“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Struggling, he stood, the unconscious kappa clutched to his chest. He whispered something Cluny couldn’t hear, but power hummed at her whiskers, the door behind the professor clicking and swinging open. “Please,” he said then, his words now just barely audible above the evening breeze, “won’t you come in?”

  Scampering aside so Hesper and Jorvik could precede her, Cluny heard robes shuffling and looked up to see Crocker squatting there. “I hope you’ve got a plan,” he murmured.

  All she could do was shrug, her mind whirling too quickly between anger and confusion to let her think clearly.

  “Terrific.” Crocker held a hand out to her, and she jumped on, scampering up his sleeve and into her pocket while Crocker walked them into Professor Histulari’s house.

  “I apologize,” the professor was saying. “We seldom have visitors, so the room’s in quite a state.”

  To Cluny’s right lay a bare wooden floor, the walls nothing but bookcases, their contents ranging from small, thin volumes at the top to thick tomes on the bottom shelves. Beneath the one window among the bookcases sat a plain, square chair and desk, ink wells carefully stoppered, pens clean and arranged by size in a spotless rack, papers stacked on the writing surface more neatly than Cluny had thought papers could be stacked.

  Crocker kept moving forward, his footsteps suddenly crunching in dirt scattered over the floorboards. The soil got thicker as Cluny glanced to her left, and she almost fell out of her pocket to see a rock grotto filling that whole end of the room. Willowy ferns in every shade of green overhung the blue-black stones, and she watched Professor Histulari carefully settle Esteemed Tadon, his eyes closed and his breathing slow and deep, into the grotto’s little pool. “I can perhaps conjure some more chairs,” the professor said, straightening and brushing at the mud on the knees of his tweed suit. “Or actually, since only Sophomore Crocker has the anatomy to sit—”

  “I’ll be fine, sir,” Crocker said.

  Noting the quiver in the professor’s hands, Cluny gestured to the desk. “Perhaps you’d like to take a seat, professor?” After all, she once more didn’t say out loud, your familiar just kidnapped the dean of the Healing Arts Department and threatened to kill my familiars! You must be exhausted!

  With an effort, Cluny swallowed her anger and watched Professor Histulari smile wanly, moving from the grotto to the brown section of the room. He folded into his desk chair like a collapsing piece of patio furniture, then started forward, his eyes going wide. “Oh! Can I get anyone a refreshment? A cup of tea or a—?”

  Jorvik’s growl caused the professor’s words to choke off, Hesper adding, “My sentiments exactly. In fact, I’m not entirely sure why I’m not calling campus security right now.”

  The professor’s beige face paled, and Cluny leaped from her pocket to scramble down the front of Crocker’s robe. “Please, Lady Hesper!” Jumping over to face the unicorn, she did her best to keep her claws from digging into the polished wood of the floor. “What happened was very upsetting for all of us, but threatening each other isn’t going to help figure out what—!”

  “Help?” a burbling yet raspy voice asked from the other side of the room, and Cluny couldn’t keep her tail from frizzing at the sight of Esteemed Tadon stirring in his pond, one hand scooping water in a desultory fashion to drizzle it down into the indentation on the top of his head. “There’s no help for any of us. Not now. Not after this.”

  Hesper’s mouth went sideways, and she turned narrowed eyes toward the pond. “A little less drama, if you wouldn’t mind, Tadon, and a little more explaining.”

  “Ha!” Esteemed Tadon leveled one of his little fingers at Hesper. “It is from you, Madame, that explanations are required! You who were once a tireless advocate for your fellow familiars are now instead embracing wholeheartedly a human role and a human title, neither of which you can or should be allowed to hold! And this...this...this monstrosity!” He raised his finger a bit further to point at Jorvik. “For a familiar to have a familiar is beyond abominable! Knowing how grotesquely we’re treated by our wizards, how can you—?”

  “Oh, yes!” Hesper stomped a delicate hoof. “We can all see in what vile degradation you’re forced to subsist! What, does Professor Histulari not heat the butter to the proper temperature when he sautés your shrimp?”

  “Slander!” Lurching upright, Esteemed Tadon bunched his hands into fists. “My master is beyond reproach, and I’ll not stand by while your foul lips desecrate his name!”

