by Molly Fitz
“Sure. I mean you’re a little better than brainless and a little worse than pretty, but it averages out.”
“Sorry, I can’t deal with this right now.” I grabbed my fresh cup of coffee and marched toward my room, ready to slam the door in his face.
Merlin trailed behind me, too fast for me to shut out without spilling my precious coffee along the way. “I’m sorry. I forget how sensitive you humans are about things like that. I chose you because I believe you have what it takes.”
“To be the brainless face of your operations?” I asked with a growl.
But Merlin either didn’t pick up on my ire or chose to ignore it. “Exactly. I’m so glad you understand now.”
“I’m sorry, but I have bigger plans for my life than that.”
Merlin’s eyes glistened with mischief. “What plans? Tell me, and I can make them happen.”
I stared at him quizzically, afraid to ask for more.
“You don’t have magic, but I do. Remember? Being a familiar is an important job, but not a thankless one. Many of the famous folks in your human history were secretly familiars.”
I crossed my arms and glared at him. “Really? Like who?”
“Well, consider my namesake,” he said with a smile stretched wide between his whiskers.
I balked at this. “Merlin. The wizard?”
“Ha, he wishes! The Merlin you humans know about was actually the familiar for an extremely powerful cat witch. His name was also Merlin, which makes it a bit confusing. The human Merlin wished to achieve power and fame in exchange for aiding his cat. But he became greedy and self-important, which is why the real Merlin cursed him to age backward. Meanwhile, he found a much more suitable familiar in a new human called Arthur. He only wanted power and prestige in the human world, which was much easier for my great ancestor to cope with.”
“So Merlin was a fraud and King Arthur was just somebody’s familiar?” I summed up.
“There’s no just about it. Familiars are incredibly important. We witches do what we have to in order to keep you happy.”
I raised an eyebrow in question.
“So could I be the next Lady Gaga?”
“That would take some talent. You may not have been born that way, but I can sure make it happen.” Merlin paused and flexed his paws. “Is that what you want?”
“No, it was just a hypothetical,” I rushed to explain.
“Careful then, because wishes that size only come around once. There’s a lot of small stuff I can do on the regular, but truly life-changing alterations are a one-time deal.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I promised, still not quite believing all this.
“As you should.” Merlin appeared to be satisfied now. “Come. Let’s begin.”
7
“Where are we going?” I asked as I chased my cat through the house.
Instead of answering, though, he ran through the pet flap and outside.
Hurriedly, I pushed my feet into a pair of cheap flip-flops I kept by the door, then swung the door open in just enough time to see him jump into the birdbath and splash around. I knew Maine Coons liked water, but it was still strange to see him enjoying himself in this way. Back where I came from, cats were cats—they hated water and they definitely did not talk.
“I saw you the other day,” I said as I approached cautiously. “Yesterday,” I amended.
Wow, that felt like a week ago at least.
Merlin stopped splashing and glanced over his shoulder at me. “Yes. And what did you see?”
“You f-fl-flew,” I sputtered, wrapping my arms around myself in a hug. “After a bird you wanted to eat.”
Merlin sighed. “First thing’s first, I did not want to eat him. That guy owed me money.”
I blinked hard. “Money?”
“Yes, money.” He smiled now. “Secondly, I wanted you to see me. It was a test.”
“Test?” A chill ran through me, even though the Georgia morning was already bright and warm.
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Stop repeating everything I say as a question.” He stared me down, waiting for whatever it was he needed from me.
I gulped and nodded, still stuck on the fact my cat used money and that a neighborhood bird owed him some.
“I had to see how you reacted to your first glimpse of magic. Some humans can’t quite handle it.”
“And I did? Handled it, I mean?”
My cat looked me up and down then smirked. “You’re still standing. That’s a good start.”
“What could have happened?” I demanded, quite angry that he would knowingly put me in danger.
“You could have lost your mind,” he said flatly. “Many do. That’s why one must always exercise extreme caution when selecting and testing a familiar.”
“So you mentally break people?” It took everything I had not to yell that. Still, we were outside in the middle of a neighborhood street. If someone happened by and saw me not only talking to—but arguing with—my cat, the crazy train would be at my door by noon, ready to lock me up and throw away the key.
My cat remained calm, casual, as if he were discussing meaningless trivia and not the very real facts of our lives. “Yes, not everyone can handle the existence of magic. A sad truth.” Merlin straightened and puffed his fluffy chest out. “Anyway, glad you’re still with me.”
“Do I have a choice?”
He chuckled. “No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Come closer,” my cat urged, and I immediately did as told.
“What’s this? What are were doing?” I asked, feeling awkward as we stood in the middle of my yard and continued to converse in broad daylight. Seriously, why couldn’t we have done whatever this was inside?
“How to be a familiar, lesson one!” he declared with pride, then moved to the edge of the birdbath, balancing somewhat precariously. “Protect the cauldron at all costs.”
“That’s a birdbath,” I pointed out.
