Tiger's reaction to the encircling fey was primal and protective. In a swift, almost reflexive motion, he reached out and snatched a small, winged fey from the air, her form delicate and pixie-like. His clawed hand closed gently yet firmly around her neck, a clear display of dominance without immediate harm.
His eyes, burning with a fierce intensity, turned to Barnaby. The room fell into a tense, charged silence, the whimsical charm of the fey now overshadowed by the palpable threat of violence. Tiger's voice, guttural and strained, broke the silence. "I... not... leave... path," he growled, each word a laborious effort but laden with unmistakable determination.
His message was clear: an ultimatum thinly veiled as a request, a demand for safe passage and respect for their newfound circumstances. The fey in his grasp trembled, her wings fluttering in a feeble attempt to escape, but she remained caught in his unyielding grip.
The encircling fey paused, their expressions a blend of shock and caution. Barnaby's face, usually a mask of fey inscrutability, showed a flicker of surprise, then contemplation. The atmosphere, charged with the raw energy of Tiger's protective stance, held everyone in a moment of uncertain standoff, waiting for Barnaby's response to the unspoken challenge.
Barnaby, sensing the gravity of the situation, turned to Tiger with a calm, composed demeanor. His quiet voice cut through the tension in the room as he said, "Drop her." His own hair bristled slightly, and his coat twitched – subtle signs of his own fey nature responding to the charged atmosphere.
"Tiger, do not do this," Barnaby continued, his voice a blend of reassurance and gentle persuasion. "All will be fine, I promise. You will like it here, truly. Imagine – all you can eat! And more than that, I can show you who you truly are. The amazing things you can do, yes! It's only for one night."
His words were carefully chosen, aiming to appeal to Tiger's instincts and curiosity. Barnaby's eyes held a glimmer of something deeper.
Tiger and Barnaby stared at each other for awhile.
The standoff between Tiger and Barnaby lingered, each second stretching into what felt like an eternity. The tension was palpable, a silent battle of wills playing out before our eyes. I glanced at Tiger, then at the fey who were gently urging us towards the exit. It was clear that this was not an assault but a firm insistence.
"Tiger, it's alright. We are fine," I said, trying to ease the situation. "Barnaby, give me my cat," I requested, hoping to defuse the tension.
Barnaby's reaction was swift and sharp. "He is not a CAT," he hissed, his voice laced with a hint of offense. "He, we, are fey, just like you, my Lady. Do not continue to slander us."
His words took me aback. It was the first time I had witnessed Barnaby drop his pretentious facade. I hadn't realized my words could be taken as slander, and while it wasn't my primary concern at the moment, a part of me knew it should be. As I pondered this, a calming sensation enveloped me, slowing my racing heart to a steady rhythm. I recalled something Barnaby had mentioned earlier: All fey were bound by their word, a principle akin to an ironclad contract.
Nodding, I addressed him with newfound resolve. "Barnaby Cheshire, I want to make a deal with you, bound by the word of the fey." The room fell silent, the fey pausing their gentle nudging as they turned their attention to me.
The calm part of me, now guiding my thoughts, urged me to consider my next words carefully. My mind raced, searching for something to offer Barnaby that he would find irresistible. What could I, in my new and unfamiliar form, possibly offer to a fey like Barnaby, who seemed to have the world at his fingertips? The answer, I knew, had to be something unique, something only I could provide.
"Barnaby Cheshire," I began, my voice steady yet charged with a newfound assertiveness, "I, Alex, speak on behalf of Tiger. I raised him, after all; he is mine. The deal is straightforward. You are bound to help Adrian, and now, you shall extend that obligation to me. In return, Tiger and I will immerse ourselves in your ways, learning the essence of being Fey. You will provide for us—clothe us, feed us. For one year, I will serve you in a capacity befitting a noble of the Fey. But should this contract break, you, Barnaby Cheshire, along with your kin, will owe allegiance to Adrian and me, as neutral parties. What say you, Cheshire Cat?" The last words rolled off my tongue, laced with a daring challenge, aimed to provoke.
Barnaby regarded me with a mixture of amusement and surprise. "What kind of deal is that?" he chuckled, his voice dripping with condescension. "I don't need a servant who's more of a liability, a problem, a child. I shall teach your Adrian to be a Fey Lord; no deal is required for that. You have nothing I desire," he chided, dismissing my offer with a wave of his hand.
Despite his words, a smile crept onto my face, an unexpected sense of exhilaration filling me. "Tiger, let's go. Drop your plaything, and let's leave. He may be bound by his words, but we are not," I said sharply, flicking one finger in the air commandingly. A strange, empowering feeling surged through me. My smile widened, my eyes sparkled. Why was I finding joy in this dance of words and power?
