“No, I imagine not.”
“Rather like your mud puppy. Magical creatures are not to be handled. We have our defenses, each peculiar to the species or, in some cases, to the individual creature. Touch us at your peril.” He glanced at her. “You weren’t thinking of trying, were you?”
She shook her head. “No, I was just curious. I don’t know anything about Prism Cats. I told you before that my father never spoke of you.”
Dirk glanced back at the G’home Gnomes, perhaps to reassure himself that they were still keeping their distance. “I shall speak for myself, then,” he said. “You need to know something of the character of the company you keep. My character is obviously impeccable, but a few words of further elucidation couldn’t hurt. I am a fairy creature, as you know. I live in the mists except when it suits me. I stay pretty much in one place except when I travel. I keep mostly to myself except when curiosity compels me to engage with others. Such as now, with you.”
“Curiosity about me?” she asked. “What do you mean?”
The cat regarded her. “Well, I should think it would be obvious. You are a very curious creature. I want to see what will become of you.”
“Become of me?”
“It would help this relationship tremendously if you would stop repeating my words back to me.” Edgewood Dirk rose and stretched. “As for what I did to your companions, I simply gave them a small demonstration of what happens when you misbehave around me. Watch.”
The Gnomes must have heard this because they began backing away hurriedly. Mistaya held her ground, unwilling to display anything remotely approaching cowardice. The Prism Cat ignored them, closing his eyes and arching his back, his body going so still that it seemed to have turned to stone. All at once, it began to glow, and then it did turn into something
“There is a small sample,” he advised. “If you try to touch me, of course, there is more. Ask your foolish friends for details, when you have a moment. There is more to my magic than this, but I don’t think we have to dwell on it just now. It is sufficient to say that not much that walks on two legs or four can stand against a Prism Cat.”
The cat followed her gaze and cocked his head. “I suggest that you go up to the door and ask for lodging. Once inside, you can figure things out at your leisure.”
She glared at him. “Why don’t you go up to the door and ask them to let us in. You’re the one with all the magic!”
“Am I?” he asked mildly. He regarded her calmly for a moment, and then stretched anew. “No, I think you had better be the one to ask,” he said. “People get nervous when cats speak to them. They are much more accepting of people than animals in these situations, I’ve found.”
“That seems a rather broad generalization, even coming from you. But I guess they can’t refuse a Princess of Landover, can they?”
“Probably not. However, I wouldn’t tell them who you are, if I were you. Which, thankfully, I am not.”
“Why not? I mean, why not tell them who I am?”
The cat blinked. “At the very least, they would let your father and mother know that you’ve arrived safely.”
She grimaced. He was right, of course.
“So I am just supposed to pretend that I’m some peasant girl out wandering the countryside, lost or whatever, and I’ve found my way here—poor, pitiful me—and I need shelter?”
She glanced into the darkness, where Poggwydd and Shoopdiesel sat huddled together, watching. “What about them?” she demanded, turning back again. “What am I supposed to say about … ?”
But Edgewood Dirk had disappeared.
She stared at the empty space he had occupied, not quite believing that he wasn’t there. Then she looked all around, searching the darkness. Nothing Not a sign of him. Anger flooded through her. He had abandoned her! Just like that! He had left her on her own!
“Fine!” she muttered, furious now. “Who needs
