Reserved for the Cat

Ninette stationed herself in front of him. Looking up at him as if they were having a conversation. Seeing what she was doing, as Alan began to mutter to his little pool of water, Jonathon interposed himself between Alan and the street, his tall form making an effective screen. Anyone who saw them now would only think it was three friends having a peculiarly intense conversation.

Jonathon, of course, could not see what it was that Alan was doing, but he caught some words in a variant of Gaelic that sounded very old indeed.

Alan made a small sound of triumph and spilled the water out of his watch onto the ground. He watched it intensely for a moment, then nodded. “Feel up to a trek?” he asked the two of them, raising his eyes. “I can follow the disturbance in the Water-magic back to the source, I think.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Jonathon observed. “But we should send Mademoiselle back to the theater.”

She opened her mouth to protest. He gave her one of those looks that she had learned meant she was going to get nowhere in arguing with him. Then, as he had learned to do around her, he told her why.

“Mademoiselle,” he said, in a quiet, firm voice, “we do not know what sorts of neighborhoods we may be going through. I am sure you can defend yourself against a single man, or even two, but we might be set upon by a gang. And someone has to tell Nigel that Alan has succeeded in wringing something from the stones, and is off on the hunt.”

Alan was casting entreating looks at her , but she did not look away from Jonathon’s eyes. “All right,” she replied. “Those are good reasons.”

She nodded agreement, but before she could turn to go, Thomas had his own say.

I will be staying with you, the cat put in. You might need another messenger. You might need for someone to get in at a second-story window.

“So that you can tear a room apart?” Jonathon snorted. “I think you were an anarchist in a previous life.”

Not likely. And I wouldn’t have done that if we hadn’t needed to cover what we’d stolen.

“I think there has been enough of arguing. Take Thomas, please, Jonathon.” Ninette said firmly.

He gave her a firm look. “And what if you should run into difficulties?”

She laughed. “Going back to the theater in broad daylight? Really, I am not so helpless as all that!”

He considered how far she had come with that pistol of hers, and nodded reluctantly. “Just take care.”

They parted at the corner, and Jonathon was relieved to see her summon a cab and step into it before he and Alan had moved from their spot. In fact, he let out his breath in a sigh of relief. He should have realized she would be sensible. After all, it was by no means clear that the enemy was actually after Nigel and not her.

He turned to see that Alan was watching him with a very odd expression, as if the young man had only now realized something—thought what that something could be, Jonathon had no idea.

“That is a remarkable lady,” Alan murmured.

“Remarkable in that she has more sense than most women,” Jonathon replied, wondering what had brought that remark on.

Yes, yes, yes indeed, Ninette is a fine creature. Now shall we get on with what we came out here to do? the cat asked in irritation.

“This is going to be aggravating for both of you,” Alan said sheepishly. “I have to follow the watercourses, so I will have to go afoot and will probably lead you on a very meandering course indeed—”

“As long as you actually lead us on something, I do not much care,” said Jonathon, then softened his tone. He hadn’t meant to sound so gruff. “Every Master works within the bounds of his own Element, and I would hardly expect you to conform to a Fire Master’s ways. Lead on.”

Alan nodded, and the odd little procession moved off.

Alan had not exaggerated. He did lead them on a course that was more akin to a cow wandering a pasture than anyone going directly towards something. From time to time he stopped, pulled out his watch, and allowed a little weight attached to the chain to dangle—Jonathon watched it, though, and watched Alan watching it, and knew within moments of the first pause what Alan was doing.

He was dowsing, that most ancient of means to find water. The pendulum would swing in the direction that they needed to go, and Alan would put the watch in his vest pocket and set off again.