Guardian Cats and the Lost Books of Alexandria

by Rahma Krambo

  "What about the raccoons? Are they helping you?"

  “They are too stupid to carry this off. They don’t care about the Book, but they do have a personal vendetta against the cats. They kidnapped that stupid ferret—for what, I don’t know. It’s okay. I only needed them to create a diversion, and that’s exactly what they did."

  "I told you that rumors were the best tool, didn't I?" whispered the formless one.

  "Yes, but it's not enough to get Cicero to move the Book. It has to be more threatening."

  "You have something in mind?"

  "Most definitely, but I need to rest. I need all of my strength to transform later."

  “I have things to attend to as well,” said the Whisperer. “Don’t fail. There’s too much at stake, and if you aren’t successful… I will have to report back to my benefactor. Be sure we have something good to tell him.”

  Chapter 43: Power in the wrong hands

  The Dead Cats positioned themselves in the magnolia tree, waiting to ambush the raccoons. They were bored.

  A large beetle crawled along a branch. Tweezer pounced and gobbled it up in one move.

  “Eeew!” said Caffeina. “How can you eat those things?”

  “I’m hungry,” said Tweezer.

  “Well, so am I, but I draw the line at cockroaches.”

  “They have lots of protein. You could probably use some protein.”

  “What I need is a visit to a salon. White fur is such a pain.”

  Tweezer peered at her through his one good eye. “Ahhh. You don’t look so bad,” he said.

  Marco was deep in thought on a branch above the others. He was glad Cicero hadn’t found out about him trying to use the spell, but he still cringed when he thought about the strange creature he’d become. That whole night he’d hidden in a tree, terrified that he’d never be normal again.

  Now he had other things to worry about. The cats, as usual, had no plan, and Tweezer said they had no luck rounding up recruits. They needed a miracle.

  “Hey, Marco! You sure tonight’s the night? We’ve been up here forever.”

  “Be patient, Skitzo.”

  From far off came the soft deep rumble of thunder. Out of the corner of his eye, Marco caught some movement in the bushes. A small raccoon moved in and out of the shadows, then darted across an open space toward the library. Was this one of Sting’s gang?

  The other cats were too absorbed in small talk to notice, so when the raccoon climbed into a basement window opening, Marco went to investigate.

  He slipped through the upper story window and made his way to the balcony, where he scanned the lower floor through the rails. The raccoon soon appeared, his head poking through the same floor vent Sting had used.

  But this was not Sting. He was way too small. The raccoon moved to a table with newspapers and magazines and promptly went to work ripping them into shreds, being careful to keep them in a pile. Strange, but hardly threatening. If this was the raccoons’ big move, then he didn’t have much to worry about.

  The raccoon was fumbling with something in his paws. There was a soft scraping sound, a familiar odor and an orange spark. “Stupid thing,” the animal mumbled. “What’s the matter with it?”

  Marco sat, spellbound, observing from his catwalk, as though the scene below were a theater stage. A clattering noise echoed in the darkened library. The raccoon had dropped the object.

  He used both paws to pick it up again. A flicker of sparks sprayed out. “Dang!” The odor grew stronger and Marco realized what it was—Polo’s cigarette lighter! How in the world did this raccoon get it? He had to be a friend of Sting’s.

  The raccoon’s next attempt was successful. The flame, framed by an orange halo, burned steadily. The raccoon moved the lighter close to the torn pile of newspaper, which took the flame, turning it yellow and blue. It flared up into the raccoons face, singeing his whiskers.

  “Cripes!” he shouted. Then the fire steadied and the raccoon mumbled to himself. “I always say, if you want something done right, do it yourself.” He turned and gazed into the depths of the library and Marco got a better view of his face. He wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

  The raccoon’s face started to change shape. No, it was more like there were two faces. Marco blinked and tried to refocus his eyes. Now it was more visible, the raccoon and another animal forming within the raccoon. It was not possible, what he was seeing. But it was happening. There was another creature coming to life, another body inside the raccoon.

