Chapter Seven

Mandrake the Mischievous was peeved. Ever since their meeting with Mildred, the little imp had been plagued with the unsettling itch of a feeling that, despite appearances, all was not going according to plan. Now, with his sharp eyes fixed on Gargamel's despairing face, Mandrake realized exactly what was wrong. And even worse, he realized the problem lay entirely with him.

Averting his eyes from the shattered wizard's blotchy mug, he growled, scuffing his shoe in the dirt. Here he had come up with one of the most brilliantly entertaining schemes of his entire nefarious career. He had carefully chosen the perfect victim. He had gone through enormous magical strain and exertion to drag that victim to various points along a might-have-been timeline. And now that his scheme had reached its climax, now that his victim was writhing with the knowledge that he had wasted his life, did he get his expected payoff? Was his little heart giddy with gleeful smarm?

Hardly. Mandrake felt peeved. Peeved, annoyed, irritated, irked, and above all piqued. And why?

Because somehow, somewhere along the line, the selfish little imp had actually started to pity the pathetic excuse for a wizard. He felt bad for the overstuffed fathead, and now that he seemed to have given up entirely, messing with Gargamel's head had suddenly ceased to be fun.

Mandrake groaned and rubbed his eyes hard with the heels of his palms.

"Good grief," he grumbled to himself. "I must be going soft in my old age." Looking up, he snapped, "All right, Gargamel, that's enough. The game isn't over yet."

Gargamel frowned down at him with a sloppy sniff. "Don't tell me there's more," he croaked. "You've already proved that everyone I know is better off without me. What further torment could you have in store?"

Mandrake set his jaw, hardly believing it was him saying this, but feeling he had to just the same.

"Gargamel, shut up. There might still be a chance—but I refuse to help you if you don't stop that whining."

"Help me?" Gargamel was incredulous. "But you're the one who brought me here! You should be gloating, taunting me. Isn't that why you set all this up?"

Mandrake glared. "Don't tempt me, fool," he snapped. "Just listen. Do you remember at the start of this crazy trip, I asked you where you wanted to go and you said—"

"Excuse me?"

Annoyed by the interruption, Mandrake spun around only to take a step back in surprise when he saw who had spoken. Gargamel, for his part, looked like he had just swallowed a live wasp.

"A—Azrael?"

Gargamel's voice was hoarse, hesitant, and suspicious all at once. He stared at the slender brunette, noting her sharp, feline eyes, her unkempt hair, the knowing smirk that seemed to be a permanent fixture of her face.

"Azrael, is that you?"

The woman's eyes narrowed, but seemed to soften somewhat when she saw the real pain in the balding little man's expression. "The name's Catherine, actually," she said with an apologetic shrug. "But my friends call me Cat. One of Gabe's bad jokes."

She winked, and Gargamel swallowed. It really was her. This woman was his cat—his Azrael with a different name, a different…everything, really. It was almost too much for the distraught wizard to take.

Misinterpreting his sudden pallor, Cat took him by the arm, clearly concerned. "You poor man," she said. "Here I am gabbing away and you're about ready to faint from hunger. I know what it's like to be on the road. A hearty meal would be just the thing to perk you up. Come with me. You too." She glanced at Mandrake, who was scowling up at her with his tiny hands on his green-clad hips. Despite his annoyance, however, he followed when she began to lead Gargamel away.

"Hey, Gabe!" she shouted as the little group approached the rickety wagon. "I picked up a couple of strays!"

Both Mandrake and Gargamel bristled at that, but Cat didn't seem to notice—or, if she did, she wasn't bothered. A moment later, the wagon's wooden door burst open and Cat's gangly companion stuck his head out to beam at them.

"Ah, guests!" His grin was nearly as wild as his hay-colored hair, but his blue eyes were almost frightening in their intensity. Looking at him now, it was impossible for even Gargamel to doubt that they were in the presence of a genuine enchanter. The shrunken wizard seemed to shrink even further under his powerful gaze.

Apparently amused by Gargamel's discomfort, the enchanter's grin broadened. "Come in, come in, come in!" he beckoned enthusiastically. "Always room for hungry travelers. Stew's already stewing—Cat, would you set the table?"

