“You’re the Cheshi… I mean, you’re the Cat.”
“I am indeed. And thanks to you, I’m back in Thiside, for a while at least. For that, and for allowing me to reside in your head, I owe you a great deal of thanks. Walk with me.”
Robert struggled to his feet and walked beside the Cat. They left the courtyard and rather than climbing over the ruins, a path unfolded before them; the broken pieces of buildings slid together to form a flat surface.
“That’s amazing,” said Robert.
“It’s really nothing,” said the Cat. “After a while, you grow tired of floating and climbing and just feel the need for a good stretch of the legs.
“In stories, you’re always a regular house cat. I wasn’t really expecting a panther.”
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, you sometimes get bored with your appearance. Between you and me, I don’t actually look like anything. I’ve always liked cats, though, and so in one form or another I’ve always assumed the image of one. They’re amazing creatures. You can never tell what they’re thinking; makes them very mysterious.”
“What will you do now?”
“I don’t know. I’ve spent so much time existing as nothing. It’ll be nice to be something for a while. I think I’ll travel between Thiside and Othaside, maybe learn a new language. Who knows?”
“At least you have some idea what to do. I don’t know what the future holds for me.”
The Cat stopped, turned to Robert, and sat down. “Robert Darkly, son of a mad man, exiled from his home as a baby. Your life is about to begin.”
“So I will go mad, like everyone thinks?”
“To be honest, a little madness isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I know what you desire most of all.”
“I want to see my father.”
“As you should. When you choose the time, I’ll make sure there’s a door there for you to use.” The Cat sighed. “You should get back to the courtyard. Your Gnome friend isn’t going to last much longer and the Director of the Agency will be here soon, which means it’s time for me to make myself scarce.”
“Will I see you again?”
“I’ll be around.”
Robert looked back toward the courtyard to see that a door had opened there. “Thank you for everything,” he said.
But the Cat was gone.
When Robert returned to the courtyard, Lily and Gnick were crouching next to General Gnarly. The Gnome was pale; his right arm and the majority of his body had been bandaged. Robert could see spots of blood seeping through. Tears glistened in Gnick’s eyes.
“Don’t be upset,” said General Gnarly in his gruff voice. “The road ends for all of us eventually.”
“Thank you for everything, General,” said Lily. “It’s been an honour to fight by your side.”
“I’ll see you on the other side,” said Gnick.
“General, I don’t know what to say,” said Robert.
“It’s okay, moron,” said the General and choked out a laugh. The tiny man fell silent and the life slipped from his eyes.
“Agent Redcloak!” snapped a sharp voice from the middle of the courtyard. “Care to tell me what happened here?”
Lily and Robert turned and came face to face with a short, old woman dressed in a dark suit. Her hair was pulled back tight in a bun and her eyes were small and beady. She was smoking a cigarette and the smoke danced around her. To Robert, she gave off the distinct impression that if he angered her in any way, she’d remove one of his limbs without giving it a second thought.
“Robert, this is Madeline Goose, the Director of the Agency. Director, this is―”
“Robert Darkly,” croaked the old woman. “I know who you are, Mr. Darkly.”
“Rumpelstiltskin is dead,” said Lily, “Robert stopped the spell before it could be completed. Jack betrayed us.”
“I know that already,” snapped the Director. “Agent Tweedle reached me after I sent Jack ahead. The Hatter informed him that Jack was behind the escape. The City Guards will be here shortly to escort him to the Tower.”
“But…”
“No exceptions, Lillian. I’m as much a slave to the rules as anyone else.”
“Yes, Director,” said Lily obediently.
A group of twenty guards arrived at the ruins through the same door that the Director must have come through. They were dressed in full black armour, with red plumes complete with helmets that covered their faces. They were all well built and could probably snap Robert like a twig. Two of them picked Jack up off the ground and slapped him a few times until he regained consciousness.
“Wh… here… the Dwarf,” said Jack, making as much sense as a drunken Scotsman.
“Jackson Rutherford Goose,” began the Director through a cloud of smoke, “you are hereby charged with aiding and abetting the known criminal Rumpelstiltskin with his escape from incarceration and attempting to destroy the regulators that are placed upon the doors. You are to be transported to the Tower immediately by the City Guards. Agent Tweedle will meet you at the border to the Northern Territory to make sure you are successfully delivered to the Tower. On a personal note, I can’t imagine under what circumstances I could be more disappointed in you, my son.”
Robert leaned toward Lily. “Her son?”
“Take him out of my sight!” commanded the Director.
The guards escorted him from the courtyard. Jack struggled with great futility against their grip and screamed back over his shoulder.
“I was trying to make it better, Mother! I wanted to give us purpose again!”
The Director lit another cigarette as she watched Jack get dragged away.
“The Director is Jack’s mother. She’s been the Director of the Agency for several hundred years,” said Lily.
“Mother Goose? The woman who reads stories to children?”
“When the Evil Queen granted Jack and his family immortality, it was his mother that took the most advantage of it. She was a simple woman, a seamstress, I believe. She found new purpose in the Agency and was eventually appointed Director. Jack was recruited not long after.”
“She’s sending her only son to prison.”
“Not an easy thing to do, I imagine.”
“It’s not!” snapped the Director, and Robert actually jumped as the tiny woman stalked back toward them.
“Agent Redcloak, I want you to take the General’s body back to his people and for goodness’ sake, get cleaned up.” The Director turned to Robert and the smoke surrounding her turned with her, as if it was attached.
Robert wanted to point it out, but for once thought it better to keep his thoughts on the inside.
“And what do we do with you Mr. Darkly?”
“I―” began Robert.
“It was rhetorical, Darkly, shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Our usual procedure is to have your memory wiped clean and dump you back into Othaside with no recollection of what you’ve seen or done.”
“I…” protested Robert but was silenced with a dark look from the Director, who continued.
“As you are, in fact, a born resident of Thiside and not completely human either, I see no issue with you remaining here, if you so choose.”
Robert’s eyes lit up. “Yes. I do want to stay here. This has been the most at home I’ve felt in a long time. Wait, what do you mean, not completely human?”
“You were exiled from Thiside when you were a baby. Your mother died in childbirth from injuries that were inflicted by your father. It was amazing that you survived. Your father was imprisoned and you were sent to Othaside to be given a chance at a normal life.”