Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was a bright light. A weight on top of me. The world seemed to slow down. I couldn't move out of the way in time. My heart pounded.

Then there was a flash. And a voice. I reached out…

And I was somewhere else.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. I was lying on what appeared to be a carpeted floor. In front of me, I saw a bed with pink sheets. A dresser stood behind it, as well as a desk littered with books, papers, and a laptop computer. Laundry was piled up on top of a chair in front of it. Posters and drawings decorated the walls, but without my glasses, I couldn't make out their details.

"Ohmygosh, it worked?!" exclaimed a voice from behind me. I twisted my head to look. A blonde girl in flamingo-pink pajamas was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to me, her hands over her mouth in shock. From my perspective, she seemed very large.

Very large.

Something felt wrong.

I tried to sit up, and I got a glimpse of the pentagram painted on the carpet around me. More importantly, I got a glimpse of my hands, which were not, in fact, hands. They were paws.

"What the fuck?" I said, scrambling to my feet—all four of them. "Where am I? Who are you?" My voice sounded wrong. What the hell was happening?

The giant girl grimaced and held up her hands, palms forward. "Okay okay don't panic! I know you probably weren't expecting to be a magical talking cat all of a sudden and I'm sure it's really weird and disorienting for you and okay yes it's my fault but just let me explain!" She took a deep breath. "Sorry. I've never done this before! I can explain, I can, I swear."

A cat. Fuck me. As absolutely batshit as that sounded, it checked out. I could feel my tail flicking behind me instinctively in my agitation. And the scale of this room…well, I'd never been a cat before, but it sure looked like how I would expect a bedroom to look from a cat-sized perspective.

"Um. So. Basically. I cast a spell, to call a familiar. And, um, that's you! Familiars are supposed to have increased intelligence and the ability to talk to their bonded mages, which is why you can talk. And the whole, uh…black cat thing, it's…well, that's just what a cat familiar looks like. I mean, with the reagents I used. I guess I could have also asked for a raven, or a bat, or a rat, or an owl, or…"

"Slow down a little. Just…slow down." I padded around the inside of the pentagram, questions whirling through my head. The girl stopped babbling, looking embarrassed. Now that I had a little more context, I could see that she was only a teenager. She couldn't have been more than sixteen, seventeen years old.

"Before you summoned me, a truck was about to run me over," I said cautiously. "Does this have anything to do with that? Did you 'isekai' me so I could be the Salem to your Sabrina? Pull my soul from another dimension, or something?"

She fidgeted a little, uncrossing her legs and folding them underneath herself to sit a little taller. "Oh, uh, you don't just talk, you also make pop culture references, huh? That's cool. Very cool. Um. No. Not that I know of. I mean, maybe. I don't think so? And technically it's a calling, not a summoning."

I gave her my best feline glare. (I think I did okay for a beginner.) "Explain."

"Okay," she said. "So, a summoning spell sort of captures the essence of a creature from somewhere else and temporarily recreates it at the caster's location, but a calling spell actually bodily transports that creature, and—"

"Not the difference between a summoning and a calling. The other part."

"Right. So, this is a calling spell, which means it's supposed to teleport you here, to me, from wherever you were. There's also a binding element, which I guess must be working, because I can understand you, and you can understand me, and that's supposed to be a function of the bond. And there's a transmutation element, obviously, which is why you look all…Halloween-ish. But doing something like this across dimensional barriers on top of everything else would take a lot of power. I'm still sort of a beginner, so my spells shouldn't have enough energy to do big magic like that."

I nodded. "I think I got it. So we're still in my world, just in a different place. Where are we?"

"Northern California," she said. "Sonoma County, to be precise. This is an unincorporated area in between Sebastopol and Graton. I don't know if that means anything to you."

"I'm from California too, but a different part of the state. I was in Davis when you…called me?" I had been riding my bike. Picking up groceries for dinner. It was dark out. And I swerved to avoid a squirrel, and hit a pothole, and wiped out. Then the truck came out of nowhere, and my leg was pinned under my bike, and…

Oh my god. Did I die? Was this my mind, inventing some absurd dream as my body was lying bleeding out on the pavement? It had to be. But…I flicked my eyes up at the alarm clock on my Sabrina's bedside table. 8:45 PM. I looked away, then looked back. Still 8:45 PM. No. Not a dream. That's a basic lucid dreaming technique: reality checks. In dreams, your brain can't keep track of things like that. Look at a clock twice, and the time will change. Do the same for a book, and the text will change. When you see that change, you know it's a dream.

I checked the clock again. 8:45. It ticked up to  8:46. Not a dream.

"I think you saved my life," I said slowly. "If what you're saying is true…you teleported me away right before I would have been pancaked. I'm not really sure how I feel about this bonded familiar…thing, but I'm sure I'd rather be a familiar than a smear on the road." I looked her in the eyes. "Thank you."

She blushed. "It wasn't on purpose. But you're welcome?"

"My name is Kate," I said, offering up a paw for a handshake. "It's nice to meet you."

She leaned forward and extended her own hand, gently taking my paw to return the gesture. "Mallory. You can call me Mal. I'm really excited to meet you too!"

As we touched, a tingling sensation ran through me. She must have felt it too—I could sense her surprise. "Oh, that's the bond!" she said, excitement creeping back into her expression. "I forgot it's supposed to react to physical contact! Dang, I guess I just broke the barrier of the summoning diagram too. That would have been really bad if you were a demon or something. Ha! Hey, you're not a demon, right? Just a normal cat?"

"Um. No. I'm not either of those things." My eyes narrowed. "Did you think I was a normal cat?"

