The Feline Wizard

CHAPTER 32

“What!” The soldier stared, horrified. “It is so! How can this be? Who can have stolen it? Why has no one seen this before?”

Good questions, Anthony thought, especially the last. More to the point, how was it he had seen it gone when no one else had? He could only think that his bath in the Fountain of Youth had given him the ability to see through glamours—either that, or Balkis' magic was rubbing off on him. He shied away from that notion; thoughts of Balkis hurt, and deeply.

“Captain!” the soldier cried. “The stone! The stone that starts and quenches fire is gone!”

The alarm went up and Matt was there to investigate within minutes. They lowered the cross. He glared at the hole a minute, then said, “Yep. It's gone, all right.”

“But who could have stolen it?”

“One of those crawlie enemies we were worried about.” Matt looked around the ranks reflectively. Anthony ducked behind another soldier and pressed his helmet down farther over his telltale hair.

Matt turned to the captain again. “While their ambassador distracted us, a fellow snake got into the treasury somehow.”

“Ridiculous!” the captain snorted. “What manner of thief would penetrate a royal treasury and steal only this one stone?”

“A snake with a mission ” Matt told him.

In fact, they later found out he'd guessed correctly—the snake had tunneled into the treasury, stolen the stone, and filled the tunnel in on the way out. The palace engineers were able to plug the hole more permanently—before any human thieves could develop ideas. Prester John also made the treasury serve double duty as his mongoose breeding pen from that time on.

A cry went up. Turning to look, they saw a wedge of snake-people striding toward them across the plain, wearing only their scales. Without their robes, they seemed somehow obscene, their fronts too sickly a green, their backs too mottled, their limbs far too slender for the strength they held. Behind them marched an assortment of creatures of such ugliness and menace that half the soldiers cried out and hid their eyes. Only when their sergeants assured them that the mere sight of the monsters did not turn them to stone or burn out their sight did the quaking troopers dare look again.

With a flinten face, Prester John rode out to meet the embassy with a hundred horsemen around him.

The snake-folk came to a halt. The one at the point of the wedge grinned, tongue flicking out in insult, and said, “We meet again, O Prince of Fools.”

“So it is you, the emissary,” Prester John said. “Speak what you have come to say before I unleash my troops upon you.”

“Only this, O King of Folly! We have your flame stone and a pride of lions caged by it. If you do not surrender at once, we shall hurl it afire into the center of your city and let it burn everything within your walls to cinders!”

Prester John paled, for he knew the power of the stone and knew it could prove as devastating as the snakeman claimed. Still he met threat with threat. “Know that we have powerful magicians to avenge such an action—and we know the name of your tyrant!”

“Only her public name. Her true name remains hidden,” said the snakeman. “You may know it by this evidence—that ‘Kala Nag’ is a Hindu name, O Ignorant One, and the goddess is of the high steppe. Further, ‘Nag’ is masculine, and the goddess is very, very feminine. No, you cannot hurt her, even if your magicks were strong enough.”

“A craven act indeed!” Prester John said indignantly.

The snakeman's eyes flashed with anger. “A prudent act, and you lacked such prudence yourself. We know how slow you human folk are to decide such weighty matters, so we shall give you until sunset—but when darkness falls, if you have not surrendered, your city shall light the night!”

He wheeled and stalked away. The wedge opened to let him through, then reformed behind him and arrowed through a lane that opened in the midst of the monsters. The wedge drove through, and the monsters turned to follow. The whole assemblage moved away across the plain.

Prester John turned and called, “Let all wizards appear before me!”

Balkis called for a horse and rode down to him at the gallop. Soldiers looked up, saw the white robe with the purple cloak and the golden coronet on her brows, and stepped aside, bowing as she passed.

By the time she came, half a dozen lesser wizards had assembled around Matt and Prester John. She looked around, forlorn. “Where is Anthony?”

“Yes, where is Anthony?” Matt repeated in a voice that could be heard a hundred feet away. “We need him sorely now, for your spells are far stronger with him to complete them, and if this situation doesn't call for new verses, I don't know what does!”

“He is not here,” Balkis said dolefully

“Yes, he is not here!” Matt trumpeted. “I can't blame him, actually—he isn't a subject of this land, after all. Why should he care if Maracanda burns and all of Asia and Europe are conquered by a monster, because Prester John's army is all that stands between Kala Nag and world conquest?”

The silence stretched out, broken only by Balkis' sobbing gasps as she struggled to suppress tears. Matt wondered if he had laid the guilt trip on too heavily.