  “Both of you!” Unable to remain silent an instant longer, Cluny leaped straight into the air, all four paws flailing. “If you familiars choose to spend your time bickering like this, it’s no wonder wizards think of you as children!”

  Hesper’s head snapped around to glare at Cluny, but Esteemed Tadon gave another of his snorts. “Perfect!” he exclaimed, disdain dripping from his voice like the water that dripped from his carapace. “This day only lacked me being lectured by an animal who’s a fetish at best!” He jutted his chin at her. “How dare you speak thus to your betters, rodent?”

  Cluny aimed a claw up and back in what she hoped was Crocker’s general direction. “Because my master expects me to! And yes, Crocker’s not my master in the same way that Professor Histulari is yours, Esteemed Tadon, but he’s the whole reason I’m here at Huxley!” None of which, she realized with a start, was actually a lie, but she forced the thought away and continued, “He expects me to act like I’ve got a brain, and I expect him to do the same!”

  A little reptilian cough rumbled behind her. “And yes, you, too, Shtasith!” she called out, rolling her eyes before fixing them again on Esteemed Tadon. “Because maybe we’re a human and a dragon and a squirrel, but we’re people first, people who like each other and trust each other! That’s how it ought to work no matter who’s called the wizard and who’s called the familiar and who’s called whatever other name anybody wants to use! It’s the relationship that counts, and real magic can only happen when humans and animals work together!”

  Esteemed Tadon gave one slow blink, then shook his head and settled back into his pond. “If you believe that, rodent, then you’re a fool.”

  “She isn’t,” Hesper said quietly. “I mean, she doesn’t have to be.” With a swallow, she lowered her head. “I loved my mistress, but since I was her familiar, I didn’t think it was my place to step in when she started acting crazier and crazier. Then she tried to kill Sophomore Crocker and...and managed to destroy herself.” Looking up, she tossed her mane toward Professor Histulari, staring wide-eyed from his desk chair. “Your master loves you, Tadon, even though you’re kidnapping people and threatening to kill them. Are you so sure of yourself that you’re willing to put him in the same place my mistress put me? Are you?”

  In the silence that followed, Cluny couldn’t keep from clutching her chest fur. “Please, Esteemed Tadon,” she said, letting her voice get as squeaky as it wanted. “You’re trying to shelter Professor Histulari from the problems you see in the world. But he’s here to help you with your burdens as much as you’re here to help with his, and not sharing them is just going to crush you both.”

  “It’s not easy,” Crocker suddenly said; startled, Cluny looked back to see him sitting cross-legged on the floor behind her. “I mean, everything at Huxley teaches us that wizards hafta be in charge all the time. You know it doesn’t work that way, Esteemed Tadon, but it doesn’t work any better when a familiar tries to be in charge all the time, either.”

  “Tadon?” The word grazed Cluny’s ears as softly as paper rustling, but Professor Histulari rising to his feet showed where it had come from. “I...I can’t pretend I quite understand what’s happening here, but I know you’ve always done your best to help me. I know also that I’m not the sort of master someone as vivacious as you deserves, but—”

  “Master!” Faster than Cluny would’ve thought possible, Esteemed Tadon sprang from his pool and shot across the room to wrap his arms around Professor Histulari’s knees. “That I’ve brought such doubt and sorrow upon you will shame me always! Can you ever forgive me?”

  The professor bent to rest his hands on the kappa’s narrow shoulders. “Always, Tadon. Always.”

  “And so,” came a soft hiss, Shtasith winging down to land beside Cluny, “you begin verging upon correct behavior, Esteemed Tadon.”

  “Yes.” Hesper took several steps forward, her hooves clicking against the floorboards. “More than that, though, Tadon, we need you thoughtful and engaged, you and Professor Histulari both. We need your input along with Crocker and Shtasith and Cluny, with me and Jorvik, with Magister Gollantz and Raine, with all of us who know that we’ve got to change how wizards and familiars interact. We’ve a group that’s to start meeting next Tuesday at the home I used to share with my mistress.” She stopped, her tufted tail flicking slightly. “Is that something you might be interested in?”