  What kind of magic was at work? Nothing seemed to be as it appeared on the surface anymore. He felt dizzy for a moment and thought of The Book of Motion and how Akeel and Cicero had tried to explain about power in the wrong hands. He thought about his own error in judgment, trying to use power he wasn’t ready for.

  “No!” The raccoon shouted. “Don’t leave me now!”

  The fire grew larger, but the paper burned out quickly, and so the flames died down to almost nothing. The raccoon frantically tore up more paper, throwing it onto the hot ashes. He tried manipulating the lighter again, but it was getting harder for him to manage.

  The raccoon was getting worked up, struggling with the creature that appeared to be taking over his body. The small fire smoldered and the morphing creature became more fluid as it grew angrier. It, or they, Marco couldn’t tell which one, threw the whole lighter onto the fire.

  The double creature seemed to waiver back and forth, from what it was, to whatever it was becoming. The second creature had dull gray fur and no stripes. The lighter exploded and the fire leaped into action.

  The transformation was complete. The creature within the creature had prevailed. Marco was looking at one of the Dead Cats.

  Chapter 44: Gathering smoke

  Cicero heard a small explosion, but it was the smell of smoke that alarmed him. He dashed out of his chambers towards the balcony. He stared at the flames, not believing his eyes, thinking this must be a nightmare and he would surely wake up. When smoke drifted upwards, he knew this was no dream.

  Fire was Cicero’s greatest fear… his only fear, ever since he’d witnessed the burning of Alexandria. He stared at it in a daze. He knew he should move, but he remained petrified, dreading to leave as though he could will the fire to stop by his being there.

  “What dark power has come upon me… that I should suffer through this, as did my predecessors? And why did I not sense its coming?”

  Finally, he turned and darted back to his chambers, looking for Alaniah. She was not there and he went back to the balcony, coughing on the gathering smoke.

  Cicero stood in front of the mirror, helpless to enter without Alaniah. He saw the reflection of the fire behind him, the image repeating over and over because of another mirror on the other side. For a terrifying moment, he felt the presence of the madmen who burned the library at Alexandria.

  Caffeina goes for help

  “Did you hear that noise? And what is that smell?” Caffeina caught the scent first, then Tweezer and the others smelled it.

  “It’s coming from inside!” cried Skitzo.

  Gypsy leaped down onto a lower branch. “Fire!” she cried. “I can see it. Come over here and look.”

  “Fire?” cried Skitzo. “This is how they’ve come to destroy us?”

  “They? Who do you mean? The raccoons?” asked Caffeina.

  “We need a human,” said Gypsy, ever the practical one. “They’ll know what to do.”

  “Where are we going to find a human at this time of night?”

  “There’s a light on in that house,” said Pudge. “Who’s willing to check it out?”

  “I’ll go,” said Caffeina. “I can’t sit here and do nothing.”

  She dropped down from the tree and ran to the house. The rose bushes pricked her nose as she climbed up the trellis, but she managed to get to the window and peer inside where two people were sitting in front of a TV.

  Caffeina tapped on the window with her paw. They di
dn’t hear her. She tapped harder and louder. This time the woman turned and looked out the window. She squinted at her and laughed, then nudged her husband. He ignored her. She nudged him again.

  Caffeina caught a whiff of smoke and tapped more vigorously. The woman was laughing now, but the man was getting annoyed.

  Caffeina meowed at the humans, hoping that they would come outside and smell the smoke. The man groaned as he got out of his chair and came over to the window.

  ‘Oh good,’ thought Caffeina hopefully. ‘They’ll be sure to help us now.’

  “Damn stray cat,” the man muttered. “Looking for a handout.”

  “Look at her. She’s beautiful, Wilbur. We should give her something to eat.”

  “Forget it, Iris. We’re not taking in another cat. I’m calling Animal Control in the morning.” The man closed the blinds.

