Puss in Boots (Timeless Fairy Tales Book 6) (19 page)

“Next one,” Puss whispered, speaking into Gabrielle’s ear so his whiskers brushed her.

She snuck up on the next goblin, who sat on a stool, destroying a child’s doll with a black-metal dagger.

“Sleep,” Puss said.

This goblin didn’t even react. He slumped forward immediately. He almost toppled off his stool—which would have made a racket—but Gabrielle caught him by pressing her foot to his chest. “I’ll have to burn these boots now,” she muttered as she lowered the goblin so he was folded over his own lap.

She unfolded the handkerchief—gold with a black border and the white Arcainian swan stitched into the center—that Steffen had given her when they’d decided on the plan. She grimaced and muttered about diseases before she picked up the goblin’s dagger and approached the hutch that held two of the able men. She used the dagger to pin the handkerchief on the wooden bars of the cage and then backed up. As soon as she stopped touching the dagger and fabric, Puss’s invisibility slid off it, garnering a shocked intake of breath.

Gabrielle moved on to the next goblin—who was already half-asleep—and Puss dispatched him similarly. She scanned the area and was relieved to see that none of the other goblins were looking in their direction. Some were sleeping, but most were involved in a big fight that occupied the northern part of the outpost.

The last goblin guard was watching the fight, so he didn’t hear Gabrielle creep up on him.

“Sleep,” Puss said.

Nothing happened. The guard didn’t look in their direction, but he didn’t fall asleep either.

“Sleep,” Puss repeated.

The goblin started picking his nose.

“It’s the helm. You’ll have to take it off,” Puss said.

This goblin wore a wooden helm like the first goblin, but this style of helm covered the goblin’s pointy ears, and it looked like the inside was padded with moss.

“And how do you propose I do that?” Gabrielle said, her voice a whisper.

“Rip it off his head—like you’re removing the green part of a carrot,” Puss suggested.

“You are ridiculous.” She glanced at the wall, where she could see Steffen and Dominik peering over the rickety structure. “Fine,” she hissed. Her heart squeezed in her chest, but she grabbed the rim of the helm and pulled, yanking the goblin up on the tips of his feet.

Instead of peeling the helm off, Gabrielle—having failed to see the chin strap—choked the goblin. The goblin gagged and scrabbled with the strap, unbuckling it himself. When he was free of his helm, Puss said, “Sleep.” The goblin fell as if he had been turned into stone.

“A safety-conscious goblin. I’ve seen everything now,” Gabrielle muttered, setting down the helm with great caution. It wouldn’t do to make a racket now that the guards were taken care of. She approached the nearest cage, and Puss leaped from her shoulder, shattering the invisibility spell and drawing startled gasps.

“Shh, we’re here to rescue you.” Gabrielle worked on the crude wire latch as a woman started to tear up and covered her face with her hands, muffling her sob. “You
must
be silent,” Gabrielle said, wrenching the door open—it was only a little bigger than a rabbit hutch. The refugees had to crawl out on their hands and knees.

“This way,” Steffen called quietly as he eased over the wall. When the first refugee—a stick of a girl—approached him, Steffen boosted her up over the wall, into the waiting arms of his soldiers.

Gabrielle unlocked the cage occupied by the woman, her toddler, and two other children. She pushed the door open and glanced over her shoulder. The goblins still hadn’t noticed, and the fight in the north area had grown bigger.

Next, Gabrielle unlatched the cage that held two men, cutting her fingers on the sharp wires. The men helped boost the children over the fence, and Gabrielle raced to the last cage, which held a man and a woman. Puss was trying to paw it open, unsuccessfully. She easily maneuvered it.

The woman scrambled out first, and the man—her husband, judging by the way she clutched his hand—crawled free from the cage just when a goblin caught sight of them.

The goblin shrieked and jumped up and down, babbling in its language. It grabbed a spear and ran at them, snagging the attention of a few other goblins.

“Move! Quickly, now. We don’t care how much more noise we make,” Steffen said, boosting a woman over the fence.

