Puss in Boots (Timeless Fairy Tales Book 6) (3 page)

She passed through Ilz without harm, and the mill was within sight.
Soon, I will be free
, Gabrielle thought. But a large hand grabbed her shoulder and drew her backward, interrupting her moment of joy.

She cursed her luck under her breath. Clutching the boots to her chest with one hand, she flailed out with the other. “Let me
go
!” she barked, elbowing her captor in the gut.

“Temper, temper, Gabi,” a male voice chuckled in her ear. It was Axel—the potter’s son who was bigger than Ewald and only half as stupid.

“Don’t call me that,” Gabrielle snarled, thrashing in his grip like a horse trying to rear. “If you don’t get your paws off me, I will scream.”

“Don’t do that,” Axel said. “All I want to know is when you’re going to make up your mind.”

“About?” Gabrielle wrenched one of his fingers back, making him cry out in pain and release her.

“Who you’re going to marry. You’ll have to decide soon,” Axel said.

“What?”

“I assume your parents will want you married before they leave for Loire.”

“How do you know about that?” Gabrielle’s voice shook as she took a step away from the giant oaf.

“The whole town knows. Jana told anyone with breath in their lungs.” Axel’s lips shaped an ominous smirk. “Most think you’ll choose the master merchant’s son, but I think you can be
persuaded
.”

Gabrielle ran several steps, but Axel caught her and yanked her off her feet. “Let me go!” she demanded, dropping the magic cat’s boots so she could form a club with her hands. She swung at Axel’s neck, but he held her against his chest, pinning her arms. “Stop it!” she shouted.

“Let her go, Axel,” said Bastian, a farmer’s son, one of the nice boys who never looked twice at Gabrielle. He was tall and lanky, but last summer during a festival wrestling contest he had come in third—beating Axel, who had placed fifth.

“What does it matter to you?
You’re
not sweet on her are you, farm boy?” Axel sneered. He broke off in a yelp when Gabrielle bit him.

“Perhaps not, but my father taught me to treat women with honor. Let her go.” Bastian rolled up the fabric of his shirt sleeves.

Axel laughed. “You think you can make me? You got lucky last summer, farm boy. Today I won’t go so easy on you, ouch—curse it, Gabi!” Gabrielle managed to get a fistful of his hair and yanked.

“Maybe and maybe not. Either way, I’m certain Gabrielle’s
brothers
will be
very
interested to hear how you treat their little sister. And it seems to me they have both thoroughly thrashed you in the past for similar behavior,” Bastian said.

They what?
Gabi stopped struggling for the moment to gawk at Bastian. As far as Gabrielle knew, her brothers never did anything to make her troubles with the village boys easier. Rupert was careful to keep an eye on her, but in recent years, he seemed more frustrated whenever she fought off an amorous boy instead of coming to her defense.

“I thought you mentioned honor,” Axel said, his grip growing lax as she remained motionless. “Tattling to her brothers would hardly be honorable.”

“I don’t think the lady would agree with you,” Bastian said.

“I don’t care—
oof
!” Axel’s eyes bulged like a frog’s when Gabrielle slammed her knee to his delicate bits. The topping on the attack, though, was the moment the magic cat launched himself on Axel, crawling up his block-like body to claw at his face.

“Get off!” Axel let go of her so he could swat at the cat.

“Cat, run!” Gabrielle shouted, snatching the baby boots from the ground. Fear and adrenaline revived her tired lungs and legs, giving her new zip. “Thanks, Bastian,” she called over her shoulder as the magic cat jumped from Axel—who toppled to the ground—and chased after her.

The boy didn’t respond—or if he did, she didn’t hear him.

Gabrielle and the cat didn’t stop running until they reached the back of the mill. She leaned against the solid structure, her lungs burning again, before her legs gave out. She plopped down.

“It’s like that every time you visit your village?” the magic cat asked, digging his claws into a wooden board.

“No, just…only when I go alone.” Gabrielle’s breath came in pained wheezes. “I got lucky that Bastian was there,” she added. “Axel is hard to fight off.”

“No small wonder you hate your appearance. Do not worry; you shall see it is to your advantage once we travel. Did you get the boots?”

She set the beautiful, leather boots down on the ground in front of the black and white cat.

“Beautifully made, with exquisite engraving. My, my, there’s even a charm worked into the leather—to lessen crying it seems. You bought me a
child’s
boots?” He circled the footwear.

“It was the only option. Cobblers don’t make shoes for animals—even magical cats.” Gabrielle forced herself to stand. She walked to a barrel of water and unhooked the ladle fastened to the side. She took a swig, refreshing her dry mouth.

“I
know
this magic. It is not Angel’s, but…where did you get these shoes?” the cat asked.

“From a mage. You’re lucky; he gave me a great deal on them, I think…” Gabrielle leaned against the water barrel.

“What was his name?” the cat said, his voice taut.

“Um…Rump…Rumpel—something. Rumpel-something-skin. Sorry, it was a mouthful.”

“Rumpelstiltskin is here? Where is he? I didn’t see him enter Ilz, nor did I hear word of a mage in the village!” The cat’s voice held a note of urgency as the liquid set of his spine and shoulders stiffened.

“He left already.”

“We must catch him. Immediately! He might be able to help.”

