A Fortress of Pebbles

Mind sizzling, Cassandra saw a new world of details all around her. Most of them involved the tense relationship between Aissaba’s mother and the Master of Language. There was a peculiar way that everyone seemed to hesitate whenever he gave an order, glancing in Nessassa’s direction for confirmation.

It happened when he suggested sending teams to collect specimens of the invasive fauna and to survey the alterations to Earth’s terrain. But things got even more awkward when he suggested establishing thousands of emergency docking ports at “strategic locations” Earth-side.

“Bending that much space would require a communion with the Master of Virtue,” said Nessassa.

The Master of Language spread his hands as if to say, “I don’t make the rules.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Nessassa. This caused a ripple of whispers through the crowd. But it was short-lived. The black-robed officers of stability and order seemed to be taking silent note of whomever was whispering, seemed to be bending their ears to listen.

“That’s not how it works, Nessassa,” said the Master of Language. But even Cassandra could hear resignation in his voice. It was the way Orion got when he had lost the same argument a thousand times but some zombie inside him wanted to keep fighting.

The other three Masters were looking intently at the map of Montana, seeming to ponder the geographic alterations highlighted in red. The Master of Language tried to make eye contact with each of them, but they did not look up.

To Cassandra’s surprise, his eyes ended up on her. She looked away, down into her glowing cider, up to the map of Montana, and back at him. Yep, he was still looking.

“While we’re at it,” he said, “let’s bring his latest chosen one.”

Before Cassandra could say anything, a flash of lightning lit the courtyard, followed by a rumble of thunder that went right through her rib cage. A stone on a necklace around Nessassa’s neck began to glow, seeming to startle her. Murmurs went through the crowd, and everyone’s eyes went to the Master of Language, seeking a translation of this message from on high.

“Who are we,” said the Master of Language, “to second-guess his wishes?”

Nessassa gave a smile that wasn’t really a smile. The next thing Cassandra knew, she was following the two of them into the Spire of Masteries and up an endless staircase. There was no talking, just like car rides with Mom and Dad.

These two had issues. For sure. Cassandra could spot things like that from miles away – even without pebble cider. Speaking of which, she was just finishing her cup. The mind pebble inside went dim. “Um, can I have some more?” Orion asked. Except it wasn’t Orion; it was her own mouth, moving without permission.

***

Cat-Styxx danced in and out, always just at the edge of Tassadu’s talons and teeth. All the while, he mansplained chaos – leaving Aissaba with a single burning question: How can someone so cute be so insufferable?

Occasionally, a blow landed. Sometimes scales on fur; sometimes the opposite. Everything was too fast for her to follow. Tassadu didn’t seem worried, but then again, neither did cat-Styxx.

Presently, he was mid-explanation about how all systems break down (“It’s called entropy on Earth”), whether the system was as massive as an inhabited world or as small as a rock upon it. This seemed as good a time as any to toss the mind pebble at him. He stopped speaking as his body locked into place, brain no longer able to send signals to muscles.

He teetered, like a taxidermy statue, and Tassadu caught him on the way down, laying him gently on the floor. Miraculously, the paralysis had taken him mid-smirk, etching it on his face.

Aissaba placed her palm a few feet above the mind pebble and lowered it just an inch, allowing cat-Styxx to blink and move his mouth. But nothing else.

“If you’ll look in my robe, you’ll find that I predicted this,” said cat-Styxx. “Left side, third small pocket, the one with the tortoise shell button.”

Aissaba rolled her eyes and sat cross legged beside the cat. “You don’t give up do you?”

“My guards are just outside,” said cat-Styxx. “If I need them, I can call them with a single flick of my mind.”

Aissaba could at least appreciate his level of commitment. What would it take, she wondered, to convince him he'd made a mistake, that he'd fallen into a suboptimal situation? She was considering scratching him behind his ears when Tassadu handed her a slip of paper.

Prediction: Aissaba will intervene with mind magic and will mistakenly believe she has control of the situation.

“I’ll admit, that’s impressive,” said Aissaba.

With his index talon, Tassadu rooted through a collection of scraps piled in his other hand, reading bits that interested him: “Tassadu will get the better of me. Aissaba will try to grab me from behind. Tassadu will turn invisible. Aissaba will use the term ‘mansplaining.’ Tassadu will breathe fire. Aissaba and Tassadu will exchange a look.”

“It gets less impressive if you write down everything,” said Aissaba, exchanging a look with Tassadu.

Cat-Styxx smirked up at her. “I saw that.”

Aissaba tried to ignore him, but she couldn’t quite keep herself from blushing. The hairs on cat-Styxx’s neck were slowly rising, too. “So bring in your guards,” said Aissaba. “I hereby call your bluff.”

“Thank you for the offer,” said cat-Styxx. “But I don’t need them yet.”

Tassadu crossed to the door and opened it to reveal an empty stairwell. The ancient artwork on the door reminded Aissaba that hundreds of worlds had lived and died before Aissaba’s story began, that what was happening now was a single, insignificant moment in a sea–

Tassadu shut it.

“Just because you can’t see something,” said cat-Styxx, “doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

The laughter began as a glow in her chest and became a full-scale eruption despite her worries that there might exist a scrap of paper scrawled with Prediction: Aissaba will burst into laughter for the first time in what feels like forever.

Cat-Styxx didn’t seem offended either. In fact, he grinned like he was enjoying himself, too. “If you ask me,” he said, “the recruitment is going quite well.”

“You mean seduction?” said Tassadu, joining Aissaba on the floor next to their supposed captor.

“You said it,” purred cat-Styxx. “Not me.”