Gargamel shot the enchanter a scornful glare. "Do you seriously expect us all to fit in that ramshackle wagon of yours? The miserable thing looks like it'll collapse under the weight."

Gabe raised an eyebrow. "Nice company you've picked," he smirked at Cat, who shot him a rather arch look before climbing past him. "A skeptic and…what are you?" He hopped down from the wagon to peer at Mandrake in open fascination. "An imp? Is that right?"

"Mandrake the Mischievous," the little imp stated stiffly. The enchanter beamed.

"Ah! That would explain a lot!" He clapped his hands in delight. "Oh, I am looking forward to chatting with you. Both of you." Clamping a firm hand on Gargamel's shoulder, he grinned a grin that allowed for no argument. "Inside, please. I insist."

The interior of Gabriel's wagon was impossible. It was like stepping into a big, cozy house, complete with carpets on the wooden floors and drapes over the windows—windows Gargamel was certain he hadn't seen from the outside of the wagon. The failed wizard stared around in disbelief from his seat at the enchanter's table, completely flabbergasted.

"Erm, tell me, Mr. Enchanter," he said at last, using his most obsequious tone. "How is it that this wagon is so much larger on the inside?"

Gabe smiled at him over his bowl of steaming stew.

"Simple," he said, his eyes twinkling smugly. "It's magic."

Mandrake scowled from his own seat. At the enchanter's insistence the imp had assumed the human form he'd used when he'd first encountered Gargamel at the marketplace. "So much easier that way," Gabe had said. "I always prefer being able to look my guests in the eye when I'm talking to them. When there's an option." The moody imp had been resentfully glaring at him ever since.

"Don't bother asking him anything," Mandrake scorned. "Enchanters are all alike. All you get is simplistic nonsense and double talk."

"Aw, that's not true," Gabe pouted through his ever-present smile. "You also get questions. Lots and lots of questions. Here's a sample: What's an obviously powerful imp like you doing with a loser like him?"

"Hey!" Gargamel started, only to trail off sharply when Gabe fixed him with his impossibly intense eyes. Cat shot him a sympathetic look from across the table, but that only seemed to make the wizard more uncomfortable.

"Gargamel and I have a bargain," Mandrake stated, staring straight at Gabe. "I've agreed to stock his larder for a year if he can prove to me that his life has had even a modicum of worth."

Gabe raised an amused eyebrow. "And why would you make a bargain like that?"

"Because I didn't think he could do it," Mandrake retorted.

"So you brought him to this reality—a reality where I assume he does not exist?"

Mandrake nodded. Gabe smirked.

"See Cat?" he grinned, nudging his companion in the arm. "This explains that peculiar twinge I've been getting all day. Told you something was about that didn't belong. And here they walk straight to our door!"

"Hmm," Cat said with a thoughtful glance at Gargamel. Gabe turned his grin back on Mandrake.

"I can't allow you stay here, you know," he said with false lightness. "You don't belong."

"I know that," Mandrake snapped irritably. "I'm not some dumb meddling human. I'm an expert in this kind of thing."

"And I am an enforcer of magical law," the enchanter retorted, his broad smile taking on a threatening twist. Gargamel cringed despite himself. "This prank of yours has gone on long enough. Your presence here is causing dangerous ripples, and I won't have it."

Mandrake's turquoise eyes darkened dangerously. "That is precisely why I hate enchanters," he sneered. "Arrogant pests, that's all you are, sucking the fun out of all the best schemes. But I am an imp. You have no authority over me. I can do what I like. If that bothers you, makes you feel all twingy, well guess what. I don't care! Besides," he added, suddenly flippant as he lounged back in his chair. "This pathetic loser and I were just getting ready to leave your precious reality when your cat here interrupted us. So in actuality, it's you that's keeping us here. The prank's over, isn't that right Gargamel?"

"Is it?" Gargamel blinked, ducking slightly in an awkward attempt to avoid the enchanter's burning gaze.

