early, and be ready to stay the night. We need to devise a fighting strategy, you need to teach me to dance, and we'll need practice."
"Good idea. And?"
"I'll need an appropriate look. Care for a makeover and a day of shopping?"
She laughed. "When have I ever not?" She paused, as if waiting to see if she would say anything more. "You're really getting into this!"
She grinned. "Bloody right, you slag."
From "The Adventure of the Booted Feline"
Eile Chica settled back against the tree and wrapped the blanket around her. It would be another cold night, and a hungry one. Her tiny campfire was barely adequate to provide light, let alone heat, and her one loaf of bread was gone, consumed the previous night. Being as it was only her second night away from home, the success of her journey seemed less than certain.
She reflected that only a week before she had been warm, well-fed, and happy. She was the youngest daughter of a prosperous miller, with three older sisters, and if she didn't wear fancy clothes or live in a big house or have a fine pony to ride, life had still been good, and the young men of the village paid her court as if she was the daughter of the Grand Empress, Medb Mor.
But her father was dead, struck down by a fever and buried just five days past. That had been heart-wrenching enough, but when the parson revealed their inheritance, it was more than she could stand. Her oldest sister, Giovanna, received the family fortune: five gold pieces and fifty silver, a jeweled ring that had been their mother's dowry, and an enameled brooch that had been owned by their paternal grandmother. The next oldest, Wendy, received the mill, and the third oldest, Dolores, had received the mule.
Her bequest? A pair of dice and Snowfoot the mill cat, nothing more. Even the loaf of bread, the blanket, and a knife she carried for protection she had stolen before she left. Had she prospects of marrying she might have stayed, but considering the paltriness of her new possessions, the young men ignored her and began wooing her wealthier sisters. Not that she blamed them; had she married while her father was still alive, she could have counted on a greater legacy. But with her prospects gone, she decided the best thing to do was to make a fresh start, and she chose to try to find her fortune in the city of Duvlin, the seat of the empire. Snowfoot went with her, much to her surprise, but then her sisters never cared for the cat.
Unfortunately, Duvlin was a journey of three weeks on foot, and with no money she had to camp out at night. With no food, there was no chance of making it, but she could not turn back; she would never get over the disgrace. Her only other choice was to seek service at an inn or tavern, but she had no idea of where one lay or how long it would take to reach it. Things could not look more bleak, and she wondered if in another week she would even be alive.
She looked down beside her legs where Snowfoot sat, cleaning herself. She was a svelte-bodied feline, with short, yellowish-tan fur brushed with reddish sable on her large triangular ears, the top of her head, the back of her neck and shoulders, down her spine to her rump, the base and tip of her tail, and the lower parts of her legs. But her paws were stark white, hence her name. She paused a moment and looked up at her, the pupils of her big, sky-blue eyes glowing red from the firelight, as she licked her rose-pink nose. She then went back to washing.
An idea suddenly came to her: she could eat the cat. It wasn't even two years old yet; surely it would be tender and succulent. But even if it wasn't, she had nothing else, and she couldn't allow herself to starve. She reached under the blanket and opened the scrip tied to her girdle, pulling out the knife. She would have to strike fast, to kill or incapacitate the cat before she could run off, otherwise she would never find her in the dark woods.
Snowfoot looked up at her again, and she froze. There was something odd about her expression; it was almost as if she knew what she was thinking.
"I know what you're thinking," the cat said, in a child-like voice.
For a moment, she felt too shocked to react, then she exploded up off the ground, the blanket flying over the cat.
"Gaaah!" She darted behind the tree. When she peeked out from behind it, Snowfoot crawled out from under the blanket.
"There's no need to act like that." She sounded miffed. "You'd think I had told you I was the devil."
"How do I know yer not?!" Her voice trembled.
"Please. If I were the devil, I wouldn't be wasting my time with you. I'd be trying to corrupt the Grand Empress."
Well, that makes sense, she thought, but she still felt too scared to confront it.
"Come out where I can see you. I don't fancy talking to a tree. Come on, I won't hurt you. In fact, I want to help you."
She came half way around the trunk, ready to duck back just in case. "Help me? How?"
"How would you like me to help you?"
