A few days later, Callie learned that she and Comfrey’s first match as a bowracing team would be against Anthser and his employer. Comfrey’d ridden against them before, with greatcat partners on loan on each occasion. “Lord Nikola and Fel Fireholt are not professional competitors, but they are an excellent team. Better than some who are. They’ve won around two matches in three against me, I’d hazard. So it should be a good match even if it is purely for sport, and I’ll not fault you should we lose.”

They practiced together a couple of days beforehand, on the Markavian’s actual bowracing course. Riding with Comfrey on real trails with proper targets reminded Callie why she’d wanted this job. Carrying any human was fun, with that small warm weight against her back and those delicate nimble-fingered hands clinging. It was like carrying a kitten, only better because humans were adults and wouldn’t do the foolish things a kitten might. Riding with a partner, a skilled companion you could count on, was better still. Racing to a target and then slowing just enough for Comfrey to shoot, arrows appearing in the target as if by magic, thrilled her.

Not everything about practice went so well. One particular section of the Markavian’s course was the hardest she’d ever run. The worst part wasn’t the trail, which was bad enough with all its hills, switchbacks, steep climbs, fords across creeks, and dense forests that obscured line of sight. No, the worst of it was that you didn’t have to stick to the trails. Lord Comfrey insisted they cover it four times, twice at a walk and twice at speed, to hunt for shortcuts in the forbidding terrain. They tried some cliff-climbing: scrambling straight up to bypass switchbacks, when there were pawholds enough. It was tiring but faster than running the full length, except if she had to abandon an attempt from misjudging the pawholds. When there weren’t trees in the way, jumping from one part of the trail to a lower part generally worked well.

Still, by the end of the day even Comfrey was exhausted. Callie could understand why the trail-optional section might be popular with some: it was as unlike a racetrack as one might imagine while still being arguably navigable. But even so, she and Comfrey agreed that they’d pick the flattest and most straightforward sections, and she privately hoped their opponents would do the same.

Those hopes were disappointed on the day of the race: Lord Nikola chose it as the last section of the four they would run.

“It’ll be fine,” Comfrey told her, as they discussed strategy in private after the course was chosen. “They’ll almost certainly win that leg, so we need to get enough of a lead early that they can’t overcome it. I doubt we can dispirit them, but it’s worth a shot. They know the trail-optional section well, so if you see them take a shortcut and you’re comfortable trying it, follow their lead.”

Callie nodded and set concerns about that part aside to focus on each stage as it came. Lord Nikola and Anthser didn’t look like much of a team: the warcat short and stout although muscular and well-proportioned, the man tall and whippet-slender. But when they raced, Callie understood what Comfrey meant about them. They were more than partners: they moved as one flesh, every action synchronized, rider the perfect counterbalance to each stride and jump of warcat.

She envied them that ease. Callie was hyperaware of her rider, even when she could tell his seat was solid. They shared a few body-language signals: speed up, slow down, turn right or left, shooting now. For anything more complex they had to use clumsy words, though, nothing like the telepathic bond Lord Nikola seemed to share with Anthser. Well, he was a mind-healer. Maybe that helped.

But jealous though she might be, the challenge exhilarated her. She tore through the course sections that Comfrey and she had chosen even faster than they had in practice, and her heart swelled with pride for her rider as he consistently outshot Anthser’s. By the time they finished the third section of four, they enjoyed a solid lead over Anthser and Lord Nikola. Solid enough that Anthser and she half-joked about his team conceding.

Callie would have been happy to claim the win early. It’d been a fantastic day so far, and while part of her didn’t want it to end, another part didn’t want to risk it on the obstacles of that final, trail-optional leg.

But of course they’d not been serious about conceding. So when the flag dropped for the final part, Callie surged down the slope as fast as she dared. Faster than she’d’ve dared had Comfrey not encouraged her to take risks.

And still not fast enough. Anthser crashed through what she’d thought were impenetrable woods on either side of the switchback trail to land fifty yards ahead of her, then did it again on the next turn, before she caught up. So she crashed after him, trying to duck and jump over branches and weave around trees, and feeling as though she were hitting more than she missed. “Abandoned World! How does he do this?” she cursed as another branch whipped against her chest.

“Wings,” Comfrey muttered. “Invisible wings. Maybe they grow in with enough practice. Ow.”

“You all right?”

“Splendid,” he replied, words muffled against her fur. “I’ll just hide my face against your neck now. Tell me when there’s something to shoot.”

