Page 92 of Cats Never Fly

Thetroll snarled and snapped at me, blocking my path toOgden.Wherehad she come from?Itobviously hadn’t taken her long to lock the back door.Shekicked out at me, butIdodged her foot.

ThenIwas at the cage.Ogdenwas right there.Afterexpending his magic, he had slumped against the bars, not moving except for the steady rise and fall of his chest.Throwingthat electricity-charged shot at the bear had exhausted him.Buthe was safe and in one piece, and that’s what mattered.Hewas right on the other side of those stupid magic-covered bars, andIwould get him out.Iclawed at the cage, but the door wouldn’t budge.Ofcourse it wouldn’t.Iknew that.Ogdenhad said as much when he’d talked about the stupid cages.

Therehad to be a key somewhere.Ihad to find it.

Thetroll shuffled sluggishly toward me.Iwas confidentIcould dodge her again.Butwhat ifIwas mistaken, and she caught me under her foot?That’dbe at least one more life gone.

Butif she had the key…

Ihad five brothers.Ihadn’t done everything they’d done, but it would have been impossible not to pick up a few things from them over the years.They’dforced me to learn to climb trees when they chased me up them.They’dforced me to learn to steal back my belongings when they stole from me.They’dforced me to do things even whenIdidn’t want to.

Andright now, asIeyed that troll,IhopedI’dlearned enough.

Ihad to get the timing right.Sheswayed with each step.Herarms swung.Everythingwas so predictable and rhythmic.Anothershuffling step.Anotherswing.And… there!Go!

Ijumped on the troll.Isank my claws into her pockets and pulled as hard asIcould.Myclaws sliced through the fabric.Valascreamed, but like all trolls, she wasn’t agile.Ijumped away.I’ddamaged her pockets, but they weren’t open yet.Igritted my teeth.

Icould do this.

Ihadto do this.

Idid the same thing again.Thistime, the fabric gaped open to reveal… nothing.

Absolutelynothing dropped out of the troll’s pockets.Nota thing.Howdid someone go through life with nothing in their pockets?Shouldn’tshe at least have a cellphone or a favorite pebble?

“I’llget you, you little bastard,” the troll shouted.Shespun away and stalked off.Ididn’t know where she was going, butIwasn’t about to call her back.

Iglanced around the room.Themage and the demon weren’t there; all that remained were the bear, who still hadn’t moved, and the human, aka the troll’s pet, akaEdgar.Notthat it mattered ifIknew his name.Weweren’t destined to be friends.

Ieyed him from top to bottom.Hewas an average height, an average build.Hedidn’t appear athletic.Icould handle him, right?Hewas a human.Inmy shifted form,Imight only be a slightly chunky house cat, butIwas still a supe.

“Fuckoff,” the human said, waving his hands at me like he was trying to shoo me away. “Goon.”

Hisfront pocket was bulging… and no,Iwasn’t checking out his junk.Andif his junk was that lumpy and weird looking, he had a big problem.Thatbulge had to be keys.Ibounded toward the human and clawed at his pocket.Hebatted at me, butIdug in and hung on.Thefabric gave way.Amongstthe coins were a fancy pocketknife, a packet of gum, and a comb, but no keys.

Ijumped away and shrieked my frustration.

Whycouldn’t this be easy?

Andthen, suddenly, it got worse.

Themage and demon were in the doorway.Thelight from the bright day made them look like dark and featureless silhouettes as they raced inside.Well, the mage ran.Thedemon looked like he was just being dragged along by the mage.

“Sealthe door, demon,” the mage demanded. “We’lldefend from here.”

Solon’sbody took his demon form right in front of my eyes.Blackwings sprouted from his back, his fingertips changed to black claws, and his eyes turned red.Hisskin wasn’t black likeI’dthought whenI’dseen him on the roof, but a deep dark burgundy.Itreminded me of dried blood.Mytail puffed up asIhissed at the intimidating creature, but he wasn’t looking at me.Hewas eyeing the mage.

Hismuscles bulged and rippled like he was fighting against a command.

Huh?

Oh!

Thisdemon hadn’t snapped.Hewasn’t one of those wild ones that inspired scary campfire stories.I’dbet anything the mage had trapped him in the same way the whistle could have done withOgden.Therehad been another whistle missing, right?Andwhen coupled with theCovenofOnering, the demon wouldn’t have escaped.

Hewasn’t the instigator.Hewas an unwilling participant, a victim.

Itwas hurting him to fight the mage’s order.Mystomach rolled.Howcould anyone do that to another person?Wasthat whatOgdenhad thoughtI’ddo to him whenIsummoned him?Bileshot up the back of my throat.Icouldn’t.Iwouldn’t.Never.