A curse came from the ranks, and a soldier taller than most yanked off his helmet and shoved it and his spear into the hands of the startled trooper next to him. Then he came striding up to Matt. He bowed to Prester John and said, “Command me, Majesty! I would have preferred to fight for you like the commoner I am, but if you deem that I may defend better as a wizard, I am come!”

“Oh, Anthony!” Balkis breathed in melting tones, but he hardened his face and kept his gaze on the emperor. Hers showed great sorrow; then she composed it and squared her shoulders, every inch a princess.

“Our course is clear,” Prester John said. “We must have the firestone back before the sun sets. Who shall go to bring it?”

“I, my lord!” Prince Tashih nudged his horse forward. “I shall take our doughtiest warriors and mount a sally into the midst of their fell army! Only send me one wizard to deflect their magic!”

“I!” Anthony said instantly. “Let me accompany the prince!”

Balkis cried out in fear, and Prester John's brooding gaze rested on Anthony. “They who go to retrieve this stone shall be courting death.”

“I care nothing for my own life,” Anthony said stubbornly, and Balkis restrained another sobbing gasp.

Prester John only continued his weighing gaze, though, and Matt thought he understood the emperor's reasoning. Anthony was suicidal, it was true, for he was so much in love with Balkis that he didn't want to live if he couldn't be with her. He was sure that she was far above him—but he also had the frantic hope that he could prove himself worthy of the hand of a princess. Like so many young men, Anthony was after glory and was willing to die trying to gain it.

“Very well, then,” Prester John said, “you shall accompany the prince.”

“No!” Balkis cried, as though it were torn from her. “He wishes only to die, for he feels I have betrayed him!”

“I shall do all that I may to keep the prince safe,” Anthony said stubbornly, still refusing to look at her.

“Think you this battle can be won by armed men?” Balkis cried in exasperation. “Deflect their magic! They are permeated with it, every one of them! What else could give a snake the size and form of a human? What else could support those monsters in life? If you charge into their mass, you shall all die, no matter how many wizards charge with you—and we shall still lack the stone, be even weaker with no wizards left, have to surrender all our force to that obscene goddess or watch Maracanda burn!”

Anthony's face was stone, but Matt said quietly, “She has a point.”

“She has indeed.” Prester John's gaze rested on his son with pride and elation. “My greatest glory is you, my son, for you are willing to risk certain death to save your people.”

“But their deaths will not save the people!” Balkis said angrily. “They will only slay me!”

“If my elite guard cannot bring back that stone,” Prince Tashih said stubbornly, “none can.”

“I!” Balkis cried.

“No!” Anthony wailed. “You will sacrifice yourself!”

She turned to him, suddenly intent. “Do you care so much for a mere cat?”

“Mere!” Anthony cried. “You are the only real friend I have ever had! If I fought my brothers for you, would you not think I'd care?”

“If you care for the cat,” she said, “do you care more for the woman?”

He stared at her, at a loss.

“Do unicorns and mussel shells mean nothing?” Balkis asked, her voice low.

Anthony seemed to deflate even as his face came alive. Then he seemed to swell again as he smiled, stepping closer, giving the impression of touching her even though he was afoot with his arms at his sides and she was mounted. “The cat can be only a friend,” he breathed. “The woman, I would hope, could be much more.” Then his eyes widened and he stepped back, horrified. “But I forget myself, forget my place. Princess, I am your humble servant! My life is yours! Command me as you will!” He dropped to one knee.

Balkis cried out in distress and leaped off her horse to kneel facing him, hands on his shoulders. “No! Not like this! I do not want you for a servant!”

Anthony looked up, eyes wide with hurt.

Matt stepped in quickly. “What's the matter, princess? I thought you did want his life with yours.”

Balkis turned to him wide-eyed, then turned back to xnthony, grinning wickedly. “Very well, foolish man! You have offered me your life and I shall have it! But first, come and seize that stone with me!”

There before their eyes she dwindled and shrank, arms lengthening, hands and feet turning into paws, nose and mouth thrusting forward into a muzzle, ears moving to the top of her head and gaining points, tail sprouting and growing. There she stood, a cat like any, but with a purple back and tail, a circle of gold around her head, and a white belly.

In spite of his stubbornness, Anthony smiled fondly and reached down. “I shall never be alone again, shall I?”

“Never, silly man!” the cat meowed. “Now finish a verse forme!”

“But not with lion's mane!” Anthony cried.

Matt winced.

