Catalyst

by Sarah Beth Durst

  Zoe was so excited she didn’t even notice that the sun had dried her out. She didn’t care that they hadn’t eaten breakfast. She even forgot that she hadn’t peed since she woke.

  Every once in a while, Pipsqueak lost the trail, when dirt switched to rocks or when they had to hop across one of the zillion streams. But then she found it again.

  “If you were a wolf, you could howl, and then he’d come find you,” Harrison said.

  Pipsqueak tried out a yowl. It sounded as if she were being squeezed. She cut off mid-screech. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”

  “You could call out,” Zoe suggested. “You know, with words, not howls.” She shouted, “Hello, other giant cat! Are you out there? We want to meet you!”

  Pipsqueak joined her. “Hello! Where are you?”

  And Harrison: “We’re friendly!”

  Zoe shouted, “Come be our friend!”

  Harrison broke off shouting. “Really? ‘Come be our friend’? That’s what you went with?”

  “Well, we want to be his or her friend, don’t we?” Zoe said. Pipsqueak obviously wanted to meet someone like herself. And Zoe had bunches of questions she wanted to ask.

  “Yeah, but isn’t that a little too . . . I don’t know. Needy?”

  “It worked with you.” Grinning, she elbowed him. When she first met Harrison, they were in kindergarten. According to their parents, at recess one day, shortly after borrowing his green crayon, Zoe had marched up to him and said, You should be my friend. Harrison had studied her quietly for a little while, then supposedly said, Okay. Zoe didn’t specifically remember this, but she’d been told the story so many times that it felt true.

  Funny how it only takes a single moment to change so much. If she hadn’t become friends with Harrison . . . Well, a lot would be different. She’d taken a risk then and won a best friend. She hoped the risk they were taking now would pay off too.

  “Fair enough,” he said, then shouted, “Be our friend!”

  When that didn’t work, they continued to follow the track silently until Pipsqueak halted.

  “What is it?” Zoe asked.

  “The tracks . . . They stop.”

  Harrison got out the map. “So if that’s this mountain . . . And if we’re facing north, which we are, given the sun . . .” He squinted at it and then looked up at the empty clearing. “We’re here.”

  “We are?” Taking the map from him, Zoe stared at it and then handed it back. He stared at it too, twisted it sideways, then upside down.

  “Yeah, this is it,” he said.

  “I know,” Zoe said.

  “It’s, um, not really anywhere.”

  “I know.” She tried to ignore the worry that was clawing its way into her throat. If the map led nowhere . . . If there were no answers to be found and no help to be had . . . But Aunt Alecia promised, she thought. She had to trust that.

  Beneath them, Pipsqueak shifted. “Are you sure this is right?” The cat sat down, and Zoe and Harrison, with their packs, slid down her fur to the ground.

  “This is where the map says to go,” Zoe said, hearing her voice waver. She saw nothing but more trees. Mostly pine trees. A few of those white-bark trees. And a lot of rocks. But that was no different from the rest of New Hampshire.

  Kermit the Dog trotted past them as if he smelled something. “Ooh, ooh, ooh!” Wagging his tail, he sniffed a rock.

  Maybe they’d misread the map and missed the location, and Kermit sensed that. Maybe he could lead them there! “What did you find?” All of them stared at Kermit, waiting for him to bark or chase after a scent or do something.

  He lifted his hind leg and peed on the rock.

  “That was less helpful than I expected,” Harrison commented.

  From his perch on Pipsqueak’s head, Buttermouse flapped his wings and rose into the air, wobbling in the breeze and then righting himself. He had continued to change colors. In addition to his blue, green, and purple belly, he now sported a pink snout, red ears, and a yellow and orange neck.

  “Nice colors,” Harrison said.

  Buttermouse twisted in the air to admire himself. “Oooh, I’m even more beautiful!”

  Zoe listened to the forest. She heard wind rustling the leaves but nothing . . . Wait, maybe she did hear something. “Aunt Alecia?” she called.

  “Do you think she’s here?” Harrison said. “She didn’t say she would be. She just said we’d find help here.” He turned in a slow circle, scanning the forest. “I don’t see any help.”

  Pipsqueak let out a plaintive “Mew!”

  Zoe hadn’t heard her meow in a while. She put her arms around Pipsqueak’s neck. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure out what to do. I promise somehow we’ll find a way to change you back.”