  For another long moment, silence spread through the room. Then Esteemed Tadon turned his head away from Professor Histulari’s tweed trousers. “I rarely apologize to any other than my master,” he muttered, “but I find myself thinking I may have acted hastily and in error at several points today.” He sniffed, then raised his gaze to meet the professor’s. “Master, would you feel comfortable participating in such a discussion?”

  “I?” The professor was clearly shaking where he stood. “Oh, no. No, no. However—” He gave another of his enormous swallows. “I will gladly sacrifice a bit of my comfort to the cause of getting my fellows to understand the indispensable role you familiars play in our lives.”

  Cluny finally let go the breath she’d been holding, and the rest went quite easily. They all agreed to meet Tuesday night a few blocks away at Hesper’s place; Hesper and Jorvik puffed away in a cloud of cedar-scented black smoke; and Cluny climbed wearily up Crocker’s robes to tumble into her pocket while Crocker and Professor Histulari made polite leave-taking noises at each other. Then quiet darkness enfolded her, the steady roll of Crocker walking and the thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat wanting to make her think that she could relax.

  “My Cluny?” Shtasith asked above her. “All is well, is it not? We have survived yet again, and while we didn’t leave with our enemies’ entrails, we did leave with their allegiance.”

  “Yeah,” Crocker said. “And sure, it was a little touch-and-go there for a minute or two, but we knew you’d come along eventually and take care of everything.”

  “No.” Sitting up, Cluny forced her thoughts into words. “I didn’t take care of everything. It was the professor’s spell that put Esteemed Tadon to sleep.”

  Crocker shrugged. “But you brought the professor, right? I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t’ve done anything on his own.”

  Gnashing her teeth, Cluny spun in the pocket and waved her paws. “That’s not the point! When you guys’re in trouble, it’s supposed to be me who saves you!”

  She would’ve gone on, spelling out the responsibilities that she, their wizard, had toward them, her familiars, but Shtasith reached down from his perch on Crocker’s shoulders to press a claw sideways against her muzzle. “Forgive me, my Cluny, but did we not just all agree to allow others to assist us?”

  With a glare, she slapped his foreleg away. “It’s not the same, and you know it!”

  “I do?” Crocker cocked his head. “Weird. It doesn’t sound like anything I know.” He poked Shtasith. “You know anything like that, Teakettle?”

  “I do not!” Steam puffed from the little dragon’s snout. “When we are ensnared by difficulties, any help is—”

  “But it’s always my fault!” Cluny couldn’t stop herself from shouting. “Every time something bad happens to us, it’s because I’m an animal wizard or because I’m a wizard with two familiars!” Her throat tightening, she shrank back into her pocket and covered her eyes with her paws. “You guys have to suffer, but it’s always about me!”

  Half a moment of nothing but the evening breeze in the trees, then Crocker gave a snort. “Yeah, ’cause I never accidentally summoned the Queen of the Ifrits into our dorm room, did I? And nearly flooding the Fire Realms? Which of us did that, huh?”

  “And I,” Shtasith added. “Am I not a creature so dangerous that my very existence in the Material Realm is all but forbidden by every interplanar statute and agreement?”

  Peering out from between her claws, Cluny blinked at Crocker’s smile, at the gentle blue specks whirling in Shtasith’s black eyes. “Y’see?” Crocker asked, stroking a finger through the fur between her ears. “So since we’re all three of us equally good at getting into trouble, let’s drop the whole ‘blame game’ thing and deal with whatever happens in whatever way we can no matter who we hafta drag in to help.”

  “Indeed.” Shtasith gave a crisp nod. “We shall deploy the forces loyal to us against the forces of ignorance and oppression, and we shall continue to rout them!”

  Crocker laughed. “Or, y’know, at least get our homework done on time.”

  “Eep!” Cluny’s spine stiffened, snapping her upright in her pocket. “We haven’t finished our notes for class tomorrow!”

  “And,” Shtasith added, “we’ve yet to have supper.”

  “All right.” Crocker clapped his hands again. “We pop over to the Pizzita, pick up something to go, then back to the room, no muss, no fuss. Sound good?”

  Shtasith nodded. “Since my diet is now apparently restricted to the range between warm and hot, I shall request extra molten cheese.”

  Wanting to giggle, Cluny instead rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said, making her voice as grouchy as she could manage. “But after this, I don’t want to hear anything about study breaks from you guys for at least another month.”

