“They don’t access the very top. You want the good stuff, you have to work for it.” He looked behind him, searching for the hellhounds. “Come on, before the hellhounds wake up!”
Yeah, that was enough to encourage me. I leapt onto the tower, grabbing the iron with my hands. It wasn’t an easy climb, but I scrambled after him, feeling my heart thud in my chest like a giant freaking drum. There was no way I could look down.
Up. Up. Up.
I put hand over hand, ignoring the cold fear that threatened to freeze my muscles and leave me clinging to the side of the tower like a freaking ninny.
Lachlan climbed like a pro, moving quickly and with such complete assurance that I was sure he scaled mountains daily.
I turned my attention back to the tower. The metal was slippery beneath my hands, but at least the rain wasn’t falling on my face. Suddenly, I realized that Lachlan had been keeping me dry this entire time, even when we’d been separated and running across the field, pursued by the beasts of hell.
It was just enough to distract me from the fear, and I kept climbing. My muscles ached and my lungs burned as we went ever higher.
I glanced up. Still a third of the way to go.
Three pairs of eyes peered down at me.
The Cats of Catastrophe sat on a higher metal bar. They looked wet and miserable—Princess Snowflake III, particularly, with her wet white fur plastered against her body, making her look like a skinny rat. She hissed at me.
Hairless Muffin couldn’t look any skinnier, and Bojangles looked even more insane than usual, his head tilted to look down on me. The expression on his cross-eyed face said I was an idiot to be climbing all the way up here. I couldn’t help but agree.
But how the heck had they gotten up there?
I shook my head. Not important. Not when I needed all my strength and all my wits to survive this.
I continued to climb, my muscles aching and my hands freezing against the wet steel of the tower. Though my skin was chilled with fear, I never looked down. That way lay madness.
Up. Up. Up.
The cats watched.
Lachlan climbed silently beside me.
As we neared the top, the tower narrowed, forcing Lachlan and me more closely together. I could hear his breathing, even and calm. Far different from my breath, which heaved in and out of my lungs. Terror made me breathless, and every foot that I climbed seemed to reinforce the idea that this. Was. Dumb.
A girl afraid of heights climbing the Eiffel Tower?
Yeah, not great. My muscles trembled with strain and fear.
“Are you okay?” Lachlan asked from beside me.
“Fine.” My response was short. I kept my gaze on the tower and continued to climb.
We were close. Not much farther now.
Which also meant that we were hundreds of feet above the ground. If I fell, that gave me a long time to think about the crash that was coming.
I reached for the next rung.
My hand slipped.
Then my foot.
A scream caught in my throat as I dangled, barely able to hold on with one hand.
Lachlan reached down, grabbing me. His strong hand gripped my wrist, cementing my hold. My heart thundered as I went into tunnel vision.
“Ana! I’ve got you!” Fear spiked Lachlan’s voice.
I swallowed hard and focused, pulling myself back from the edge. Blood roared in my ears as I reached up with my dangling arm, scrabbling for purchase.
“I won’t let you go.” Lachlan’s voice was my lifeline.
I looked up, meeting his gaze. It grounded me, calming the panic. Finally, my fingertips closed over the cold metal, and I gripped it hard. My foot found a metal bar, and I clung to the tower, panting.
“You can let go,” I wheezed.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut and focusing on the reassuring feeling of the cold steel beneath me. He had saved me—been my lifeline in that moment—but I had to rely on myself. On my grip on the steel and my own muscles to pull me out of this.
“We’re nearly there,” he said.
“I know.” That was part of the problem. But I didn’t focus on how far away the ground was.
Lachlan’s grip released me, and we continued to climb. I felt for every metal rung on the tower-ladder, focusing harder than I ever had in my life.
By the time I finally scrambled onto the top, my heart was thundering and my skin felt like ice.
Princess Snowflake III stared at me, her gaze unimpressed. My cheek pressed against the cold steel floor as I looked at her. She was more than unimpressed.
Stupid.
Yeah. I had to agree with her.
Bojangles ran up to me and licked my nose, his tongue rough as sandpaper and smelling of fish.
“I like you, too.” I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, trembling. Crap. I was so weak I’d never be able to walk again. Or at least, not for an hour.
Muffin walked up to me, then pressed his paw to my hand. Magic flowed through me, bringing strength and warmth with it.
I looked into the green eyes of the hairless cat who looked like he’d been in one fight too many. “What’s that?”
“Meerow.” Magic, you moron.
I smiled. “Thanks.”
I scrambled to my feet, stronger now.
Lachlan stared at me, a curious expression on his face. “You’re afraid of heights.”
I shrugged.
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“It wouldn’t have made the fear go away.”
He nodded, respect flashing in his eyes. “You’re tough, Ana Blackwood.”
“Highest compliment you could give me.” In my world, toughness was what kept you alive.
“You also brought along some friends?” He pointed to the cats.
“New buddies.” Though I had no way to explain the magic that had just flowed from Muffin.
“Do you know who they are?” he asked.
“Muffin, Princess Snowflake III, and Bojangles.”
“The black one with no fur—is that Muffin?”
“Yes.”
He turned his appraising gaze to me. He was clearly impressed. “He’s the Cat Sìth. And he’s chosen you.”
“The what?”
“A mythological Scottish creature.”
Uh. I turned to look at Muffin. “So you run a racket with your cat gang down in Edinburgh, and you’re some fancy mythical cat?”
I’m a cat of many talents.
“What is the Cat Sìth exactly?” I asked.
“A bit like a fairy cat.”
Muffin hissed. I’m no fairy cat! I’m more like a dragon!
Lachlan didn’t appear to have heard Muffin, so I translated. “He didn’t like that.”
“My apologies, King of Cats.”
Muffin inclined his head, accepting. It seemed he could be gracious when called a king.
“It appears he’s bonded himself to you,” Lachlan said. “The Cat Sìth doesn’t choose just anyone.”
I looked at Muffin. “Probably a mistake, right?”
Muffin shrugged, and it was good enough for me.
It was time to drop this discussion, so I spun in a circle, taking in the platform at the top. It was tiny, with no railing on any of the sides and a vertical spear of metal right in the middle. Like a small flagpole.
My head whirled. The city spread out around us, golden lights forming a rolling blanket over the earth. “This is amazing. I’m surprised it’s not crawling with tourists.”
“Humans can’t see it. To them, it doesn’t exist. They stop at the lower level and go no farther.”
“Wow.” I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to drive away the uncomfortable tinge. “And it’s super hard to get to.”
“True enough.”
I glanced at him. He’d saved my life. “Thank you.”
He nodded, then reached into his pocket and withdrew the crystal. He took a few steps to reach the post in the middle of the tower. “This is where most of the magic in Paris resides. It’s like a beacon, drawing on the power in the city and magnifying it.” He placed the crystal on top of the flagpole, sliding it onto a little spike.
I stared at it, waiting.
Nothing happened.
“What now?” I asked.
“It needs moonlight.” He looked up, a frown on his face. “And the moon needs a little help.”
He raised his hands, looking like an ancient warlock. Rain fell around him in a circle, never landing on him.
Princess Snowflake III went to join him, sitting at his side. Clearly, she liked him. It was dry where I was, but she had eyes only for Lachlan.