"I mean, you know, obviously not anymore —you should be a super cool magical cat now. But yes, that's how the spell is supposed to work? See, look," she pointed toward the five points of the pentagram, "the foci that I used were designed to bring forth a cat." At each of the star-shaped diagram's five points, there was a lit candle and a mundane object.

"The drawing of a cat, that's obvious," she continued. Following her finger, I could see a handmade charcoal drawing of a black cat, scratched onto sketch paper by a talented hand. "It’s at the north point, because it’s the keystone. Then I used a broken chain link over here to represent freedom, because I didn't want to steal someone else's pet. The valerian root on this point represents happiness, so that I wouldn't end up with a cat who would be miserable to be here. Maybe that's why the spell found you right before you were about to get hurt? And then the mini Umbreon plushie over there represents both magical power and cuteness, obviously, and the eyeglasses here represent intelligence."

I flicked my tail again as she sat back up straighter. "So yeah!" she said. "A little unconventional, but my book says the exact objects aren't as important as their symbolism, so it should have found a cute, smart, independent cat with high magical potential who was willing to come when I called…right? Did…did I do something wrong?"

"I think I see the problem," I said. "That plushie is the exact same as the one I kept on my keyring. I recognize the brand. The chain on my bicycle came loose when I crashed. And those glasses…Mal, I wear those same frames. Exactly the same. It wasn't just symbolism."

"It was sympathy," she whispered. Her face fell as she put the pieces together. "Keyring. Bicycle. Glasses…oh gods. You're a human."

I nodded. "Yup. Katelyn Winters, human female, 21 years old. College student. I was going to school to become a CPA."

"And I turned you into a cat. Oh, oh no, oh no, that’s..."

I nodded again.

I could feel her shame and horror through our link as clearly as if it had been my own, and I knew she was about to cry. So my protective instincts kicked in, and I did the only thing I could think of.

I climbed into her lap.

"I'm sorry," sobbed Mal, tears brimming from her eyes as she stroked my back. "I'm so sorry. I fucked up. I didn't know. I didn't mean to."

"I know," I whispered back, nuzzling against her arms, feeling the tingle of the bond between us as we tried to comfort one another.

"I don't know how to reverse the spell."

"Sshh. It's okay. We'll be okay."

"I'm so sorry, Kate."

And we sat there together, sharing each other's pain.

Chapter Text

All the questions whirring through my head made it hard to get to sleep that night, but eventually, curled at the foot of Mal's bed, I succumbed to fatigue, and my dreams merged with hers.

When I woke up, it took me a moment to remember where I was. What I was. Right. That's me, housecat extraordinaire, apparently! Not exactly what I had planned for the weekend, but hey, not dead! You know what, I'll take it.

Mallory was stirring under the blanket. We both yawned—our empathic link must have included tandem drowsiness. I clambered up to her pillow. "Good morning!" I said, as cheerfully as I could muster.

"G'mornin…" she mumbled back groggily before rolling over and closing her eyes again. Ah, of course. Teenagers and mornings don't mix. She'd probably be a bit before she got up. That was alright. Today was Saturday. She could sleep in if she wanted, and I could use that time to take stock of my surroundings and get accustomed to moving around in my new body.

As a cat, I was small. I wasn't exactly tall as a human, but here, everything towered over me. Not only that, but my body had a completely different arrangement of limbs. Four legs, a tail, paws, fur, whiskers, everything. Somehow, that didn't feel as weird and off-putting as it should have. Logically, I ought to be experiencing severe body dysmorphia, or having panic attacks, or just generally freaking out, but I wasn't. There was a calm, intellectual sort of annoyance at losing my opposable thumbs, along with everything else in my human life, but no deep-seated sense of wrongness or dread. The magic must have compensated for that, I guess? Well, thank goodness. One less hurdle to deal with.

And speaking of hurdles, did you know that cats are incredibly acrobatic? Because damn, I could move in this body. Like, I was pretty sure I could jump five times my body height, no problem. Maybe more. Between the bed, the desk, the chair, the dresser, the nightstand, and the bookshelf, there wasn't a piece of furniture I couldn't effortlessly leap on top of from the floor. And the speed…running as a quadruped felt incredible. Housecats are fast, y'all. I don't know that my new body would make a very good endurance runner, but sprinting from one end of the room to the other, with a viewpoint so close to the ground, I felt like I was Sonic the Hedgehog.

Meanwhile, the sensory experience of being a cat was very different. First off, there was the sense of smell. Wow. It was like…I don't know how to describe it. So, if you're a person who wears glasses, do you know that feeling when you put on new prescription lenses for the first time, and suddenly the whole world is in focus, and you can see everything, and it's amazing? It was like that, but for smell, and way more intense. Mallory's room was rich with an impressive array of aromas that, as a human, I never would have been able to pick out or identify. The smell of teen girl was the strongest—no surprise there, Mal lived here, and she was currently present and dozing in the bed—but a veritable potpourri of herbs, candles, and other spell components assaulted my newly sensitive nose as well. Made sense—tools of the trade for a young witch.

On the flip side, I kind of expected cats to have better eyesight than humans, but I guess that only applies to night vision, because with the morning sunlight spilling through the window, I was just as nearsighted as a cat as I had been as a human. There was something strange, though. It was subtle, but if I focused, I could almost see a sort of faint fluorescent aura around Mal. And…not just her. There was a faint, lingering… something in the spot where the ritual diagram had summoned me. Called me, whatever. And something similar surrounded the drawer where the smell of spell components was strongest, as well as a few of the books on the bookshelf. Were those spellbooks? I couldn’t quite describe the color—it must have been somewhere in the ultraviolet spectrum. Can cats see magical auras? Or maybe this was just part of being a familiar, a way for a witch's companion to assist with spellcasting?

