In a large, mostly empty castle with many rooms, a labyrinthine design and a tendency to rearrange itself at peoples' whims, a child can easily tire herself searching for anything as small as a gray cat. That night I fell into bed and slept the sleep of the exhausted, with a scraped knee and hoarse voice the only reward for my troubles. I was so tired, and so far away in my tower bedroom, that I don't recall a single disturbance that night. But there must have been, because the next morning my ears were ringing faintly and there were long, deep claw marks on the parapets of the outside castle walls, visible from one of my high tower windows. Being only four years old, I didn't think to connect the arrival of my friend the cat with the noise and upheaval, and, being as I had become used to knowing nothing over the long months of my father's grief, put the strangeness out of my mind. I dressed quickly, ate breakfast delivered to a tray by my bedside with great relish, and set out once again to seek the cat.

He remained elusive, however, and after almost totally losing myself in the bowels of the castle for the third time, my young self was ready to burst into tears of sheer frustration. A rumbling in my stomach distracted me to other, more pressing needs, however, and I trekked wearily back to the kitchen. Halfways there, I crossed the same hallway where I'd first met the creature, and a strange thought crossed my mind- Maybe I could find it using magic! I knew what magic was, I'd seen Father do it often, and even Mother sometimes, and looking for the cat had given me time to put things together in my head. I'd realized that the thing I'd done, with the bubble, seemed very much like what Father did. I didn't understand how I'd done it, or if there was any way to do it again ,and I was a bit afraid to try- the memory of the sheer amount of available power I'd touched was more than a little intimidating. But it was better than endless trudging!

I resolved to do it, but I wasn't sure what, exactly, I needed to do. While pondering this over, a few more thoughts collided with each other and made sense- Tiring as walking about was, it'd never made me totally exhausted before, and I HAD fallen down the one time I'd done anything with 'magic'. Maybe that also explained the unusual appetite I'd had for breakfast in the morning, too. I resolved to test my theory by the easiest way possible- I'd go to the kitchen, have some lunch, and then come back to the bubble and try to see where the cat was. If I was right, it would be easier.

Fortified with a sandwitch which I snook from the kitchen, I ran with all haste back to my bubble to try the experiment, and to avoid the servants, who seemed to be looking for me. I didn't really want to be interrupted by whatever it was, and with father locked away it couldn't be anything important, so I just crouched and scuttled, guerilla-style, till I was able to pop into my invisible little bubble. Inside, I sat down in the middle of the curving, orange-tinted floor and closed my eyes, thinking very hard about the cat, wanting to see the cat, wanting to know where he was... My chubby little fists clenched and I gritted my teeth, thinking as hard as I could. In fact, I was concentrating so hard I completely missed it when I actually did touch the core of power.... touched it and got a little carried away, apparently, because not only did I see where the cat was in a vision seemingly imprinted on the inside of my eyelids, but I actually transported myself there- straight into my father's study!

Opening my eyes in puzzlement at the unexpected change of venue, my feelings changed quickly to embarassment, alarm, and, to some degree, horror, as I scrambled up from the floor to stand before my father, with the cat sitting on a chair opposite him. My face flared bright red and I began to stammer out some sort of apology, but Father smiled, and I stopped. "F-father? Are you all right?"
It was the first question I could think of, the one I'd wondered about for months when, even up in my tower room, I could hear agonized roaring, and, from the nearby hallways, miserable sobbing... It'd grown less lately, but I still worried. As a matter of fact, Father looked terrible. His light brown hair was unwashed and wild, his eyes sunk into deep circles, and he was sporting at least an inch of beard.... not to mention the slashes in his clothes and the ugly gash on the top of his right hand, but he was smiling, and that's why I asked- For now there might be a chance he'd answer yes.

He looked at me, and I'm sure I presented a strange picture- appearing unexpectedly in a flash of light to plump down in the middle of the study floor and stand there, looking at him all concern from my miniscule three feet of height, and not seeming at all concerned by any ability I might have demonstrated. Not to mention that even I had grown a bit the worse for wear as I became better at avoiding the wraiths/servants, and my recent searching. He didn't answer, and his sad smile didn't change, and I was sorry I'd asked, but then he opened his arms and I ran into them, and he hugged me for a very long time, and my hair got damp because he was crying. But I was perfectly happy to have a dad again and at four you don't care much about your hair anyway, so I wasn't bothered as I sat there on his lap and breathed the smell of him and felt quite safe, finally.

Father gave me one last squeeze and I squirmed my way around so I could see the rest of the room as well as his face. "Daddy... what happened? Why is Cat here? How come they wouldn't let me see you?"

 

 

Introduction

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

(Not Yet Written)

Chapter IV (NYW)

Etc.