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“I’d really like it if you tried to be nice to them.”
Kalina’s purr dies in her throat. “To ‘them’? Who’s that?” She says innocently. There’s a bitter taste in her mouth.
“The Bad Kids,” Cassandra says, “Kristen. You know who I’m talking about.” She strokes Kalina’s head again, scratching her absently behind the ears. Kalina closes her eyes and leans into it for one more blissful moment before ducking her head and shaking her off.
“You’ll have to be the nice one,” she says distastefully. “I’m afraid I’m going to pass.”
Cassandra’s face falls. “At least don’t fight with them,” she pleads helplessly. “I don’t— I only have you guys. Right now.”
Kalina butts her head back into Cassandra’s palm in a panicked attempt to stop her Goddess from what is starting to look like tears. “Only for now,” she insists. “I swear it.”
Cassandra smiles weakly and gives Kalina a scratch under the chin. Kalina tilts her head up to accept it. “Can you swear not to fight with them, then? For me?”
Kalina’s heart sinks. She would do anything for her Goddess, of course, but this…is something she doesn’t actually know if she has control over. She simply disdains them. It’s the only thing she can feel.
‘Is that an order?’ she almost asks before remembering this version of her Goddess doesn’t give orders. “Okay,” she says instead. “I’ll…do my best.”
—
She hits the floor in a tangle of limbs and immediately springs to her feet, a threatening growl building in her throat as she tenses into a crouch and unsheathes her claws. She didn’t land on her feet. Tsk. At least whoever in the room that saw it would be dead very, very soon.
“Holy shit.”
Kalina’s eyes snap upwards to her targets. If they could see her, it meant they were already infected. Good. Slit their throats and get out. Whoever cleans up the scene will surely carry the traces with them.
Kristen sits on the floor in front of her, a scroll gripped in one hand. Adaine peers over her shoulder with wide eyes.
Instinctively Kalina bares her teeth in a hiss. Adaine’s hand jerks to her sword, but she doesn’t make a move.
“Hi,” Kristen says haltingly, “Kalina? Is it you?”
Kalina stays still, hackles raised, ears twitching warily until she confirms that neither of them seem to be attacking. Slowly, she sits down, chest heaving. Rationality returns to her in trickles.
“What—” She swivels her head to peer at the room. Books, books, books. A wizard’s tower without a doubt. “How did you—” she remembers catching the rage crystal, shards digging into her pads, the crack of bone, darkness. “You should explain to me very quickly what is happening,” she snarls, “because I really do not appreciate this.”
“Kristen cast Find Familiar,” Adaine says, her eyes steely. “And we managed to get you.”
“That’s— that’s ridiculous,” Kalina laughs, a little hysterically. “I’m not your familiar, kid, I belong to no one but my Goddess—”
“—Who is currently dead.” Kristen says abruptly.
Kalina’s fur bristles. “If they were dead,” she growls, “you wouldn’t be able to cast spells now, would you?”
Kristen looks away, her lips drawn into a thin line. “...You’re right.”
There’s a beat of silence where Kalina breathes, smoothing her panic back down. Regardless of what the little Cleric thinks she did, Kalina is alive. She has a form again. She can work with this. Her Goddess is not dead.
She swears it. Her Goddess is not dead.
“Hey,” Kristen says, dismay replaced by sudden curiosity. “Since you’re my familiar, do you think I can give you orders?”
Kalina physically recoils at the thought. “Oh, don’t even think about it, Kristen. I only take orders from m—”
Kristen grins and says, half-jokingly, “Stop talking.”
The magic that she is, by nature, entirely composed of and dependent on suddenly makes itself very very known. Kalina’s jaw snaps shut.
For a long moment, they all stare in stunned silence.
Kalina thinks if she had hands, she would be strangling someone right now.
—
“So we think that because Cassandra is currently unable to be reached by most magic, the link that made you her familiar transferred automatically to her primary follower.” Riz shuffles the papers on the coffee table. “Which is Kristen.”
