“What is happening?” he asked.
“Oh, a great deal,” replied the cat, making his silky way to Alistair’s side and sitting down. “Gaheris has been attacked from the inside by goblins let through the death-house gate from their world into yours . . . possibly by a traitorous knight of my order, but I wouldn’t like to be casting slurs on the Murderer just yet, you understand. My comrade-in-arms has been taken prisoner and, according to this person”—with a glance at Mouse—“it appears that everything comes down to our needing to rescue the Chronicler before it’s too late. Isn’t that right?” The cat addressed this last to Mouse, who nodded. The cat turned to Alistair again. “Caught up now, are we?”
Alistair stared. “Why does my shoulder hurt?”
“You were stabbed by Corgar, warlord of Vartera’s horde. You’re lucky you didn’t lose your head.”
“What’s a Corgar?”
“A goblin.”
“As in slavering jaws, gaping eyes, stone hides?”
“The same.”
“They don’t exist.”
“Neither do talking cats.”
Mouse, wet hair plastered and dripping, leaned forward, chattering again in that language Alistair could not understand. But the cat understood and responded, “Why do you think that matters?”
“Why does what matter?” Alistair demanded.
Cat twitched an ear at him. “I wasn’t speaking to you.”
“You were speaking to . . . him?”
“Yes.”
“And, er, he understands you?”
“Yes.”
“But so do I!” Alistair shook his head. “How can we both understand you? We don’t speak the same language!”
“Proving yet again the superiority of immortal tongues,” said the cat, smugly sinking his chin into the downy ruff of fur about his neck. “You’ll understand anything I want you to, and nothing I don’t. It’s the way of it with Faerie.”
Mouse looked from the cat to Alistair, then said, “Please, what are you telling him?”
“Nothing,” the cat said, tucking his tail closer to his paws. “What did you think I was telling him?”
“You won’t . . .” She glanced at the young lord again. “You won’t tell him my secret, will you?”
“What secret?”
“That I’m . . . that I’m not what I seem.”
The cat’s ears went back. He turned to Alistair. This time when he spoke, Alistair understood him but the girl did not. “You do realize, don’t you, that she’s a girl?” he said.
“Of course I do.” Alistair glared. “Do I look stupid?”
“Would you like me to answer that?”
“What did he say?” Mouse demanded. “What did you tell him?”
The cat shrugged and allowed her to understand his words. “I made certain your secret is as safe as it ever was.”
She breathed a great sigh, relieved. “Now,” she said, “will he help me rescue the dwarf?”
“Ah yes. The Chronicler,” the cat said musingly. “He’s not a dwarf, you know. He’s a small man. There is a difference. I’ve met dwarves. They’re ugly little brutes, nothing like him.”
“What does it matter?” Mouse cried, ready to explode with anxiety. “Dwarf, man, he’s Etanun’s heir! I must bring him back to the Citadel, don’t you see? I must bring him back, or the Silent Lady’s life is forfeit!”
All traces of smugness vanished from the cat’s face. His purr turned to a growl.
Alistair stood, a little shakily, putting a hand back to support himself against the stone wall. Some memories were beginning to leak back through, memories he had thought part of the nightmare. He recalled his uncle’s empty chamber and Mouse struggling to pull a hunting knife down from the wall. He recalled the shouts of goblins, a rock-hard hand coming through the doorway.
“What did she say?” he asked. “Does she know something about all this?”
“About the goblins? No. Not directly, that is.”
Alistair did not like to ask the next question but knew that he must. After all, the world was a twisted, upside-down place this morning, and anything was possible. “Did she bring them here?” His eyes strayed briefly to her, then away.
“What, her?” The cat shook his head. “I hardly think so. This is much more likely to be the Murderer’s doing. But with the gates unwatched, Corgar could have pushed through without anyone’s help.”
“What gates?”
The cat did not answer. Although seated between them, he somehow seemed untouchably distant. Alistair could almost believe the creature had slid into another world entirely and that he and Mouse looked in from the outside, unable to join.
“Please,” Mouse said. “Please, help me rescue the heir. It is the only hope.” Her voice was so distressed, Alistair almost reached out to her, though he did not know what she said.