The male refugee helped his wife over the wall before making an attempt himself. He was so weak, his arms buckled, and he fell back.

“We’ll do it together. Jump,” Steffen ordered, boosting the man up. He hefted him over the wall just in time to throw a dagger, hitting an incoming goblin in the throat as it tried to scramble around the cages. “Gabi,” he said, his voice tense as the goblin fell with a gurgle.

“Coming,” Gabrielle said, standing just in front of the line of hutches. She bashed a goblin in the skull with her sword.

“Now is not the time to fight, Gabrielle,” Puss said, his voice sharp as he jumped the wall.

“I know,” Gabrielle said, running for the barrier. She jumped it with the grace of a deer, Steffen right behind her.

They sprinted to the forest, catching up with the soldiers and refugees. Behind them, twelve goblins popped over the wall, chasing them.

“Twelve goblins; I can handle those odds,” Gabrielle said.

“You forget, there’s another group of ten wandering in the forest, and we’re moving slow,” Steffen warned.

“The refugees can’t move any faster, Your Highness,” Dominik said, the eight-year-old on his back. The boy was barely more than a skeleton. His shoulders were thin and bony, and his eyes—which were anchored on Puss—seemed too large for his head.

“I know,” Steffen said. “Can you make all of us invisible, Puss?”

“Oh, so now that you want something, you use my name,” Puss said, jumping a branch.

“Puss,” Gabrielle said.

“I’m not that powerful. Covering Gabrielle and myself is my limit. I’m sorry,” Puss said,

“Should we split up?” Gabrielle asked.

A goblin arrow shot past her, shattering when it hit Alwin’s helm-covered head. “Only if we’re desperate.” Alwin’s flat voice held a note of grimness.

Moritz swung around, an arrow nocked in his bow, and shot in one smooth movement. The arrow must have found its target, for somewhere behind them a goblin screamed, making Gabrielle shiver.

“We’re slowing down.” Puss’s eyes narrowed as he loped along.

“The refugees. They haven’t much stamina,” Dominik said.

Gabrielle looked over the rescued commoners. All of them were frightened, pale, scratched up, and bruised. “Puss and I will be the rearguard. We’ll face our followers and catch up.”

“No,” Steffen said.

“It’s the best plan. Together we can be a regular nightmare,” Gabrielle said.

“We are a perfect match,” Puss said, his voice humble in spite of the proud words.

“I’m staying with you,” Steffen said, slowing from a jog to a walk.

“Kronprinz,” Alwin started, also slowing down. Moritz lingered with him. The rest of the soldiers and refugees kept moving.

“Take the refugees back to Jagst and warn my father, in case the outpost decides to launch an attack. Those are your orders.”

Alwin flattened his lips, and Moritz shook his head.

“I said those are your orders. Go!” Steffen growled.

Moritz glared at Steffen and shot an incoming goblin. Alwin bowed to Steffen and ran after the rescue party, Moritz reluctantly following him.

“Are you sure about this, Your Highness?” Puss asked.

“There are five other princes behind me. Should the worst happen, the country will survive. More importantly, Moritz took out two goblins; that means we have a minimum of ten incoming.”

“Puss,” Gabrielle said, bending over.

“Coming.” Puss grunted when he leaped onto her shoulder. As soon as the pads of his paws touched her, the gelatinous feeling of Puss’s invisibility spell covered Gabrielle.

Steffen darted behind a bush just as the first three goblins veered near. Gabrielle caught the first one by surprise, landing a killing blow. The second goblin—looking wildly about for the invisible foe—was just as easy to take out. The last hurtled in her direction, spear extended.

Puss leaped from her shoulder and landed on the goblin’s face, howling and scratching him until Steffen sank a dagger into the creature’s back.

They didn’t have enough time to regroup for the next surge of goblins—the remaining seven.

Puss took out the first two with sleep charms, and Steffen downed another with daggers.