His gaze flicks quickly up to Kalina, and then away again. Her tail tip twitches with a flash of satisfaction. She smiles. “Why so nervous? I don’t bite. Anymore, anyway.”
“You know that’s bullshit,” Kristen says, folding her arms. Kalina lets the smile slip from her face.
“The way someone treats you and your little friends is, sometimes, actually not how they also treat the rest of the world. Just something to keep in mind.”
“Can you stop fighting with us for one second?” Riz snaps, fear seemingly forgotten in his frustration, “we have the same freaking goal. Just chill out.”
Kalina sits back on her haunches and gives her chest fur a leisurely lick. ‘Stop fighting’ had been Cassandra’s last order— request— of her, also, she realizes. And now that she’s gone…it’s the last thing she has of them. Of being theirs.
Kalina sniffs, trying not to feel too much about it. It’s just like Cassandra to give her the only order she can’t follow before leaving her all kinds of these emotions and sentiments.
“Fine,” Kalina sighs. “I’m sorry.” The words are awkward on her tongue. A wave of cognitive dissonance settles over her like a film of cold water, making her fur stand on end. Everything about this feels wrong.
Riz frowns. His gaze is sharp and clear, so much like Pok’s that Kalina wants to claw his eyes out. She lifts one paw and starts casually grooming herself, heartbeat pounding in her ears for no clear reason.
—
Kalina still can’t offer them any more clues than she had in Baron’s mansion. They pace and curse and prod but she simply cannot. What’s a cat to do against divine law? She slips away while they’re busy arguing and leaps onto the kitchen counter, relishing the afternoon sunlight.
Kristen had considered ordering her to say more, but Kalina shut that down with a glare and a flash of claws. Being ordered around by Kristen sends chills down her spine every time. It feels like it's someone else that moves, that speaks, that dances (a low point in her many many centuries of existence, to be quite honest). Everything has felt disjointed these past few days, and being around any of Kristen’s group seems to make it worse.
The door opens with a creak behind her. Kalina’s gaze snaps towards it.
Sandra Lynn pauses in the doorway, catching Kalina’s eyes for a second before breaking away and walking past her into the kitchen.
Kalina frowns, mildly offended. She should be nervous, like the kids are. The big bad of their sophomore year is sitting on the counter and staring her down, after all. That just isn’t right.
“What are you doing?” She meows innocently.
Sandra Lynn closes the refrigerator, holding a bottle of lemonade. “Getting the kids some drinks. They’ll be at it all afternoon, I bet.”
“Mm,” Kalina hums in understanding, “hard workers, aren’t they.”
That earns her a look, which Kalina takes with gratification. “They are,” Sanda Lynn says, turning to pull a stack of plastic cups from the cupboard. “They always have been.”
Kalina scoffs. “Oh I don’t know about that, now. I saw that night in Leviathan.”
Sandra Lynn stiffens, much to Kalina’s satisfaction. “I know,” she says flatly. “We know how your disease worked.” She sets the cups and starts pouring. Kalina watches her, amused by the attempt at nonchalance.
“Do you still have your human form?” Sandra Lynn asks abruptly. Kalina blinks, caught off guard.
“...I don’t know why I wouldn’t,” she says.
“Good.” Sandra Lynn sets the lemonade down. “You can help me carry these back.”
Kalina curls her lip in disdain. “No need. You have trays.” Her expression slides smoothly into a grin. “And you said you knew how my little disease worked. Are you sure about this ask, hon?”
“Yeah.” Sandra Lynn flexes her hands, visibly steeling herself before turning around, eyes fiery. “I am. If you’re living in this house, you’re going to participate.”
Kalina flicks her tail, considers laughing and refusing, and then remembers again Cassandra’s soft and hopeful ‘swear it, for me?’
She growls lowly. Her Goddess wishes it. And to save her Goddess, she needs that little Cleric and her friends. Which means antagonizing them is in no way to her benefit, despite the overwhelming urge to do so. Reluctantly, holding onto the memory of Cassandra’s hand in her fur, she stands up and hops to the ground.