I padded over to examine the books more closely, skimming past the manga, schoolbooks, and YA novels to focus on the ones that carried the strange aura. One of them was covered in Pokémon stickers, and had the look of a journal or a diary. Another was a thick, weathered tome that might have been passed down by previous generations. And then there were some tall hardcovers the size and shape of textbooks, except that they had names like "Spell Compendium" and "Complete Mage" and…uh…"Player's Handbook" and "Dungeon Master's Guide." Oh…and on closer inspection…uh-huh. Those were definitely Dungeons & Dragons books. Either Mal was using them for actual magic somehow, or she was just geeky and my aura vision was bullshit.

There was a mirror above the dresser. I leapt up and took a closer look at my reflection. Yup. Definitely a cat. My fur was midnight black, and my eyes were a striking, otherworldly shade of yellow. I had an aura, too. And I thought I could make out a tether between my own aura and Mallory's, linking us together as familiar and mage.

She was stirring again. I hopped back onto the bed, and she propped herself up on one elbow to smile blearily at me. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," I said back. "Sleep okay?"

"You were in my dreams, I think," she said, sitting up and stretching. "I mean, it felt like the real you, not a dream version of you."

"Yeah, I felt it too. We were in a lecture hall from my Communications class. But I think the students there were your classmates, not mine."

"Yeah. I think that matches mine. Weird." She rubbed her eyes, brushing her long hair aside with her hands and rotating her legs around to sit next to me on the edge of the bed. "How are you…uh…how are you holding up?"

I flicked my tail. "It's…an adjustment. But I'm okay so far, I think. Thanks."

"I was planning to have us spend today getting to know each other. Show you around a little, maybe cast a spell together, help you get used to being a familiar, and, you know, uh…make friends." She blushed a little. "But, um, it's okay if you don't want to. I mean, I don't really know how, anyway? To just…make friends with someone, out of the blue."

"I'm not exactly an expert at it myself," I said. It was true. The only person I was really close to, outside of my parents and my little brother, was my roommate-slash-bestie Isabella. We bonded a lot in two years of housing together. And she was probably worried, since I didn't come home last night. If my phone hadn't been left behind in Davis with the rest of my possessions, I'm sure I would have gotten at least half a dozen frantic notifications from her by now. Izzy is a worrier. I'd have to contact her somehow, tell her I was okay. Not that I'd know how to even begin to explain the situation I was in.

But in high school, I was a true loner. The quiet girl in the corner of the cafeteria. I got along with people okay, but I could never seem to breach the gap between acquaintance and friend.

I felt Mal's cocktail of hope and anxiety through our empathic bond as she waited nervously for my answer, and I thought about how it would have felt for me, if I had been able to bond with a familiar when I was her age. God, it would have been the most exciting thing ever to happen to me, wouldn't it? A friend so close that our souls were literally linked together. I would have killed to have something like that. Could I be that person for someone else?

I mean, I was also, you know, a cat. What else was I supposed to do? Hitchhike back home? Unless she could magic me back somehow, we were stuck together one way or another. Why not make the best of it?

Besides, she seemed sweet. And we'd be doing magic together! That's even cooler than accounting, and, to be clear, accounting is already super cool.

"Okay," I said. "Yeah! Let's be friends."

She smiled and pulled me into a gentle hug. Our touch was electric.

Chapter Text

"The bond can be broken," she explained over breakfast (cereal for her, tuna and a saucer of milk for me). We sat at a table in her kitchen, which was well-stocked and clean. She was in a chair. I was on the table. "The book says I should be able to dismiss you. But I don't have anything that explains how to dismiss you, just a vague assurance that it's somehow possible. And…there would be consequences."

"What kind of consequences?" I asked.

"Breaking a bond like this is…it's violent, disruptive to the spirit. It would be incredibly painful, for both of us, and it would leave behind wounds in both our bodies and our souls."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. It would heal over time, eventually, but it would be a horrible trauma. Physically, mentally, and spiritually." She paused in thought. "Also, I don't know if it would even undo the transmutation effect."

"So even if we broke the bond, I'd still be a cat?"

"Maybe. Maybe not? It's possible the transmutation is sustained by the bond and would be undone along with it. But it's also possible that it only needed a single burst of power to work, and there isn't any ongoing energy flow to cut off. I don't know for sure. None of this was in the manual. Sorry." She grimaced apologetically.

"Damn," I said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm adjusting to, uh, this shape, like, a lot better than I thought I would. Maybe that's part of the spell. But I also like having the ability to, you know, open doors, and stuff."

"Oh! That should actually still be possible!" she said, perking up. I tilted my head in interest. "Um, in a limited fashion, I mean. The version of the spell I used? It should allow you to assume a human form, temporarily."

"Oh! Really? That's great! How do I do that?"

"It's a verbal component. Hang on a second." She stood up and headed back to her room, then came back with two books—her diary, and her Player's Handbook.

"Okay," she said, sitting back down and opening the Player's Handbook. "See, this chart here shows all the abilities a familiar and master are supposed to gain through their bond as we grow more powerful together. That's the default version."

I looked at the page. It looked like normal RPG manual text, as far as I could tell. I was never a D&D player, but I had played enough video games to recognize most of the terms. According to the charts, we should have simple empathic and magical links, allowing us to project our emotions to one another, and allowing me to act as a focus to enhance her spells in minor ways. Also, I should be more resilient to physical harm than a normal cat, and she should gain enhanced perception abilities from my proximity. And we could talk to each other—that much I knew already—but it looked like that was limited to just each other, so any human besides her would only hear cat noises when I spoke to them. Although if she was high enough level, I should also be able to talk to other cats, for whatever that was worth.

