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“Is he dead?” Pixie asked, her voice once more even and calm.
“I sincerely doubt it. I have seen him die two times and encountered him after the first. A Valkyrie’s sword could kill him, but although Frankie called lightning, she could not channel it with the skill and focus a trained First would.” Archibald settled again, wrapping his tail around himself. As much as he hated to admit it, arguing with Pixie had settled his nerves enough that he could contemplate sleep again.
“It may be Loki and his henchpeople who are responsible for this, then.” She waved her arms around, encompassing the magically warded prison they were enclosed in. “If he believed you were responsible for the First’s separation from him, he would hold you accountable, and may be seeking either retribution or a way back into her life. He could easily take your shape and insinuate himself back into her circle of trust, as long as he had a trusted escort to take him through the wards at the Aerie.”
“That’s why you awaited for me outside the barrier, isn’t it?” Archibald hadn’t thought much of the barrier. It allowed anyone who shared blood with Katrin, Frankie’s mother, through. But only those keyed to the wards could invite others in. By rights, Archibald shouldn’t have passed without Katrin’s personal invitation. “Why did it allow me through? Frankie doesn’t hold the key. Perhaps any animal can pass without hindrance.”
“If so, I would’ve been able to walk through,” Pixie countered. “And I could not. It didn’t hurt, not like the magical wards on this place, but it was impenetrable.”
“Did you attempt it only in your human form?”
“No. I could not pass as my feline self, either.” She tapped her chin with her index finger.
Archibald huffed. He didn’t like feeling helpless, but he couldn’t see a way out. Any attempts to escape at this juncture would result in failure and a great expenditure of energy he would need later. “I am going to take a nap.”
“You can’t give up. Not now.”
Archibald opened one eye and looked at her. “Do you see a way out? Do you have a plan? This room is warded enough that you cannot get through, and I am doubly trapped. At some point, our situation will change. A door will open, food will be brought, wards will be dropped. I need all my energy for that eventuality. I recommend you do the same.”
Archibald closed his eyes again, crossed his paws, and settled his chin on top of them. He took a deep breath and sighed it out. Tension seeped out of his body, and he slept.
Chapter Four
“Wake up!” Pixie’s voice reached Archibald’s ears through a long tunnel.
He yawned and stretched, letting his senses return gradually. He was in no hurry to come to awareness in captivity again.
“Wake up!” Pixie hissed again.
Archibald climbed to his feet and looked at her, irritation bubbling to the surface along with thirst, hunger, and a rather urgent need for a litter box—not that he’d ever stoop so low as to do his business in a plastic box. “This had better be important. I was having a lovely dream that didn’t include you.”
“The door is open.”
Archibald tensed. His head swung towards the wall, and sure enough, the door was cracked.
“Who left it open?” he whispered. “I didn’t hear anyone come into the room.”
“I don’t know,” Pixie replied in an even softer tone. “I fell asleep, too. When I woke, there was a tray of food and a glass of water for me and”—she wrinkled her nose a bit and grimaced at Archibald—“a bowl of water and a can of wet cat food for you.”
Archibald sniffed. “I don’t smell any food or any people, for that matter. Did you eat it all?”
“No, of course not. There’s no way I’d eat mysterious food that appeared out of supposedly thin air in prison. I’m not stupid. And that wet food they provided smelled foul. It was not, as the label proclaimed, a seafood delight.”
“The open door is a trap,” Archibald said. “They’re waiting to see what you’ll do.”
“Agreed,” Pixie said. “But I don’t want to let this chance go. They might be watching, but this might be my only chance to get out of here alive. They don’t know what I am, I don’t think, and might not think to watch for a cat to sneak out—especially if you’re still right here.”
Archibald closed his eyes. Pixie might have been the top cat in Ásgarðr, but she did not have enough street smarts to survive long on her own. “You’ve said several contradictory things,” he pointed out. “You think they’re watching me, so they won’t be looking for a cat. But if our captor was paying any attention at all, he’d have seen your struggle to hold your human form when you’re angry. And besides, your eyes give it all away.”
Pixie’s hands flew to her face. “What do you mean, my eyes give it away? They’re perfectly normal eyes. Pretty, even!”
“They’re gorgeous,” Archibald said, then winced internally. He wouldn’t have revealed that he found her attractive for all the tuna in the ocean. The stress and exhaustion were getting to him. “But they’re cat’s eyes. Humans have different shaped pupils. You play a good human, but I’d suggest wearing sunglasses if you’re going to keep the charade up on earth for very long.”
“We can talk about my eyes later. It doesn’t matter if he, whoever he is, knows I have an alternate form. What matters is the door is open, and I can get out. I hate leaving you here, but I can’t save us from inside, and you’re no help at all. I have to take the chance.”
She wasted no further time. Pixie took a few tentative steps towards the door and nudged it further open with her toe. She froze, but when nothing happened, she pushed it a little more. Then, she touched the doorframe.
Archibald waited with bated breath. He didn’t want her to leave him alone, but if she could escape, that was one fewer person for whoever was behind this to torture.