Kalina lands on two feet, one palm to the floor, ears pressed against the sides of her head. She glances up at Sandra Lynn, finding it more difficult than she expected to meet her eyes. Nervous. Why in the stars…
Sandra Lynn’s eyes sweep over her once, appraising, and then without fanfare, holds out a cup of lemonade. “Alright. Let’s get to it.”
Kalina hasn’t fallen since her first disastrous summoning in Adaine’s room, but as she trails Fig’s mother into the living room carrying two glasses of lemonade in her hands, she feels distinctly, unsettlingly, unbalanced.
—
“Do familiars always reflect their summoner?”
Kalina yawns from where she’s curled up on the carpet. “You tell me. Do I look anything like Kristen to you?”
Adaine frowns, resting her chin on the back of her chair. “No, but Kristen isn’t your summoner. You’re Cassandra’s.”
“Oh, you noticed, how sweet,” Kalina drawls.
Gorgug glances up from his place across from her on the floor. “Be nice,” he chides. Then he goes back to the work in his lap. Kalina bares her teeth at him, but reluctantly accepts the reminder. For Cassandra.
“I was just asking because you were different under the Nightmare King.” Adaine says.
“Cassandra did that,” Kalina says dismissively, “not the Nightmare King.”
Adaine narrows her eyes. “I don’t think I understand.”
“Why would you?” Kalina says, then she clears her throat, catching herself too late. “It was deliberate. She was making a choice to save us and preserve herself at the same time.”
“Did you get a choice?” Gorgug says.
Kalina rolls her eyes. Oh great, two weeks of living in the same general vicinity and now the kids think she didn’t have control over her actions for the last eight centuries. “Of course. Unlike the rest of the creatures gathered in Sylvaire that night, she cared about who and what I wanted to be.” She raises an eyebrow at Adaine. “Seems like you have a similarly bad history with that. Sylvaire’s got a bad track record, hm?”
“Be nice,” Gorgug warns her again.
“So, yes,” Kalina continues. “I did. And I chose her over being scattered to the void for eternity. Unsurprisingly.”
“Hm,” Adaine says.
Kalina flicks her tail, feeling a little bothered by the lack of reaction. “If you were hoping I was a victim, sorry to disappoint you.”
“Do you still hate us?” Adaine asks suddenly. Kalina barks (ha) out a laugh.
“Don’t get cocky, kid, it’s not a good look on you. I didn’t care enough about you to hate you. I had a mission that you were threatening, that's all.”
“You keep not lying,” Adaine murmurs.
Gorgug speaks up before Kalina can even begin to wonder what that meant. “We have the same mission now, and you’re still being mean. I don’t think that logic is going to hold up.”
Kalina opens her mouth to respond, then closes it.
It doesn’t, of course. It hasn’t ever since she disincorporated herself to save them and tumbled onto this house’s godforsaken carpet. It has been failing to hold up for weeks now and she knows that but has been deliberately ignoring it. Because Kalina doesn’t have any other explanation for why walking into the living room with lemonade made it feel like she was watching herself from third person or why it's hard to bite her tongue even when the Bad Kids are her only hope of saving her Goddess.
It's easier to just do what feels right. Antagonize the kids, lurk in the shadows, intimidate and scare. She’s never had a problem with it before, because Cassandra has always been what’s felt right. Cassandra happy, Cassandra living.
It was her north star during the Nightmare King. Kalina doesn’t have the words to describe how suddenly terrifying it is that it’s gone.
—
“I know I’m usually really stoic and composed and hard to read,” Fig says through a mouthful of ice cream (“You’re not,” Fabian mumbles), “but sometimes when I Disguise Self for a really long time or go on tour I get into such a zone that I forget that I’m acting. It’s like, there are rules that the me on tour or the disguised person are following and when I go back to me I sometimes keep following them because I got used to it. Like Wanda Childa can only let go of her hands when she’s tucking hair behind her ear or rubbing her arms because she’s cold. Fig can let go of her hands whenever—” she flips a rock & roll sign at Kalina just to prove it “—but I sometimes catch myself thinking ‘oops! Can’t let go of my hands’ because I get so deep in.”
