The Collar of the Two Skies Chapter 17

Chapter 17

 The furry crew were each relaxing in the backyard in their own way, but Anemo, with Remi-Bise still perched on his chair’s armrest, remained in front of the laptop. He stretched his arms out long, laced his fingers together, and cracked his knuckles. Then, he began to type:

“What does a cat without papers need to travel from Ireland to Egypt?”

Anemo’s laptop let out a short chime, and the screen filled with the first results from the Department of Agriculture in Ireland and the Egyptian Customs Authority. The text read dry and official:

“Mandatory requirements for the export/import of felines from Ireland to Egypt:

1. Mandatory Microchipping: The identification chip (ISO 11784/11785 standard) must be implanted before any other medical procedure.

2. Rabies Vaccination: Administered after microchipping, at least 30 days and no more than 12 months before entering the country.

3. Feline Trivalent Vaccine (FVRCP): Proof of complete immunization against Feline Panleukopenia, Calicivirus, and Rhinotracheitis.

4. Feline Leukemia Vaccine (FeLV): Recommended and checked at the border.

5. International Health Certificate: Issued by an authorized vet no more than 14 days before the flight, officially endorsed and stamped by the Regional Veterinary Office in Ireland.

6. Internal and External Parasite Treatment: Administered within a maximum of 48 hours before boarding.”

Anemo stopped reading and looked at Remi-Bise. The white cat was completely silent. Her blue eyes grew as wide as teacups, and her ears flattened against her head.

“Four?” she gasped in a barely audible whisper. “Four vaccines? And a chip? Anemo, have you seen how thick the needles those doctors use for chips are?”

Sirocco, who had just returned from the flowerbed, leaped onto the table and stared at the screen as if he could understand a single word written there.

“What on earth is ‘ra-bies’? It sounds like a nasty curse! And why do those people want to turn you into a hedgehog, Miss Remi? Four needles mean you’re going to be like a pincushion!”

Mistral scoffed from the fence, climbing down elegantly to join them.

“Don’t be silly, kiddo. They vaccinate her so she doesn’t get sick in the desert. But I must admit... human bureaucracy is worse than an entire day of Irish rain. Anemo, are you sure we can’t just sneak across the border like in the old days?”

If Remi had still been a woman, her face would probably have been as white as her Angora fur.

“I want to rest for a bit!” she said, jumping down from Anemo’s side to settle on the porch swing.

But she had barely curled up on the swing when Fleur appeared on the fence of number 47.

“Good morning, everyone! Mr Anemo, can you give me a hand?”

Anemo wasn’t exactly in the best of moods, given all the problems on his mind, but he couldn’t say no to the tufted-haired girl.

“Of course, kiddo. My tomcats were just asking about you.”

He picked her up, as he usually did, and placed her on the swing next to the white cat. Fleur let out a short laugh.

“My tomcat friends, of course they ask about me, it's just that you don't understand them. You’re too busy catching shadow thieves.”

The girl took the white cat into her arms and began to stroke her. Remembering the magical power of the Collar of the Two Skies, Remi-Bise had no desire to share her secret with Fleur. Overcome with panic, she suddenly arched her back, stood up, and got ready to spring away. The girl tried to calm her down, having no idea what was happening, but the cat thrashed wilder and wilder, finally leaping down to the grass. In her jump, her claw brushed past the girl’s bare left arm, leaving a small scratch behind.

“Ow! You scratched me, whitey! What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry, little one! I couldn’t risk it.”

“What? Risk what? Are you talking?” the girl asked, rubbing her ears in disbelief.

“C'est incroyable!” Mistral said, taking a few steps closer to the swing, while Sirocco froze with his paw in mid-air, completely abandoning his dragonfly hunt.

“The-the tufted girl understands us! She understands us without even touching the collar!”

Fleur had climbed down from the swing, shivering as if caught by a sudden chill.

“Anemo, Mr Anemo, what is happening here? Somehow... somehow I understand everything your animals are saying.”

Aeolus, who was under a plantain leaf out of habit, felt the need to chime in.

“Calm down, kiddo. I think Miss Remi’s scratch gave you a superpower.”

Anemo, who was standing nowhere near the collar, watched the whole scene in his yard like a fool, not knowing what to do first.