  Kermit barked. “Stranger!”

  All of them tensed and turned as a woman stepped out of the woods. She looked a bit like Mom, the same eyes and nose, but she had a pointier chin and pointier cheekbones.

  Aunt Alecia!

  “Change her back?” Aunt Alecia said. “Why on earth would you want to do that?”

   Chapter 16

  ZOE HOPPED OFF THE ROCK. “Aunt Alecia?”

  Circling her, Kermit sniffed. “She smells nice.”

  “Thank you, dear.” Aunt Alecia bent to pat him on the head, but he skittered out of the way. She didn’t look either surprised or offended by that. She smiled at Zoe and held her arms out. “Zoe, you’ve grown since I last saw you! Happy twelfth birthday! I’m sorry I wasn’t there to celebrate with you.”

  Zoe ran to her aunt and hugged her. “How are you here?”

  “I heard reports of an unusual animal, and I came to help it find its way to Sanctuary.” She said the word Sanctuary as if it were the name of a place, like a town. “If I’d known when you were coming, I would have waited for you, but I didn’t even know if you were coming. Where’s your mother?” She looked around the clearing. “Evie? Show yourself!”

  “It’s just us,” Zoe said. “This is my friend Harrison, and this is Pipsqueak.” She went around, introducing everyone. “We came because—”

  “Your mother isn’t here?” Aunt Alecia’s face fell. She looked so disappointed that Zoe felt terrible, and then her aunt’s eyes widened. “Did you children travel all the way here on your own? Do your parents know where you are? How did you get here?”

  “Really long story, but first, please, we need your help with Pipsqueak!” Zoe said.

  “And we’re hoping for answers,” Harrison put in.

  Pipsqueak stepped forward, crunching a bush. “Zoe’s aunt . . . Could you tell me why I’ve grown so much? Am I going to grow more? Why is this happening to me?”

  “And me?” Buttermouse asked, doing a figure-eight loop in the air. “What did I do to earn such glory?”

  “Yeah, why did Buttermouse sprout wings?” Harrison jumped in. “And why does Kermit have shark teeth, green fur, and extra tails?”

  “Why can we talk?” Pipsqueak asked. “And read?”

  “Ooh, we can read?” Buttermouse asked. “I want to read! That sounds fun!”

  “It’s as wonderful as wings,” Pipsqueak told him.

  Aunt Alecia studied them. She opened her mouth as if to answer, and then she glanced up at the sun. It was still high in the sky, flooding the mountains and forest with light. “We have time for a proper explanation. And tea. Let’s make a fire. Rest yourselves, and I will answer every question I can.” She lowered the bag on her back to the ground. “Could you help me gather wood? I’ll also need stones to keep the campfire safely contained.”

  Kermit the Dog loved that idea. He raced around the woods, fetching every stick he could find. Harrison joined in, collecting rocks and twigs.

  Zoe helped too, but she couldn’t stop herself from getting more and more nervous. She trusted her aunt, but what about the explanation was so big that it required them to sit down and have tea? Maybe it’s just a long explanation, she thought. Or . . . it could be an ups
etting one.

  “I found sticks for s’mores!” Harrison announced.

  “Excellent,” Aunt Alecia said with approval. “But I don’t have marshmallows or any of the other ingredients.”

  Harrison rummaged through his pack. “That’s okay! I do!”

  “Wait—you have more food in there, and we didn’t eat it?” Zoe said. She knew he hadn’t picked up s’more supplies at Aunt Alecia’s. He must have brought them from home, which meant he’d had them the whole time, even when they were so low on food that they’d risked stopping at the country store.

  “You can’t eat raw s’mores,” Harrison said as he tossed out a bag of marshmallows, a box of graham crackers, and several Hershey bars.

  He’d been lugging all of that since Massachusetts? “Harrison! You can absolutely eat ‘raw’ marshmallows, crackers, and chocolate!”

  “But then they’re not s’mores,” Harrison explained patiently. He helped Aunt Alecia build a pyramid of sticks in the center of the circle of rocks, and soon they had a fire going.

  All the animals crowded around it as Zoe joined Harrison and Aunt Alecia. “All right,” Zoe said. “We’re calm. We’re sitting down. Can you please tell us what’s going on with Pipsqueak? And all of them?” She tried to keep her voice as steady and even as possible, but she’d already waited so long! She just wanted to know, regardless of whether it was good or bad! What had happened to her friends? Why had they all transformed? And how could they change them back so that Pipsqueak could come home with her and be safe? “Please, Aunt Alecia, what’s wrong with Pipsqueak, and how do we fix it?”