"Oh yes," Mandrake nodded, sliding his eyes over to Cat. "And I'll let you tell us why."

"Who, me?" Cat asked, clearly caught off guard. "How should I know?"

"Tell me," the imp smirked. "Have you ever heard of the Smurfs? Little blue-skinned creatures with big, round ears? Stand about three apples high? Like to sing songs so insipidly cheerful they literally make your teeth ache?"

Gargamel stared at Mandrake in confusion, but Cat just frowned. "Yeah, I think…" She turned to her enchanter. "Gabe, you've mentioned Smurfs before, haven't you? When we were passing those farms a few days ago. You said all that land had once belonged to the Smurfs."

Gabe nodded, his smile now merely a shadow. "The Smurfs were the caretakers of the forest," he said grimly, "until the human town began to expand. They chopped down the forest and plowed up the land. As far as anyone knows, the Smurfs were wiped out."

"They did put up a fight, though," Cat added. "Didn't you say some of the humans had reported seeing ghosts and things? That must have been the Smurfs, trying to scare the woodcutters away." She frowned again. "They were only three apples high, you say?"

Gargamel nodded, spying something in her expression that made him smile. "That's about the size of a plump rat, wouldn't you say…Catherine?"

Cat shot him a toothy grin from across the table, her feline eyes gleaming. "Yeah, right. A plump rat." She licked her thin lips. "Too bad they're all dead. I would have liked to know what Smurf tastes like."

"Cat!" Gabe exclaimed with deeply disapproving look. Cat only glanced at him and flicked back her unruly hair, making a show of taking no notice before shooting another little grin at Gargamel. Mandrake didn't bother to hide his smirk. Even in an alternate reality, those two were still a perfectly matched pair.

"So there you have it," the imp stated. "In a nutshell. Without Gargamel, the Smurfs die out. Oh, there are a few desperate stragglers still out there, still fighting the fight, but they won't last much longer. Not against the progress of humanity. And that's why we were going back. The bargain's lost."

"What?" Gargamel exclaimed. "But I don't understand!"

"Yeah, me neither," Cat spoke up. "Are you saying that the Smurfs are still alive in your reality?"

Mandrake's smirk broadened. "They most certainly are."

Cat tilted her head, still confused. "Because of Gargamel?"

"That's right!" The green-clad imp grinned with wicked glee as Gargamel stiffened in his chair, his beady eyes blazing with outrage. At last, Mandrake cackled to himself, his long-awaited payoff was at hand.

"That's slander!" the failed wizard was shouting, his blotchy face beginning to purple. "I've spent my life trying to capture the Smurfs! And now, you're saying they're only alive because of me! Preposterous!"

"Perhaps. But it's true," Mandrake grinned. "Isn't it deliciously ironic, though. You know, I'm starting to think it might have been worth it to lose that bet just to know that you now owe your continued existence to the Smurfs as much as they owe their lives to you."

"But I still don't understand," Cat frowned. "Why do the Smurfs owe their lives to Gargamel?"

"Because, my dear Cat," Mandrake smirked smugly, "Gargamel is deeply loathed by the humans of the town. They wouldn't go near his hovel, even armed with pitchforks and torches. They hate him so much that the thought of expanding into the forest won't even cross their minds as long as he continues to inhabit that tumble-down granite heap of his. Therefore, the Smurf community is safe as long as he lives."

Gargamel glared, his eyes wide and hard. "If that's the case," he snapped. "Then I'm not going back! Let the little blue vermin rot without me! I'm staying here!"

"You can't do that," Gabe stated dangerously. "According to the laws of magic, you do not exist here. You have to go back to your own world, or face the consequences."

"What consequences?" Gargamel demanded.

"Complete elimination," the enchanter answered simply, his blue eyes glistening with power. Gargamel swallowed.

"Hey wait, that's not fair!" Cat broke in. "There has to be some other way this man's life has had meaning. Then, when he goes back, he can return in spite of the Smurfs, not because of them!"

