Kitty's Keeper/No Clean Blades

XI

The music stopped, and their eyes opened. They were now slumped in the chaise, Bedrock of Faith spread over their lap, mouth foul and lousy with crusts of drool. For the first time in ages, they felt whole.

The dream was over. They were free!

They turned to the chair next to them. It stood empty. They turned back to face the bookshelves before them, and John appeared, a fatherly smile on his face. "Kitten..."

Oh, he was especially proud of himself this day. Kitty kept their gaze cool and even. "John."

"How didst thou sleep, dear, sweet Kitten?"

Kitty did not waver in the face of John's purring. "So soundly I forgot I was asleep at all."

John held out a hand and a cloud of green aura lifted the book from their chest. "Good, good."

The human straightened, wiping their mouth clean. "Pray, how long was I asleep?"

"About three-quarters of an hour."

Kitty wrinkled their brow. "Three-quarters?"

"Chamaemelum is not a sleeping potion, it is a relaxation aid. Even if you drink too much, you'll never sleep for long."

"And letting me drink a cup and a half was the best way to demonstrate that merit?"

John wagged a finger at them. "I told you not to be sour if you drifted off."

They snorted. "Yeah, but you didn't wake me either."

"Why would I? You were at peace."

"My mind a lump of clay for you to twist to your whim," they retorted.

"You believe George doesn't do the same? Come now, love, you can't be that naive."

"George is benevolent, subtle. I welcome his touch."

John wiggled his eyebrows.

Kitty frowned. "You know what I meant."

John chuckled. "I do, but it's just so easy to get under your skin." He waved his hand and a walkway lined with bookshelves appeared in the corner of the enclave. "Come 'ead. You can resume reading in the main part of the chamber."

Carum cocked their head at the path. "No spinning around this time?"

"Spinning is for quick trips. I wish to savor this walk."

Carum stood. "Yes, John."

The first half of the walk was silent. The pair proceeded side by side, but while John kept his gaze straight, Carum marveled at the shelves, unwaveringly full of books. When John said their name, they jolted, spooked by the sudden sound.

"What a...delightful imagination you have."

Carum glanced at him, confused. "I, John?"

He nodded. "Yes. You're right—I did twist your dream to my whim, but I took my cues from your thoughts. You give my darlings such fitting voices, and your inner world is quite green for a seafarer."

"Remember, I used to fish in nearby ponds in my spare time."

"I assumed that was because you felt a need to stay near water, but you have such an appreciation for forestland." He rubbed his chin. "And then, of course, there are your perceptions of us..."

Kitty began to sweat. "I—"

"One mustn't apologize for their innermost thoughts, Kitty. You can't help those. Besides, they come out in your emotions regardless, so it's nothing I don't already know." Silence passed between them as John gathered more of his thoughts. "George is so gracious, so perfect in your mind's eye. His image was always vivid and flattering."

Kitty brightened. "Naturally. George is most kind. He preoccupies much of my thoughts."

John chuckled. "And I can be quite a tyrant, eh?"

"Well, at least I know it's for a good reason." They looked up at him critically. "Right?"

John nodded once more, but with a smirk. "Right. And Paul remains a guardian."

"Yes. Part of me is convinced he once trained to become a knight."

"It does appear that way, doesn't it?"

"Has he?"

"Only Paul can answer that."

More silence. John's comments had come to an abrupt end. Kitty took that as an opportunity to voice their own. "Did you have to jostle me around like that?"

"Have to? No. Want to? Yes."

"I was ready to retch on at least three separate occasions."

"Not on my watch. Not on my chaise lounge."

"As if you could control that."

"I can and I did. I'm an experienced dreamwalker, love. I know exactly how much to give and take. My aim is the balance only chaos can give, lest it trips the scales into madness and overwhelm us both. Only there lies ruin, the great unraveling. 'It's all too much,' as George would say."

Kitty knitted their brow. "George has never said that."

"He will."

"But how....?" Kitty's eyes widened. "Are you an oracle, John? Can you tell the future?"

"I can see glimpses of it when I take older forms. Nothing too vivid, it's mostly song lyrics and disjointed melodies than memories. A kaleidoscope view through kaleidoscope eyes."

Kitty was amazed. "Have you told anyone this?"

"Besides you, Kitten? No one."

"Why? It seems Paul would delight in such insight, at the very least."

"You'd think so, but in truth Paul despises seers and the like. 'Greed-driven, blaspheming charlatans that spoil the punchlines of Fortune's infinite jest,' he says."

"Oh, my."

"Yes, a rather harsh stance from someone rather easygoing. Strangest thing, really. Paul used to love fortune tellers."