He raised his arm high, then face-pawed. “It’s a cauldron. The source of my power and my connection to the larger magical community. Without it, I am a witch at large. Not a proper witch at all.”
I looked from the birdbath to him and back again.
Merlin sighed. “Lesson two, believe everything I say without question. For example, this is a cauldron. In the olden days, witches used giant black pots. But in the modern era, we use other commonplace items that are easy for a witch to access but go largely unnoticed by others. Observe.”
He walked to the center of the small fountain and dipped his paw in. Instantly the thin layer of water began to glow a pale green, not unlike the color of Merlin’s large eyes.
“Whoa,” I said, the air whooshing right out of me in surprise.
Merlin tapped the water again, and it returned to its normal state. “This is why we cats choose to adopt humans. There is no guaranteed safe place on the streets. We need the guise of domesticity to protect our secrets. And also the shade of night. Naturally, we would prefer to keep away during the day, but it’s easier to hide our true ways when most of you humans are tucked away in your beds.”
I nodded along. Everything he was telling me made sense, now that I thought about it. Everything except…
“What do you need money for?” I asked, still stuck on his revelation about that poor robin who owed him money.
“You’re still stuck on your own world. In mine, we… MEOW!”
“Huh?” I spun my head to see where he was looking and caught sight of a neighbor powerwalking by.
She smiled and waved a hello, and I could swear I recognized her from somewhere. I just didn’t know where.
But then just as quickly as she’d approached, she passed out of view.
I turned back to my cat, whose tail flicked wildly as it hung down from the stone bath. “Watch out for that one,” he growled.
“What? Why? She seemed friendly enough.”
He sneered unkindly as he stared in the dire
ction the woman had gone. “Remember lesson number two?”
“Trust everything you say?”
“Yes. That was Virginia. She’s the familiar for a very troublesome witch who lives on the other side of town. Luna,” he bit out.
“Did she come to spy on us?”
Merlin jumped down from the bath. “I wouldn’t put it past her. Luckily, the cauldron is protected from other magical practitioners and their familiars. Come. Let’s return inside where we cannot be watched by those who would do us harm.”
Harm? It seemed I’d only survived the first of many trials when it came to joining my cat in his magical world, which left one question playing on loop in my mind: WHY ME?
8
“We’re going to Luna’s,” Merlin announced as soon as I’d shut the door firmly behind us. Of course, I didn’t like this one bit.
“What? Why?” I moaned.
Unfortunately, Merlin remained steadfast in his demands. “If she’s spying on us, that means she herself probably has something to hide.”
“We’re going to break and enter based on a probably? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m already a suspect in a murder investigation!” I exploded, and I had to admit it felt good to yell after working so hard to keep it together outside.
“Lesson number two,” he reminded me yet again, and I could already tell that this would be my least favorite of all the lessons, no matter what came next.
I huffed and crossed my arms. He couldn’t make me do something I didn’t want to do… Could he?
Merlin softened a bit. “Look, I know this is all new to you, but you have to trust me. I will protect you. And right now, protecting you means making sure Luna doesn’t try something while I’m working to get my new familiar on board. We’re both incredibly vulnerable right now, which means we must be vigilant.”
He paused to suck in a deep breath here, then resumed in an even more somber tone. “You think human prison is scary? It doesn’t hold a candle to the living horror that is a magical prison. If Luna exposes us, then we’ll both go there with no hope of ever getting out. You get taken to human prison, I can break you out in a blink and help you create a new identity. Trust me, this Harold guy’s murder is the least of our problems right now.”
“Okay,” I said, too tired to argue any longer and too afraid to learn any more about the possible repercussions of failing to do this familiar thing the right way.
He studied me with those curious green eyes of his and asked, “Okay what?”
“I trust you,” I said, praying I wouldn’t come to regret this assertion.
“Really? I expected you to put up more of a fight.”
I shrugged. “What good would that do if we’re just going to end up doing what you want, anyway?”
“I’m glad you agree.” Merlin nodded, then blinked slowly two times.
I must have blinked, too, because one second we were standing at the edge of my kitchen, and the next I found myself under the shade of an unfamiliar magnolia tree by a small ranch-style home with a carefully tended garden.
I took a step back, pushing myself against the tree for support.
“What… What just happened?” I gasped.
Merlin stalked toward me and snickered. “Your first teleportation. So sweet.”
“Teleportation?” I whisper-yelled, in case anyone was nearby and paying attention to us. “Next time give me a little notice, please.”
“No,” he said firmly. “It’s much easier if you don’t know it’s coming.”
I groaned and clutched at my head. Really that was just for show, though, because other than being shocked witless, I felt perfectly fine. “Where are we?”
“Luna’s. Now c’mon.” Merlin turned away from me and began trotting toward the back of the nearby house, his fluffy striped tail held high and proud.
“Wait. How are we going to get in?” I called after him.
But Merlin just ran faster, then jumped into a window box fitted with perky yellow daffodils.
I crept after him, one second moving through soft, spongy grass and the next stomping across a smooth hardwood floor. Great, now we were inside the house.
“Stop doing that,” I hissed.
