Princess the Cat Liberates Paris: Princess the Cat, #4

1

The cool night air flows past my sleek, gray tabby body as I race away from the den of coyotes.

I can’t believe what I just saw, I think to myself. Rats allied with coyotes!

But first I need to get out of here alive. The yapping and yipping from the pursuing coyotes grows closer. This is their home, the Wilderness. Leaping from boulder to boulder and among the dried out wild grass, I flee to my escape route.

I burst out of a group of boulders and pass through a clearing.

I think I’ll make it.

But one final foe blocks my path.

The rattlesnake waits coiled at the edge of the canyon. Once I reach the canyon, I’ll be free. But a bite from a rattlesnake? Not even my royal blood could survive that.

I have no choice but to veer off to the right. This is not the first time I’ve run from coyotes. If I can outrun Snarl, I know I can outrun Buck and his gang. But Buck is desperate to be rid of me.

The rattlesnake spots me and releases her spine-tingling rattle as she uncoils. I hope my change in direction doesn’t ruin my escape plan. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

Thankfully, the snake is slowed because of the cool night. That inferior cold-blooded reptile is sluggish. But that doesn’t affect the coyotes that come crashing out of the boulders and spot me veering away.

The snake closes down the angle for me to reach the canyon. Looking back, I see Buck bearing down on me with a pack of coyotes behind him. I regret allowing this once bumbling coyote to mature and become a dangerous foe.

I may just have that extra centimeter I need to reach the canyon.

I make my move and dart directly towards the canyon edge. I look up into the night sky and spot the white-yellow moon glowing down on this chase taking place in the Wilderness, beyond the border of my domain.

I pray to feline gods as I approach the canyon’s edge.

The rattlesnake extends its head, attempting to strike my hind leg. I feel the air rush by as her attack misses by a whisker. My hind leg, previously injured from Snarl the coyote, burns with pain. But I’m almost to the canyon edge—

It comes sooner than I expect, and I have no choice.

I leap into the night sky. Air is beneath me. I look down to see the river winding along the canyon floor as the moon casts its all-knowing glow on its course.

As mighty as my leap was, even I must bow to the power of gravity. No cat, or any other beast, can survive this fall.

If I don’t survive, I have no heir to continue my dynasty, I realize, suspended in mid-air.

It may be my last thought.

Just as I start to plunge to the depths below, the sharp talons of my friend, Moonbeam the owl, grasp me.

Moonbeam’s stealth allowed him to circle above the Wilderness undetected. I wasn’t sure if Moonbeam was in the right place to catch me.

I hold my breath and risk a look down.

The dark outline of the rattlesnake plunges below me into the canyon.

I’ll get you, cat! the rattlesnake yells as she disappears into the bowels of the canyon. After falling for a few seconds, the rattlesnake would be dashed upon the river boulders, and then the river would wash her away. Her days are over.

You veered off course, ma’am, Moonbeam says with the slightest irritation.

I didn’t count on the rattlesnake, I say.

I also didn’t expect to see a rat meeting with Buck the Coyote, I think to myself. But I knew you would adjust for my improvised escape route.

Lucky for you, Moonbeam says coolly as he lifts me higher into the night sky. You’re flying first-class now!

We fly over the Wilderness, and I spot the pack of coyotes below, searching along the edge of the cliff.

As Buck disappears into the distance, he releases a howl. He must think I’m dead.

Was your mission a success? Moonbeam asks as houses begin to appear under us. It won’t be long until we reach my neighborhood. Although the talons are uncomfortable after a few seconds of flight, traveling with the aid of an owl is the fastest and safest way to travel. Moonbeam only does it when necessary. I saved his family’s lives, but they only begrudgingly offer their services as an air force in support of my kingdom.

I’m not yet sure if it was a success, I add. Don’t tell the other cats, but I saw a rat. I will summon a Cat Council upon my return. I will have much to ponder later while basking in a sunbeam.

Why would Buck and the coyotes be meeting with an important rat?

The rat even wore a necklace. I have only heard of such vile creatures. The rat was smaller than a cat, had a snaky tail, giant yellowed teeth that looked like they could gnaw through metal, and dark, beady eyes that nearly glowed crimson.