"I don’t see anything about transformation here," I said.

She opened up the other book and flipped through it. It looked like about a third of it was full of notes and drawings, and the rest was still blank. "Well, that’s over here." The page she pointed to was not normal text—it was a mess of arcane diagrams and shorthand that I couldn’t decipher, all written in multiple different colors using what might have been glitter gel pens. "This is my spellbook. I used a few metamagic tricks to customize the spell."

"What did you change?" I asked. "I can’t read…arcane script, or whatever that’s written in."

"It is arcane script! Good catch! Sorry, I wasn’t sure if our link would let you understand it…um…anyway, basically, I tweaked it to use different material components, you know, stuff that I can actually get at the local stores. And I incorporated some filtering parameters into the secondary focuses, which I think I already mentioned last night. I pushed the alertness bonus back in order to unlock some of the communication abilities sooner, which is why I can understand you when you talk; I figured that would be important. And I built in a shapeshifting effect, so you should be able to take on a different form for about half an hour a day—either human, or a bigger cat, or a sort of human-cat hybrid form? I thought that was pretty cool, and it didn’t take a lot of energy to tack on once I already had the rest, since it’s so similar!"

Her eyes sparkled as she discussed the nuances of her spellcraft. I didn’t need an empathic link to see her passion. It made me smile. Well, okay, to the extent that cats can smile.

"I had to give up some of your natural armor bonuses to make it work, otherwise the ritual would take more energy than I have," she continued, "but that’s okay, right? You should still be really smart, and fast, and I thought, I mean, being able to get around better in a human world, that’s gotta be worth it, even for a limited time? It should improve as we level up, but, still, I did okay, didn’t I?"

"Yes! I mean, we should test it first, and make sure it works. But yes, thank you! That was a brilliant idea. If I were a regular cat, I bet I would have loved it too."

She beamed.

"So how do I do it? What’s the verbal component that you mentioned?" I asked.

"Ah, well, so, it’s a simple command phrase. I left that part unfinished because I figured you might want to help pick what it is. It’s customizable. So is the appearance of your human form, mostly."

"So I can look like…me?"

"Your hair and eye color are set by the spell. But other than that, as long as I can draw it, anything should be fine. Within the scope of normal human variation, of course—I can’t, like, give you four extra boobs, or anything." She blushed. "Sorry, that’s, uh, not a good example. Sorry."

"If you can get me on the internet, I can find you a photo of me on social media to use as a reference." That made me think about Izzy back in Davis. "And if you could log me in, I really ought to contact my roommate. She’ll be worried sick."

Mallory winced. "I’m really, really, really sorry, Katelyn. God, I didn’t even think…you must have a whole…I mean, your friends, and, and family, and…I never meant…"

"I know," I said. I touched her hand, hoping that the physical contact would help keep us both grounded. "It sucks. But it means a lot to me that you apologized, and that you’re trying to do right by me. Also, you saved my life! That’s worth a little slack."

Her eyes filled with determination, and she slammed both of her books closed in one fluid motion, causing me to jump back in surprise. "Okay!" she said, leaping out of her chair again. "I’m going to do the best I can! I owe you that much! Let’s do some magic!"

She faltered for a second. "I mean, internet! Let’s do some internet, first, and, and then do the magic after. Because, pictures, and um, communication! Stuff!"

Chapter Text

Mallory’s desktop background was from Little Witch Academia, because of course it was. She sat at her desk chair, working the keyboard and mouse. I sat on her lap, peering up at the screen. She was warm, and something about it just felt right. I think she thought so too, because every so often she would absentmindedly stroke my fur. It was nice.

"You still use Facebook?" she asked, wrinkling her nose a little as I told her my username and password. "I didn’t think you were that old."

I shrugged. Well, I tried to shrug. Feline bodies aren’t really built for it. "The CEO is a fuckwad and the news feed is basically useless, but the rest of the functionality still works, mostly," I said. "It’s not so bad."

I had 12 new messages.

Isabella J: Hey, are you okay? You didn’t come home last night.
Isabella J: Are you there? You’re not answering your texts.
Isabella J: Pick up your phone, Katie! 😠
Isabella J: See, most people, I would think they’re out with someone. But I know you.
Isabella J: I’m not saying you couldn’t get some if you wanted to!
Isabella J: I’m just saying, you probably wouldn't want to. And even if you did, you would bring your groceries home first.
Isabella J: Dammit Katie you take your phone off silent right now!
Isabella J: Fuck. I don’t know where you are, but the police were just here asking about you. What the hell happened? Are you okay?
Isabella J: Please please contact me if you’re okay.

Corey W: Hey, the police called us asking if you had made any contact with us today, or if we received any ransom demands? They said you went missing. Mom is freaking out. What’s going on? Are you alright?
Corey W: Apparently they found your bike, your clothes, and a bunch of your stuff in a heap in the middle of the road, including your wallet and phone and keys? WTF? Were you kidnapped? LMK if you can, I’m worried about you.
Corey W: Please be okay.

We were both quiet for a moment. I was thinking about what the hell I was supposed to tell them. And I could sense that Mal was thinking about just how badly she had overturned someone else’s life, which, yeah, fair.

"So…your roommate, and your brother, I’m assuming?" she finally said. "What should I say?"

"I guess we start by saying, ‘I’m okay. It’s hard to explain.’ And then after that, uh…well, are we even allowed to explain what really happened?"

She typed out my laconic response and hit send, then repeated it in the other chat window. "What do you mean?"

"Well," I said carefully, "I’ve never heard of magic being real. Is that because it’s a secret? Is there some kind of masquerade that you and all the other witches are required to maintain?"

