One girl. Two cats. A world full of adventure.
Abbernathy Tells is a twelve year old girl who prefers the companionship of her two cats and a dying tree over others her age. When a horrible tragedy strikes on her thirteenth birthday, robbing h...
The plan was simple, or at least that's what Margo insisted it would be: break into the castle, retrieve Lain from the dungeons. As she explained her plan in detail, it became clear to Abby, the whole thing would be near impossible.
The castle was built of the same gleaming black stone Abby had seen on the cliff. Aelurians called it ly'ren stone, and because it was mined deep within Aelurus, it could act as a sort of conduit for magick. The magick woven around the castle to protect it from intruders would be three times as strong thanks to all the ly'ren. And that wasn't even the worst of their trouble.
Darkmoore had guards, hundreds of well-trained Wanesguard patrolling castle corridors, and posted at each potential point of entry.
The King also had his own personal guard to contend with - ten fey'la or woman Aelurians, who had raised the King since he'd been a kit. This kind of closeness, invoked a mother's fierceness when it came to protected her cub and made them far more dangerous than a regular Aelurian. They would stop at nothing to protect the one they'd raised as their own.
Margo seemed to think all of this was well within the realm of doable, even though Abby had her doubts. Of course, if Margo managed to get them past the magick, the castle guards, she still had to figure out where this Lain was being kept and then break him out.
The whole thing made Abby's head throb and by the time the plan had been explained, the sun hung a little higher in the sky, and the waitress who'd served the last night came trudging through the door. As soon as she saw they would be her first customers that day, a grimace appeared on her face. She dropped a satchel off at the bar, plucked an apron off a stool, and slouched over to their table, pen and paper in hand.
"Can I help you folk?" She spoke slowly, tiredness dripping from her words. Her eyes were heavy and she released a small yawn.
Abby couldn't help but mimic the cat-woman's yawn. She'd stayed up all night before, but never surrounded by cat people and a drunk mouse-woman. Her head tilted to her right and as her eyes closed, Abby felt fur brush her cheek.
"Mmmm...so soft," she mumbled and nuzzled into the fur deeper.
Margo cleared her throat and addressed the cat-woman. "We're good on drinks. Here," she said and Abby heard something like clinking metal and then the scuffle of feet.
"Abby..." It was Margo who said her name but Abby didn't want to wake up. She was warm and safe and so tired.
"Just a little," she said.
"Let her sleep," a voice said, coming to Abby's defense. It was so quiet, so warm, she knew it had to be Lucy.
"Thank you," she said before she let herself fall asleep.
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When Abby awoke, she found herself riding in the back of a carriage. She propped herself up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. A canvas roof kept the sun from beating down on her. Beside her, Sebbi sat, his head down, eyes closed. Lucy was opposite doing the same. Abby grinned and couldn't resist.
