Chapter 167. Reunion

Adom found himself staring directly into a pair of luminous green eyes that belonged to what was quite possibly the largest cat he'd ever seen in his life.

The midnight puma sat on the mahogany conference table like it owned not just the furniture, but the entire room, the island, and probably several neighboring kingdoms. Its black coat absorbed light in a way that made it seem less like fur and more like a hole cut in reality, except for the faint silver striping that caught the magical illumination from the crystal chandeliers overhead.

Midnight pumas were native to the Shadowlands, deep in the continent's interior where normal sunlight never quite managed to penetrate the perpetual canopy. Even the females, in their final adult form, grew to almost twice the size of a tiger. This one had to be male, judging by the sheer bulk of him. His shoulders were easily as wide as Adom's torso, and when he shifted position slightly, muscles moved under that midnight coat like steel cables under silk.

For a moment, Adom had wondered if this might be Morgana herself. But this puma wore a collar—thick leather studded with what looked like genuine emeralds—and those green eyes held an intelligence that was distinctly feline rather than human.

Adom had been sitting in this room for the better part of five minutes now.

It was clearly designed to impress visitors into submission: vaulted ceilings that disappeared into shadow, walls lined with ancient tomes and magical artifacts that hummed with barely contained power, and enough empty space to hold a small army.

He'd been told to wait here until Morgana could see him. So he'd waited, choosing a chair that gave him good sight lines to both entrances and keeping his hands visible on the armrests in what he hoped was a non-threatening posture.

Then, a minute ago, this walking shadow had padded through the main doorway like he owned the place, hopped onto the table with surprising grace for something that probably weighed as much as a horse, and settled into a position where he could stare directly at Adom.

The puma hadn't moved since.

Hadn't blinked either, as far as Adom could tell. Just... watched.

Occasionally, a low rumbling sound would emerge from somewhere deep in that massive chest, not quite a growl but definitely not a purr. The intimidation factor was considerable. Sitting calmly while a predator that could probably bite a man's head off studied him with interest required a certain amount of mental fortitude that most people would not have.

Also, it was kind of cool. Not many people could say they'd had a staring contest with a midnight puma.

Adom smiled and reached out with his druidic abilities, the mental connection forming like a bridge between their consciousness.

Hey.

The puma's reaction was immediate and dramatic. His ears snapped forward, his eyes widened, and his entire body went rigid with surprise. The rumbling stopped abruptly.

How is this possible? The mental voice was deep, resonant. You are human.

Well, I'm a druid, Adom replied, maintaining the smile. We can talk to all living beings. That's what I'm doing with you right now.

A druid? There was confusion in the puma's mental voice. I am unfamiliar with this term.

It's a kind of mage, Adom explained.

The change in the puma's demeanor was instant and dramatic. His ears flattened against his skull, his lips pulled back to reveal impressive fangs, and a low growl rumbled through the mental connection.

I do not like mages.

Why? Adom asked, feigning hurt. What did we ever do to you?

The puma studied him for a long moment, his green eyes searching Adom's face with an intensity that was almost uncomfortable. When he finally responded, there was a note of wonder in his mental voice.

It is... most strange, to converse this way with a human. I had not thought it possible.

He settled back on his haunches, some of the aggressive tension leaving his frame, though wariness remained.

Mages took me from my home when I was young, he said, his mental voice carrying old pain beneath the dignified exterior. They killed my siblings when they resisted. Then they sold me to people who kept me in a cage barely large enough for me to turn around in.

The images that came with his words were vivid and heartbreaking. Adom saw flashes of memory—other midnight puma cubs, the terror of nets and magical restraints, the grief of loss that never quite faded.

Is that how you found yourself here? Adom asked gently. With your mistress?

The reaction was immediate and violent. Rage flooded through the mental connection, so intense that Adom actually flinched.

I have no master or mistress! The puma's mental roar was deafening. I am FREE. I am here because I choose to be here, not because any human owns me.

The depth of his offense was overwhelming.

I'm sorry, Adom said quickly. I didn't mean to imply anything bad.

...I understand. I remain here, the puma continued, his mental voice gradually returning to its previous dignity, because the human woman who helped me escape my cage lives here. I have a debt to repay. So I protect her.

There was more behind those words. Loyalty, yes, but also affection.

Did you know, Adom said, that Morgana was also a puma once?

