Everyone's a Catgirl! Ch. 345: Point of View (Patreon)

Teima’s gaze remained glued to Tristan the entire time he spoke, veering only when she tended to her pipe. Hazy smoke wafted through the air, causing him to cough periodically. The smell was pungent and dug into his lungs like tiny needles. Tristan wondered if this was Teima’s way of testing his fortitude and willingness to see his plan through.

When Tristan finished relaying his plans to Teima, she tapped the ash out of her pipe onto the saucer and set it down. Then she leaned back, lifting one fold of her robe over her exposed breast, only for it to slide back down. “You men certainly enjoy uprooting everything we build, don’t you? Something of a game to you, I would imagine.”

She was trying to incite him. Bring him to a boil. He wouldn’t allow her that privilege. “San Island will stagnate if nothing is done,” Tristan answered slowly. “My being a man is irrelevant. An intelligent woman like you surely can see that.”

Teima giggled and bit the middle of her pointer finger. “My, aren’t you a charmer? And did you think that very charm would bewitch me? Get me to dance to your tune? You insult me.”

Furrowing his brow, Tristan answered, “I never made any such assumptions. I am here to discuss San Island’s future at Cailu Raloquen’s request.”

“Yes, yes,” she said, waving her hand, “you said that already.”

“I think it would do both our islands a wonderful service if we could find a way to work together,” Destiny said. She sat beside Tristan’s right, her fingers squirming in her lap. “There’s too much animosity between us.”

“Am I supposed to be swayed by that sentiment?”

Destiny frowned.

“The issues of Shi Island are not our own,” Teima said, lolling her head back and glowering at Destiny down her nose. “San Island is flourishing, perhaps in part due to Shi Island’s shortcomings.” Then a wicked smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “If Shi Island struggles so, why do they not simply come to San Island? We provide so much more than your Service, Grace, and Urgency could ever hope to accomplish.”

“You’re evading the issue,” Tristan said firmly. Teima was trying to pin the blame on Shi Island and derail the conversation elsewhere. If she couldn’t anger Tristan, then she would target those beside him next. “Please refrain from insulting my Party members. They’re here at my request. We’re talking about San Island. Shi Island’s issues are not pertinent right now.”

“Aren’t they, though? You want us to ship our own people to your little island, where they can be indoctrinated by your”—her lip curled with disgust—“three pillars?”

“No one ever said that. It was proposed as an alternative to an already declining island.”

Her smile dissolved into disappointment. “Well, aren’t you just a sanctimonious little prat.”

“Such words are unbecoming of a Shulan woman,” Yanni said sharply.

Teima’s glare met Yanni, and the two stared at one another for a time. “Ah, yes, Emberlynn’s pet. How is she, by the way? Does she still require another catgirl to hold her tail while she defecates?”

“Can we please get back to the matter at hand?” Tristan asked. Teima’s personal and cutting words were driving a wedge between them, and whether they knew it or not, both Destiny and Yanni had assisted her. He’d almost considered leaving on the spot, but to do so would not only paint a poor picture of him, but of Cailu, and his entire retinue.

“Allow me to make this very easy for you,” Teima said with a lackadaisical lilt to her tone. She lay on the tatami mats and waved her hand through the air as she spoke. “My answer is no. I see no reason to upend everything that we have built, nor do I see any merit to this ‘plan’ of yours.” She scoffed. “You are Shi Island’s man. If your plan is to work, to have any power or plausibility to it, then I will consider casting my lot in with you and the broken shell of Emberlynn if, and only if, you can bring Cailu Raloquen to my door and he agrees to the same.”

This woman is impossible. Cailu can’t come here. Not now.

“Cailu Raloquen is currently indisposed,” Tristan said carefully.

“Isn’t that convenient? The very man who could enact change sends his messenger instead of coming directly to me.” Then Teima laughed. “Get out of my home.”

Tristan worked his jaw. Destiny and Lara opened their mouths to speak, but with a quick gesture, he silenced them. Since they were both from Shi Island, whatever retorts they had could be used against them. Instead, he looked at Yanni. If there was anything she could say, now was the time to say it.