Gargamel stared at her. "In spite of the Smurfs?" he repeated, clearly intrigued by the idea. "Yes… Yes! I'll return for spite." He cackled out loud, rubbing his hands together in vicious glee. "They may owe their lives to me, but I can see to it that they won't enjoy them. I'll have the Smurfs in my stewpot yet! Can't you just see it, Azrael—"

He cut himself off, deflating dramatically when his beady eyes fell on Cat. "Oh…erm…" he cleared his throat awkwardly. Cat tilted her head with a curious, sympathetic look.

"Gargamel," she said, "who is this 'Azrael' you keep referring to?"

"Azrael?" Gargamel repeated. "Oh, she's my cat."

Cat's eyes flashed at that, and she turned a slightly guilty look on Gabe. "Your cat," she nodded slowly. "I see. She must mean a lot to you."

"Yes," Gargamel sniffed with an awkward sort of dignity. "Yes, she does."

Cat nodded again, tentatively reaching out to take Gargamel's clenched hand. "And I'll bet you mean a lot to her."

The balding little man shrugged, a warm flush beginning to rise up his pale face as he looked at their clasped hands.

"I don't know," he mumbled. "She's a cat. Not a…a human, like you."

"I am not a human!" Cat snarled, baring her teeth angrily. "Gabe just wanted a companion, someone he could talk to and who could talk back. That's all I am to him. I'm not his pet. I'm not even his friend. Not really. Enchanters don't have friends."

Gargamel frowned. "But outside…when I saw the two of you laughing together, you looked so happy…"

Cat shrugged. "Oh, we have some good times, sure. But he's not the type to scratch a cat between the ears, or brush the tangles from its fur. And if I even so much as look at a mouse, he gets all disapproving." She shot her enchanter an accusing look, which he returned with a surprisingly broad smile.

"Cat, my girl," he said, "I think you've just hit upon the solution! Gargamel cares for his cat! He provides for Azrael's happiness and well being. Surely that is a worthwhile effort, wouldn't you say, Mandrake?"

"Doesn't matter to me," the imp smirked, reaching over to sprinkle the wizard's balding pate with the last crumbs of his dried debris. "I've already gotten what I was after. Say goodbye, Gargamel. We're leaving!"

"But—but I," Gargamel sputtered.

"I'll say it then," Cat smirked, crushing the slightly taller wizard in a quick hug. "Goodbye, Gargamel. Say hi to your cat for me." She released him with a fierce grin, her feline eyes glinting. "Oh, and if I happen to spot any Smurfs scurrying around—"

"No," Gabe interrupted, clamping a hand on her shoulder with a firm smile. "There'll be no Smurf hunting. Is that understood?"

"Of course, Gabe," she smiled back, only to slide her eyes over to Gargamel, flashing him a quick, predatory wink just as he and Mandrake faded away in a silent whirlwind of magic, spinning back to their own reality.

Two weeks later, Gargamel was flipping through an old, yellowed cookbook while Azrael stalked a mouse across the uneven, stone floor. For the first time in far, far, far too long a time, there were enough crumbs littering the hovel floor to bring the curious mice in from the fields, and Azrael was determined to make the most of the opportunity.

"So, what do you think for tonight, Azrael?" Gargamel spoke up with a smile. "How does poached trout with oven roasted vegetables sound to you?"

Azrael glanced up from her mouse-hunt to lick her lips hungrily. "Mreah!" she mewed enthusiastically, her crooked tail twitching. Gargamel cackled and reached down to scratch the scraggly cat between the ears, just the way she liked. Azrael, for her part, deigned to rub her cheek against his palm before slinking away to find another mouse to terrify.

As she went, she snickered to think that Gargamel had actually done something right for once. Whatever had happened in that might-have-been world, the larder was now full to bursting and Gargamel was paying her more attention than ever before. Perhaps, she reflected as she extended her claws in preparation for a pounce, her human wasn't as worthless as she had thought.

The End

Hi and Happy New Year! Well, that's the end of this story. I really hope you enjoyed it! Thanks so much for all your reviews, and thanks especially to you, Octaveleap, for your fantastic artwork! It's been terrific fun writing this story for you all!

See you around!

-Rowena Zahnrei