He ordered, “Change.”
The kitten shapeshifted and became a dirty, unkempt girl who stared, seemingly mesmerized at the immense male in front of her. Tiago angled his jaw out and tilted his head at Xanthe.
Xanthe rubbed her forehead, her shoulders slumped. “Oh, gods,” she said. “I kidnapped a little Wyr girl.”
“She never once changed in front of you?” Tiago asked.
“No, sir. I had no idea. You know my magic sense is minimal.” Xanthe had telepathy and the ability to traverse crossover passageways. She could also sense some Power in strong items and individuals, but without a Wyr’s sense of smell, she hadn’t any way to tell that the kitten was anything but what it seemed. She lifted her shoulders. “I thought I was rescuing a feral cat.”
“Well,” Tiago said after a moment. “I’ll take her back to the palace with me. Niniane will know how to take care of this.” He shot a look at Xanthe. “As for you, I will be in touch. I want to hear details about what happened.”
“Understood, my l—sir,” Xanthe said.
The little girl tore her gaze away from the towering figure in front of her to look at Xanthe. She whispered, “I want to stay here.”
Immediately and in unison, Xanthe and Tiago said, “That can’t happen.”
“You named me Mouse,” the girl said, her gaze pleading with Xanthe. “I was going to live in the cottage with you and be your mouser. You said so.”
The plea tugged at Xanthe’s heart. She thought of the kitten, curled on her lap and purring as she talked idly to it. She honestly could not remember all the things she had said. She walked over to squat in front of the child.
“That was when I thought you were just a cat,” Xanthe told her softly. “While I would love for you to stay, I have no way to take care of a Wyr child.” She had no way to take care of any child. Her life was too dangerous.
“But I like it here,” the girl said plaintively. “I wouldn’t be any trouble. I can be a cat all the time.”
“I’m sorry, no,” Xanthe said as gently as she could. She touched the girl’s matted hair. “This place would not be good for you, darling. You deserve a much better place, where you can be both a cat and a little girl and go to school.”
Tiago didn’t wait for any more protestations. He scooped the girl up and turned toward the doorway. He said over one broad shoulder, “Relax and take some time for yourself. You’ve earned it. I’ll send for you in the next day or two. Be ready.”
“Yes, sir,” Xanthe said.
Then he strode out the door. The last thing Xanthe saw of the girl were large sad eyes peering around the Wyr lord’s shoulder.
Xanthe walked over to the sit at the table and rub her face. She would not reconsider as those large sad eyes had asked her to do. She could not.
Silence settled in the cottage. It seemed so much emptier than it had before Tiago had come. She stared at the items on the table that she had unloaded from her pack. There were various toiletries, weapons—her shoulder harness and sword, along with throwing knives—and the old, hand painted wooden box that held the Tarot deck.
The last of her energy had slipped away. She would put the things away tomorrow. For now, she pulled the box to her, opened it and pulled out the Tarot deck. Warm, mellow Power filled her hands as she reverently fingered the hand-painted cards.
She shuffled the deck and turned over the top card. It was one of the Major Arcana, Inanna, goddess of love, her chariot drawn by seven lions.
Inanna’s card had been showing up every time she shuffled the cards.
“I thought you meant the cat,” she said to the card.
The face of a golden woman smiled out at her, fierce and mysterious.
She sighed. Love came in many forms—the love of a friend or lover, a parent or child. The devotion of a pet, or the love of one’s country. Xanthe was really suited for only one of those, although for a while she thought the kitten might work.
She put the deck in the box and set it gently on the fireplace mantle. Then she ate some stew and fell into bed.
The summons from the palace came early the next morning.
Everything was blanketed in light dew, and the tip of the sun barely showed through the trees. Xanthe had made a cup of tea and had taken it out to sit on an overturned log, enjoying the silence and the solitude.