It worked anyway. Even Prester John gasped with amazement as the Balkis-cat grew, swelling, until her head was on a level with Matt's and she was as large as a horse. The real horses screamed in terror and tried to bolt; their riders barely managed to hold them still. A few soldiers, more courageous than the rest, ran forward to hold their bridles.

“Come, man, and ride!” Balkis challenged as she crouched before Anthony.

Grinning, he said, “You forgot the saddle,” but leaped up on her back anyway, crying, “A sword!”

Three officers leaped to offer theirs. Anthony took the first as Balkis stood up, very carefully, and in a basso meow chanted,

Anthony cried:

They shimmered and disappeared.

“Lord Wizard, after them!” Prester John cried in panic. “Do not let my niece face such deadly danger alone!”

“I wouldn't exactly say she's alone,” Matt demurred. “In fact, I think she'll never be alone again.”

“If she lives! Will you go?”

“I guess I'd better.” Matt recited,

The world blurred. When it cleared, he found he could see nearly three hundred sixty degrees, but it was horribly distorted. It took him a few seconds to learn to interpret the visual images, to discover what the grainy substance was beneath his feet. The spell had taken him literally; he was a fly, and the wall was the canvas side of a tent.

The snakeman had lied, of course—instead of a whole pride of lions, there were only two, standing as proudly as though they were guarding a library on either side of a pedestal which held a three-inch stone that appeared to be only polished quartz. But Anthony had faced a lion before, and materialized with a sword in his hand.

Balkis struck one lion down with a paw the size of a manhole cover even as Anthony, with the element of surprise on his side, slashed the throat of the other with a mighty blow. The beast tried to roar and charged anyway, but Balkis danced aside, and the beast collapsed, its blood spattering the stone.

Something tore the tent away, exposing them to a ring of snakemen and monsters who screamed and charged them— but Balkis was already chanting,

“We shall fly with nothing lost!” Anthony finished.

The giant cat and her rider shimmered, grew translucent, then disappeared a split second before the first monster reached them. As it did, the stone burst into flame.

Matt could feel the wave of heat. He didn't stay to watch what happened, just repeated Balkis' escape spell in his buzzing voice. The world went fuzzy; then he was falling toward a giant purple cat with a rider on her back, facing an armored man with a crown on his helmet. Mart's wings spread automatically, and he buzzed,

To his friends, he must have seemed to appear out of thin air as he fell, landing in a crouch.

“I tell you, he did send himself after you!” Prince Tashih pointed at Matt.

“I do not doubt you, cousin.” Basso Balkis blinked at Matt. “What happened to you, Lord Wizard?”

“I just decided to buzz off.”

Wings boomed, horses screamed, and two dragons landed just behind the army. As sergeants and riders fought to control men and horses, Stegoman boomed, “When you call me, Matthew, be so good as to stay where you are until I arrive. It has taken us many minutes to find you.”

“Sorry about that,” Matt said, abashed. “They needed me in a hurry here.”

“I do not doubt it. What is that bonfire out on the plain?”

“I had wondered that myself” Prester John said, staring at the fountain of flame that towered above them. They could hear screams and cries beneath its crackling. “You lit the fire-stone, did you not, my niece?”

“No, I did, Majesty,” Anthony said, chagrined. “I had not intended—”

“It is well that you did,” Prester John said.

Prince Tashih smiled. “Better here than in the midst of Mara-canda, is it not?”

“Most surely,” Prester John agreed.

“I saw a great number of broiling snakes as I flew over them.” Stegoman wrinkled his nose. “Horrid smell, and the turbulence was abominable! There were other creatures burning like torches—there must have been a great deal of fat in them—but many more were fleeing, and thousands upon thousands of snakes streaked away across the plain.”

“It is strange that many of them burst into flame as they fled,” said Dimetrolas, “even though they were a thousand feet from the pyre, and more.”

“Kala Nag should really learn some self-control,” Matt said. “She's burning up her army in frustration.”

“I fear that snakes reproduce very quickly.” Prester John sighed. “And she shall have many more warriors in a year's time, or less. This conflict is not ended, Lord Wizard, only postponed.”

“Well, at least we know what she's planning now,” Matt said brightly. “Not the details, maybe, but enough to be on guard.”

Prester John frowned at the fountain of fire. “We cannot have that torch burning forever upon the plain”

“Perhaps we can fly over it with vats of water and dump them upon it for you,” Stegoman suggested.

“It is very good of you to offer, excellent beast,” the emperor acknowledged, “but fire will not quench this stone.”