Yanni’s gaze shot to the floor. A bead of sweat traveled down the side of her head. Her fingers curled and uncurled multiple times before she finally broke the silence. “Miss Teima,” she started.

“What?”

“I have lived on San Island my entire life. I was born and raised here, taken in by Emberlynn when I was at my worst.”

“Spinning me a sad tale, are you?” Teima chuckled.

Yanni faltered, rolled one thumb over the other in her lap, mouthed something to herself, then said, “I struggled every day to make a living in Shulan. I was always pointed away from the restaurants, the market, the homes. I retreated to the alleyways to find whatever I could. If Emberlynn had not found me that day, I am sure that I would be dead by now.”

Tristan had expected Teima to say something, but she remained silent.

“She took me in, showed me what it’s like to be a true San Island catgirl. She renewed my hope and faith in Nyarlea.” She drew a deep breath. “I returned to continue my [Myrmidon] training, and I was displeased to discover that Shulan had somehow become worse than I remembered. These kittens suffer every day, and you do nothing but stand by and watch.”

“Don’t speak about what you do not know,” Teima said as she leaned up onto her elbows. “You live lavishly in an estate and wait on a woman who’s on her deathbed. You know nothing of Shulan, and you would be wise not to make any assumptions about my position.” She flicked her wrist toward the door. “I told you to leave once. Next time I will request the guards.”

Tristan bowed his head and refrained from sighing. “Thank you for your time.” He rose to his feet and brushed the wrinkles from his pants. “It’s unfortunate we couldn’t come to an agreement.”

“Bring Cailu next time. Then we’ll talk.”

Tristan turned around and slid the door open. Blue smoke escaped from the room as he waved Destiny, Lara, and Yanni out first. This gesture raised one of Teima’s brows. As he exited, he gifted her a glare of his own before shutting the door. Only then did he at last release the sigh he’d been holding.

Destiny placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Tristan. It’s not over. Why don’t we speak with Kalaya?”

Tristan nodded sullenly, then stepped away from the door to avoid prying ears. The servants guided them outside the building, where Tristan finally expressed how he felt.

“I don’t see how that’s going to help,” he admitted, “but I also don’t see what other choice we have.” From what Melody had told them, Kalaya was the worse of the two. “I was hoping that it would go better with Yanni in there.”

“I am most sorry, Tristan,” Yanni said, bowing deeply. “I fear that I may have created a rift between you and Miss Teima.”

Tristan shook his head. “No. You did nothing of the sort. She knew her decision before we ever set foot in that room. I think it was still a smart idea for Emberlynn to send you in her place. I don’t think Emberlynn herself could’ve done anything.”

A thin line formed across Yanni’s lips. “With all due respect, Tristan, you and I both know that isn’t true.”

Empty praise would never work on Yanni. He should’ve known better. Yanni spent every day in Emberlynn’s company, so by now she was no doubt aware of Emberlynn’s power. If Emberlynn had been in that room, then maybe something could’ve happened.

“Was that true what you said in there?” Tristan asked.

Yanni shook her head. “It was not. I had hoped to appeal to her emotions,” she replied. “It did not proceed as I had intended. Teima is indeed a heartless woman.”

“I bet she would sell the homeless kittens if it meant making more money,” Lara said, shaking her head. “People like that should stay far away from me. Don’t like them. Nuh-uh.”

Tristan laughed. “Agreed.” He looked up at Teima’s estate, breathed out one last sigh, then turned around and started away. “Let’s see if we can find Kalaya.”

Night had fallen by the time they made it back to Shulan’s central square. At Yanni’s suggestion, they remained in [Combat Mode] while they explored the city for any answers about Kalaya’s whereabouts. Many of the guards they spoke to were obstinate and uncooperative. The mere mention of Kalaya’s name caused many of them to visibly tense and avert their eyes. Whatever Kalaya had done, or was doing, had spooked them enough to avoid saying her name.

