Chapter 25
On Monday evening, the seventh of September, Anemo dropped by number 42, his parents' house, to say goodbye to Aura. She didn't know the real reason he was going to Egypt, and that’s exactly how it had to stay. As far as she knew, Anemo was just going with his dad to work on his new book... nothing more.
"You don't need to drive us to the airport, Mum. We're big boys, we can manage," he joked. "I would have asked you to look after the fur-babies while I'm away, but Fleur has already volunteered and she’s absolutely thrilled. You know what she's like... with her little old lady attitude, she’d be deeply offended if I didn't leave her in charge of their well-being."
"I'll miss you, son. I'm used to your father jetting off, but you—you're always right here, just a few houses away."
They shared a warm hug, and Anemo went back to his own house. It was full of hustle and bustle, and the air felt thick with static electricity, like the calm before a massive storm.
There were only a little over two weeks left until the autumn solstice, and Anemo had a strange gut feeling—a hunch that his destiny, and the destinies of everyone close to him, had just been sucked into the swirling funnel of a tornado.
*
On the morning of the eighth of September, Fleur showed up at the House of the Winds just before school. She was determined to say goodbye to her grown-up friends and reassure them that the cats were in safe hands.
"Take care of yourself, Remi," she whispered. "And keep an eye on Anemo. He’s such a scatterbrain, and I won’t be there to snap him out of it... Oh, and I made sure to hide his dog-slippers. He's clumsy enough to take you for a walk through Cairo wearing those monstrosities! It's not long now, just a tiny bit longer until you're a beautiful, confident girl again... Right, I’m off! Gotta run to school!"
*
The luggage was packed, and Noel was waiting outside in his taxi. Being a taxi driver was his day job, while keeping pigeons was his hobby—the perfect match for someone so cheerful and active. But for the white cat, the real challenge started much sooner than expected, the exact second the plastic carrier door shut with a sharp, metallic click.
The drive to the airport inside that carrier gave the girl a wave of claustrophobia like nothing she had ever felt before. It didn't matter that the taxi’s interior was comfortable, or that it smelled nicely of citrus, or that the music playing was upbeat. Her grown-up woman's mind had to fight incredibly hard to control the avalanche of fears and cat instincts that were crammed into that tiny plastic box with her.
"Hang in there, Bise, we’re nearly there," Anemo whispered, tapping his fingers gently against the plastic grille to soothe her.
"So, you're taking Remi's cat out to Egypt?" Noel asked from the front seat. "Does that mean Miss Remi Storm is planning on staying there for a while?"
"Er, yeah. We’re bringing her cat, but I honestly have no idea how long Remi plans to stay... I’m only going for about two weeks, and Dad... well, you know Dad. He spends more time over there than he does here."
"Gill would love a holiday too, but she’s completely snowed under at the clinic right now. I don’t know what’s going on with her colleague..."
Anemo and Simoon exchanged a silent look, but neither of them said a word.
Once they arrived at the airport, the humans shook hands and said their goodbyes. But the truth was, the moment the taxi pulled up outside the terminal at Dublin Airport, the white cat’s nightmare moved to a whole new level. The sheer racket inside overwhelmed her instantly. She had heard before that a cat's hearing is four times sharper than a human's, but she was learning what that actually meant on the fly, right here in this massive airport. It wasn’t just crowded; it was a noisy, chaotic place.
The announcements over the loudspeakers blasted into her ears like roars, the wheels of suitcases scraping across the tiled floor made a sharp, rumbling screech, and the buzzing drone of thousands of blending voices made her want to bury her head under her blanket. She could feel the vibration of every single footstep, every squeak, rumble, shuffle, slam... the whining of a spoiled toddler, the raspy cough of a heavy smoker. It felt like it would never end.
While they were waiting in the check-in queue, a familiar shape nudged its way through the crowd. Mr Daniel Frost—alias Trench—in his famous, crumpled raincoat. Standing beside him was a petite, shy woman with curly hair tied back in a ponytail.
The detective spotted them, beamed a wide smile, and waved his arm energetically from a distance. The woman next to him gave a rather awkward, timid wave too.
"You've got to be kidding me, this guy is absolutely everywhere," Anemo muttered right into his father's ear.
Next came the mandatory security checks and hand luggage scanning. And that was where the white cat had to be taken out of her carrier.
"You need to hold her in your arms and walk through the metal detector gate with her," a rather stern-faced border officer explained.
Anemo picked her up. Her tiny body was shaking from head to toe, terrified by the clatter of the conveyor belts and the sharp bleeps of the machines. But she dug her claws deep into Anemo’s jumper, burying her nose against his chest. Thankfully, the scanner didn't make a sound, and Remi-Bise was quickly popped back into her box.
She was panting heavily, but she kept repeating to herself in her head: *Come on, you can do this, it’s not much further. Don’t be silly, it’s hardly your first flight! Everything is going to be fine.* Secretly, though, she would have gladly downed a stiff drink—anything to take the edge off the living nightmare she was currently marching through.
Past the security gates, the Duty-Free area turned out to be a total maze, absolutely packed and thick with the mixed smells of coffee, all sorts of fancy, expensive perfumes, alcohol, and sweat.
"I need a coffee and five minutes to just sit down," the professor muttered, almost to himself.
"No chance we’ll find a free table," Anemo sighed, gripping the handle of the carrier tightly.
But then, from somewhere in the crowd gathered around a buzzing café, Trench’s triumphant voice rang out—and suddenly, it didn't sound quite so annoying anymore.
"Ah, Mr Gale! Professor! What a stroke of luck! Come on, over here! It’s packed, but we’ve managed to grab an excellent table. Sit down with us, my wife is dying to hear all about you, Mr Anemo. Wherever did you get the idea for the chronicles? The kids absolutely worship you, sir! Even our nephew, my sister-in-law's boy."
Trench nudged his wife.
"Tell him! Mind you, my wife is a massive fan of Miss Remi. She is absolutely head over heels for her book, the one about women... Tell him, Margo!"
"Yes," the woman began, her voice unexpectedly clear and youthful. "Her book really opened my eyes and my heart. She makes it so clear that no woman should ever have to live trapped in a cage, even if it is a golden one."
*Well, look at that—the places you meet your fans,* Remi-Bise thought from inside her plastic cage.
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