She shook her head. "Not really. I mean, it is a secret, but that’s not a rule or anything. It’s just what our culture is like. Magic-users are very insular, even from one another. I don't even have a teacher, really—I've just been learning from my grandmother's spellbook, and getting some tips from a private Discord server for practitioners. And it’s usually dangerous to let ordinary people know about magic, so we try to avoid making a big spectacle of ourselves. 

"Oh, I’m a wizard, by the way, not a witch! The methodologies are very different, even though a lot of the underlying principles behind the two arcane traditions are similar. Like, we can both have familiars, but only wizards can use books as a medium for preparing spells. Witches focus more on cauldrons and potions, I think? I don’t actually know any witches. I do know a bard, but that's—ooh! A reply!"

Isabella J: What happened? When are you coming home????

"Tell her it’s a long story, and I might be away for a while, but the important thing is I’m not hurt, and the thing with the police is a misunderstanding." Mal dutifully relayed my words.

Three more notifications appeared.

Isabella J: I was really scared for you, you jerk! You should have called or texted. 😡
Isabella J: Where did you even go? You’re not dropping out of the semester, are you?

Corey W: That’s exactly what a kidnapper pretending to be you would say! 😮

"I am sort of a kidnapper pretending to be you," said Mal. "I mean, I sort of did kidnap you, and I am typing these messages."

I laughed in spite of everything. It came out sounding like a purr. "I really don’t know what to tell them," I said.

"Do you want to tell them the truth? Like I said, it’s not against the rules or anything. It’s a pretty embarrassing truth for me, but I owe you that much."

"I don’t think they would believe the truth."

"Oh, definitely not. Nobody above the age of, like, six ever does unless they see it with their own eyes. But it’s up to you, Kate."

As I pondered what to say, I was interrupted by a BLOOPY-BLEEPY-BLOOPY-BLEEPY noise. "Shit, Izzy is starting a video call!" I said, panicking a little bit.

"Do we answer it? What do we do?!" Mal said, graciously reciprocating with an equal amount of panic.

I made a split-second decision. "Okay! We’ll just…we’ll tell the truth, and she’ll freak out, but…I don’t know. Let’s bite the bullet. Go ahead and pick up."

Bloop. Mal pressed the button. An androgynous woman with light-brown skin and electric blue hair appeared on the screen, with our shared apartment in the background. "...The fuck are you?" she said.

Mallory waved nervously. "Hi! You must be Isabella? Um, I’m Mallory Avalon. I’m, uh, a friend of Katelyn."

"Well, where the fuck is she, and why are you answering her phone?" Izzy replied matter-of-factly. Yup. That’s Izzy for you. Straight for the jugular. She’s one of the fiercest people I know, and she’s not one to beat around the bush. 

Mal stammered a little. "So, ah, funny story! She—"

"Wait!" I said.

"What?" said Mal, looking down towards me.

"I didn’t say anything," said Izzy, glaring fiercely.

I pointed at the screen. "If we’re going to explain this, we might as well add Corey to the call, too. He’s going to have the same questions. It’ll save time."

Mal squinted at the screen. "How do I do that?"

"I think there’s an option for it somewhere in the dropdown menus," I said.

"Oh! I think I see it. Give me a second."

"Are you talking to your cat? What is happening over there?" Izzy said, the stony glare shifting into a confused frown.

"Sorry, Isabella," said Mal. "I’m just going to add Katelyn’s brother to the call, okay? We think he’s going to want to hear this story too."

"‘We’ meaning you and Katie, or ‘we’ meaning you and your cat?" Izzy was sounding increasingly impatient as more bloopy-bleepy sounds heralded Corey’s arrival, and my little brother’s face appeared on the screen.

"Hi Izzy! And…Kate?" he said. "No, hang on, who are you? You’re obviously not my sister, and you don’t look like a kidnapper. You’re too…pink. No offense." Corey is three years younger than me and several inches taller, with short brown hair and a quick wit. We grew up together, and we’d always been close; he knew me better than just about anyone.

Mal took a deep breath. "My name is Mallory Avalon, and I’m a friend. Kate was in an accident, but I pulled her out of danger before she could get badly hurt. She’s fine, and we’re here together at my home in Sonoma County."

"Hey, that’s pretty slick," I said. "All technically true! Nice."

"Also," Mal continued, "I’m a wizard, and I accidentally turned her into a cat." She scooped me up and lifted me in the air to present me to the camera.

Well. Okay. Fair enough. I lifted one paw and waved. "Meow," I said.

Chapter Text

"That’s obviously bullshit," said Izzy.

Corey pointed his finger at his camera. "If you’re really my sister, then tell me something only Kate would know."

"Tell him he told me a secret about himself last month, and I can share it now if it’s okay," I offered.

"She wants to know if it’s okay for her to share the secret you told her last month," Mallory repeated.

Corey is gay. He came out of the closet to me last month. I don’t think he’s told anyone else since then. We're in the 2020s now—I don’t think anyone would be bothered by it. Mom and Dad would probably throw him a coming-out party if he told them. Heck, they already tried to do it with me when I came out as asexual! I had to talk them down to just a cake.

He scratched his chin. "Okay, go for it," he said. "I guess it's fine if Izzy knows, and Legally Blonde over there is basically a complete stranger, so I don't really care what she thinks."

"Corey, whoever this girl is, there's no way that she's a wizard. She looks like she's fourteen years old!" said Izzy.

Mal set me down on top of her head and huffed. "Okay, first of all, I'm seventeen, thanks. Secondly, I am so a wizard! Thirdly, why am I 'Legally Blonde'? I don't know what that means!"

"The secret is that he's gay," I said, flopping across her shoulder.

"...and fourthly, the secret is that you're gay!" she finished.