“Look, we just want to speak with her,” Tristan said to what had to have been the twelfth guard by now. The woman regarded him with a cold gaze and a firm grip around her spear. He half-wondered if she was going to threaten him with it. The safety and power he’d felt as a man were quickly quashed by nearly every guard he conversed with. “That’s all we want. Can you just tell us where she is? We can handle it from there.”

“No,” the short-haired guard said, shaking her head. “High Captain Kalaya”—there was that term again—“is a very busy woman. She has more important matters to deal with at this time.”

“Is there a time I can speak to her? Maybe schedule an appointment?” Tristan asked, gesturing animatedly with his hands. They’d driven him to the point where he was using his hands more and more, something he did when he was frustrated.

“That’s not up to me.” She pointed her spear toward the road. “Leave.”

Tristan almost mouthed a curse, then thought better of it and nodded. “Very well. Thank you for your time.”

He started down the incline, arriving beside a stall with a blue awning, where a catgirl was selling jewelry. “Well, don’t you look depressed? I have something that could cure what ails you.” She held up a long golden chain with a locket attached to it. Tapping the nail of her pointer finger against it, it popped open to reveal a large emerald within. “Yours for only eight hundred Bells.”

Tristan forced on a smile. The last locket he’d seen had been a cursed object. The memory twisted his stomach. “No thanks.”

“Pshh. Cheapskate.”

“He said no thanks!” Destiny snapped. “Find someone else to bother! We’re not interested in your chintzy jewelry!”

The catgirl reeled back, the locket clutched close to her chest. She muttered something under her breath, but said nothing more to them.

Destiny’s sudden outburst surprised Tristan, but it was not unwelcome. He grabbed her hand and led her away with Lara and Yanni. Slowly, a smile—a real one—crept onto his face. His chest swelled with joy. He glanced at Destiny, walking without knowing where he was going. She returned his smile, her cheeks pink as rose petals. He mouthed a thank you, and Destiny giggled.

“Hey.” The voice stopped him in his tracks, nearly causing Lara and Yanni to run into him and Destiny. A woman leaned against a wall next to an alley, beckoning him closer with a curled finger. “Come here.”

Tristan frowned and looked at his Party for guidance. Yanni gave him a curt nod, then lowered her hand so it rested beneath the hilt of her sword. Lara’s brow tightened, and Destiny let go of his hand, keeping her hands near the bottles at her hip. Tristan’s boots clicked against the stones as he approached. The stench of myana was strong on the catgirl, something he hadn’t been able to sense until more recently. It flowed through the air like little threads of heat and cold, tickling the hairs on his arms. He could practically taste the myana when he stood only a few steps away from her.

“Who are you?” Tristan asked. A sprinkle of rain, barely more than a mist, pelted his coat, momentarily distracting him.

“Doesn’t matter,” the woman said. She wore a brown cloak and kept most of her face hidden with a hood. The cloak was tattered and pocked with holes. Beneath it were a pair of brown shorts and a white shirt that poked through the gap made by the two halves of the fabric. “Do you want to speak with Kalaya?”

This was the first woman who hadn’t used her full title to address her. “I do. Do you know how I can reach her?”

The woman nodded slowly. “Yes,” she whispered. “But you have to keep it between us. You can’t tell a soul about where we’re going or what I am about to tell you. Do you understand?”

Tristan nodded. “Yes.”

“Tristan,” Destiny whispered, “I don’t like this.”

He didn’t either, but they had run out of options. No one had been willing to share anything about the high captain until now. The only other thing he could think of was to visit Melody. Part of him wanted to believe that this was some catgirl surviving on the streets who just happened to know the right people and was willing to share that information.

He was also painfully aware of the possibility that this could be a trap.

“What’s the catch?” Tristan asked.

A knowing smile crept onto the woman’s face. “Four hundred Bells.”

Tristan grimaced and reached into his [Cat Pack]. Four hundred was a lot for a catgirl who was surviving on the streets, but maybe she was smart enough to know the value of information. He plucked four onyx-colored coins and extended them toward her. When the girl tried to take them, he pulled them away.

