Guardian Cats and the Lost Books of Alexandria

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.”

“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.