he holds the sword—the most magnificent sword in the world. It shines brilliantly, and I feel a need to get closer to examine the workmanship.
“Guard!” Michel, impatient, snaps the guard—and me—out of our twilight. “You wouldn’t want to suffer the same fate as our guest, now, would you?” Awakening from the fog covering him, the guard shakes his head and marches toward Michel, sword far away from his body. Michel takes the sword quickly in his paw and grins a grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat.
He motions for the guards to take Ladimer and bring him forward. They grab Ladimer, who, again, puts up no resistance. My heart pounds, and I pray this does not end badly. Michel stands proudly before the crowd, demanding all eyes.
Nayla leans in my direction, whispering, “If you are going to make a move, let’s pray you do it soon.” Her eyes meet mine.
Michel puffs up his chest. “It is finally here: the time we have all been waiting for.” But when I see a particularly scrawny cat roll his eyes at Michel
’s words, it’s clear that not all of the mooncats are in league with Michel. I scan the crowd and see several cats fidgeting in their seat and shaking their heads. Some are even crying. Evidently, they follow him strictly because he’s their alpha male. Hopefully, that will make Gunthreon’s job easier. “We have before us Ladimer, head bowed in submission, ready to give his life to us—his children.” Michel grinds his teeth as he speaks; whether it is from his impatience to get the matter over with, or excessive elation, I cannot tell. “By taking your life, we shall no longer be laughing stock.”
He stands over Ladimer, sword at his side. Then, suddenly, he turns to Gunthreon, who sits besides Lupa. “Oh, how rude of me. Gunthreon, we never even discussed your request. You must excuse my actions. I have become too involved in my conquest.
” He laughs. “You and your party came here not only to hand over this idiot, but to seek knowledge of our missing Neda, is this right?”
Gunthreon nods. “Yes, Michel.”
Michel laughs as would a lunatic. I feel I am not alone in my fear of what this cat may do. “I must say, honestly, that I have heard nothing, and that I actually do not give a damn!” Gunthreon’s shoulders slump slightly, but he recovers quickly, aware that action awaits.
Michel walks slowly toward Gunthreon
’s table. “Do you not notice all the luxuries around you?” he grumbles. “Do you think that Neda would give us anything of this value? That
Neda
would give a damn about our race? That
Neda
would care
what happens to you
?!” Michel screams this at Gunthreon, looming over him. Gunthreon sits motionless.
“I thought so. Well, for your information—that
is
what you came for—we have decided that the other side is much more fun. And I’ve invited a few more
friends
to share the occasion with! They’ve been waiting so patiently since you arrived.” The Cheshire Cat appears again. As Michel raises both his arms, I feel the mass of energy approaching the doors. Quickly, I yell for Gunthreon.
In an instant, several meeples and grebles burst through all doors, weapons in hand, running toward my friends. Bu is the quickest to respond, and as a meeple runs toward Jenna—who stands firmly, her knife unsheathed before her—he lifts it in the air and throws it against the nearest wall, knocking it unconscious. As the other cats run around like chickens with their heads cut off, I see Gunthreon
’s mouth moving, and I hear his words in my head clear as day. He calls for all cats to fight back.
As I watch Bu, I see a gross, slimy creature sneaking up behind him. Before I can yell to him, I see a black cat jump on top of the creature as Bu turns around.
“Haren?” Bu says, standing, shocked.
The cat who he thinks is Haren stops and stares at Bu. A moment is shared between them as they lock eyes. Bu, saddened, frowns, and Haren then takes off, chasing a smaller meeple, but not before taking one last look at Bu.
Various cats draw serving utensils and knives, and try their best to attack the intruders. Some even pick up the priceless vases from their tables and whip them overhead. A greble holds Conner in a headlock, attempting to choke the life out of him, but instantly, Conner’s own blade is out, stabbing at its arm.
My monk
’s spade glows brightly in my hands, and I search the crowd for Michel. I find him back at his table, standing over Ladimer.
“Any last words Ladimer?”
asks Michel, determined to finish him off despite all the other activity going on around him.
Ladimer looks up, grins at Michel, and sings, “Transformers: More than meets the eye.” Michel, confused and, angry, swings his sword where Ladimer
’s neck would be if he were still a grown male, but Philip appears in his place, ducking as the sword swings by. As Michel recovers from the swing, Philip gets up and runs underneath the table, dragging the huge snow leopard skin. Michel runs after him, poking his sword underneath the table as Nayla approaches Michel’s back, revenge glowing in her eyes. I’m so engaged by the scene that I forget to watch my own back.
“Put down that weapon, you disgustingly pathetic creature,” says a meeple from behind. I lower my spade. “Your friends are losing the battle. Why don
’t you be a good pet and
sit?
” My legs obey, and I sit, observing the fighting around me and my friends. Some are bleeding. Some are screaming. Soon, the sounds of battle disappear, and I realize it would be far easier just to give in now and let this meeple finish me before we screw things up any further. Tears trickle down my face, my hope fighting a losing battle. This must be my destiny, humiliation.
Seconds before the meeple reaches me, I feel an intense energy approaching fast. “Hey, dinner’s served!”
Leon, running at us, throws steaming, saucy, hot vegetables at the meeple’s face, then grabs my hand and pulls me up. “Come with me now!” he says. I throw my bag on my back and let myself be dragged out the doors. Leon picks me up as we slide down several wooden tunneled slides, emerging at ground level. I continue with him as we exit the village gates and run into the chilly forest.