Guardian Cats and the Lost Books of Alexandria

Chapter 50: Meetings

Cicero went out the window. The cats and raccoons were having a knockdown drag-out fight on the lawn of the library, and fire was glowing through the windows. But Cicero was forced to leave it all behind and head for the Springs, where he hoped to find Alaniah to let him in the vault.

He crossed the rain-soaked street and was heading for the park when he encountered a lone cat.

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s pretty noisy around here. Trouble?”

“I don’t have time to talk.” Cicero strained his neck to look ahead. He really needed to get moving again.

“Maybe I could help out.”

“Go get in the middle of the brawl, if you like.”

“Hey, you don’t have to be rude.”

Something about this cat was familiar in a disturbing way. “Do I know you?” Cicero cocked his head and really looked at the cat this time.

“No. I’m just passing through.” He shrank back into the shadows a little.

Cicero didn’t have time to worry about who this cat was. “Well, you should keep on going. There’s nothing but trouble here right now.”

“Not very friendly, are you?”

“No.”

“I’ve heard rumors about the cats in this place.”

“Yeah, what kind of rumors?” Cicero shifted impatiently.

“Something about dead cats… ghost cats. Weird and eccentric. You one of those?”

Cicero narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

“Just offering a friendly hand. You don’t have to be so suspicious.”

This made Cicero all the more suspicious. “Must be my eyes are playing tricks on me. You have the voice of another, but your fur is curious… it is wearing thin.”

“You speak strangely. You must be one of the dead cats… or possibly one of the noble Guardians I have heard about.”

“You have heard about the Guardians? Might you be a reader cat?”

“Most assuredly.”

“Then you are more deceptive than I even imagined. How did you change your appearance in this way?”

“Your eyes are tricking you.”

“I am not using only my eyes. There are other ways of seeing,” said Cicero.

“You speak in such cryptic language. What do you have to hide?”

“Why do you ask? You know the answer already,” said Cicero.

“Then….” the cat paused. “You should know what you did to me.”

“What I did!” Cicero exclaimed. No pretense was possible now.

“Yes. What you did was unforgivable. What were you thinking when you abandoned me?”

“That’s what you call it?” Cicero asked, his fury rising. “The dishonor of your actions was enough to disqualify you from the Dead Cats Society, let alone from becoming a Guardian.”

“Then why didn’t you kick me out? Why did you let me stay around, thinking there was some hope of regaining your trust?”

“Maybe I did have some hope.”

“What was my big crime?”

“You wanted it too much,” said Cicero. “This isn’t a job anyone should desire. The responsibility is too great.”

They made wide circles around each other, keeping their eyes locked together.

“This charade is enough to assure me that I made the right decision, if I ever doubted. What are you doing appearing in disguise? What are you hiding, dear Baitengirth?”

It seemed that his use of Bait’s full name was his flashpoint. His old companion charged at him like some dreadful demon.

Cicero was not without resources for dealing with such things. A multitude of electrical charges remained in the air from the storm. When the fallen apprentice was only a breath way, Cicero drew power from the invisible currents and aimed them at Bait.

The changeling cat disappeared without a trace.