By two-thirds through, Comfrey’s theory had developed further: “Angels. They’re both angels. They can fly and they’re inviolate, so they simply pass through anything that’s in their way.” Callie thought that was as good an explanation as any other. They were now far enough behind on this leg that she doubted their lead from the earlier sections would be enough to counterbalance it. Comfrey had clucked at her a couple of times for choosing the trail over the riskier climbs and jumps that Anthser and Lord Nikola made. She was pretty sure it was her fault they were losing now. Maybe if she’d had more confidence in her climbing ability and in Comfrey’s seat, they’d’ve been able to pull it off.

So when Comfrey said, “Climb there,” and pointed, she gave it serious consideration.

They were on a trail up yet another curst cliff, this one a nearly vertical slope too steep for more than a few sideways trees and bushes to grow on it. The location he’d indicated had a few rocky outcrops for pawholds, and a tree she could maybe push off from in leaping up to the big overhang at the top. The overhang looked particularly awkward. It was stone, so it wouldn’t give way under her paws, but getting over it would be challenging to say the least. “Don’t think ’ll work,” she panted out.

“Might as well try. Worst case: we cannot make it, lose more time backing down, and lose by more. But we’re already losing, so we’ll be no worse off. And if you succeed, we might yet win.”

Callie wanted to articulate her actual concern, which was that her rider might fall off in the middle of the climb. But she had little breath left for speech, and his eyes worked as well as hers. If he thought it was safe, why should she argue? He’d stayed on through all her jumps and leaps and climbs so far, and if he thought she’d been too cautious earlier—

“I have the utmost confidence in you, Feli Southing,” Comfrey added. “Give it a shot.”

She set her jaw as she raced to the spot he’d recommended, and launched herself upwards. She scrabbled up the cliff, loose dirt and pebbles showering down behind her as she rose. She could feel Comfrey hugged against her back, the tension in his body urging her upwards. She reached the tree not far below that intimidating overhang and shoved herself off from its trunk. Her forepaws clawed at the outcrop as she reached it, wedged for a moment into a crack, but lost her purchase and fell. She checked their freefall on the same narrow tree, bent perpendicular to the cliff and straining under their weight. I should go back this isn’t going to work—

“Almost,” Comfrey said. “One more try.”

Callie launched again, with such force the tree cracked behind them and tumbled down. Oh crap what will I catch myself on if we fall I’ve got to make this—

She caught the outcrop again, forelegs going over the top and hindlegs curling below, all four sets of claws digging in. Don’t fall don’t fall can Comfrey hang on like this CRAP—

The greatcat shoved her hindlegs wildly against the cliff to give herself some momentum as her forelegs hauled her body over the outcrop. We made it!  she thought, in an instant of wild triumph, before she realized her rider was screaming, and turned to see him falling.

Callie almost fell down the cliff herself in her anxiousness to get to the bottom, even though it was over almost before she realized what had happened. From the creek at the base of the cliff, Anthser had seen Comfrey fall before she did, and he’d jumped to intercept. Lord Nikola had caught his friend while Callie was still trying to think of something she could do other than kill herself falling after her rider. She finished her descent with an apology on her lips that she didn’t have a chance to finish.

“Wildcat bitch! Were you trying to kill me?” Comfrey roared at her. Callie rocked back on her haunches in the creek, staring, so shaky with adrenaline that she wasn’t entirely sure of what she’d just heard. He didn’t wait for her response, advancing on her with one hand raised. “Because as assassination attempts go, that was pretty fucking convincing! I thought you were a fucking professional, not some Abandoned World demoncat. Just what was bucking me off at a hundred feet supposed to accomplish?”

What?  “I wasn’t—”

“Don’t backtalk me, you disease-ridden furball! Is this what I’m paying you for? Because I can throw myself off an abandoned cliff for free if I want!”

Her fur bristled with indignation. “You told me to do it!” Callie yelled back, snarling.

“Is your mind made of fur? Because my friend here can fix that for you!” Comfrey waved a hand at Lord Nikola. “So you know, ‘give it a shot’ does not in fact mean ‘throw me off at the highest possible point’!”

“I warned you that we—”

“Hold your tongue, you insolent wildcat-brained ill-bred monstrosity! I’m not paying you for your worthless mouth, I’m paying you for your equally worthless racing—”

This time there was no mistaking the racial slur, worse than all the rest of it combined. “Blood and death you are! I am through!” She pivoted and stalked away.

“You can’t turn your back on me! I own you!”

She twisted her head to look over her shoulder, snarling, “No, you don’t. I quit, Lord Comfrey.”

“Don’t you dare walk away from me! I’ll see you never race again, you little beast!”

“Just watch me, little man.” Humiliated and furious, Callie leapt to the far side of the creek and paced away down the trail, tail lashing.

