Andie's Adventures: The Boots and the Lion Page 3

  Andie raced down the road just as fast as her feet could carry her. She went on all fours, and surprisingly, the boots didn’t hinder her at all. She’d tried taking them off after leaving the castle, but they wouldn’t come off and now they actually seemed to be helping her run faster. That was just as well, because she had to get to Rupert and explain everything before the king’s carriage arrived.

  When she reached the campsite, she skidded to a stop and stood panting and looking around. Rupert was nowhere to be seen.

  He said he’d be right here waiting for me, she thought, panic welling up inside her once more. The king and the princess will be here any minute. Where could he have gone?

  “Rupert!” she yelled, or at least that’s what she meant to yell. It came out more like a wordless yowl. Something rustled in the reeds behind her and she whirled around, claws ready. Nothing happened though, so she ventured cautiously toward the reeds. They rustled again. Without thinking, Andie leaped through the air with a shriek and came down in the middle of the reeds on top of whatever it was. Her claws met flesh and a man’s voice yelped in alarm and pain. Andie landed on the ground and crouched, ready for another attack, while her adversary stumbled backwards through the rushes. There was a splash, followed by loud cursing. That’s when Andie recognized the voice. “Rupert?”

  Pushing through the rushes, Andie emerged on the riverbank to find Rupert sitting in the shallow muddy water, pulling weeds out of his dripping hair. He tensed when he saw her, and she noticed that his shirt was torn in several places and his skin underneath was bleeding. Did I do that? she wondered in alarm.

  “Oh, Rupert, I’m so sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t realize it was you.”

  He frowned in confusion, then he saw her boots and his eyes widened.

  “Andie?” He struggled to his feet. “What on earth did you think you were doing?”

  “Defending myself?” she replied timidly.

  “Excellent work,” he said, rolling his eyes. “What are you doing in that form, anyway? Turn yourself back. You’re making me nervous.”

  Andie hesitated.

  “I can’t.”

  Rupert frowned as he waded back to shore.

  “Can’t what?”

  “Turn myself back,” she said. “I’m stuck.”

  He sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Fabulous. Well, did you at least deliver the message?”

  Andie hesitated again.

  “Uh, yes and no.”

  Rupert scowled.

  “What do you mean? Did you deliver the message, or didn’t you?”

  “Well, not the paper one, but I did tell her—” Andie stopped, her ear swiveling toward the road as she listened. The thunder of horse hooves and the creak and groan of carriage wheels were coming up the road, getting closer each second. “Oh, here they come.”

  Rupert stiffened and his eyes widened in alarm.

  “Here who comes? Andie, what did you do?”

  Andie pushed through the tall rushes back to the campsite.

  “There’s no time to explain!” The carriage was stopping, the horses pawing the earth restlessly. In the campsite clearing, Andie stopped and rose up to stand on her back legs. Behind her, Rupert hesitated at the edge of the rushes, unsure of what was going on. In front of her, the carriage door opened and Princess Gwendolen stepped out. She smiled at Andie, then looked at Rupert and blushed. He stared at her open mouthed, hope kindling in his eyes. Then when she stepped aside and the king clambered out of the carriage, Andie watched the hope turn to fear. But she wasn’t worried. At least not until Lord Callum emerged from the dark carriage doorway. It was all she could do to keep her hackles from rising at the sight of him. Instead, she bowed deeply as the king approached.

  “Your majesty,” she said, trying to work a purr into the words.

  The king grunted in acknowledgement and glanced around the clearing with distaste.

  “So, Cat, where is this master of yours, hm?”

  Andie smiled and swept a hand toward Rupert in a grand gesture.

  “Your majesty, I present to you the Marquis of Carabas!”

  Rupert blinked. The princess frowned in confusion, and the king scowled in anger. But Lord Callum snickered.

  “This is the mighty Marquis, is it?” he said with a sneer. “Tell me, Lord Marquis, is it the custom of your court to dress in mud and duckweed?”

  Rupert opened his mouth to retort, but couldn’t find anything to say. The king’s face was growing redder and redder as his anger mounted. Andie realized she had to do something and jumped forward.