I will announce the Cat Council after we land, Moonbeam replies obediently. Do I sense apprehension?

No, I say, justifying the white lie to myself. This night was my first rat sighting. But I do know one thing about rats: there is never just one.

2

Iponder the night’s events as I wander through the cat door into my garage to rest until the Cat Council meeting.

Max, the younger and orange cat my humans brought into my house a while ago, lies in my favorite spot on top of a car, so I give him a low growl. He moves without protest.

Was your mission successful? I ask Max as he passes.

Max hesitates, and his eyes dilate slightly.

What… mission? Max stutters. I grit my teeth, ready to scold Max for yet another example of his foolishness. But Max cuts me short.

I’m just kidding, Max says. Yeah, the mission went fine.

Good. Now we need to get some rest. There is a Cat Council meeting this afternoon.

The whole Cat Council? Max replies with a little bit too much sarcasm.

Yes. The whole Cat Council, I affirm.

Max saunters off, and I take my perch on top of the car. I later move indoors when the big man person comes out to drive away to work at 5am sharp. I lay on a couch opposite the piano in the living room and sleep until the house is quiet. Once the children leave for school, the big woman person does something unusual.

I notice that the wall above the piano is bare. The big woman person carries in a framed painting and hangs it above the piano. She steps back, but she doesn’t approve. She adjusts the painting, but she’s still not content. She leans the painting against the piano bench on the ground, unable to hang it to her liking.

I’m no art expert, but even I think the new painting is more beautiful than the previous one. It will be soothing once it is hung. Next to it is the oldest girl child’s suitcase, and it’s packed. A bright pink bow is tied to the handle, probably to ensure it isn’t mistaken for somebody else’s black suitcase.

Not a bad idea, for a human, I think as sleep overwhelms me.

I drift back to sleep, dreaming of calm streams in which water lilies float, but also an invisible threat. I’m not sure how I know it in my dream, but I somehow sense the threat is rats. But there’s more going on than just rats. If I had died last night, I would have left my throne without an heir. I must find an heir to continue my dynasty. In that way, I will live beyond nine lives.

Hours later, the children returning home from school wake me, and I realize it’s time for the Cat Council meeting. Everybody had better be there.

We’ve got a lot to cover in today’s Cat Council meeting, I declare once the others recite the Pledge of Allegiance to Princess the Cat. Max and Tweedledee sit patiently, waiting for me to continue. Max’s orange fur is puffy as he tries hard to ignore the butterfly fluttering nearby. Tweedledee gazes at the blossoms on the lilac bush under which we hold the Cat Council meeting. Her chest heaves from exertion. She barely made it to the Cat Council meeting in time. Then her eyes begin to dart around.

What’s gotten into you? I ask Tweedledee. Your perfectly white coat seems not so gleaming.

I just spent the night in Animal Control, Tweedledee reports with shame. So I wasn’t able to complete my mission.

But you were simply patrolling my neighborhood while Max and I were in the Wilderness, I say. Animal Control shouldn’t have captured you.

But they did, Tweedledee says, obviously hurt by her wrongful capture.

The Animal Control has become overzealous, I observe. And I think I know why. But at least you made it here. It’s not your fault. You’re a victim. You shouldn’t feel ashamed.

Thank you, Princess, Tweedledee says with a slight bow of her head.

Before I start the business portion of the Cat Council meeting, there’s something else bothering me.

Where is Gramma? I demand. Now that Tweedledum has run off for love, and we lost Fluffy, may he rest in peace, all cats must be present for the Cat Council. I fear the other cats are rightly figuring out that the Cat Council is a formality; I’m the only one with power.

Both Max and Tweedledee’s eyes are locked on mine, but they look away when my eyes bore into theirs. Tweedledee dares to answer.

Um, well, Tweedledee says nervously as her white tail twitches in the dirt, Gramma told me she was planning on being busy.

I’m about to berate Max and Tweedledee and remind them what an honor it is to be on the Cat Council, but a high-pitched noise wrecks my concentration.

What is that racket? I ask.

It’s the oldest girl child playing her flute, Max says.

But why?

She’s practicing, Max explains.

What? She never practices.

"But remember, she and the big man person are going on a