  “What?” Crocker gaped, then scowled and flicked a finger into Shtasith’s side. “Nice going, Teakettle.”

  “Silence, Simian.” Shtasith slapped the flat of his barbed tail against Crocker’s ear. “I know six different ways to kill a human with molten cheese, I’ll have you know.”

  Cluny let herself giggle at that, flared her whiskers into her teleportation spell, and whisked them all away to the pizzeria.

  Till the Cows Come Home

  L.S. Patton

  Marion grew up on a farm, but managed never to learn how to milk a cow. She knew that if she didn’t know how to do it, it couldn’t become one of her chores. There are, however, worse things than having to milk a cow.

  L.S. Patton is a biochemist, and writes in her limited spare time. She lives in Indianapolis with her dog, cat, horse, and fantastic husband. “Till the Cows Come Home” is her third story in Sword and Sorceress.

  It was almost a relief when it finally happened. I had been driving myself crazy with the preparations, knowing someone would find out my secret eventually. I had taken to stopping by the inn in the evening for a mug of cider to keep an eye on things, and before I even made it through the door, I heard an unknown voice mention the cow. Feeling vindicated, I slowly eased back out of the door, and headed off to find the cow in question.

  Alex’s notorious cow was safe in her stall, so I headed up to the house to tell Alex the news. The light was shining through the front window by the door, and I could see Alex reading in his chair. He rose quickly when I knocked on the door.

  “Clara? What’s wrong?”

  “Someone’s found out. I heard someone at the inn; Margot isn’t safe.”

  Alex blinked, as if he hadn’t been expecting this to happen every day for the last three months. Maybe it was only me. “What?” he asked.

  “There was a stranger at the inn asking about Margot, as a result of our trip into the Enchanted Forest. I think he suspects that there’s something special about her,” I said, slightly more articulately. Margot was, in fact, a very special cow; she had the ability to pull magic into her, nullifying both nearby enchantments and clearing areas around her of magic. I’d used this power to help rescue a child from the Forest a few months ago, something no one had been able to do in living memory. Margot was a magical artifact of amazing power, and I had always feared that if word of what she could do got out, the unscrupulous would do anything to get their hands on her.

  Understanding lit Alex’s eyes. “So you’re taking her into the Forest, then? How long will you be gone?” We had planned for this eventuality, and neither of us wanted to be caught up in an acquisition war between mages.

  “I’ve packed for a week, and I’m hoping that he won’t stay long once he realizes that Margot and I aren’t here. Next Thursday, I’ll sneak back out and see how things look.”

  “I’ll snoop around while you’re gone and let you know what’s happening, if you want to stop back here on Thursday.” Alex looked hopeful, and it made more sense to stop here than somewhere more public, anyway.

  “Sounds good. Would you tell Karen to keep an eye on my chickens for me?”

  Alex nodded, and seemed on the verge of saying something else, but instead nodded again, and said, “Be careful out there.”

  I nodded back, and walked to the barn to collect Margot. Alex was still standing in the doorway when I walked her out to the road, and raised a hand. I waved back, and started on the path for the Forest.

  ~o0o~

  Knowing that Margot was such a hot commodity, I had been planning for this eventuality since I had brought Sofia out of the Forest. It was partly curiosity that made me return to the Forest, and partly a desire to prove that my first trip hadn’t been a fluke. The shield I had developed to keep Margot from pulling all the magic from an area kept most of the Forest’s magic from us, and Margot absorbed what got through the shield, though it sometimes took a while for the effects to wear off. Once I had determined that this was a workable solution, I realized it would be the perfect hiding place if anyone found out about Margot.

  I paused at the edge of the Forest to set the shield, which I could now do almost in my sleep, then walked into the Enchanted Forest. The Forest was always different, but several things were the same; to my magesight, wild magic billowed around us, sometimes coalescing into spells, sometimes just floating like mist. I walked through a particularly lurid green cloud and saw a rock shaped like a sickle. One of the things I had realized in my experimentation was that there were unchanging objects in the Forest; the rock was one of these. They could be used to find your way, even though nothing else was constant. After the rock was a gnarled old tree, then a creek, and then, finally, our destination.