Clifford shook his head to clear any cobwebs. Yes. There was a mouse in full battle dress riding the lead cat in the pack. Clifford stood up and watched for a moment.
“Hey!” he shouted. The pack heeled back and turned to encircle him. He looked at the cats, “Can any of you talk?”
The lead cat made its way through the pack, and stopped just in front of Clifford, “I can, Clifford of Nostalgia. You know me, actually. I am Slagthor, from the Farm of Pepperidge.”
Clifford smiled, “Mittens.”
The cat bowed, “And I believe you know this guy.” He tossed his head toward the mouse, who was now standing on the ground.
Clifford swallowed. He couldn’t muster words. The mouse stood no more than four inches tall when on his haunches, but in the miniature battle dress he wore he was a giant. He walked forward slowly, and then bowed, “I thought I had lost you, Clifford Jenkins.”
Clifford dropped to his knees so suddenly that some of the cats drew back and hissed, but the mouse lifted a calming hand. Clifford wept, “Schrodinger?”
“The same. Although you never saw me like this. I imagine you’d like to know what happened after the flood in Lithe.”
Clifford nodded, “Yes. I would.” He was still awestruck.
Schrodinger spoke up, “The water carried me to the far end of the city, much farther to the south than you ever would’ve gone. I was able to tell Jaime Conner, the post-boy, to send you west. Your destiny couldn’t be stopped by my loss. I’d really like to thank Jaime. Have you seen him recently?”
Clifford shuddered, “He’s dead. The soldiers over there killed him. Nearly killed me.”
Schrodinger frowned, “I suspected so, in a way. This time the war is far more bitter than the last time.”
Clifford looked at the mouse, “Hey, it’s not like my journey’s been a walk in the park, you know? I lost you in Lithe. Followed a yokel into a land I had never seen. Lost him for a while, ran through some streets, found a gun, found Jaime, watched him die, ran from those who killed him, and then found you again.”
Schrodinger nodded, “I know, Clifford. Your road was never going to be an easy one. And I hate to tell you this, but it isn’t over yet. You still have a ways to go.”
Clifford cautiously bit his lower lip. Suddenly he didn’t think he could go on. Too many people had died. Only one person had actually died to get him here, but that was too many. Knowing that he was responsible for Jaime’s death was beginning to weigh heavier and heavier on him.
“Clifford,” the mouse stepped closer, “I know this is difficult. But I want you to know that Jaime would’ve died whether you were here or not. Fate had weaved that path for him.”
Shaking his head, Clifford fought back the sudden feeling of relief that came with Schrodinger’s words, “Why are you dressed like that?”
Schrodinger brushed off his armor, “I am in the General’s battle dress of my people.”
“Mice?”
“We are fierce warriors, Clifford Jenkins. My race is one of the oldest on Earth. You would’ve learned that at your University. I am a General. I know you think I am your mouse, but unfortunately I had to use you to speed my journey to Historia.”
Clifford shook his head, “Finish telling me about what happened to you in Lithe.”
The mouse cleared his throat, “I finally escaped the waters and took a day or so to recoup. I knew that Jaime would bring you west along the road, so I hurried back to the farm of Pepperidge and rallied the cats to our cause.”
Clifford snapped back to reality, “Our cause?”
Schrodinger nodded, “Yes, our cause. the reason you’ve come to Historia. The reason these cats are fighting.”
Clifford stood up, “You mean the cause you’ve used me for?”
“Yes,” Schrodinger said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
Clifford turned away, “What is our cause, mouse?”
Schrodinger jumped up and landed on Clifford’s shoulder. He whispered into Clifford’s ear. The mouse then jumped down and started to walk away, the direction the cat’s were initially going. Clifford stood rooted in place, stunned.
Schrodinger stopped and looked back, “Well, are you coming or not?”
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