“I’m going to get some antiseptic! Don’t move! You’ll be fine!”

*

With her scratch disinfected and covered by a plaster, holding a mug of hot chocolate, Fleur was back on the swing. This time, she sat next to Anemo, who had the white cat on his lap, running his fingers through her fur.

The rest of the furry crew, including Aeolus—Agent 003.5—were gathered on the grass in front of them for a council.

“So, Mr Anemo, you were going to keep this secret... well, a secret from me? Your best friend? The tamer of Archibald-Arbalest ?”

“What would you have done in my place, Fleur? Would you have told everyone that the author Remi Storm is now a white cat living in the house of that scatterbrain Anemo Gale?”

“Well... no. But I promise I won’t tell a single soul!”

*

Barefoot, with his phone pressed to his ear, Anemo paced the yard with his long strides. It was his classic way of grounding himself, but on that morning of June 29th, the ground beneath his feet felt rather shaky. Behind him, like a fluffy ginger shadow, little Sirocco stalked him tactically, making hilarious leaps in an attempt to hunt the writer's ankles at every turn.

“Yes, good morning! It’s for a trip to Egypt, yes... A microchip and a European passport. Only Friday?! There’s no way it can be sooner? Wednesday? Thursday?” Anemo huffed and ended the call, glancing at his notepad where he had already crossed out Clover Feline Care and Emerald Pet Hospital with a thick black line. All the veterinary clinics in the area were fully booked. On the coffee table, the furry crew watched the performance like a silent but highly critical jury. From the windowsill, Mistral lazily cleaned a black paw, watching the writer’s frantic pacing with pure Parisian detachment.

“Ah, quelle horreur...” the tomcat murmured, letting his heavy eyelids drop in a dramatic gesture. “Mon cher Anemo, this island moves at the pace of a tired snail. Believing you can get a same-day vet appointment in Dublin is proof of an almost naive optimism. C'est impossible.”

Remi-Bise said nothing. She sat curled up like a little ball of white fur on the swing next to Fleur, watching Anemo with an intense, emotion-filled gaze. Deep down, she was terrified. The idea of being chipped, branded like a consumer good under the name of her literary rival, flew right in the face of her manifesto from ‘Women Cannot Be Tamed’. But there was something else making her tremble discretely under her white fur: she realized that on Friday, she would have to face Gill's clinic—their old childhood friend. How could she show up in front of her turned into a cat? Every time Anemo stopped pacing and looked at her for a long moment, her feline heart began to beat wildly, caught between the fear of the vet’s needle and the gratitude that he was trying to save her.

Anemo dialed the last number on his list, resuming his rhythmic pacing to the absolute delight of Sirocco, who had just flopped onto his back trying to catch the writer's big toe.

“Hello? Good afternoon! Yes, Anemo Gale speaking... An appointment for a feline passport and a chip... Is Gill at the clinic on Friday?” Anemo stopped dead in his tracks, listening to the receptionist's answer. Aeolus crawled out from under his leaf to get a better look at the scene and read the expression on the writer’s face.

“I told you, Anemo! The lists are full pretty much everywhere. Take Friday! If you keep calling around, we’ll lose that spot with Gill too, and then we really won’t make it past September without papers.”

Anemo sighed deeply, put the phone back to his ear, and forced his voice to sound as relaxed as possible:

“Yes, Friday morning is perfect. Tell Gill I’m coming in with an emergency... a white one. Thank you.”

He hung up and sank onto the sofa, right next to Remi. He looked deep into her feline eyes and gently stroked the top of her head, right above the Collar of the Two Skies:

“That’s it, Remi. Friday is the big day. We’re going to Gill. We have four days to get ready... and to hope Trench doesn’t figure out that your ‘Egypt’ is actually a vet appointment.”

Remi let out another deep sigh.

“And what am I supposed to do about Archibald? I need to send him a reassuring email and something to publish... Maybe I should launch a poetry collection of my own? What do you think, Indigo Soul?”

“What do I think? Well, I... think you shouldn’t be making fun of me and my teenage poetry.”

“But I’m not laughing, mon ami. I have plenty of poems myself, they’re just not officially published. They’re only on my personal blog, which is pretty much invisible...”