Witch, Cat, and Cobb Read online

  Table of Contents

  Witch, Cat and Cobb

  Book Details

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  About the Author

  Witch, Cat and Cobb

  J.K. PENDRAGON

  Destined for an arranged marriage she wants nothing to do with, Princess Breanwynne decides that the only option for escape is to run away. Upon the announcement of this plan, her trusted pet cat reveals he can talk by asking that she take him along. Listening to his suggestion to venture into the lair of the Swamp Witch proves to be a very bad idea, but Breanwynne would rather face a witch any day than be forced to marry a prince.

  BOOK DETAILS

  Witch, Cab, and Cobb

  By J.K. Pendragon

  Published by Less Than Three Press LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

  Edited by Michelle McDonough

  Cover designed by Aisha Akeju

  This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  First Edition October 2015

  Copyright © 2015 by J.K. Pendragon

  Printed in the United States of America

  Digital ISBN 9781620046142

  ONE

  I was not accustomed to swamps.

  I had been warned about the dangers of swamps, of course, as all children were, and knew that the likelihood of traversing the swamp without grave peril befalling me was dismally low. But somehow, in the course of plotting my grand escape, I hadn't given that fact as much thought as I should have. And to pay for it, I was knee-deep in muck with a cat's claws digging painfully into my shoulders.

  "Don't make any sudden movements!" said Fen, digging his claws even deeper, until I was certain he had latched onto my bone. "It'll only make it worse."

  "Make it worse?" I screeched at him. "How could this possibly be worse?"

  Fen released his front claws from my neck and placed them gently on my head, "I've heard about this sort of ground. If I'm right, it'll be a few hours before it's swallowed you whole. Whoops!" He had jumped up onto my head, his back legs scrambling over my ear and causing me to shout in pain as his claws grazed me.

  "Ouch!"

  "Shh, I'm balancing." He turned delicately on my head and crouched, wiggling his backside for good measure. "Anyway, you don't know what sort of creatures you're likely to attract, making so much noise." He jumped, shoving me deeper into the muck as he did so, and caught a branch, scrambling up and then perching deftly to look down at me. His normally tawny fur was black in silhouette against the full moon, his eyes a green glint in the otherwise dark swamp.

  "I should never have trusted you," I said, glaring up at him. "You've led me to my death!"

  "I haven't!" called Fen, sounding offended. "Anyway, you agreed that the swamp was the best choice because no one would come looking for us!"

  "And no one will find us even if they do!" I squeaked.

  "Hush." Fen took a step forward, and the tree shifted as he arched his back, swaths of witch's hair dipping into the muck next to me. He took another step forward, and the branch swayed and bowed downwards. "There, see? Grab that."

  I did so, glad I had thought to change into my riding breeches before leaving the castle, and attempted to haul myself up, my fingers tangling in the greasy mats of the witch's hair as I did so. Fen made a very un-cat-like screech, and raced up the tree as it buckled further under my weight.

  At last I managed to pull myself up and crawl over to where I hoped the ground was more solid. I let myself down with a whump and sat, collecting myself. Fen landed lightly on my shoulder, and I hissed at him, causing him to scuttle away and behind the tree.

  "Don't do that," he said presently, his voice muffled by the leaves and bracken. "Show some gratitude."

  "Right," I said, standing up and attempting to brush myself off as best I could. I was also not accustomed to being quite so dirty. "Thank you for saving me from the peril you yourself put me in."

  "You are the one who wanted to run away, Princess, if I might remind you." Fen emerged from behind the tree and trotted up to me, jumping deftly back onto my shoulder. "I simply agreed to help you out."

  "You think I don't know that you've got some sort of ulterior motive?" I asked him as I began to walk again, keeping a wary eye out for more of the muck I'd sunken into.

  "What ulterior motive could I possibly have?" said Fen. "I'm a cat."

