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She must have known that between her and the other people looking for them, she was preferable. She let him go, and he crept up beside her. Once she no longer had to hold on to him, she let her form slip back into that of a black cat. Loki’s agents were looking for cats, but it was still easier to slip by in the feline form than as a human and her cat.
“Now what? Do we wait them out?” Archibald asked.
Pixie side-eyed him. “Do you think that would work?”
Ordinarily, Archibald would’ve said yes, but with his reserves as low as they were, he wouldn’t be able to hold out for long. He was starving, freezing, and exhausted. The longer they waited with no food or water, the weaker he’d become, and the less likely it was he could make a quick escape.
“Can’t you just call your people?” Archibald asked. “You had those other guards. Why not call for new ones?”
Pixie was silent for a long time before responding with a single, clipped syllable that brooked no argument. “No.”
There had to be a way if she was unwilling or unable to call for additional help. “Can you teleport us?”
“No. I don’t know where we are or where to go, and I couldn’t take you with me, anyway. Carrying others was not a gift I received.”
Archibald wanted to ask about the other gifts besides the ability to take human form, but now was probably not the time. Unless… “I don’t suppose telepathy was one?”
“Why?” Pixie didn’t look at him, keeping her gaze focused on the tableau in front of them, but her left ear turned a bit to better catch his words.
“I know where we are, more or less, and I am familiar with the neighborhood. I can show you a path to safety.”
She scoffed. “And let you run away the second you’re out of my sight?”
“Look at me.” He waited for her to turn her head, something she seemed reluctant to do. “I am exhausted. I can barely stand for more than a minute or two at a time. I haven’t eaten, and I spent hours running last night. And when I wasn’t running, I was shivering in a dumpster, covered in stale beer and vomit. I can’t teleport at all, or else I would already be gone, and since the people over there are likely looking for me, I wouldn’t get very far even if I made a run for it. The only risk to you hopping to safety and coming back for me later is that they’ll find me first, something I very much don’t want to happen.”
“What do you suggest?” She sounded more amendable to listening to his response now.
“Frankie has a safe house not too far from here. I don’t know your range for teleportation or telepathy, but if you can pick the images and directions out of my head, you can get there virtually unseen if you wait until the sun sets.”
“Why after sunset?” Pixie asked.
“You’re a black cat, and it’ll be a lot easier to hide in the shadows,” Archibald pointed out.
Pixie nodded. “Okay, makes sense. But then what? If it’s a safe house, it’s unlikely that I’ll be able to just walk in. Not that that’s the only problem with your scheme.”
Smugness crept up, just a little. Having a plan that was nearly fool-proof and getting to explain it to the cat who excelled at strategy felt really, really good.
“Frankie’s house is warded, but there is an emergency button. It’s the same button that most magical beings have somewhere on their property. People can’t get into the house, but they can call for help should they need it. I’ll tell you where that button is. Frankie or one of her sisters will show up to find out who needs help. Be warned, if it’s Frankie, tell her you know me and are trying to save me from Ash before anything else. She’s turned into a bit of a ‘stab now, ask questions later’ kind of person.”
Pixie took a deep breath. “That takes care of one problem, but there’s still another.”
Archibald cocked his head and tilted his ear a little closer to her. When she didn’t keep talking, he prompted her. “Yes?”
“My telepathy and teleportation skills are weak. I can’t go more than a couple blocks at a time, and I’ll lose any telepathic connection as soon as we’re out of sight of one another.” She sounded sheepish, maybe even ashamed.
“If I give you the image and direction you need to get to Frankie’s, can you take short line-of-sight hops until you get there? Then, once you’re there and Frankie arrives, you can…” This part of the plan was the most useful and the hardest to talk about. “You can bond with her, as you should’ve, and that will make you both stronger.”
“You’d give her up like that, just to save your own life?” Scorn dripped from her words.
“No! Of course not. But I’d give her up to keep her safe and to save your life.” He closed his eyes in resignation. He hadn’t meant to say that last part. He certainly didn’t need her to have any further leverage over him.
Pixie leveled a look of contempt at him. Humans could make that expression, but cats had perfected it, and it pierced him to his soul. “So getting me to the First’s safe house is completely devoid of self-interest?”
Archibald’s temper flared, then died out quickly—he had nothing to sustain it. “You know it isn’t. I don’t want to die on a bluff in Oregon, and I don’t want to be captured. Again. I’d rather you take your rightful place at Frankie’s side and bring me back to the Heart for judgment.” He sighed. “It’ll be better for her, too. You have knowledge and skills I could never have. I’ve not only usurped your position, I’ve put Frankie in danger because of my hubris.”
Archibald couldn’t read the look Pixie gave him, but he hoped it was at least tinged with a little compassion and understanding.
“Okay.”