“Half now, half later,” he said.

The girl clicked her tongue. “Fine.”

“I would also have your name.”

“Barb,” she said after a pause. Then she held out her hand again. Tristan pressed two of the four coins into her palm. “Hee hee! Money!” She clutched the Bells close to her chest, bobbing on the balls of her feet. Tucking them into her pocket, she waved her arm for them to follow, then started down the alley. “Well, come along! I’ll show you where to go.”

Tristan started, but Yanni moved to stand in front of him. “Allow me, Tristan. Stay behind me until it is safe.”

Heat rose to Tristan’s face. Gratitude for Emberlynn swelled in his chest. “Thank you, Yanni.”

She offered him a subtle nod of her head before following the mysterious Barb. Tristan followed Yanni, keeping a few paces of distance between them. Destiny stood beside him while Lara took up the back, constantly turning her head in search of anything suspicious. Barb spent the next few minutes leading them down a series of alleyways and corridors slick with dew from the gentle rain. The wild and hunger-riddled eyes of kittens wrapped in thin sheets and even thinner clothes followed him as they walked.

They reached out with tiny hands, pleading for anything the passing group could give them. Not wanting to fall behind and risk losing Barb, he tried his best to ignore them. It wasn’t until they came across a girl who had a bandage around her eye that he finally stopped.

“Wait,” Tristan said.

Barb stopped on her heel and spun around. “Make it fast.” Her fingers wriggled, and she was constantly craning her head as if something was going to jump out at any moment.

Tristan clenched his jaw and dug into his [Cat Pack]. He gave up the first coin he found, a twenty Bell coin, and placed it in the one-eyed kitten’s hand. “Take that. Buy yourself some food.”

The girl nodded but didn’t smile. “Okay.”

“Are you just about done?” Barb asked.

“Sorry, we’re coming.” Tristan passed the little girl, but Yanni continued to stare. When he opened his mouth to ask why, a chill shot down his spine.

“[Mark for De—]”

The words barely left the little girl’s mouth when Yanni spun around—sword drawn—and lunged. Yanni muttered something, but it was drowned out when her Perception slowed the world’s flow of time. In terrifying slow motion, Tristan watched as Yanni buried her katana between the girl’s ribs. He’d barely drawn breath when the world resumed its normal speed immediately after. Coated in scarlet, Yanni extracted her blade, then in one fluid motion, pivoted to her right and decapitated the girl.

The head fell to the ground with a sickening crunch, the coin slipping free and rolling across the ground with a clink. Kittens scurried away in fright. Yanni turned around, sword held to the side, and glared at Barb.

“You lured us here,” Yanni growled.

Barb drew back one side of her cloak to reveal a golden bell attached to her wrist. “[Ring of To—]!” 

“[Hydro Push!]” Lara cried. Water gathered from the walls and rushed past Tristan like a series of tiny gunshots. They struck Barb with concussive force, lifting her off her feet and slamming her against the wall behind her. “[Summon Water]!” Barb slid down the wall, then shakily rose to her feet. Tristan glanced at her over his shoulder to see a sphere of water hovering around Lara’s head in a circle. Lara held her hands up to the sky, and the ball of water grew to ten times its size. Tristan’s attention turned back to Barb, who had raised her hand. With a wave of her hand, Lara cried, “[Hydro Push]!” 

A torrent of water expanding to over half the available space in the alleyway crashed into Barb with unrelenting force. Barb coughed and wheezed through the blast. Lara’s eyes filled with a fire rarely seen. When Tristan was sure Barb wouldn’t be able to fight back, he motioned for her to stop. Barb was soaked from head to toe, splayed across the stones on her stomach.

Tristan started toward her and Yanni rushed to his side. They walked in tandem, the soles of their shoes clicking against the stone. Barb lazily raised her head. Tristan glared.

“I’m going to ask you again,” Tristan said. “Who are you?”