  "A talking cat, I might add. Who waited for how many years, twenty? To decide to reveal that fact to me, and not until I had mentioned that I might be thinking of running away to the swamp. Why?"

  "I just liked the sound of it."

  "You liked the sound of this?" I gestured to the seething wet darkness around us and stopped walking. "No, tell me immediately."

  "Hmph," said Fen. "If you must know, I'm not really a cat."

  "Fen, I've been undressed in front of you!"

  "Oh, don't be so full of yourself, Princess."

  "I've had ladies in my bed while you were there!"

  "I didn't watch!" Fen jumped from my shoulder to the ground and licked his back defensively. "What was I supposed to do? It's not easy being a man trapped in a cat's body, you know. I was living in the barns before you took a liking to me. I wasn't going to risk being kicked out of your quarters if you discovered I could talk!"

  "So," I crossed my arms, trying not to think of all the silly childish sob stories I had told Fen, all the private things I had done in front of him throughout my childhood, assuming he was just a normal cat. "That brings us back to my original question. Why tell me now?"

  "Right, I'll tell you, but can we keep moving?" He sniffed the air. "I swear we're close."

  "Everything, then," I said, following him down a narrow path of moss between two trees sunk deep in a shallow, slow-moving stream.

  "Fine, if you must know, we're here looking for a witch."

  "What, the Swamp Witch?"

  "The very same," said Fen, turning and jumping onto my shoulders again. His feet were wet from the moss, and the cold seeped through to my skin. Some of the muck had also soaked into my boots, and my feet sloshed as I walked. I wished for my fireplace back home in the castle. But not for everything else associated with it. "It's her fault I'm a cat, you see," Fen continued. "And she's the only one who can turn me back. I would have gone and asked her to change me back years ago, but I barely got out of the swamp alive, and I knew I'd never be able to find my way back alone. You're the first person who's even mentioned going into the swamp in twenty years."

  "I wish you'd told me earlier," I said. "Oh look, a path."

  "Yes!" Fen shouted. "I recognize that! Follow it."

  The path was made of wooden slats, trailing around moss and rocks, and slowly meandering its way up a hill. I hoped it wasn't some sort of trap. Fen jumped from my shoulder again and trotted ahead. As we walked, dim green lights began to light up in the ground on either side of the path, lighting and leading our way.

  "Doesn't this seem a bit—" I looked around warily, "—convenient?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well..." I was about to mention that the green lights seemed suspiciously like the fairy lights I had read about in books as a child and that if we were really getting close to the abode of the Swamp Witch, we were probably likely to be walking straight into a trap. Unfortunately I wasn't able to say any of that, because I had walked straight into a trap.

  The wooden slats gave out under us, and a
dark pit appeared where they had been a moment before. Fen let out a great mraoow as we fell, and I very loudly said a word that my mother would have pinched me for whispering. We landed in squelchy mud, which luckily cushioned the blow so that I didn't think I'd end up with more than a bit of bruising to both my backside and my pride.

  "I was going to say," I huffed, "that we're likely walking straight into a trap."

  "Oh," said Fen. "I think you may be onto something there."

  There was a scuffling from above us, and some muffled curses. I thought I heard, "What the bloody devil?" and then a dark form peered over the side of the pit. "What the hell are you two doing down there?"

  "What?" I shouted back. "Isn't this your trap?"

  "Well, yes," said the figure. "But people don't usually fall into it."

  "What's it for, then?"

  "I suppose it's for people to fall into, technically," said the figure, "It's just that usually people don't, on account of there not being people to do so."

  "Right," I said. "Hello, then. Glad we could be useful. Maybe we could come up now?"

  "Hmm." said the figure, after a pause. "Alright. I'm sure I've got a ladder here somewhere, hang on."

  The figure disappeared, and I stared at Fen. "Is that her?"

  "The witch?" said Fen. "I think so. Couldn't really see very well. It's dark, you know."

  "You're a cat!"