Eile's stomach growled. "Something to eat would be nice."
"That would be a good start, but it's not enough. What do you ultimately want?"
"I don't understand."
"Why are you going to the city?"
"To seek my fortune."
"Well, then, what if I promised to make you rich and powerful right here? Without ever going to the city?"
She came all the way out from behind the tree. "Here? In the middle of the woods?" She couldn't believe what she heard.
"Why not? This is as good a place as any."
"You can really do that? Yer not just fibbing ta save yer life?"
"Tell you what: if I don't make you rich and powerful in a week, I'll let you eat me. How's that?"
She couldn't believe her ears. It sounded too ludicrous to credit. And yet, the cat seemed very sincere. Well, what do I have ta lose?
"Okay, it's a deal."
"Splendid!"
"What do we do first?"
"You do nothing, except wait here; I'll take care of everything else." And she darted off into the woods.
The cat disappeared before she knew what had happened. "Aw, cripes, I'll probably never see her again." And she mourned her lost supper.
Not knowing what else to do, she added some more wood to the fire, then picked up her blanket and shook it before wrapping it around her shoulders. "That's the last time I ever trust a cat. Sneaky fur-bags."
Snowfoot appeared from the brush. "Yes, and it's my stealth that has allowed me to catch this!" She tossed a dead rabbit by the fire.
Startled, she stared at it for a second, half expecting it to get up and start talking, but when it stayed dead she yelped with joy and dropped to her knees, pulling the knife out of her scrip.
"You're not planning on eating it raw, are you?" Snowfoot sounded like she'd be sick.
She made a disgusted face. "Of course not! I'm gonna skin, gut, and dress it, and roast it on a spit."
"Good. If anyone's going to eat raw meat, it'll be me. But it'll take forever to cook with that small fire. Better stoke it up."
"Yeah, good thinking." She placed more wood on the fire. "How can I ever repay you?"
Snowfoot gave her a half-lidded look with a small smile as she purred. "I'll accept a share of your meal for now, but if I succeed in making you rich and prosperous, all I ask are three things: good food to fill my tummy, a bed by the fire, and a life free from catching vermin."
"You help me get my fortune, and you'll never hafta hunt ever again."
"Well, let's not be hasty. I will indulge myself every now and then, just to stay in practice. Now, eat your supper and get some sleep; we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."
"But can you really do it?"
Snowfoot closed her eyes and grinned. "My dear, do exactly as I say, and everything will work out just fine."
The cat sounded so confident, she couldn't doubt her, but she had the feeling things might not go as smooth as she promised.
Snowfoot woke Eile bright and early, and after a breakfast of berries they were off. Eile carried her on her shoulders, so that they could travel faster.
"So, how do we secure my fortune?"
&n
bsp; Snowfoot purred. "Just leave everything to me, I'll figure something out."
"You mean ya don't have a plan?!"
"Hey, we just became partners last night. Give me a little time."
"Swell. The morning's not even over yet, and already yer makin' excuses."
"Now, don't get snippy! I'm chasing after a few ideas, but which one I catch will depend upon the opportunities that present themselves. We're just going to have to play this by ear."
"I suppose I could try ta sell you. A talking cat's bound ta be worth a lot of money."
"I wouldn't take kindly to that, and you can't make me talk if I don't want to."
"It's a bust anyways. There's no one around ta buy you, 'cause were stuck out here in the middle of the friggin' woods!"
"Watch your language! That's no way for a lady to talk."
"Lady!? Have you lost yer rat-trappin' mind?"
"We are whatever we want to be in this world. People will respond to how we act, so long as we believe in ourselves."
She laughed in an incredulous manner. "Yeah, right! Well, if I'm a lady, then you certainly could be a cavalier."
Snowfoot yelped in her ear. "You know something? That just might work!"
She felt confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Never you mind. I'm closing in on my prey; I just need a little time to complete my stalk. So, hush."
"Fine; just great. Now yer talkin' in riddles. That's all I need."
"Less talk, more walk, Missy."
"I knew I should have eaten you when I had the chance."
Snowfoot made no reply, and for all Eile knew, she had gone to sleep.
She continued on for most of the morning, stopping only for occasional