“Stop complaining,” he hissed back, “and help me look.”
“For what?” I said, taking in the homey decor.
Luna’s owner—or familiar, I guess—certainly loved floral prints. They covered everything. I was pretty sure I’d seen that exact couch pattern on a pregnant B-list celebrity once upon a time. In addition to the floral fabric, drapes, and decor, more than a dozen vases of fresh-cut flowers filled the modest home.
I couldn’t help but sneeze in response.
“Luna’s a garden witch,” Merlin explained when he caught me staring.
“What kind of witch are you?” I asked, mouth agape. First I learn that witches are real, then I find out they come in multiple flavors.
“Sky,” he informed me placidly.
But my head was positively spinning from all the new information flying at me in rapid succession. “Come again now?” I squeaked. This seemed like one thing I just couldn’t let go without getting at least some kind of quick explanation.
“I’m pretty well-rounded, but my specialty pertains to things that come from the sky. You know, wind, water, ice. The occasional burst of electricity, if the mood is right.”
Finally, part of this was beginning to make some sense. “Oh, so you’re all elemental? Like Pokémon.”
His expression instantly turned dour. “No, not like a children’s video game.”
“Yeah, actually, I think it is. Luna’s a garden witch, so plants and earth, right? That would make her grass and ground type,” I recited, glad the many hours I’d invested playing Pokémon Go were good for more than just getting my steps in. “And you’re water, flying, and ice, so you’re kind of an even match. I suggest you use your ice powers in battle.”
“This is not a game, and there are no battles. Now stop yammering and help me search for anything suspicious.”
“Like that?” I asked, pointing to an old leather journal that lay open on the coffee table.
“No,” Merlin began, but then he turned to look where I was pointing, and his eyes lit with delight. “Actually, yes. Good job. Now grab the book, and let’s get out of here before someone notices our intrusion.”
Well, he certainly didn’t have to tell me twice. I hustled for that journal as fast as my flip-flopped feet would carry me, more than ready to head home.
9
Merlin blinked once, and I braced myself for another unnerving journey by teleportation. Before he could blink a second time, however, a nearby flower vase shattered and the thorny stems flew to my cat, locking him in place.
“Well, well, well…” A husky female voice floated toward us from the doorway. I hadn’t even heard anyone enter. How could we have been so careless?
I craned my neck, too afraid to move the rest of me, and spotted a lanky white cat with bright green eyes staring right back at me.
“Luna,” Merlin growled. “What do you want?”
She stalked over to him and slowly circled her entrapped rival. “I think I should be the one asking questions here, since you’re the one who broke into my house.”
“I owe you nothing,” Merlin spat and hissed.
While the two felines continued to argue, I carefully slipped the journal we’d found into the waistband of my pants.
“Why was your familiar at my house?” Merlin demanded. He looked so pathetic in that cage of flower petals and stems.
“Why is your familiar in my house? We can do this all day, Fluffy.” She cackled at him, leaving no doubt who was the wicked witch in this scenario.
“His name’s Merlin,” I corrected angrily and grabbed for the white cat. Even though I didn’t have magic, I did have almost one-hundred and fifty pounds on the skinny feline. Surely, I could overpower her.
But no. She escaped my reaching arms and
turned back to hiss at me. “I’ll only tell you this once, so make sure you’re paying attention.” Luna’s back arched and her tail grew extra poofy. “If you ever break into my house again, I won’t be so forgiving a second time.”
I gulped hard, choosing not to point out that we teleported in, that there was no breaking at all.
Luna inched forward with claws extended. “What are you, stupid? Get out of here!”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I picked up Merlin, thorny cage and all, and bolted through the front door. Outside now, I ran toward the street, which I could just barely see in the distance. Luna’s large front yard sat at the intersection of two side streets. I tried to read the signs as I got closer but struggled to make out either very clearly.
Persimmon, I read just as my feet made contact with the pavement. Now that we’d stepped off Luna’s property, the thorns and flowers that held Merlin fell away.
He jumped from my arms, shook off, blinked once, twice… And we were back home.
“All that for nothing,” he mewled, padding toward his water bowl then taking a few long laps to refresh himself.
“Not for nothing,” I revealed, tugging the filched journal from my waistband and bringing it into view.
“Gracie,” my cat exclaimed. “Good girl. Very good girl.”
I basked in his praise despite his dehumanizing tone. “I can see why you don’t much care for Luna,” I added softly. “Or the name Fluffy. I’m sorry.”
“She’d have killed me if you weren’t there,” he said with a casual shrug. “She’s been like that ever since I dumped her to take my place as a full witch.”
I threw my hands up and took a step back. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up there.”
Merlin turned away but kept one eye trained on me from the side. “A cat doesn’t become a full witch until he takes a familiar.”
“Not that part. The dumping part?” I clarified, wondering why he hadn’t told me this bit of his history with Luna in advance of our trespassing—and me stealing the journal.
Merlin yawned and stretched his back legs lazily. “Oh, yeah. We used to date. Not a big deal.”