Gabrielle kicked out at a goblin—hitting him square in the face—and brought her sword down on its head.

Steffen grabbed a spear from one goblin, knocked it on its back, and killed it. Gabrielle parried three blows from another, then she screamed and pointed behind the fiend. The goblin turned, and she hit him in the neck with the flat of her sword—tossing him to the ground—before braining him with the pommel. Puss tried to charm the last goblin, but it was so distraught it ran into a tree—knocking itself out.

“Is that all of them?” Gabrielle asked. Winded, she leaned up against a tree for support.

“I think so, but we had better wait a minute or two, in case of stragglers,” Steffen said, fixing himself in the shadow of a large tree.

“Why is there such a big outpost here? I can’t believe it’s allowed! Why haven’t any magic users done something about it?” Gabrielle asked. She slipped between a shrubbery twice her height and a tree, hiding herself.

“It’s all about borders and laws,” Puss said, his eyes glowing as he peered through the forest. He didn’t bother to hide but meandered in Gabrielle’s direction.

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t a surprise that the ogre slaughtered the family that owned Carabas. The Marquis of Carabas was a twisted man. The land was already turning sour under him,” Steffen said.

“Which made it a prime target for evil creatures—like the ogre—to flood it. Under the ogre’s squatting, more darkness has come to Carabas—like the candy cottage witch and the goblins,” Puss said. “Darkness will always seek out darkness so it can—not only survive—but become stronger in an environment that will nurture it.”

“Why didn’t anyone do anything?” Gabrielle asked, pushing a leafy branch away from her face.

“Many tried…and failed,” Steffen said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Heroics aren’t always as straightforward as one thinks,” Puss said. “There are heroes, like Prince Rune, who do good deeds for mankind. All that is required to be such a hero is bravery, intelligence, and usually physical prowess. But sometimes, just any hero isn’t enough. Sometimes a certain type of person is needed to triumph over a particular trial or evil.”

“Someone even stronger than a hero?” Gabrielle asked. “Like a magic user?”

“Not necessarily,” Puss said. “It’s like the old legends—the Snow Queen, or the girl with the glass coffin. They were the heroes needed at that exact time. No one else could have saved Verglas as the Snow Queen did. ”

Gabrielle crouched in her bush, wincing when a thorny branch scraped her arm. “And you think Carabas needs such a hero?”

“I don’t think. I know,” Puss said.

“The cat might be right. Whenever someone tries to break Carabas free, they fail. It’s like the place is cursed—from all the bloodshed and twisted selfishness.” He started down the path. “It seems we are free for now. I think we can catch up.”

Gabrielle slipped from her uncomfortable hiding place, slow to follow. Puss trotted on her heels.

“Puss?”

“Hm?”

“You think that Carabas is special, and you believe that I—the selfish daughter of a miller whose main goal in life is to have an adventure—can free it?” Gabrielle asked.

“I do,” Puss said. “I don’t know if there is such a thing as fate, but you were born for a time such as this. You might think yourself a mere peasant out on an adventure, but you have turned the tide of the northern villages. You have brought hope—without possessing a scrap of magic or years of combat training. You are the hero Carabas desperately needs—a child of the land with the heart of a lion and the impudence to steal and gamble against evil.”

“Who also has a magic cat,” Gabrielle smiled.

“Indeed,” Puss sniffed.

“Alright.” Gabrielle locked her legs. “We’re going.”

Puss twitched his whiskers in joy. “Excellent.”

“Right now.”

“What? You’re mad.”

“Yes, I just might be.”

“Good. You’re learning,” Puss said. “What will you say to the bumpkin-head?” Puss nodded at Steffen, who finally realized the two had fallen far behind and was jogging back to them.

“What’s wrong?” Steffen asked.

“I can’t go back yet,” Gabrielle said.

“Why?”

“There’s something Puss and I have to do.”

Steffen looked back and forth between the two. He tucked his chin—getting ready to argue.

Gabrielle reached out to touch his hand. “Please, Steffen.”