Chapter 6
Chapter six
Being bossed around by a cat, with the last of the silvery moonlight filtering through my window had not been on my bingo card. But then, none of the last few days had.
“Why do I have to stand on one leg and stare at the moon?” I’d wobbled so much during the first tries, my shin resembled one giant bruise because I’d collided with the sofa on which my taskmaster reclined.
“So that you master the art of concentration.” He smoothed his whiskers with an elegant movement.
I glared at him. I was tired and my leg hurt. “Are there many cats of your kind out there or are the rest of the felines in Willowmere ordinary cats, the kind who appreciate what their humans do for them?”
Did he roll his green eyes at me? “There are no ordinary cats, and even if there were, I wouldn’t be one of them.”
I tried to make sense of that answer. “How many witches and familiars am I dealing with here? Can you give me at least a ballpark figure? A small coven or should I book a large marquee for the reunion?”
“You’re grouchy.”
“It’s still the night for me. I haven’t had breakfast, and I’m really struggling to cope with all this.” I made a sweeping gesture and promptly lost my footing. Again.
My feline master pushed himself half upright. “Concentrate.”
“On what? Balancing? I can do that during normal hours.”
“It’s the moon that matters.”
“Great. Then can we please continue this tonight? And can you maybe also throw in a little bit of information? Pretend I am totally clueless.” In all fairness, that was an accurate description of my current state of being, which included being bossed around by a black cat with a ridiculous last name. So much for the new, independent me.
Still, I was fulfilling Aunt Violet’s wishes.
At least I hoped so. I wish she’d let me into the family secret while she was alive or at least had left a letter with Louisa’s firm.
“Dear whoever the cat has picked, you’re destined to become my follower in the arcane arts and shall henceforth be taking your instructions from said feline who is your familiar.
He might tell you it’s the other way around.
Humor him. He’s got sharp claws. Yours, Aunt Violet”
Cosmo growled. “You’re not paying attention.”
“Sorry.” I left both my feet firmly on the ground and rubbed the sore leg. “What powers do you really have, apart from spotting a susceptible human a country mile away?”
“As in, me personally, or all cats?”
“You all have special talents?” I didn’t want to be so cruel as to add that they didn’t appear to help the many cats who were forced to live on the streets or had their existence cut short.
“All of us. Only in some, the power of the purr is sadly diluted.”
“The power of the purr. It has a nice ring to it.”
“You don’t believe it?” He fixed his gaze upon me. A low noise reached my ears. It was the most mellow, relaxing … no. My body might grow all soft and ready to fall into a snooze, but my mind was too strong.
That was my last conscious thought, until the sun rose, and my phone beeped.
“Do you believe me now?” Cosmo groomed his paw with a nonchalance I’d never seen outside of a movie theater.
“The discussion isn’t over. If you want to keep everything but your purr a secret from me, that’s fine. But I think I deserve a heads-up about my new abilities.”
“I’d give you one, if we’d already established that. Which is why you’d better hurry and move us back home.”
I left him with a dish of canned chicken while I went down for breakfast. I had more than just food to chew over without his distracting company.
Harper awaited me with fresh coffee, golden brown pancakes with a side of bacon, and the company of our missing musketeer.
Ange, co-owner of a craft studio where she created Christmas baubles, jewelry, and good luck charms from hand-blown glass, kissed me on both cheeks.
No air kisses for her. “That blue hair looks the bee’s knees on you. A real pick-me-up.”
Harper and I chuckled. As long as I could remember, Ange had come up with slightly off and yet spot-on phrases. She’d been the first of us to marry, the first to divorce, and was now blissfully wedded to one of the nicest men I’d met.
“Nick says, if there’s anything you need, give him a buzz. As for me, I’m at your service.” She rolled up her sleeves, before the cuff of her work shirt fell onto her plate.
“That’s sweet, but Louisa’s in charge.”
“She’ll be fine. I’m a Belle and I’ll badger her.”
I blinked in confusion, until Ange mimed throwing a bowling ball.
“I’m coming too. The bar’s closed until evening anyway,” Harper said.
I put a hand on the table, carefully avoiding the plates and mugs. Harper put hers on top, and Ange came last. Like old times. We lifted our hands together. “The crazy coven’s back together,” Ange declared.
“Crazy coven forever,” Harper and I chimed in. It took a few heartbeats until the full meaning sank in. Was this only a nickname my aunt had given us ages ago, or had I been part of a real coven all along? I needed to have a long heart-to-heart with my furry mentor.
With three people taking stock in the small kitchen, private bathroom and powder room for the library users, our inventory progressed so fast I had trouble keeping up with the typing.
The printer chugged out page after page with library book listings, and Cosmo napped in front of the old fireplace.
Aunt Violet had converted it to an electric fire – a sensible precaution in a room surrounded by books and frequented by children.
My fingers cramped when I listed the last item as “one wood footstool, upholstered in green and gold striped fabric, from the Atlas furniture company”.
I’d restored the piece with my very own hands, after I’d left college half-way through an art history degree.
She’d brought it down here to put her feet up during her final notetaking of the day.
The fabric had worn thin where her slippered heels had rubbed on it, night after night.
“We’re done.” Louisa stacked the library list, scrolled through my spreadsheets and gave me a swift pat on the shoulder. “The rest of probate should be a breeze.”
“When are you going to pick up the items she left to her friends?” I asked. The footstool was on the list. It’d go to Jimmy. Her neighbor Jake was supposed to inherit her collection of vintage plant holders. Since he’d passed away before her, I assumed they’d return to the estate.
Food poisoning was a horrible way to go, I thought, if the rumors I overheard last night were right. At least Aunt Violet had simply slipped away in her sleep. Unexpected, and sad, but peaceful. That was a comfort.
“Shall we get you installed in your old room or –” Harper broke off.
“At least for now. Thanks.” I’d packed in the morning, and she’d promised to deliver my luggage plus Cosmo’s basket, blankets, and toys later in her van.
I closed the door behind Louisa, Ange, and Harper with a sense of foreboding. It was done. Cosmo and I had returned. Now I had to take the next steps to become a witch.
The cat jumped up on the windowsill in the library and peered out to watch the cars drive off.
“Follow me.” He sailed onto the desk two feet away, and from there, onto the row of low kids’ bookcases, until he reached the farthest bookcase at the back.
The shelves were so deep, he sprawled in front of the books at chin height for me. I’d never noticed them before.
“Ok? This is a bookcase,” I said, stating the obvious.
Cosmo stretched and pulled out a book with his claws. I jumped back as the bookcase swung open, to reveal a secret room.
“Welcome to your lair.”