Tiger, sensing my resolve, immediately released the pixie. She tumbled to the ground, gasping for air. Unfazed, Tiger began to bulldoze through the crowd of fey, his massive form effortlessly parting them. A look of shock crossed Barnaby's face, his feigned composure slipping.
"Wait! You are not bound to her. You are Taxabi! You are Cheshire!" Barnaby's voice rose in desperation. "I give you my word, Tiger, return to me, and I will give you what you NEED!" The strain in his voice was palpable, betraying a hint of fear.
As we walked away, I couldn't help but feel a mix of triumph and intrigue. What had just unfolded was more than a mere confrontation; it was a struggle for power and I was winning.
Tiger's fierce declaration, resonating with both defiance and loyalty, sent a palpable shockwave through the room. As he bared his teeth and roared, "Alex...Mother...You...are...NOTHING!" the walls themselves seemed to tremble, echoing the intensity of his outburst. Barnaby's confidence visibly wavered, and I could feel a warm rush of excitement coursing through me. A part of my mind teasingly wondered, 'Whose your mother, indeed?'
"There it is, cat," I said, seizing the moment with growing confidence. "Make a deal, or we walk away while you're still bound to assist us. Think of the trouble we could inadvertently lead Adrian into, the uncertainty surrounding Tiger. We might even have to explore our new abilities alone. So, Barnaby, I offer you the deal a second time. Will you accept it?" Internally, I debated whether to push for more in this high-stakes negotiation.
Barnaby turned his back to us, muttering under his breath, "Cat, Rat, Feline... She called..."
Barnaby turned, his back still to us, as he seemed to weigh the gravity of my words. The room hung in silence, the tension palpable. Finally, he faced me, his expression one of contemplation mixed with a hint of surprise. It was clear my words had struck a chord, revealing a facet of the wild fey nature he hadn't anticipated.
"I see..." he began slowly, his voice reflecting a mix of thoughtfulness and realization. "I have indeed underestimated the wild essence of our kind in you." He paused, his gaze piercing, as if reassessing me in a new light. "Very well," he finally conceded with a nod, "I accept your deal. However," he added, his tone shifting to one of sly amusement, "you will refer to me as... Father. Yes, yes, that will be most fitting. You shall be Cheshire!"
His words, laced with a hint of a giggle, sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. My eyes narrowed in response. Father? This sudden insistence on familial terms was curious and somewhat disconcerting. What exactly was Barnaby's angle in this game of fey politics and power? What was it with everyone wanting to be on familial terms with me? I needed more information.
"Explain. Make it plain so even a Mankin can understand," I demanded, my voice taking on an icy edge that echoed in the silent room. Barnaby regarded me with a look that mixed intrigue with a hint of respect.
"In the realm of Fey, familial bonds are... permanent, unbreakable by any contract," he began, his voice steady and measured. "By binding you to me, my fate intertwines with yours, and through you, with Adrian's. As he ascends, so shall I. Power, after all, is the ultimate desire of all Fey." His eyes narrowed slightly, a shadow of cunning flickering across his face. "That is my sole amendment to your proposal. Do you accept it now, Lady Alex?"
The title 'Lady' made me cringe internally, a reminder of the drastic change my life had taken. I felt the unfamiliar force that had been propelling me forward begin to ebb, leaving me momentarily adrift in my thoughts. "In exchange, you will provide for us, teach us, protect us, and guide us?" I asked, seeking confirmation. The Cheshire cat gave a slow, deliberate nod. Gathering my resolve, I declared, "We have a deal."
No sooner had the words left my mouth than the room was engulfed in a whirlwind. A mark materialized on my left breast, glowing with a pale purple light, forming the image of a grinning cat. On Barnaby, a symbol shimmered into existence—a pale silver and blue emblem resembling a Fey woman. Both marks hummed with an ancient power, pulsating for a few moments before fading. I glanced around and noticed similar glowing symbols on everyone present, each unique and mysterious.
Barnaby, now beaming with delight, let out a giggle and began to dance in a circle. He removed his cap with a flourish, waving it enthusiastically at the gathered fey. "Rejoice, celebrate, triumph, and glory! I now have a daughter and a grandson!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.
He then gently picked up the Pixie from earlier, his hands glowing with a soft, healing light. I watched, fascinated, as her delicate wings mended before my eyes. "Toony, my sweet, prepare the way for my children. Spread the word—the new Fey Lady is a Cheshire," he instructed her with a tender but insidious tone.