  "I know," said Fen drearily. "You don't have to remind me."

  There was some scuffling from above, and the dark figure peered over again. "Right, so, I've brought a ladder, but I've been thinking, and I really feel like I ought to interrogate you a bit first."

  "What?" I shouted. "Why?"

  "I've got you in my trap," said the witch. "Seems like the thing to do."

  "Sure, but—" I looked around, "—it's dark down here. And I can barely hear you, and if you're really a witch, you can turn us into toads if we try to escape."

  "That's true," said the witch. "Alright, I'm letting the ladder down."

  A moment later a ladder made of thick branches plopped into the mud next to us. I perched Fen on my shoulders and tested my muddy boot on the first rung. The bark provided good friction, and I was able to climb it quite easily, despite Fen's heavy weight on my shoulders. When we finally reached the top, I climbed out onto the firm ground, and regarded the robed figure next to me.

  She was taller than me, although that didn't take much, and the lower half of her face that I could see looked green in the fairy light. She had her arms crossed, and a long polished wand hung from her long fingers.

  "Hello," I said. "I'm Brean."

  The witch cocked her head at me. "Princess Breanwynne, you mean?"

  I swallowed. "Is it that obvious?"

  "You look like your father." She uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on her hips, and I eyed the wand still dangling from her fingertips warily. "What are you doing out here?"

  "Oh, you know," I attempted a winning smile, but my voice squeaked. "Running away?"

  "From?"

  "Oh, just... responsibilities." When she didn't say anything, I elaborated. "The, erm, marital type."

  "I see." Her mouth was pinched, but I thought I saw it soften a bit. "Well, it's getting late, so you might as well come inside for the time being."

  "Really?" I bit my lip and on cue, my whole body shuddered, as if it had been waiting to inform me of exactly how cold, wet and tired I was. "That would be lovely."

  "Don't make yourself at home or anything," said the witch. She turned to lead me after her and Fen jumped off my shoulder to follow silently behind us. He glanced up at me, green eyes like lamps, but said nothing. I supposed he was waiting until we were inside to announce to the witch that he needed her help.

  We rounded some trees, following another path, this one without any fairy lights, and entered a clearing. Ahead of us, past a makeshift fence, was a little cottage lit by warm glowing lanterns and the glow of a thousand fireflies. As we grew closer, I realized that it was a cobb house, made of packed earth and mud that had been molded into beautiful flowing designs. Flowerbeds surrounded the house and a wild growth of plants crawled up its side and crept out onto the mossy lawn. The front porch was cobb as well, scuffed and worn and covered with patchy rugs, old boots, broken flowerpots and a large cauldron with a crack down the side of it.

  It was a witch's house through and through. All my life I'd been warned about witches: not to talk to them in the street or to take any food from them, and definitely never to go into their houses. And that was just the witches in town. Now I was outside the home of the Swamp Witch, the one whom my nursemaid had warned me about. Who performed all manner of black magic, who summoned the evil creatures that inhabited the swamp, and who ate any little child who ventured too far past the stone wall that separated the swamp lands from Priia.

  The wooden door was open a crack and a warm flickering light spilled out onto the porch. I could smell the smoke of a fire, and something good cooking mixed with honeysuckle and wild rose and a million other flowers that I couldn't name. The witch wiped her boots on the rug outside the door and gestured for me to do the same before opening the door all the way and waving me in after her. I followed.

  I had almost forgotten about Fen, but he slipped in just as the witch closed the door. She watched him trot to hide behind my legs, and then with a shout, she lunged at him, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and slamming him against the clay wall.

  "Hey!" I shouted, rushing to pull her off of him, but her arms were stronger than mine. "That's my cat, let him go!"

  "It's not a cat at all!" replied the witch. Her hood had fallen back, and I could see that she was an elf; probably one of the Saishen elves from the West, with dark skin and long, pointed ears that stuck out beyond her braided black hair. "Hello again, old friend," she said to Fen. "Come to beg my forgiveness?"