  Chapter 45: Tough guys

  Caffeina went back to the others to report her failure.

  “Where’s Cicero?” she asked. “And Marco? Where’s he?” No one seemed to be in charge.

  “I’m going back out,” she said. “I don’t know where, but I’ll keep looking until I find someone. Anybody else want to come?”

  Tweezer moved to join her.

  “Oh! What a pity.” A voice from the ground stopped them in their tracks. “Looks like your precious library is burning.” Sting was planted squarely under the tree, along with Tank, Crimmany and some out-of-towners.

  “Hey scabs! I’m talking to you!”

  “Scram, creep,” yelled Tweezer.

  “Oh, you must be the tough guy, huh?” accused Sting.

  “What kind of tough guy hides in a tree?” asked Tank.

  “In case you didn’t notice, the books are burning,” said Sting. “You gonna sit and watch? What a bunch of losers.”

  Tweezer climbed farther down the tree. “I’m not going to take this,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Don’t go!” Caffeina whispered. “They’ll kill you!”

  There was a cracking sound inside as the table, where the fire had started, split and crashed to the floor.

  “I love a good fire. Don’t you?” Sting said to Tank. The other raccoons were milling restlessly about, looking in the windows.

  “Hey, Sting!” yelled one of the newcomers. “I thought you said we were gonna have a good fight tonight. There’s nobody here to fight with.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. They’re a bunch of nobodies.”

  “Scaredy cats. That’s what they are.”

  “I know what’ll get ‘em down,” taunted Sting. “Here, kitty, kitty. I have something special for you.”

  Sting went over to the bushes and yanked on the leash that Polo was tied to. “I got your ratty little pet here. Come and get 'em!”

  Sting yanked Polo by his collar and held him up, squirming and strangling. Polo tried to squeal but nothing came out.

  Tweezer took a flying leap off the branch. In one fell swoop, he grabbed the leash with his teeth and jerked it out of Sting’s paw. The startled raccoon had no time to act and Polo, with the leash dragging behind him like a long tail, ran as far and as fast as he could.

  Chapter 46: A purpose in life

  Marco followed the gray cat to the rooftop. He wasn’t sure what to do about the fire, but he was sure he needed to keep track of the raccoon turned cat. He moved stealthily behind him, but he needn’t worry. Bait was too self absorbed.

  Bait, the traitor, began a conversation with someone Marco couldn’t see. Someone he was obviously friends with.

  “I’ve failed. Cicero has vanished and so, I assume, has the Book. My plan to smoke him out seems childish now," Bait was saying. Marco tuned his hearing and another voice became audible.

  “While you’ve been playing with fire, I’ve been speaking with my benefactor. He sends you a message.”

  “Yes?”

  “He says we can give you something better than what you were looking for.”

  “What could that possibly be?” demanded Bait.

  “A purpose. You simply need direction.”

  “What do I want with direction? I want my magic!” he said angrily.

  “You don’t need silly magic tricks like shape changing anymore! That’s for beginners.”

  A chill wind wrestled with the leaves on the magnolia tree.

  “Stop playing around like this is some kind of game!” said the whispery voice. “You are behaving like a timid house cat!”

  “That is unfair!” cried Bait.

  “Then don’t bother me anymore. You don’t want my advice.”

  “No. No! Don’t go. Tell me,” said Bait.

  There was a long moment of silence before Marco heard them speak again.

  “Think about it. You’ll never get to the Book as long as it has a Guardian. He’s only doing his job, you know, but he’s getting too old. Maybe he was good once upon a time, but no longer. The Book needs someone younger and stronger. You… you are the worthy one!”

  “Yes, it is by all rights, mine.”

  “That only proves his foolishness. His judgment is failing. It’s time you stepped in and took action. You must not hesitate or falter now.”

  Marco smelled scorched paper and heard the crackle of burning books below mingled with the quiet sounds of treachery here on the roof.