“What will?” Stegoman asked.

Several people started to answer, then caught themselves in time.

“What?” Stegoman glowered at all the humans about him. “What is this you do not wish me to hear?”

“Understand, we're not asking anything of you,” Matt said quickly, “but… uh … the only thing that will put out that fire is dragon's blood.”

“N-o-o-o-o!” Stegoman roared, rearing back and contributing some fire of his own.

The humans jumped away from the jet, gibbering in terror.

Dimetrolas scowled at her fiance. “What is this, searing serpent? Do you fear to shed a few drops in a good cause?”

Stegoman huffed, trying to find the right words, but Matt got there ahead of him. “It's a phobia of his, dragon lady—a terrible, deeply rooted fear. It goes back to the first few minutes after he kicked his way out of the egg, when a hatchling-hunter caught him.”

“A hatchling-hunter! One who sought to catch small dragons, that he might sell their blood to sorcerers?”

“The very same,” Matt told her.

Prester John shuddered. “I cannot blame the beast—I have an antipathy for people who want my blood, too.”

“It goes with the office,” Matt agreed.

“However,” Prince Tashih pointed out, “that would not stop you from shedding every drop if you thought it necessary to protect your people.”

“It is one thing to give of one's own blood,” Dimetrolas told them, “but another to have it drained from you.”

Matt blinked; he hadn't expected compassion from the acerbic Dimetrolas.

She surprised him, though. She turned to Stegoman and said, “Poor little fellow that you were! Small wonder you are horrified at the prospect of being cut! This at least I may do for you, dear drake.” With that, she launched and pounded her way into the sky.

“Dimetrolas! Wait! Beware the updrafts!” Stegoman sprang into the sky right behind her.

“We should aid,” the giant purple cat boomed to Matt.

“I think they've got the situation under control.” Matt gazed after the flying couple. “In fact, if they come out of this all right, I think it will do wonders for their relationship … Would you do me a favor, princess? Change back into a woman?”

“Oh. Yes, my form is rather disconcerting.” Balkis began to shrink and reshape herself. Anthony leaped off hastily.

Matt didn't bother watching the transformation; he'd seen it before. He watched the two winged forms sailing over the plain, then suddenly rocking and plunging in the updrafts from the blaze. He couldn't see exactly what happened, but the fire began to die even before the two dragons turned and came sailing back.

They landed in a booming of huge wings, and Stegoman bellowed, “Quickly! Heal her wound, wizard, for I would not have her die even as the flames do!”

Matt ran forward and caught Dimetrolas' foreleg. He winced at the sight of the ragged wound but started reciting the healing spell.

Even as he chanted, Stegoman exulted, “She is the bravest of the brave! Over the very blaze she flew and cut herself with her own claw! Through scale and leathery hide she slashed, then watched a pint of her very own fluid of life fall into the flames! They die even now—but she must not!”

“Fret not, Flame Flier,” Dimetrolas said with a broad smile. She held up her foreleg to show him. “Your friend has healed me, and I am at last willing to own that humans may have their uses.”

“A thousand thanks, Matthew!” Stegoman rumbled.

“I think you've already given them.”

“An emperor's thanks to the gallant Dimetrolas,” Prester John said.

“And a prince's,” Tashih said quickly.

“It is little enough that I have done.” But Dimetrolas raised shining, heavy-lidded eyes to Stegoman.

“Little? It is a pledge!” Stegoman breathed, “A blood-pledge, and I am minded to give one in return.”

“Your pledge I desire, but I have no use for your blood— unless it flows through the eggs of a brood of my own.”

“Do dragons marry?” Prester John asked Matt.

“They don't seem to think it necessary,” Matt replied.

“Why not?” Stegoman grinned down at Dimetrolas. “I have adopted so many other human ways!”

“But I have not,” she replied tartly. “Give me time, Winged Warrior—a century or two.”

“I shall give you my whole life ” he breathed, gaze locked on hers.

“That's the way they are.” Matt turned to Prester John. “Once they mate, they're together for life. It's the nature of the breed— in the genes.”

“Still, we might honor them with some small ceremony one day,” Prester John said, his eyes twinkling. Then he turned to his niece. “But we must honor most of all the young woman and young man who had the fantastic courage to plunge into the heart of an army of monsters and face lions! Without them, we would all have been lost!”

Anthony reddened and became very formal again. He bowed, saying, “It has been my privilege to serve, Your Majesty.” Then he turned and knelt before Balkis. “What more would you have of me, Your Highness?”