“He was already well over a mile away from Ilz when I bought the shoes, and that had to be not quite an hour ago. If you think chasing him will be an adventure, we can go after him, I suppose.”

“No, we’ll never catch up with him before he enters Loire. He’ll use magic as soon as he crosses the border, and then we’ll never find him,” the cat sighed. “It’s a shame I missed him, but such has been my luck.”

“At least I got you the boots.” Gabrielle took another swig of water.

“Indeed,” the cat said, the superior edge returning to his voice. “So now, we leave,” the cat said, walking away from the boots.

Gabrielle blinked. “Wouldn’t it be safer to spend the night in the mill and leave in the morning?”

“It is not necessary. Summer is a pleasant season in Arcainia, and I will be able to provide for your basic needs. If we are to leave on an adventure, it is better to begin immediately than to put it off. Unless…did you
want
to put it off?

Gabrielle scowled. “We can leave. Aren’t you going to wear your boots?”

“No. We can leave them behind.”

“
What
?”

“I stated it clearly when we first spoke. The boots were merely a test to see if you are willing to follow my instructions. You did, so you passed. We will be traveling companions.”

“You are wearing the boots.”

“Certainly not,” the cat said, licking his chops.

“Listen, Puss. I did not spend almost all of my money on a pair of
baby boots
for you to reject and leave behind.” Gabrielle stabbed a finger in the cat’s direction.

“Fine, bring them along if you must. And my name is
not
puss. I have a very fine, revered name: Roland Archibald Whisperpaws the Fifth.”

Gabrielle retrieved her burlap sack and tossed the boots inside with her blanket as the cat kept talking.

“It is a name that has been passed down from generation to generation, and is whispered in horror by those of evil and spoken with veneration by the magical community. It is an ancient name belonging to a superior family of cats—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Your name is special. It’s also too long, so you’ll be Puss from now on.”

“How dare you! You cannot rename
me
. I am Roland Archibald Whisperpaws the Fifth!”

“Well, Mr. Whisperclaws—”

“It is Whisper
paws
.”

“Which way should we travel for our journey?” She slung the sack over her shoulder.

“You are ready so soon?” the cat—Puss—asked.

“Yes. I would try to snag my second dress, but it’s stored in the cottage where Jana is stationed like a beached whale. If she sees me, we’ll never manage to leave tonight. Unless—are you
certain
I don’t need to pack food?”

“There is wisdom in your words, and I am certain. It is summer—the easiest season in which to forage. You will eat well. Come, let us commence our adventure.” Puss raised his tail like a flag pole as he trotted around the mill.

Gabrielle fell in step with him. “Where are we headed?”

“To the next settlement due east: Wied.”

“I’m surprised you know Arcainian cities.”

They started down the road, their backs to Ilz. “Calling Wied a city is more than generous, and I am a magic,
learned
cat,” Puss said.

“So I gather.” Gabrielle stopped to look back at her home—the only place she had ever known.

The mill rumbled on as Rupert and Gregor worked away. From this angle, she could see Marta puttering around in the garden. Now, when she was about to walk away from it all, Gabrielle realized how much she loved her family.

“Having second thoughts?” Puss asked, sitting down by her feet.

“No, just thinking fondly. I love my family, but I can’t stay here. I
can’t.
”

“Do you wish to tell them you are leaving?”

“No. Gregor would hogtie me to a fence—and Rupert would help him. It’s better this way.”

“What if they think something ill has befallen you?”

“They won’t. They know I want to leave Ilz. That’s why Mother and Father’s refusal to take me with them was especially mean,” Gabrielle said. Marta appeared to catch sight of her, for she waved.

Gabrielle returned the gesture and waited until her sister-in-law returned her attention to her garden before she turned her back to the cottage and mill and started walking again. “Besides, I’m still angry. They put me in an impossible position, and they expected me to be accepting—happy, even. And it wasn’t just Jana and Gregor—whom I could expect such actions from, but
all
of them. No, I will not tell them.” Gabrielle quickened her pace.

“As you wish.” Puss trotted at her side. They were quiet for several minutes as they passed through farmland. They weren’t quite at the borders of what was considered Ilz territory when they saw a carriage pulled by a team of four beautiful horses prance up from the south. The carriage’s path intersected with their road, but instead of turning east—as she and Puss were traveling—it turned west and passed them as it rolled in the direction of Ilz.

Gabrielle glanced at the carriage, but she stared with interest at the spattering of soldiers riding with the coach. “I wonder what that’s about,” she murmured.

“I must admit, I was impressed to see the way you handled that trollish fellow. Very tidy work, there.”

“Thanks. I’ve become a bit of a fighter thanks to moments like those.”

“It will make you that much safer during our travels,” Puss said. “You did quite well.”

“Thank you,” Gabrielle repeated, this time her words a little more sincere. “Mother and Jana always lecture me on my conduct, but I don’t care.”

“It is good for a lady to be able to fight back,” Puss said.

“Exactly!” Gabrielle launched into a description of some of her more violent fights, while she and her feline companion marched down the dusty road, heading straight into adventure.

Crown Prince Steffen, the oldest child of King Henrik of Arcainia, sat in the royal coach with his father as they rumbled along on their unofficial inspection. Steffen had cooked up the country-wide tour as a last ditch effort to show King Henrik why he needed to live. Since the death of his queen, the king’s heart had not rallied.