"A king should have twice the ordinary amount of common sense," Willow said, to which Niffy replied with an emphatic "Meeerow!"
"There should be nothing 'common' about a king," Willow added primly.
Jamas tousled the formal curls in which she now wore her beautiful black hair-as befit her new station.
"How much we've learned in the past few weeks!" he teased her.
"Giving myself airs, am I?" Willow said in mock indignation.
"At least, you're not seeing shadows everywhere." The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he regretted them and had to coax her out of the return of her anxiety.
"ARE YOU PRESCIENT, my love?" Jamas asked three days later when a courier who had ridden day and night arrived with a missive from Mavron.
"Oh, good heavens, what now?" Willow said. "And it must be important, for here comes Niffy."
"Then it's from Mauritia, isn't it?" put in Laurel who was also at the table with them for lunch. Baron Illify was off on his prince's business.
"Indeed." Jamas frowned at the seal. He had only glanced at the first line when he half rose from his chair in surprise. Niffy let out a wail. "The queen has been delivered prematurely of a son, Geroge has died and the king is now very ill. Mavron requests my presence."
Niffy stretched up, planting her paws on Jamas' thighs and merowing at her most emphatic.
"Yes, yes, Niffy, you'll come, too," Jamas said, stroking the cat's head in reassurance. He passed the letter to his wife. "I'm not at all sure how I can help Mavron, but someone must before that woman takes total control and we discover ourselves dead in our beds from some mysterious ailment."
"What can Niffy do?" Laurel asked, accepting the letter which Willow, looking distraught, handed over to her. "Mavron wrote this himself, too."
"So no one else would know he had sent it." Jamas sat back in his chair, all appetite gone. He locked his fingers together at the back of his head and, tilting his chair, kept his balance by one foot on the substantial leg of the table. "Hmmm." His chair came down with a bang, and he propelled himself out of it, beginning to pace up and down.
Niffy leaped to the chair he had vacated, her almond-shaped eyes watching his progress back and forth. Then he stopped and stared at her.
"All right, Niffy, what do we do?"
"How could the cat know?" Laurel asked, laughing a little nervously at her brother-in-law's unexpected whimsy.
Willow raised a finger and waggled at her sister. "Of course, you haven't been around this Niffy-cat as much as I have. Jamas is reasonably certain that the spirit of Mangan somehow inhabits this magnificent-ooooooh," and she drew in a long breath of amazement, then burst into laughter. "Of course, how stupid not to have guessed. Magnificat! That's your true name!"
Niffy threw back her head and keened a particularly piercing note and puffed up every hair on her body until she appeared four times her actual size. Laurel recoiled in her chair, but Willow seemed amused.
"Of course it is," Jamas said as he strode back to his chair and cupped Niffy's head in his hand, smiling conspiratorially down at the Magnificat. "How like Mangan. How like Mangan you are, Niffy. Did you think I was so dense as not to add up a few of those equations you were always making me sweat through? Did you think I haven't seen your fine feline hand in much that has happened these last few months? However, you have done it, Mangan-Niffy, you have succeeded in leaving behind an essence to guide me. And I never needed guidance more!"
Niffy's fur gradually subsided to a normal appearance and, as Jamas' impassioned words died away, she gave a flick of her head and proceeded to groom her shoulders in the satisfied way that cats have when they've won their point-whatever it might be.
Jamas chuckled. "Frenery!" he called. When the good man arrived, he started his instructions. "Send a messenger to retrieve Baron Illify. Ask Moxtell to lend me his sons and his brothers, and I'll want the Fennells, too. Also Prince Temeron, the Duke of Brastock, and ask Bishop Wodarick if I can borrow those two stalwart canons of his…"
"Estreger and Memmison?"
"The very ones." As soon as Frenery had hastened off to do his bidding, he turned to Niffy. "Shall we see what books I'm to peruse before I leave, my dear Magniffycat?"
"He means it," Laurel said to her sister.
"Of course he does," Willow replied, blotting her lips. "Go with him and see. I'll pack. Will you need any dress clothes?"
"Funeral attire and something quietly elegant for any formal occasions, but leave room for Niffy," Jamas called over his shoulder as he fiddled with the moulding by the fireplace to gain entrance to the quickest route to Mangan's tower. "Oh," he added, sticking his head around the door, "when Grenejon gets here, send him up."
The door had only just closed behind him when it sprang open again.
"Oh, and you two are coming with us, I think. After all, we must present a solid front, mustn't we? I know your mother can ride, but can Sollie?"
"If we are all going with you, who will guard Esphania?" Willow asked.
"Esphanians!" And this time the door stayed shut.
SOMBRE BANNERS COVERED the main gate at Mauritia and informed the hard-riding party that there had been deaths in the royal palace.
"Who goes there?" the captain of the guard demanded, for the gates were also shut.
"The Prince and Princess of Esphania, come to pay respects!"
"I've orders to admit no one. Certainly not an armed company."
"Captain Nesfaru, don't you recognize us?" Willow said, throwing back the hood of her cape. "I'm Lady Willow and here is my sister, Laurel. And Countess Solesne. Surely we may enter and console the grieved."
The captain plainly saw no threat in three women doing what women did best.
"Well, I guess you're all right," he said, grudgingly. "But leave your horses."
"What! Don't be silly, Captain. We can't walk up the hills after travelling as hard as we have," Willow said.
Jamas was delighted to hear his beloved taking charge of events, instead of letting them just happen to her.
"Well…" and again he was indecisive.
"We are tired and wish to present ourselves to her majesty as soon as possible," Laurel put in.
So he agreed to let them in.
"Jamas, I know I can get orders to admit you, too," Countess Solesne murmured to Jamas. "Just dismount and wait."
"Niffy's up behind me now," Willow added as she became aware of a discreet presence under her riding cloak. She tucked the edges in under her legs to provide a safer purchase for the cat. She also felt a lot braver with Niffy entering with them.
THE LIEUTENANT AND three soldiers escorted them through the silent city-every edifice and most homes showing the black cloth of national mourning-to the palace where even lamp standards were dimmed. Not a word was spoken.
They were taken to the guard post, not the main entrance which was closed by the most enormous, and vulgar, black wreath.
"I thought the captain understood…" the portly officer in charge began as they were announced to him.
"Now, Major Hurell," Countess Solesne said in an admonitory tone, "did you think the princess and baroness would be so lacking in respect for the royal house of Mauritia that they would not hurry to her majesty's side to provide what comfort they could?"
"Oh, I didn't-I mean, I had no idea-"
"We came instantly the news reached us," Willow said, once again taking an initiative.
"Yes, of course you would, your highness," the major said, bowing like a bobbing toy. "It is just the sort of thing you would do." The major had commanded the palace guard the whole time Willow, Laurel, and their mother had been required to live there. "Sad times, indeed, with both the king and Prince Geroge gone. Both in their prime. We've had such bad luck in Mauritia." He shook his head.