"Also, you're Legally Blonde because you're a conventionally attractive blonde white girl in pink pajamas," I explained.

"You're Legally Blonde because you're a cute blonde white girl who wears pink, and yes, that was the secret, fair enough!" said Corey. We're on the same wavelength sometimes.

"Oh damn, really?" said Izzy. "Welcome to the other team! We have cookies." Isabella is openly transgender and pansexual. We're a very queer household.

"Anyway, I’m convinced," said Corey, crossing his arms. "I haven’t told anyone besides Kate, and I can’t think of how you would know without her telling you. So either you’re telling the truth, and you’re a wizard who turned my sister into a cat, in which case, that’s hilarious; or you’re pulling a prank, and Kate is just out of frame, and the cat is the second-coolest puppet I’ve ever seen, after Miss Piggy, in which case, that’s hilarious too, and I applaud you. Either way, she isn’t dead in a ditch somewhere, so I’m here for it."

"Miss Piggy is a muppet, not a puppet," I said, indignantly. "How many times do I have to explain that to him?"

"She wants to know how many times she has to explain that Miss Piggy is a muppet, not a puppet," Mal repeated.

"At least once more, dear sister," said Corey, smiling broadly.

Izzy frowned. "I agree that you don’t seem like a kidnapper, and Corey’s logic is…weird, but it isn’t wrong . But there’s still a lot that doesn’t add up. I mean, Sonoma County? That’s like a ninety-minute drive. Why would you bring her all the way there?"

"Well, I mean, I didn’t exactly drive there and pick her up?" said Mal. "I teleported her here, and she showed up on my end as a cat."

"That does explain why the police said her clothes were left behind on the ground," said Corey. "I never figured her for a streaker."

"No," said Izzy firmly. "Bullshit. Give me the real answer."

Mal threw her hands up. "Fine!" she said, frustration bleeding through into her voice. "Whatever! Kate and I are working on a way to turn her back, okay? If it works, I’ll just have her call you, and she can tell you in her own voice. Hell, feel free to come here in person and see her for yourself. I’ll send you the address! If she’s not presentable by then, you can ask her to work a Ouija board."

"Fine!" came the reply. "Send your address, then! I’ll see you in an hour and a half! And if this really is a stupid prank, Mallory Avalon, then you are going to pay for my gas money, do you hear me?"

Corey raised his hand. "Can I come too? I don’t have anything else planned today, and I would love to meet the cute kitty-cat version of my sister."

"I’ll pick you up on the way," said Izzy, and she hung up.

"She should be by our place in about 10 minutes," said Corey. "I better get ready. Mallory, it was nice to meet you, alright? Take good care of Kate. And Kate, if that really is you, or if you're just out of frame, don’t worry. I promise I will be making cat jokes at you for the rest of our lives. Love you! Bye!" And then my brother hung up too.

Mal closed her eyes, took three deep breaths, then opened her eyes again and typed her address into Izzy’s chat box. A little 👍 reaction popped up underneath it. A peace offering, I hoped.

Chapter Text

It took about half an hour for Mal to finish her sketch of my human self to her satisfaction. It was a good likeness of me. Before she started, she asked if I wanted to adjust anything about my appearance, and I thought about it for a minute before I declined. If this was going to be my only human form, I wanted it to be me, or as close to me as possible. To my slight embarrassment, she started by drawing me without any clothes, then added underwear, and then a simple outfit of jeans, a blouse, and a light jacket. I guess to include clothing in the transformation, it had to be layered on. She was embarrassed about it too; it obviously wasn't the first time she'd done figure drawing before, because she was very good, but it must be different when the person you're drawing is sitting in your lap. Whenever she caught a glimpse of me watching during the less-clothed parts, a blush would creep across her face.

I didn’t bother to correct her on any of the, ah, more sensitive details that she didn’t have a reference for. They were close enough, and she looked like she might keel over and die of awkwardness right there on the spot if I brought it up.

She also produced a gorgeous sketch of a large panther with sleek black fur, which she had prepared in advance. You could feel the power and grace exuding from its lithe silhouette. Excellent form. No notes.

"To choose a command phrase, you just have to touch the picture, visualize the form, and speak the phrase with intent," she said.

"That's all?"

"Well, you'll also need this," she added, holding up a Ditto plushie. "But yeah, that's all. From then on, you can activate or deactivate the transformation with just the command. I recommend a phrase that's short, but not likely to come up by accident in casual conversation!"

"I like your spell components," I said, batting playfully at the plushie.

"Thanks! It's not traditional, but once you understand the theory behind it, you can make a lot of substitutions if you want. I have a whole collection of little guys like this one. Are you okay?" She was watching me as I energetically pawed at the Ditto. It was way more entertaining to me than it had any right to be. The cat part of me couldn't help itself.

"Sorry," I said. "I think I have some cat instincts happening here."

"It's cute."

"Heck yeah it is! I am fuckin' adorable !"

We both giggled. Well, she giggled, and I sort of…snickered, or whatever the feline equivalent is.

"I think I'm ready to do the thing. Are you ready?" I said. Mal moved the drawings onto the floor, placed the plushie next to them, and gave a thumbs up.

"Touch the drawing you want to use, then speak the command." She was pushing feelings of encouragement and optimism across our link.

I touched the drawing of myself and spoke the words I'd decided on: "By my true self, transform!"

Auras pulsed around me, and I felt as if my body was dissolving into purple light. For a moment, the light was all there was. And then I stood up.

I was me!