  "Let him—" I faltered. "Wait, what do you mean, forgiveness? You're the one who turned him into a cat!"

  "Is that what he told you?"

  "It's true," spat Fen, his tail twitching angrily. "Let me go, witch!"

  The witch tilted her head, her eyes narrowed, but she let him go. Fen dropped to the ground and raced away to hide under a chair by the stone fireplace.

  "I don't generally turn people in to cats for no reason," said the witch, turning to put her hands on her hips. "Is that what you've been telling people?"

  "It's the truth," hissed Fen. "I did nothing wrong, and anyway, it's been twenty years!"

  "Has it? How time flies." She turned away from him, and went to light a few candles in the kitchen, snapping her fingers into flame and touching them to the wicks. The cottage was just as cozy-looking on the inside, warm and cluttered with books and nick-knacks, and what I could only assume to be the tools of the trade, not having had much experience with witches. A fat black cauldron sat in the corner of the kitchen next to a squat wooden stool and a table of herbs in varying states of preparation. The witch perched herself on the stool and began to stir the contents of the cauldron. "So, you've come to beg me to turn you into a human then," she said, "knowing full well what that would entail."

  "It's only fair," replied Fen. "That was our agreement."

  "Ha," said the witch. "You broke our agreement with your dishonesty. You betrayed me. I owe you nothing."

  "What happened?" I asked, and the witch turned her sharp eyes on me.

  "I don't recall it being any of your business, Princess."

  "He's my cat! And I'm the one who got him all the way out here so you could turn him back into a human, and I think I deserve to know what he did to get turned into a cat in the first place."

  The witch continued stirring her cauldron. Fen emerged from under the chair by the fireplace and jumped up onto it to begin cleaning himself.

  "You're covered in mud," said the witch to me.

  "Your trap was dirty," I responded petulantly.

  "I suspect you were dirty before that. Why are you
wearing riding clothes?"

  "It was the only pair of trousers I owned."

  The witch stood and went to the hallway. Behind her, the cauldron continued to stir itself. "Every woman should own at least one set of sensible trousers," she said, "not odd-shaped hose like those. Wait here, I shall bring you a change of clothes. Actually," she stopped and turned away from the door she had been going to open. "If you're going to be staying here, you might as well bathe. I'll draw you a bath."

  She snapped her fingers, and a shower of purple sparks flew from them. "There, the tub should be full. Snap your fingers twice when you're ready for it to empty. You should find a bed," she gestured to the third and final door, "in there, somewhere. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was just about to go to bed before you two arrived, and I shan't be letting you deter me any longer. We'll discuss this in the morning." With that, she disappeared into the bedroom, leaving me and Fen alone by the fire.

  Finished with his own bath, Fen stood and stretched. "I hadn't assumed I'd be able to bring her round right away," he said. "But I thought she'd let you stay. She's only got a hard shell, you see."

  "She seems reasonable," I agreed. "Which makes the question of what enraged her enough to turn you into a cat all the more pressing."

  Fen neglected to answer that, choosing instead to jump down off the chair and trot into the spare bedroom. I sighed, and pulled my boots off, leaving them and the mud coating them by the door. I pulled off my wet stockings as well and walked barefoot to the bathroom.

  There was a mirror, and an indoor toilet, which I thought was rather fancy for a cottage in the woods, but I assumed it had something to do with magic. A towel and a set of plain dull green clothes had been set out on the deep molded windowsill, and in the centre of the room was an oblong copper tub, full to the brim with steaming hot water. I rushed towards it, stripping off my clothes as I did so, and climbed in. Despite the fact that it was near-full, the water level remained the same as I lowered myself into it.

  After the chill of our long trek through the castle grounds and the harrowing journey through the swamp, the bath was bliss. I lowered myself so deep that only my nose was above water, and reached up to touch my hastily chopped-off hair.