Kalina fixes her with a deadpan stare. “I didn’t hear any of that, kid.”
Fig shakes her head. “I’m very insightful, you know. Your loss.” She jabs her spoon back into the ice cream. “I still haven’t forgiven you for kidnapping me and Riz. By the way.”
“Congratulations,” Kalina says mildly. “It was never asked of you.”
“Yeah,” Fig says, “but then I think about you being in Wanda Childa mode for too long and then I feel kind of bad about it.”
Kalina sighs. “It’s cute when you talk nonsense, kid, but what was it that you really wanted to talk to me about?”
Fig points the ice cream spoon at her accusingly. “You only know how to do Wanda Childa now, dude. You gotta relearn Fig Mode.”
“I don’t—”
“Fine, I’ll dumb it down,” Fig says, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been a disease for eighty billion years or something, right? Well you’re a cat now. And we’re allies. Which is blowing your little disease brain because it still thinks we’re here to stop the Nightmare King, which is why it keeps yelling at you to yell at us.”
Kalina closes her eyes and sits back on her haunches, taking a deep breath in through her nose as she digests this theory. “You should consider,” she says at last, “giving your advice in ways that make sense. And don’t make you sound like a madman.”
“But I’m right,” Fig says smugly.
“But,” Kalina admits through gritted teeth, “you may be right.”
—
Kalina ducks out of the way, slides under Fabian’s legs, and slams the hilt of her dagger into the back of his knee. When Fabian goes down with a yelp, she surges up from under him and catches him in a chokehold, dagger to throat. Without thinking, she leans down to bite him. It transmits through saliva too, after all.
She freezes just as her canines meet his neck.
“Uh,” Fabian says, in a tone of voice that suggests several things at once. Kalina wrinkles her nose, shoves him away, and tries to shake the chills of familiarity from her spine.
“Sorry,” she says, feigning nonchalance as she sheathes her dagger. “Got carried away.”
Fabian stumbles to his feet and dusts himself off, breathing hard. “Er, yeah. No harm done. You win this one.” He flashes a thumbs-up at Jawbone, who is watching from the edge of the field. His hand ghosts over that part of his neck and he looks up at Kalina, half wary half— well. She raises an eyebrow.
“Kinda hot,” Fabian mutters, only a slight flush coloring his ears. Shameless kid.
“Yeah?” Kalina says, amused. She’s a thousand year old cat familiar. “Bill Seacaster’s son likes dominance play, shocker.”
Fabian waves her off, a mixture of flustered and indignant. “That’s— what? No. It’s just— no, no. Whatever. Round four?”
Shameless and bold. Kalina runs her tongue over her teeth and crouches in preparation. Maybe she really will bite him this time. On purpose. Just for fun.
The fourth match is a little shorter than the third, Fabian clearly tiring. It’s a long way from Leviathan, though, Kalina catches herself musing. Impressive. As they’re catching their breath, Jawbone jogs over and waves.
“Great work, both of you,” he says, “with how fluid you were, Fabian, I almost thought there were two cats on the field.” He chuckles. “Let’s head in before it gets cold, yeah? Clean up and have a nice dinner?
He throws a towel at Fabian, who squawks as it hits him. Kalina folds her arms and inspects her claws for dirt. “Yeah. Thanks for letting us use the backyard, Jawbone,” Fabian says.
“No problem, kiddo,” Jawbone ruffles his hair and ushers him indoors. “Go grab a bite and a drink.” He reaches towards Kalina next, and Kalina stiffens, ears flattening.
“And thanks for keepin’ him company sparring,” Jawbone says with a smile. He offers her a handshake. “I’m glad you’ve been coming around.”
Kalina eyes the appendage. Wolf, dog, it's all the same to her. She stays far, far away from them both, unless it means getting between them and her Goddess.