I dashed to the mirror. I looked…mostly the way I remembered myself. I was clad in blue jeans, a plain white blouse, and a black jacket, just like in the drawing. My formerly brown hair had turned midnight black, the same color that I had been as a cat. My eyes looked human, but they were a striking shade of yellow behind my glasses (which somehow matched my prescription perfectly, because yay magic). Aside from that, everything was the same as I remembered it, right down to the mole on the back of my neck. I had a medium build, with a round face, feminine figure, roughly average height and weight (a bit taller than Mal), and long, wavy hair. In other words…me!

It was good to be human again.

Mal walked up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. I still felt the tingle of our bond as we touched. "You look good," she said, smiling gently.

"You did a good job," I replied, in my human voice, with my human mouth. I turned and pulled her into a hug. "This was a slice of normal that I needed. Thank you, Mal."

"Least I can do." She hugged me back even more tightly. "Thanks for not hating me. I was really scared that I would screw this spell up again, and…I'm glad I didn't."

"I'm glad too. But I never doubted you."

She pulled back, but kept her hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes. "Remember," she said. "You can only be like this for half an hour a day. It doesn't have to be continuous; you can switch back and forth. But the total time spent transformed can't exceed the limit, okay? Think of the spell as having a half-hour battery life that only drains when it's active, and recharges at dawn."

"What happens if I stay in human form too long?" I asked.

"The battery dies." I looked horrified. She must have caught the emotion, because she stepped back and gestured apologetically. "Not you! You don't die! Sorry! You're not the battery in this scenario! I just mean the transformation wears off and, um, if that happens, you go back to your base form. Which, right now, is a black cat. It would be abrupt, probably disorienting, but harmless. I’m 99% sure."

Oh. Okay. That wasn't too bad. Half an hour wasn't much time, but it was a hell of a lot better than nothing, and if my wizard said it was safe, then by golly, I'd take her word for it! She may have been a beginner, but as far as I could tell, she'd been nothing but honest and forthright with me.

"In that case, I should change back," I said. "I don't want to use up all my time before Corey and Izzy knock on your door demanding a demonstration."

Mal nodded. "Just say the command phrase backwards to dismiss the effect."

"Okay. Um…Transform! Self true my by!" Light enveloped me once more, and I found myself on four legs again. Despite the relief I had experienced when I saw a human reflection looking back at me a moment ago, my cat form still felt just as natural to me as my human form. I guess some people might have been disconcerted by that, and gotten angsty about losing their identity and whatnot. Me, I actually found it comforting. If Mal was right about how difficult and costly it would be to reverse her familiar spell, then I was probably going to be spending a lot of time as a cat. And if spending a lot of time as a cat was going to become part of my identity either way, I was glad that I didn't have to be miserable about it the whole time. I mean, there was still plenty for me to angst about already, so there was no real need to throw "My mind is rejecting my body on a fundamental level" on top of it all, y'know?

That said, I made a mental note to ask Mal whether I should be worried or not.

Testing out the other two forms went just as easily as the first. The panther form felt powerful , like a coiled spring. Mal had chosen to model it after a Bengal tiger rather than an actual black panther. I didn't have tiger stripes, just solid black fur, but I did have hundreds of pounds of muscle, ready to pounce. If I ever needed a combat form, hoo baby, my wizard delivered!

I had to touch both pictures at once to set the command word for the hybrid form. It was a gestalt of the human and the panther, stronger and more graceful than a normal human, with feline agility and reflexes. My features were human, except for whiskers, cat ears, retractable claws, sharp teeth, and a tail.

Honestly, I looked like I belonged at a furry convention, which, eh. That's not really my scene. It might have been Mallory's, though—she was turning beet-red from the neck up as she looked at me.

…Yeah, there sure were some feelings coming through our bond. She definitely liked this version of me. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Like I said earlier, I'm asexual, so I don't normally experience that sort of attraction. Sometimes I do, but only very weakly. So maybe I was misreading things out of inexperience. Either way, I think it was awkward for both of us. I changed back.

Once she was done cleaning up the ritual area, I had to ask: "Hey, by the way, what's the deal with the D&D books? Was Gary Gygax a secret wizard, or did you just adapt techniques from there, or what?"

"Well, it's a little of both, really," she said. "I don't know if Gygax was a practitioner, but apparently at least one or two folks behind the scenes at Wizards of the Coast during the early aughts were actual magic-users, and they snuck a lot of real magical principles into the books! Almost all of the magical theory in there about schools and types of magic, and different casting traditions, and even most of the individual spell descriptions—totally accurate.

"The trouble for me is, the people writing it were bards, not wizards, and even though they covered wizard magic too, they did it from a bardic perspective. I have to do a lot of…translating, basically, in order to adapt it to my style of casting."

"Bards are musical spellcasters, right?" I said. "I'm not a D&D girl, but I've played Final Fantasy and stuff."

"Yeah, basically!" said Mal. "Well, not really. Well, sort of. So, I've got this classmate at school, Marco, and he's a bard, and we swap techniques sometimes. He's the one who clued me in on this. His dad was one of the bards at WotC." She pronounced WotC like it rhymed with Yahtzee . It took me a second to figure out what she meant.

"Anyway," she continued, "bards use music or language as a medium in a way that isn't compatible with wizardry. Storytelling is a really common way for them to do that, and D&D is a storytelling game, so it's a natural fit. They aren't really as flexible in the kinds of spells they can cast, I mean, compared to wizards, but they're really good at illusion magic, and they’re even better at emotional magic. Inspiring, demoralizing, or influencing people. It's something that words and music are already good at, right? So imagine adding magic on top of that."

I imagined it. "Um, that's sort of terrifying?"

