The Spell of Rosette by Kim Falconer Page A

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    ‘Wouldn’t you be? Here he is, by the fire, being looked after and loved, where a short time ago he was about to be torn apart by scavengers. He may be young, but these creatures are very intelligent. I think he knows he’s got plenty to be happy about.’
    Rosette smiled, stroking him again. She was lost in the vibration of his purr for some time before she looked up. ‘What do you mean, “these creatures”?’
    ‘Dumarkian temple cats.’
    Rosette’s mouth opened, but no words came out for several seconds. When they did, they were a mere whisper. ‘He’s a temple cat? Of the ancient line? Familiars to the High Priestesses? The offspring of Basta?’
    ‘It appears so.’
    ‘I thought they had all left when the temple was abandoned?’
    ‘Apparently not all.’ Nell washed her hands in a basin, wrung out a sponge and handed it to Rosette. ‘Clean him up properly. They can’t stand a hair out of place, even the younglings.’
    ‘But, Nell, what does it mean? Are we…are we really linked, thought to thought?’
    ‘Maybe not the words, not yet, but he’ll learn fast. Talk to him with your mind. You can learn his language too, though it’s not an easy one.’
    Nell touched Rosette’s left forearm where she had received the tattoo of the guardian feline, Basta, months before. ‘You’ve got yourself a familiar, Rosette. A bondwith a Dumarkian temple cat is an eternal one, something to cherish and revere, forever.’
    Rosette welled up again. She sent thoughts of love and safety and warmth to the little feline, and his purring increased. She sponged him clean and offered a bowl of milk. He lapped at it eagerly, white splatters flecking his whiskers.
    ‘Help me set the fracture. He’s going to be one big animal when he grows up and we want to make sure he has four strong limbs,’ Nell said, her brow creasing.
    ‘Is the break that bad?’
    ‘It’s greenstick. It’ll heal fine.’
    ‘What, then?’
    ‘It’s going to be hard to keep you anonymous with this one in tow. You’ll turn every head, if you didn’t already.’
    ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Rosette said. ‘What will I do?’
    ‘Don’t worry. We’ll work it out.’
    Through that night and for the next six weeks, Rosette rocked, carried, fed and cradled the young feline. They called him Baby Cat for a few days until she understood that his name was Drayco. Nell was surprised. The Drayconians were primordial creatures, thought to be from another world. They looked like black winged dragons and their auras were filled with a very old magic. The Drayconians had ruled over beginnings and endings and fateful encounters. They were placed in the star charts as the dragon’s head and tail, the north and south lunar nodes—indicators of great portent.
    ‘I never thought an eclipse on my nodes would bring such a thing.’
    Nell chuckled. ‘Star charts aren’t about making things happen. You do that yourself. They are about authenticity and timing, the transits coinciding with events, inner and outer.’
    ‘I get that now,’ Rosette said, grooming her familiar with a soft brush. His purring filled the cottage.
    Drayco grew fast, his orange eyes bright, all four legs sound. He learned her language quicker than she learned his, though she persevered with the strange vowels and consonants that formed his speech. With their minds linked, Rosette was filled with awe. Few humans shared the thoughts of a Dumarkian temple cat, now that the order had vanished. The remaining survivors were fiercely independent, most rejecting human contact and forming family structures with only their own kind.
    She and Nell couldn’t figure out how he ended up alone and vulnerable that day. And no matter how many times she went over the events with Drayco, he couldn’t remember what had happened to his blood family. Rosette didn’t know why she had been blessed to be there at the exact moment he’d needed her, but she thanked the goddess of the woods every