Siddonie watched Helsa send her loose horse away and bring him back, watched her change shape in the saddle from woman to cat, balancing lightly; and when after an hour’s ride they returned, she watched Helsa ride into the cat compound and lift her hand, drawing hundreds of cats running to her. She watched her make them swarm up the stunted trees, make them fight, stop fighting, watched her make them change to human then return at her command to cat. Siddonie meant, as soon as the girl was sufficiently trained, to bring all the upperworld Catswold and human troops down through the mining tunnel that led into Zzadarray, directly into the Catswold nation.
There the false queen would gather the Zzadarray Catswold, join them with her own armies, and move west until she joined Siddonie at the front lines. The Catswold would help defeat the rebels, and when the war was won Siddonie’s loyal soldiers would slaughter the Catswold soldiers, both those from the upperworld and those from Zzadarray.
And, when she had no more use for Helsa, she would kill the false Catswold queen herself.
Already in the south she had brought Shenndeth and Pearilleth into line without bloodshed, peacefully confiscating most of the horses and all the food stores. And in the first skirmishes in the outlying lands, rebel soldiers had been driven mad with spells and had turned on their brothers and killed them. In Cressteane, spells of sickness had cut down dozens of rebels with illness of the bowels and stomach. And when the rebels’ own healing spells failed, many among them had taken wine and, starving, quickly become too drunk to resist capture.
When Helsa turned and smiled at her, Siddonie smiled back with a cold, predatory satisfaction. This girl would pay, as would all the Catswold, for the fall of Xendenton.
Chapter 47
It was the evening the calico scratched Morian that Melissa saw the spirit of the cat hidden within Braden’s paintings.
Morian had come down for a drink. Melissa watched her from the couch. The dark woman was beautiful in creamy satin and gold jewelry. Coming in, she kissed Braden on the cheek and Melissa felt a growl deep in her throat and felt her claws stiffen. And when Braden had gone to the kitchen and Morian came to the couch and reached to stroke her, she growled again.
Morian looked surprised and moved away. “All right, my dear. I know when I’m not wanted.” She grinned. “Maybe a little jealous? You needn’t be, you know.”
Melissa turned her face away, but in a moment she looked back to watch Morian where she stood at the easel looking at the wet painting.
“You have a class?” Braden said from the kitchen.
“Mmm. I hate night classes—there’s always some hobby painter who shouldn’t be there and can’t keep his mind on his drawing. I like this, Brade.”
“New model. Starting a new series.”
Morian looked at the three new paintings he had hung on the wall, then at the new sketches on the work table, handling them with care. When Braden returned with the drinks, she hugged him casually. “Nice. Very nice. This is going to be an exciting series. These—are these the Craydor house?”
He nodded. “We spent a morning there.”
“Marvelous. Reflections…all reflections. Just right for you, Brade. And your model is perfect for it.”
Melissa got into her basket and curled down, pretending to sleep, listening to the dry sounds of paper as Morian looked again through the sketches.
Morian said, “It’s going to be the best series you’ve done. Even better than the Coloma series, and I didn’t think any work could be better than that. Rye will go out of his mind. Has he seen them?”
“He’s dropping by this evening on his way out to dinner.”
Morian nodded and sat down on the couch near Melissa’s basket, looking at the calico questioningly to see if she would growl again. “Nice basket—she just fits.” She looked up at him, laughing. “For someone who didn’t want a cat, you’re doing right well by her.” She reached to let the calico sniff her fingers, trying to make friends. But jealousy won, rage impelled the calico. She came up out of her basket striking fast, slashing across Morian’s hand. Morian jerked away, her eyes wide. Blood beaded across her skin. Braden shouted and reached to grab the calico, but Morian caught his arm.
“Don’t, Brade. Let her be. This is her house—she just doesn’t want me so familiar.” She moved away from the basket, pressing her fingers against the oozing blood, holding her hand away from her silk dress. “It’s only a scratch.” She stared into Melissa’s eyes, not angry but curious, searching. Melissa hissed and spat.
Braden handed Morian a clean paint rag to stop the blood. “I’ll get some iodine.”
The medicine he brought smelled so strong it made Melissa’s nose wrinkle. His look at her was cold, enraged.
Morian said, “She’s only protecting her rights. She—Brade, look at her eyes.”
“What about them?” He was furious. His voice made Melissa cringe. Why had she done that? Why had she embarrassed herself in front of him like that?