The puma's ears snapped forward again, surprise replacing the lingering anger.

What?

I met her years ago, when she was a little midnight puma cub. She'd been captured by slavers, just like you. I freed her from her captors, only to find out later that she was actually human—cursed to take puma form.

Cursed? The puma's mental voice carried a note of disdain. It is hardly a curse to possess such a form. We are magnificent creatures.

Adom chuckled. Us humans like our own forms as much as you like yours.

The puma considered this, his head tilting slightly as he processed the concept of species identity.

I... suppose I can understand such attachment to one's natural state.

I brought her to some people called the Veyshari, Adom continued. They were able to free her from the curse and restore her human form.

Then you were her benefactor, the puma said.

Well, in a sense, I guess you could say that?

The puma rose to his feet and padded around the table with fluid grace. When he reached Adom's chair, he lowered his massive head and pressed it gently against Adom's shoulder—the kind of greeting one cat might offer to another it considered worthy of trust.

Then, mage, you are a friend of mine.

Haha. You can call me Adom.

Adom? The puma's mental voice rolled the name around like he was tasting it.

Yeah, that's my name.

The massive cat straightened, assuming a posture that somehow managed to be both regal and formal.

I am Ragna. It is the name given to me by nature itself.

The significance hit Adom immediately. Not just a name—a concept, an essence distilled into sound. He could see it in his mind, the way druids sometimes perceived the true names of things. Ragna. Rage. The fury of the wild, the wrath of something that refused to be tamed or broken.

That's a fearsome name, my friend.

I am a fearsome being.

Adom grinned. Can I pet you?

The question seemed to catch the puma off guard. His ears twitched forward in surprise.

I have always been curious about humans and their habit of wanting to touch and caress me. Are they not afraid?

Adom's smile widened. Instead of answering with words, he opened his mind and let his memories flow through the mental connection. The dungeons. The spider-mother. All the fights he's had ever since he came back. The near-death experiences, the monsters.

All of it, laid bare for Ragna to see.

The puma's eyes widened as the images flooded through their connection. When the mental torrent finally stopped, there was a long moment of silence.

Oh.

You think you're that fearsome to me?

No... no I do not think so. Not anymore.

Ragna rose from his position on the table and padded over to where Adom sat. With deliberate grace, he lowered his massive head until it was level with Adom's chest, then pushed forward gently—an invitation.

Adom reached out and ran his fingers through the midnight-black fur. It was soft, like touching liquid shadow that somehow had substance. The silver striping felt slightly different under his palm, smoother somehow, as if those markings were made of actual metal rather than just differently colored hair.

A rumbling purr started somewhere deep in Ragna's chest. The sound was so deep and powerful that it made the mahogany table vibrate, crystal decanters on a nearby sideboard chiming softly in harmony.

Adom laughed, delighted.

Footsteps echoed from behind the great doors at the far end of the room. Multiple people, from the sound of it, and they were talking—no, arguing. Voices raised in what sounded like heated disagreement, though the words were too muffled by the thick wood to make out clearly.

The arguments grew louder as the footsteps approached. Someone was definitely not happy about something.

The doors swung open.

And the first person Adom saw was Morgana.

She hadn't quite changed—still the same sharp features, still the same intelligence burning behind blue eyes—but there was something different about her bearing now. More regal, like she'd grown into a role that actually fit her. Her raven-black hair was longer than he remembered, and her skin had taken on some color, no longer the pale shade he associated with too much time spent in captivity. She looked taller, too, though that might have been the way she carried herself now.

The moment their eyes met, she stopped walking.

Behind her, what Adom assumed were her advisors—a collection of stern-faced individuals in expensive clothing—also fell silent mid-argument, all of them turning to stare at him and Ragna.

The room went completely quiet except for the soft rumble of Ragna's purring. The massive puma looked back at the new arrivals with lazy interest, clearly unbothered by the sudden attention.

Morgana started walking forward again, leaving her entourage clustered by the doorway. Her expression was carefully neutral, the kind of diplomatic mask that gave nothing away.

"You come to my home uninvited," she said, her voice carrying clearly across the vast room. "Beat up my people. Destroy a few valuable artifacts in my towers. And now you sit in my conference room designed to intimidate my adversaries, petting my friend as if you own the place."

She stopped directly in front of his chair and stared down at him.

Then she smiled. Bright and genuine and completely at odds with the stern lecture she'd just delivered.