  A marshmallow in her hand, Aunt Alecia sighed, sounding exactly like Mom. “There is nothing wrong with your cat. She’s become exactly who she was always meant to be.”

  Pipsqueak looked as confused as Zoe felt. “But . . . But cats aren’t supposed to be the size of elephants,” Pipsqueak said. “I’ve read biology textbooks. I know I’m unusual.”

  “Most cats stay significantly smaller,” Aunt Alecia agreed. “And if you’d never met Zoe, you most likely would have stayed the size of an ordinary cat. Zoe changed you.”

  “Me?” Zoe squeaked.

  Beside her, Harrison sputtered, “Wh-what?”

  “I didn’t do anything!” Zoe said. That was absurd. She didn’t know how to make a cat grow so fast. This makes no sense! “What about the mouse and the dog?”

  “They changed after they met you, didn’t they? All it required was your proximity. And, of course, your twelfth birthday.” Aunt Alecia slid her marshmallow on a stick and held it out to Zoe. Automatically Zoe took it. “Relax, have a s’more, and I’ll explain.”

  Buttermouse switched from Harrison’s shoulder to Zoe’s. He laid a tiny paw on Zoe’s cheek, as if trying to comfort her. Her thoughts seemed to be swirling faster than a whirlpool. She was glad no one was speaking right now. She needed to try to think. As though sensing her spinning thoughts, Kermit cuddled closer to her, and Pipsqueak wrapped her tail around her.

  Aunt Alecia poured water from a canteen into a small kettle and nestled it near the fire. She then accepted another marshmallow from Harrison. The flames licked over the thicker twigs, spreading into a nice-size campfire.

  Harrison stuck a marshmallow onto his own stick. “The key is don’t put it into the flame. Hold it near the flame until it browns and bubbles.” He sounded overly cheerful, as if he were trying not to freak out, or were trying to keep Zoe from freaking out.

  She only half heard him. Making s’mores was the furthest thing on her mind. What Aunt Alecia had said . . . It didn’t make sense. How can I have changed any of them? “Aunt Alecia . . .”

  “You’re a Catalyst,” Aunt Alecia told her.

  “A what?” Zoe asked.

  Pipsqueak nudged her with her nose. “You’re a Cat-alyst,” she said. “A Cat. A list.”

  “But . . . what does that mean?”

  “A catalyst,” Harrison said, “is something that causes change. Right?” He stared at Pipsqueak and Kermit. “You did this, Zoe?”

  Zoe shook her head. “It wasn’t me. I’d know if I did this.” Then she studied Aunt Alecia’s face. She didn’t look as if she were joking. “Wouldn’t I?”

  Aunt Alecia shook her head. “Your powers aren’t conscious; they’re a part of you. They flow through your veins as naturally as blood—”

  Harrison looked as if he wanted to cheer. “She has powers? Like magic? Zoe, this is awesome! What kind of magical powers? Wait—that’s obvious. You have cat-embiggening powers. And dog greening? Unusual, yes, but still awesome . . .”

  “This can’t be possible,” Zoe said. “What—”

  Lunging forward, Harrison caught Zoe’s wrist and lifted her marshmallow stick out of the fire. Half the marshmallow was blackened. “Here, eat mine.” He held out a perfectly browned marshmallow. “You put it between graham crackers and a few squares of chocolate.”

  “Harrison, I really don’t—”

  “It’s fine. I like burnt.”

  “No!” Zoe sucked in air and tried to stay calm. She felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes. This was just too much. “Aunt Alecia, please. I don’t understand. How could I be this . . . a ‘Catalyst’? I don’t have ‘powers’!”

  “Yes, you do. Your animal friends are proof of it,” Aunt Alecia said. “I know it’s a lot. Take a minute to absorb.” Aunt Alecia poured her tea into a mug, took graham crackers and chocolate, and made a s’more. Harrison did the same, handing the s’more to Zoe before making one for himself out of the burnt marshmallow.

  “I don’t want a s’more!” Zoe didn’t understand how they could be acting so calm about this. Aunt Alecia had just dropped the hugest bombshell in her lap and now was pouring herself tea and making campfire snacks? Zoe wanted to scream in frustration.