Slowly, reluctantly, and so, so lightly, she takes his hand and shakes it once. “Yeah.” She says stiffly. To be honest, she doesn’t remember why she agreed. Probably because it sounded like fun to have an excuse to beat up one of the kids again, like her instincts keep telling her she should.
“I know it must’ve been hard to come back to semi-normal reality after living in incorporeal survival mode for so long,” Jawbone continues. “I just wanted to make sure you know that me and the kids and Sanda Lynn recognize your effort and really appreciate it. It’s been great to have you around.”
“What?” Kalina says blankly, too stunned to even pull her hand away.
Jawbone’s smile doesn’t falter. “Your whole purpose was to keep the Nightmare King alive until you could revive her, right? You’re her familiar, you must love her dearly. That kind of struggle can be all-consuming even for those of us that aren’t runnin’ it for hundreds of years. You’ve been making great progress, you don’t have to be one of my kids for me to be proud of you.”
Kalina opens her mouth and finds no words. Progress? What progress has she been making? Certainly not towards saving Cassandra, which means no progress worth mentioning. She still wants to hiss whenever one of the kids interacts with her. She still tries to bite hands that dangle over chairs and unsuspecting ankles because she can’t shake the feeling that’s what she’s supposed to be doing. She gets vertigo whenever someone tries to touch her.
“I agreed to it.” Is what comes out. “Of course I love her.”
Jawbone squeezes her hand. “I know. But it’s not just you that does anymore. She has all of us. And you do too, even if you don't think so.”
Kalina finally pulls her hand away. “A…a lot of big words coming from you tonight, werewolf. Who knows,” she grins with a touch of mania, “maybe I’ll slit someone’s throat in their sleep just for fun, because I keep getting the urge to do that. What do you think?”
“I think,” Jawbone says calmly, “you could’ve done that since the very first day. And you haven’t.”
—
“Ready?” Kristen says.
Kalina lowers herself slowly to her knees on the soft rainbow rug in Kristen’s room, inexplicably nervous, despite having had more conversations with Cassandra than anyone else alive. Some part of her yowls that this is much too casual and not at all reverent enough for a Cleric’s communion with her Goddess, but the rest simply aches to see her one more time. “Yes.”
Kristen sets the glowing twilight shards in between them. The purple flashes with the contrasting orange evening light and seems to ripple on the rug before them.
Kristen presses her hands together in prayer and bows her head. Kalina follows her lead, trying to keep her tail from twitching.
“Dear Cassandra,” Kristen starts. “I don’t know how you’re supposed to begin these so I’m doing what we did for Helio, sorry. P-R-A-Y…er. You’re always so kind and patient with me, I could never do that. I got mad at that dog girl literally right away and now we’re running against each other— you probably would’ve backed me up though. R..R for repent. Oh easy. I’m sorry I didn’t help you when you asked me for help, it was real shitty of me that I left you— you two, to deal with everyone on your own. I miss you and hope you’ll forgive me and I swear I’ll make it up to you however I can. I don’t remember what A or Y stands for, so I’m going to assume it’s YAthmag and call it here, amen.”
Kalina breaths in from her nose, out from her mouth. “Wow,” she says. “No wonder your deities never stick around.”
“Hey,” Kristen protests, “sometimes it works. If I doubt myself enough.”
Kalina shakes her head even though Kristen can’t see it. “Just sit quietly for a few minutes and let the power of the endless unknown night fill your mind. Okay? Okay.”
Hey, Cassandra, Kalina thinks, tuning out Kristen’s grumbling. I…miss you. I’ve never had to do this before. I’ve always been with you. There’s no need for praying then.
I’m trying to remember what I was before the Nightmare King. Because apparently, that’s something I forgot. You told me to play nice with those kids, I did my best, like I swore I would. They’re a mess, especially your Cleric. I can’t imagine getting anywhere with this team, so I hope you’re comfortable where you are.
Wait for me. Wait for us.
Kalina and Kristen open their eyes at the same time. As their gazes meet, a gust of cool evening breeze blows through the window, and Kalina could almost swear it scratches her behind the ears.