Angrier than she’d ever been in her life, Callie stalked along the trail. She heard Anthser running up behind her, his scent giving him away even though she didn’t know his tread well enough to recognize it by sound. Her gray-and-white fur bristled, ears flat against her skull. She didn’t say anything, didn’t even turn to look at him. That they’d been flirting so easily earlier made everything worse; Callie didn’t know what she’d do if he started in on her too. Roar him into deafness or flee mewling into the distance? Any chance of making a good impression on him was shot now. She was half-tempted to run from him as it was, but she’d spent a lot of effort during the race and the joy of it had washed away entirely.

So she let him catch up to her. He didn’t say anything at first. They paced one another with similar foreboding body language – tails bottle-brushed and lashing, ears back, strides stiff. Finally, Anthser said, “I’m sorry.” She glanced sidelong at him, and he continued, “I should’ve spoken up for you. Interrupted him. Abandoned World, I’d no idea he was such an ass.”

Her tail didn’t still, but it lost some of its whiplike tension. “Not your fault,” she said, gruffly. “Hah. I worked for him and I had no idea.”

Anthser grunted. “Yeah, but I’ve known him longer. Not to talk to, I suppose, but still. You’d think…rrgh, I wish I hadn’t leapt up so Lord Nik could catch him. Should’ve let him splat.”

Callie froze, legs locked, and stared at him with ears flat back. “You don’t mean that.”

“…no.” He blew out a breath. “But it was all I could think while he was cursing at you. That and ‘It’d be so easy to scruff him and carry him back to the top to drop him off that cliff again. Mistake fixed!’” At her look, Anthser sat and groomed a forepaw. “And no, I wouldn’t. And couldn’t. I mean, pretty sure I could carry him to the edge of a cliff and threaten to toss him off. But I couldn’t actually drop a man. Not unless it was the only way to stop him from hurting someone. Which it wouldn’t be.”

The idea of hurting Lord Comfrey had never crossed her mind, not even when he’d insulted her and yelled like the most odious little toad imaginable. Now that it had, a shudder of revulsion rippled her fur. The vision of that adorable human form crumpled and broken on the ground, little limbs askew, was horrible beyond words. She wasn’t that angry at Lord Comfrey. She couldn’t imagine ever being that angry at anyone. Even just putting a paw over his mouth, to make him stop saying those awful things, felt terrible and wrong. “You could really do that? Carry someone around against his will?”

“Yeah.”

Her fur crawled. “How? How do you even learn to do that?”

“You think of ’em like they were your kitten. You wouldn’t let your kitten hurt someone, right? Or do something that’d get himself hurt. So you’d scruff him if you had to.”

“But they’re not my kittens. And he wasn’t a threat.”

Anthser hesitated. In a low voice, he said, “But he was threatening you.”

“What? Well, my job, sure. But that’s not me.”

The black greatcat shook his head. “No. Did you see his raised hand? That wasn’t for emphasis. He was thinking of hitting you.”

Callie blinked. “Seriously? But he’s just a human. He couldn’t hurt me.”

Anthser stood again, walking slowly up the trail. “Lord Comfrey’s one of the most dangerous people I know.”

“All right, sure, for a human he’s—”

“No. Not just among humans. Anyone, greatcat or human. He’s a deadly shot with a bow, he’s equally skilled with a sword, and he is used to thinking in terms of violence. That makes him more dangerous than most warcats. Nevermind a normal greatcat.” He shook his head again, still ahead of her on the path. “I know he wasn’t a danger to you in that particular circumstance. I just…look, I’m sorry I said anything. I got a lot of training on how to think like a human when it comes to fighting intelligent foes and they’re pretty scary once you know. And now I’m scary and weird because I know what to worry about and…yeah. I’m gonna stop now.”

“Hey, it’s all right.” She crinkled her muzzle, and hastened to catch up to him. “It’s kinda sweet, that you’d be that protective of me.” He turned his head to give her a dubious look, and Callie added quickly, “Sure, I don’t want you to have hurt him. Even if he is an awful little pigeon of a man. I’m glad you caught him anyway.” She shuddered again. “If I never see him again, it’ll be too soon. But everything would be a hundred times worse if you hadn’t caught him. Savior. Thank you.”

His whiskers and ears lifted a little from their unhappy droop. “Well. You’re welcome. Him, meh. I’ll consider it a favor to you.”

Callie rippled her whiskers. “I sure owe you for it.” She nudged his shoulder. “Even if it was all his idea to go up that curst cliff to start with. Not to mention his own abandoned fault for falling.” He nosed her back, but his muzzle crinkled at her last sentence. She eyed him. “What?”

“Uh. Not that I want to defend Comfrey for anything, and this mess is definitely his fault—”

“But…?”