"I'm so happy you haven't changed, little mage."

Adom grinned back and stood up. "Hello, kitty cat."

"Oh, come here, you."

She grabbed him in a hug that was surprisingly strong, considering she'd never been particularly physical when they were younger. Adom felt her squeeze him with enough force that he actually had to brace himself, which was impressive considering the size difference between them. As her arms wrapped around him, he caught a glimpse of thin metal lines running along her forearms and disappearing under her sleeves—tracery that continued up to her neck and probably along her spine.

He'd seen something like this before. A prototype enhancer, the kind of thing that wouldn't be invented for another decade or two. Which meant whoever had made this was either a genius working far ahead of their time, or...

Well. That was interesting.

When she finally let go, she was laughing.

"Look how you've grown!" She reached out and poked his arm, then squeezed his bicep. "And look at those muscles! What have you been doing, wrestling bears?"

"Something like that."

"I knew you'd fill out eventually. Remember when you were all skinny and awkward? Now look at you." She poked him in the chest. "Actual shoulders. I'm impressed."

"Thanks, I think."

"How's Sam?"

"We were supposed to come together, but he couldn't make it at the last minute. Mission business."

"Mission business?" Morgana's eyebrows went up. "That sounds ominous. How is he, though? It's been what, five years?"

"He's good. Still terrible at expressing emotions. Still thinks books are more interesting than people."

"Some things never change." Her smile faded slightly. "I've missed you both. I know I stopped writing—"

"Why did you stop writing?"

"Things got busy. Really busy. Building all this—" She gestured around at the fortress that surrounded them. "—turns out to be incredibly time-consuming. And then there were the politics, and the recruiting, and honestly half the time I wasn't sure if my letters were even reaching you."

"They were. For a while. We worried."

"I'm sorry. I should have tried harder to stay in touch."

"Hey, you're here now. We're here now. That's what matters."

She smiled again, but there was something wistful about it now. "You always were the forgiving type."

"Ahem."

Adom looked over Morgana's shoulder. An older man had stepped forward from the group of advisors, his weathered face wearing an expression of polite patience that suggested he'd been waiting for an appropriate moment to interrupt.

"My apologies for intruding on your... reunion," the man said. "But perhaps we could proceed to discuss why the mage is here?"

Morgana looked back at Adom, and he could see in her eyes that she understood the moment was over. Business time.

Adom sighed. The reunion hadn't lasted long before reverting to politics.

He hated politics.

"I was sent by the Archmage, Gaius Emris, on an official mission to bring back Morgana."

Morgana's smile faded completely. Behind her, the advisors shifted. Hands moved to sword hilts. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees as everyone waited for him to explain why that didn't sound incredibly hostile.

"This isn't enmity," Adom said quickly. "They want you to be the new Empress."

The silence that followed was complete except for Ragna's continued purring. The massive puma had no idea what any of the humans were discussing, but he seemed content to provide a low, rumbling soundtrack to the sudden tension in the room.

"What do you mean?" Morgana asked.

"The Emperor's become a problem for the Magisterium. We've tried everything to maintain good relations, but eventually there's going to be a battle between us. In light of that, they're looking for a legitimate heir for when the conflict starts." Adom paused, watching her face. "I discovered, a few years ago while looking through a journal featuring an imperial family portrait, that you'd been a member. The Emperor's niece. Daughter of General Soren, who was—and the archmage wants confirmation on this—assassinated by the Emperor."

The old advisor who'd interrupted them earlier started to smile. Then the smile became a grin, then something approaching joy.

"Princess," he said, addressing Morgana with sudden formality, "this is excellent news. The Magisterium is usually neutral in these matters. They were our greatest concern about how to proceed when the time came to act."

The other advisors began nodding, murmuring agreement. The mood in the room shifted from tense wariness to something that might have been hope.

Morgana remained silent, just looking at Adom. Her expression was unreadable.

After a long moment, she turned to face her advisors.

"Please leave the room," she said politely. "I'd like to speak with my little brother alone."

"Little brother?" one of them asked, confusion clear in his voice.

"Please," Morgana repeated, and there was something in her tone that made it clear this wasn't actually a request.

They filed out, casting curious glances back at Adom as they went. When the doors closed behind them, the room felt much larger and much quieter.

Morgana was quiet for another moment, then sighed.

"Always full of surprises, aren't you, little mage?"