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suit our purposes.”
    “And what are our purposes?”
    “I was thinking it is time that someone throws a coup over that despot of an ogre squatting in Carabas,” Puss said.
    Gabrielle halted so swiftly she almost dislodged Puss from her shoulders. “You’re mad. No!”
    “Why not? You wanted adventure.”
    “Yes, but I want to live through my adventures!”
    “But there is no greater adventure than saving a land and its inhabitants.”
    “No, no, no. Before we go any farther, I must make something clear,” Gabrielle said. She pulled the magical cat from her shoulders and considered holding him, but he was quite hefty even though he was sleek-looking, so instead she put him down on the ground. “I want adventures, but in no way do I want to be a hero,” Gabrielle said.
    Puss tilted his head and curled his black tail around his white paws. “Truly? You are not like one of those demented blacksmith’s apprentices or such who dream about going off and saving people?”
    “You asked me something similar earlier, and I said no then. My answer hasn’t changed.”
    “Why? I thought all pubescent humans dreamed of becoming heroes with songs sung about them.”
    “For many reasons.”
    “Name one.”
    “I’ll do better; I will give you two. First of all, I have already had my fair share of attention, and I have hated it.”
    “Ahhhh,” the cat said, standing and thrusting his tail in the air so it formed a black question mark. “I had not reckoned with that. Very well, I will grudgingly admit you have a point there—although heroes are treated with more reverence than a beauty. Your second reason?”
    “I don’t like many people.”
    “You are so stone-hearted that you would not aid your fellow man?”
    Gabrielle shrugged. “I never claimed a good heart came with the curse of beauty. But, and you will not distract me from this point, we will not be freeing Carabas.”
    Puss started washing his paws.
    “Are you listening, Puss?” Gabrielle asked.
    “It is Roland Archibald Whisperpaws the Fifth, and if you do not wish to free Carabas, we will not free it,” he said. His voice was suspiciously guileless and innocent.
    “I mean it.”
    “And I agree,” Puss said, turning to walk in the direction of Wied.
    Unconvinced, Gabrielle followed behind him. “Besides, Carabas won’t be ruled by that ogre much longer. When Prince Rune the heroic grows experienced enough, he will be dispatched to address the ogre. It will only be a few more years until he’ll risk it.”
    “While I’m sure this prince is very heroic and all, the ogre has held Carabas for nearly two generations. If he could not be dislodged from Carabas when magic was allowed in Arcainia, I doubt one prince—heroic or not—will win against him.”
    Gabrielle glared at the magic cat’s black behind as they passed through a scraggy excuse of a forest. “If that is so, what possessed you to think that we might be able to take it on?”
    “I am certain when I say no one who approached the ogre has had my superior intelligence.”
    Gabrielle rolled her eyes to the sky and shook her head. “Right,” she said. She was preparing to make an obnoxious observation when two men slipped out of the trees and stepped into the road, blocking the way. She swung around, but behind her were two more men, caging her in. Their clothes were tattered, their faces smeared with dirt, and they smiled—an animalistic sneer that stiffened her spine.
    “Oh look, it’s some of the debonair highwaymen you were referring to earlier,” Puss snorted. His sophisticated voice was colored with scorn and held no trace of fear.
    “Shhh,” Gabrielle shushed as she edged towards the forest. She stopped moving when the bandit pairs separated, so she was surrounded on all sides. This was why she had never ventured from Ilz on her own. It was too dangerous. While she could nearly hold her own against a high-handed village boy, she was no match for hardened bandits.
    “A