  Before she could, Pipsqueak leaned over the fire and said to Aunt Alecia, “You’re scaring my friend, and that is not okay. I will drool on all your snacks if you don’t explain more.” She held up her paw and extended her claws. “And pop your marshmallows.”

  Zoe laughed. She couldn’t help it. It was the most ridiculous, most perfect threat. And one of the nicest things anyone had ever said on her behalf. “Thank you, Pipsqueak.” She crossed her arms and glared at her aunt.

  Aunt Alecia put down her tea and her s’more. “I was trying to give you a moment to adjust, but very well. Magic doesn’t exist in this world. But it does exist in the Sanctuary, which is a . . . Scientists would call it a ‘parallel dimension.’ It’s like a world beside our world. Similar, but full of magic.”

  “Yes! I called it!” Harrison whooped. “I knew there was another dimension.”

  Zoe shot him a look. “No, you didn’t.”

  “I said there could be. Distinctly remember that.”

  “You also had about a hundred other guesses. Including aliens.”

  “But magical other world was one of them,” Harrison said. “Hah.”

  Aunt Alecia continued. “Magical creatures who live in Sanctuary grow up naturally with all their powers. But magical creatures who are born here . . . There’s no magic in this world to trigger their magical selves. They grow up like nonmagical animals, often never even knowing their heritage—unless they encounter a Catalyst. Like you, Zoe. You carry inside you the magic of Sanctuary.”

  “I . . . do?”

  “That’s why these animals were drawn to you,” Aunt Alecia said, gesturing at Zoe’s friends. “There aren’t that many creatures in the world with the potential to become something extraordinary. It happens only when a magical creature leaves Sanctuary and starts a family on Earth. His or her descendants carry the potential for magical transformation inside them. Your cat, the dog, the mouse—all of them must have had a parent or grandparent or great-grandparent who came from the magic world, and that latent potential drew them to you, which is why you’ve encountered so many in such a short period of time, despite their rarity in our world. Their potential sensed your potential
, and it pulled them to you.”

  Kermit lifted his head. “I knew I should follow you, but I didn’t know why. But it started before that. When I saw you outside the vet’s, I wanted to go to you.”

  Zoe looked at Pipsqueak, who shrugged her cat shoulders. “I was a kitten. I don’t remember how I ended up at your house. But maybe this explains it? We didn’t find each other by chance; I was drawn to you.”

  “But why?” Zoe asked. Why me? Why magic? Why all of this?

  “You were born with magic inside you,” Aunt Alecia said. “It’s like having blue eyes. Pops up in some families, always emerging into full bloom when the Catalyst turns twelve. Tell me, when did your cat begin to grow? Was it on the morning of your birthday?”

  It was, Zoe realized. Pipsqueak hadn’t grown right away—she’d only begun on the day Zoe turned twelve. And that was the day she’d taken her to the vet. She remembered seeing a terrier there, in the parking lot. He’d been eager to play with them. Was that Kermit?

  “This ability has appeared before in our family, which is how I know about it, even though I’m not a Catalyst myself. Your great-grandfather, in fact, was responsible for making the portal to Sanctuary that I use.”

  Zoe thought of her family. She didn’t think Mom, Dad, or Alex was magical. It must be a recessive gene, she thought. She remembered drawing Punnett squares for science, the diagram showing how blue-eyed parents could have a brown-eyed child and so on. Of course, none of those squares ever included magic. “Is that why you and Mom argued? Because you know about all of this, and Mom thinks it’s . . . quirky?”

  Aunt Alecia gave her a bittersweet grin. “Well, basically yes. It all culminated in an argument over a potential unicorn. The creature had the mind and body of an ordinary horse, but I believed it was more, or could be more. I wanted to show your mother, to share all this with her.”

  “What happened?” Zoe asked, although she could guess.

  “She refused to even come see it. Said that she needed me to stop believing in fairy tales, that it was time for me to grow up. She said her new job would have her in the public eye, and having a sister who believes in unicorns and other nonsense could damage her career and the causes she’s fighting for. So I told her to stuff it. Then I brought the horse here to your great-grandfather’s portal and sent it through to Sanctuary. Once it was exposed to Sanctuary’s magic, it transformed, and now it’s living happily and safely as a unicorn on the other side of the shimmer.” Aunt Alecia took a bite of her s’more. “Mmm, delicious. So would you like to see it?”