  “Your majesty!” she cried. All eyes turned toward her. She froze for a moment, speechless in the sudden spotlight. But then the scratches on Rupert’s chest caught her eye and an idea popped into her head. Taking a deep breath and gesturing dramatically, she launched into her story. “I must apologize for my master’s unseemly appearance,” she began. “You see, just as I arrived to inform him of your gracious acceptance of his invitation, he was beset by robbers, who pushed him into the river in an attempt to take his life!” The princess gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “I did my best to help him, of course,” Andie continued, “but it was he who fought them off and sent them running.” The princess sighed and beamed at Rupert. Rupert stood frozen in uncertainty, but when the princess smiled at him, he smiled back. The king’s anger was nearly forgotten as he took a second look at this impressive, if muddy, young man. Andie looked at each face in turn, pleased with her work, until she got to Lord Callum. His sneer had shifted to something more like a snarl as he watched the silent exchange between the “Marquis” and the princess, and now he turned his glare upon Andie. She felt her hackles rise and her tail bristle as she watched him.

  The pleasant silence in the clearing was broken as Lord Callum laughed suddenly and bitterly. He pointed a finger at Andie.

  “I see what you would do here, Cat!” he cried. “You wheedle and manipulate to give this upstart nobody that which is rightfully mine. But he shall not have her, for you are not the only one to possess the power of transformation!” He stomped his feet angrily, and Andie noticed that his boots were exactly like hers, down to the scarlet embroidery around the top and the gold buckle at the ankle. Then he closed his eyes and raised his hands over his head. His body shuddered, then changed shape: big, golden body, wide mouth with big sharp teeth, big paws with wicked claws. Andie stood rooted to the spot, staring up at the lion that used to be Lord Callum.

  The lion roared, making the reeds behind Andie sway and tremble. The princess screamed and the king scrambled to get away. Rupert paled, but drew his knife and placed himself firmly in front of the royal pair. Andie couldn’t move. She could only stare as the lion stalked toward her.

  “You see?” it said, a purr of pleasure in its deep, throaty voice. “Now, I will tear your ‘Marquis’ into little pieces and the princess will be mine as she was always meant to be. You are welcome to try and stop me, if your magic is powerful enough.” Turning its back on her, it stalked toward its prey. Andie watched in horror as it neared Rupert. His knife would make no difference, but even a sword wouldn’t do much good against so huge a beast. What could she do?

  Andie stiffened suddenly. She’d asked that question before. The answer then had been the boots, but not in the way she’d expected. Could they possibly be the answer again? A plan started to take shape in her mind.

  Forcing herself to stay calm, she sat on her haunches and started licking one of her front paws as if nothing else was very interesting.

  “Neat trick, the lion thing,” she said carelessly. “Simple, easy, but neat.”

  The lion stopped and looked at her.

  “Simple?” it repeated. “Easy? Have you tried it yourself? I doubt you have.”

  Andie snorted.

  “Of course, I have! It’s incredibly easy. Ask any other magician, and they’ll tell you the same. The big ones are cake. It’s the small cr
eatures that are the real trick.”

  The lion shook its head in disbelief.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  Andie paused in the licking of her paw and looked up at him.

  “I’m in deadly earnest,” she said. “Why do you think I chose to be a little cat instead of a big, scary lion like you?”

  The lion hesitated, uncertainty in its eyes. Andie resumed licking her paw.

  “I bet you can’t do it,” she said, tauntingly.

  The lion bared its teeth in a snarl.

  “Of course I can do it!” he snapped.

  “Prove it!”

  “Fine!” The lion closed its eyes, concentrating. Its body shuddered and changed color, shrinking until it would fit into Rupert’s cupped hands. Andie put her paw down, and the weasel that had been the lion glared up at her in triumph.

  “Ha!” it cried. “There! Now I’m even smaller than you. How do you like that?”

  Andie smiled.

  “I like it very much,” she said, and pounced on the weasel. It shrieked and squirmed, but couldn’t break free of her claws. Andie looked up at the king as he huddled behind Rupert and his knife. “Sire,” she said, “I think you’ll be needing a small cage for this rodent.” Rupert smiled and lowered his knife. The princess slipped her hand into his, and the king smiled and wiped the sweat from his brow. Andie looked up at the princess and winked.

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  About the Author

  Kaelan Cessna is a writer with a passion for creating new worlds, as well as re-creating the present one. Her writing projects include novels and short stories in the realms of high fantasy and urban fantasy, with little excursions into science fiction (though they tend to come out sounding more like fantasy as well). Kaelan loves books and has since she was four months old. Growing up, she read voraciously, and it wasn’t long before she was inventing stories of her own. She is currently earning a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in creative writing from Full Sail University. She lives in Colorado, but as much as she loves living under the shadow of the Rocky Mountains, she dreams of one day moving to England.