“I just figured you oughta know that a human can’t stay on when you push yourself over a ledge. Not like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you do instinctively. That is, like any greatcat would. By kicking. When you do that motion, especially from that position, you’ll throw a rider off. But Comfrey had no business putting you into that position. Curse it, if you hadn’t pushed off, you would probably have fallen, and no way Lord Nik could catch you no matter what we did. So not saying you should’ve done something else. Just…”

Her ears canted to the side. “No, don’t apologize. I didn’t even realize. And I need to know that kind of thing. Or at least I would if I was ever gonna bowrace again.” Her ears went back as she remembered Comfrey’s threat: ‘I’ll see you never race again’. “D’you think he meant it, about wrecking my career?”

Anthser bared his teeth. “He better not’ve. And Lord Nik was telling him off when I left. That’ll bring him around.”

“Really? Lord Nikola was mad at him too?”

“Oh yeah. If they hadn’t been friends forever, I bet Lord Nik would’ve abandoned him there.”

Callie purred a little. Glad as she was that Anthser had taken her part, it was even more reassuring that the witness who didn’t know her also thought Comfrey’d been in the wrong. She burrowed her head against Anthser’s neck. “Thanks for being on my side, hero.”

“Hey, I’m only on your side because you’re right, you know.”

She purred louder, snuggling into him. “Is that the only reason?”

Anthser purred in answer, rubbing the top of her head. “Yes. Although you being gorgeous and athletic and amazing doesn’t hurt any.”

Whiskers rippling, Callie licked his cheek. “C’mon, hero. Let’s hit the felishome here. I owe you a grooming and lemme tell you, I pay my debts.”

Anthser was right about Lord Nikola, or something, giving Comfrey a change of heart. Callie’s erstwhile employer showed up at the Markavian felishome to apologize less than an hour later, and he promised her severance pay as well as a good reference.

Comfrey didn’t ask her if she wanted the bowracing job back. Callie suspected he’d’ve let her retract her resignation if she wanted to, but she really didn’t want to. She wasn’t working for anyone who’d call her a wildcat, no matter how nicely they apologized for it afterwards. There were some mistakes a person only got to make once.

But the offered severance was generous – ridiculously generous, in fact, amounting to two months of pay plus a stipend for room and board, which had been covered during her employment. It was enough that Callie decided to stay in Gracehaven and look for a new employer or sponsor to bowrace. She could have gone back to racing, but the thought of admitting defeat galled her. She was bored of the racing circuit, and the prospect of competitive bowracing still called to her. She just needed the right partner. One who was dedicated and rich enough both to hire her and to afford the sport. Newlant’s bowracing courses were all members-only, and membership was far beyond Callie’s means. Competitions were open to non-members, but entry fees were steep and there was no sense in entering to compete if she couldn’t practice. Still, it was a popular sport among the wealthy, and some folks sponsored bowracing partnerships, salarying both rider and greatcat. Callie wasn’t sure her racing credentials alone would be enough to land her one of those deals, but she held out hope.

That Anthser was in Gracehaven had, of course, nothing to do with her decision to stay.

All right, maybe not nothing.

Very little, though. After all, he was only in the city for the season. He’d leave town as soon as his employer did, and it was a two-day trip to Fireholt, which was a little rural community with no sporting competitions to speak of. And if she did find an employer or a sponsor herself, she’d wind up traveling on their schedule, or on what passed for the bowracing circuit. There could be no future with Anthser.

But she wouldn’t let that stop her from enjoying him now.

She’d seen Anthser a couple of times since that disastrous bowrace, and only liked him more as she got to know him better. He wasn’t what she’d ever imagined a warcat would be. In her head, a warcat was a highly trained professional: cool, methodical, aloof, distant. The sort of person you couldn’t get close to, because he’d always be assessing risks and keeping everyone at a distance, just in case they turned out to be the sort of people he had to stop. Arrogant, because he’d been taught to think his judgment good enough to make life-and-death decisions. Callie could catch glimpses of some of that in Anthser, when she asked him about his work or his training. When he spoke easily of using force to avert harm before anything had a chance to happen.

But Anthser wasn’t arrogant or full of himself. He was friendly, open, playful and affectionate. Just a regular greatcat. Who happened to be a hero. No big deal.

And he didn’t mind how competitive she was, or that she could outrun him in a race. When they were out with his friends, he’d even brag about her ‘wall full of medals’. Nothing intimidated him, or worried him. Callie suspected she was going to miss him a lot when he returned to Fireholt. She already found herself wishing he was around more often so she could talk to him about whatever was on her mind, and looking forward to the next time she’d see him.