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The part of him that was a cat purred almost involuntarily under her ministrations, and Tabitha became firmer than Leo had ever seen her before. There would be no argument. “You will stay here tonight.”
Chapter 27
Herding Cats
If Archie’s life were a faerie story or even one of the old plays, the next sunrise would have been bright with scarlet in the sky. Or perhaps, as the fates loved irony, it would have been overcast with gray. But no, it was somewhere in the middle—an unremarkable spring morning that brought Archie out to meet his brother, barefoot and wearing some old hand-me-downs fitting for a miller’s third son. He helped to load the cart with all the supplies the king had gathered for Carabus and then sat in his usual place. “I appreciate this, Harris.”
His brother didn’t even turn to look at him, hiding behind his floppy hat and long bangs as he steered his cart through the streets of Castletown. “It’s an official charter from the king. What was I going to do? Say no?”
“Still, I appreciate it.”
Harris shook his head. “You appreciate it—you appreciate the king sending you out like a sacrificial lamb to investigate the Ogre of Carabus and his pet monster. The king’s probably hoping you get yourself eaten. It would solve a few problems for him, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Archie said, refusing to rise to his brother’s bait. Harris was only parroting the same lines both of them had learned from childhood. If Archie was to fight for the king, he would be used as fodder. And if he was to love a princess, he would be her fool. “But I hope to solve some problems for him by not being killed. If I can help it.”
He really didn’t know how to explain how glad he was to fight a monster. To finally know for certain what he wanted and all the steps required of him to get there. To finally prove his own worth and become his own master, even if he died in the attempt. It was the kind of risk that called to his soul and could make all his work worthwhile. It was the opportunity to do something so grand that he could stand by his beloved’s side and no longer feel the need to shrink.
Harris looked over his shoulder for a moment before letting out a breathy sigh. A sigh that seemed to say that he thought Archie was an idiot, but he was still his idiot. Brothers. “You and Rupert—you just get under each other’s skin, but he’d calm down if you talked to him right. And I told him from the beginning that he needed to be more straight with you too, but he was afraid you would bolt, and then that’s exactly what you did . . .” He shrugged. “But it isn’t a bad deal. Being a baker. Not risking your life. Just being . . .”
“Normal?”
Harris kept his eyes on the road. “Nothing wrong with normal.”
“I suppose not.” Archie was surprised how much truth he found in the words. “And I still want the best for you. For Rupert too.” He had wanted something different for himself so badly, but perhaps he had taken it too far, offending his brothers unnecessarily.
He had never wanted to do that.
When his mother was alive, Archie had no reason to begrudge his lot as a miller’s son. And even now, could he truly resent the father who had provided so much for him? Resent the brothers who took to their proper work, allowing him to reach for something different? There was still so much of his family’s normal, orderly world that he relied on. Even treasured.
Archie might have been born with a different sort of spirit, but that didn’t mean he expected the rest of the world to bend over to accommodate him or follow him down the same twisted path. In fact, it was probably better that they didn’t. The world needed good and steady millers—perhaps more than it needed uncertain dreamers.
From the beginning, Archie knew Rupert should inherit the house and the mill. All of it. They were assets that only worked as a unit and trying to divide them evenly would have only put him and his brothers at each other’s throats that much faster.
Archie hadn’t cared that Harris got the donkey and cart.
But when Archie saw his name listed with the magic cat—well, he had thought there was only one way to read it but perhaps not. Instead of a slight, it could have been an olive branch. Archie was the third son. He was never meant to stay at the mill, but instead of locking him into another sort of apprenticeship, his father had left him with an invitation to chase his own dreams.
To be his own master and find his own freedom.
He didn’t have to be normal. Not when he had a magic cat.
“And what exactly is your plan?” Harris asked.
It was only an extension of the king’s plan, but it rolled off his tongue easily enough. “Let you bring in the supplies. Mix with the servants. Find a way into the keep.”
“And then?”
“And then . . .” What would happen then? Perhaps he wouldn’t know until he breached the ogre’s gates, but Archie felt another burst of hope as they neared a familiar second-hand shop. “You think we could stop here for a second?”
Harris cocked his head. “You want to get yourself another fancy outfit for your day at the ball?”
“Something like that,” Archie said, preparing to jump out of the cart.
* * *
Leo wasn’t surprised Archie came to see him at Tabitha’s again. The boy couldn’t do anything without Leo’s help, already looking like a scruffy, shoeless miller’s son again.
But Leo was surprised when Archie reached the porch and knelt on the ground before him.
