Between Two Ends by David Ward

hedge there is nowhere else,” she said. “I am confined to the garden and my room. And how would I explain you to Rawiya, my maidservant? But tomorrow night I will send her on an errand. And I will create a distraction for the guards. At midnight. One knock on the door. Be ready! Now, go! Guards are coming.”
    There was nothing to be done. He could nothide from bush to bush in the garden with guards tramping around all night. “Midnight, here!” he repeated. Cursing his luck, he rushed across the paving stones just as the guards came into full view. He shrank from the shadows cast by the spitting torches and hugged the wall. The girl gave a final wave, and Yeats was alone once more to face the Arabian night.

hen the guards left, Yeats headed in the direction of the passage Shari had described to him. A twig snapped behind him. He stopped breathing. What now? What else could be lurking that might be worse than guards? The gray trunks blurred as he swung around. He could hear the breath of a large creature. Seconds later something tickled the back of his neck.
    A savage voice growled in his ear, “Why are you here?” Long whiskers trailed across his cheek and a powerful shoulder jostled him with ease. Two green eyes blinked.
    It was a panther, black as pitch, whose eyes and glimmering teeth alone gave away its shape.
    â€œAnswer.”
    Yeats winced against the blast of its warm breath.
    â€œI’m looking for someone,” he stammered.
    The giant cat sniffed; its wet nose greased Yeats’s chin. Then it swung toward the sound of the retreating guards. Yeats stepped backward and the cat whipped a paw around his leg without turning. When its claws punctured his skin, Yeats screamed.
    Suddenly he was on his back, the giant cat pressed against his chest, forcing all the air out of him.
    â€œAnother sound and I’ll gouge your throat!”
    â€œI won’t,” Yeats wheezed. “I promise.” His leg throbbed: the weight of the cat was unbearable. Its teeth were dangerously close. “Please let me go.”
    â€œYou prefer the company of the pirates?” mocked the panther. “Yes. I saw who brought you here. I would have tracked you faster but that foolish cook shut the inner gate on his way out.”
    The panther proceeded to wash a paw, bobbing its great claws in front of Yeats’s nose.
    â€œAre you going to kill me?”
    The panther stopped and eyed the garden. “I cannot release you,” it said simply. “For it is my position to guard those who live here. And you are an intruder.”
    â€œI didn’t know this was your garden.”
    The cat continued licking itself, roughly scraping its claws across Yeats’s shirt in the process. “This is not my garden.” Its muscles tensed. It was going to bite his throat! Those horrible teeth ripping …
    â€œI’m here for Shaharazad!” he cried desperately.
    The green eyes flared. “Shaharazad?”
    â€œYes.”
    The panther extended a claw, pressing the point into Yeats’s neck.
    â€œPlease don’t kill me,” he gasped. “I’ve got to bring that girl home.”
    The cat gave a low growl. “You’ve as much chance of that as of escaping my claws.”
    â€œWhy?” Yeats asked breathlessly.
    â€œShe’s under a spell. Surely your pirate friends told you.”
    Yeats gawked. “They did. How did you know?”
    â€œBecause,” the giant cat said and rolled off his stomach, “I am a bookend.”
    Gasping, Yeats clutched his throat and sat up. The panther made no move to stop him.
    â€œI happen to be searching for someone myself. A wish gone bad, you might say.” The great creature sighed, a little sadly, Yeats thought, although he did not say so. “I work alone now and at double the effort. I envy your pirates that much.”
    Despite his fear Yeats couldn’t help but appreciate the