  “Cicero has been selfish, wanting to keep it all for himself. This is a Book to be shared and that will never happen as long as he is alive. You must have the courage to do what is necessary!”

  A gust of wind whipped down from the roof and lightning from the approaching storm flared in the distance.

  Chapter 47: Destiny has its own ways

  An insignificant stone became the cause for change in the course of events. Gravity and vibration caused a small rock to dislodge and roll towards Marco. It was enough to catch Bait’s attention. He whirled around, his yellow eyes glowing with a savagery he had kept hidden for so long under his gray cloak. “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing? And who were you talking to?” asked Marco.

  “None of your business,” answered Bait.

  “It is my business, if you are planning to kill Cicero.”

  “Oh! Aren’t you the noble knight? Always out to save somebody. You’re so pathetic. You don’t have what it takes to be a Guardian, whatever foolish ideas Cicero put in your head. You’ll never be anything more than a lap cat.”

  “I thought you were my friend, Bait. What happened to you?”

  “I was never your friend, fool. You don’t get it, do you? Grow up!”

  Something below them crashed as the fire continued to gain strength. Lightening flashed and made them both jump.

  “How could you burn the library?” demanded Marco. In the distance, the sound of thunder accompanied the faint whine of sirens. “What could possibly make you turn so…” bitter, he thought, then stopped as the realization hit him. “You were training, weren’t you?”

  “I’m still in training. I’m the rightful heir. You’ll never take over.”

  “I’m not taking over anything.”

  “You are so naïve. You want to know what happened? You think Cicero is such a great and honorable cat? He’s old and greedy and he’ll turn on you like he did me. And he doesn’t keep his word. How noble is that?”

  “What happened to you, Bait? You were not like this when I first met you.”

  “No? Maybe not. Maybe I still had some hope in me. Like you. I thought I could get back into Cicero’s good graces. But he shut me out... completely. Then you came along… not so corrupt as his old student… and I knew it was all over for me. He gave up on me. So I gave up trying.”

  Marco felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Bait. “I’m… ”

  “Don’t,” said Bait.

  “Wha…?”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me. I can’t stand it.”

  “You are heartless, even to yourself. I think that’s the saddest part of this.”

&nbs
p; “I don’t need your pity!” Bait suddenly leaped onto him and sank his teeth into Marco’s leg. “There! You want to retract that touching bit of sympathy? Save it for Cicero—after I finish with him.”

  Bait backed up and crouched, ready for another attack. Marco ignored the pain and got himself into a better position. He didn’t want to be caught off guard again and didn’t wait to be attacked. He leaped on top of Bait and held his head between his paws, his sharp claws digging into the sides of Bait’s face. Blood spurted out, making it harder for Marco to keep his hold. He slipped and rolled down the steep roof. The only thing that kept him from falling was the gutter.

  He righted himself just as Bait pounced on top of him. Marco fell over the edge of the roof, barely grabbing hold of the gutter with his claws. Pain pierced through his body and he felt himself slipping toward certain death.

  Bait came over to gloat at Marco’s predicament. “Too bad for you. It’s certain now that you’ll never become a Guardian,” he said. “But think of it this way. At least you've secured your legacy as one of the Dead Cats."

  Bait put his full weight behind the punch he prepared to deal to Marco. It should have been the end of him, but a deafening crack of thunder and a high-voltage jolt of lightning split the sky open. Bait lost his concentration and his balance.

  Rain poured from the sky and Marco heard the thud of Bait’s body hit the ground sixty feet below.

  Chapter 48: Dead cats

  “What’s this?” cried Tank. “A dead cat?”

  “One dead cat!” announced Crimmany, circling the body, like he was taking credit for his demise.

  Tweezer and Caffeina came over to view the lifeless body. They stood there in the rain, sniffed and nudged him with their noses and looked at each other. What a strange thing that Bait had come to fall out of the sky with the rain, thought Tweezer.