"You're...not wrong. But there's a mindset component to bardic magic too. You have to see the world in a certain way in order to use it, and that makes it really hard to abuse it in nasty ways. That's what Marco says, at least. It's why in the game, bards have to be aligned with chaos. Control and domination over others is literally antithetical to the magic itself. An asshole bard could use magic to sow all sorts of mischief and chaos if he wanted, but he couldn't, like, enslave people, or do a lot of the typical scary things you might associate with mind magic.

"Wizards don't have restrictions like that. We can be any alignment we like, as long as we study hard and focus. But I try to be Good," she added, a little bashfully.

"I have another question, since we're on the topic of mind magic," I said. This felt like a good time to bring up the question I had earlier. "I've been a cat for the better part of a day by now, and I was expecting that it would feel…weird. You know, like, body dysmorphia, yeah? But…"

"...But it doesn't feel weird, right?" she finished. "I think that's normal for transmutation effects. Your body instinctively knows how to move, and breathe, and be . If you didn't get some of that instinct when you changed shape, you wouldn't be able to function at all. So it comes included by default! You could probably take those safety measures out of a spell, if you wanted to use it on an enemy—I think I understand the principles well enough that I might be able to, if I wanted—but it would have to be on purpose, and it would be a real dick move, wouldn't it?"

I thought about it. "Yeah. I guess so. I’m glad that it worked the way it did. Honestly, it’s been a way easier transition than it had any right to be."

"I don’t know if anyone else would have been quite as cucumber-cool about it as you," said Mal. "But then again, I guess if you weren’t ready to be cool about it, the spell wouldn’t have snagged you in the first place? I really did set it up that way—I’m sure I did! I’ve been going over it in my head, and I think the only place I really fucked up was that I set up the ‘cat’ part wrong. I had it applying at the end point of the spell, instead of at the starting point. If I had done it right, it would have only been able to pick up cats. But the way I had it, it could pick up anyone, and they would be summoned as a cat. Pretty significant mistake, as it turned out, and it was definitely compounded by the fact that the focus items I used coincidentally happened to line up perfectly with you.

"But all the other parameters, they should have worked. Whoever I summoned would have to be cute, and smart, and not tied down to someone, and they’d have to have arcane potential, and…and they’d have to be okay with being summoned as a familiar."

"Um," I said, "and just to be clear, those factors were all on the…the starting point? They definitely didn’t change me at the, uh, the end point?"

Mal looked horrified. "No! I’m sure of it. In a calling spell, secondary focuses like that can only detect, sort, and filter potential candidates. They can’t alter anything. It’s…um, it’s kind of like a spreadsheet?"

I perked up. "I love spreadsheets!" Spreadsheets are the best. And I’m not just saying that because I’m an accountant. A lot of accountants probably hate spreadsheets. But not me. I’ve always felt that a well-organized spreadsheet is one of the greatest joys in life.

"Me too!" said Mal. My affection for her was growing by the minute. "So, it’s basically like the difference between setting up a filter to find the data you want, or using Ctrl + F? For simple operations, they can both give you the same end result, but…"

"Oh, I get it!" I said. "Filters change how the data is displayed, but they don’t change what the data is —at least, not in any of the ways we’re talking about. Whereas Ctrl + F is a search function, but it can also be a replace function at the same time."

"Exactly! So you see what I mean: the spell couldn't make you want to be here. It had to find someone who was already willing, or at least receptive. What's it like being an accountant?"

The abrupt change of subject caught me off guard. "What do you mean?" I said.

"Well, you said last night you were studying to be a CPA, right? Certified Public Accountant? What's it like? I've talked a lot about magic, but you haven't said much about your field. I don’t know much about accounting, but it sounds cool." She was totally sincere. A true rarity! Not many people out there would say accounting sounds cool and actually mean it. I mean, it is cool, but most people wouldn’t think it sounds cool!

"Accounting is awesome!" I said excitedly. "I’m not an accountant, not yet, I’m just training to be one, but it's mostly all about tracking and organizing and analyzing things."

"Seriously? Those are like, three of my favorite things! Do you really get to do that all day?!"

"Exactly what you work on and how you work on it depends on what type of accountant you are. Most laypeople only think about tax accounting, and bookkeeping (which is sort of its own thing), but there’s also financial accounting, managerial accounting, forensic accounting, international accounting, and more! I haven’t decided which branch I want to settle on, but I really like managerial accounting so far. It involves a lot of budgeting and forecasting and analysis at a strategic level for a firm."

She stared for a moment. "...A firm what?"

"Oh, sorry, a firm is basically what we call a business, or a company. Basically, any business entity that buys and sells goods and/or services for a profit."

I was rambling, but she didn't seem to mind. And, I mean, now I thought about it, she had rambled a lot about magic, and I hadn't minded either. We had complementary quirks! We were making friends with each other!

Chapter Text

Before our guests' arrival, there was enough time for Mallory to shower, change into jeans and a t-shirt, and show off a "prestidigitation" spell that magically dried and styled her hair, which made me incredibly jealous. Then my feline hearing detected a car pulling into the gravel driveway.

A few moments later, Corey and Izzey were waiting at the door. Mal answered, with me in cat form behind her. It was a little bit surreal, seeing them from this height. They were like giants.

"Hi," she said nervously.

"Hey, before you say anything, I want to apologize," said Izzy. "Corey and I were talking on the car ride over, and he said I crossed the line from protective over to mean. And he was right. Whatever is going on with Katelyn, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, and I’m sorry."

There was an awkward silence.

"And I’m Corey," said Corey, offering a handshake. "It’s good to meet you in person."

Mallory shook his hand, seeming a little dazed. "Um. Okay. Uh…come on in, both of you."

"Hi Izzy! Hi Corey!" I said, waving hello. I knew they’d only hear meow meow meow, but I was hoping I got the tone across. It was difficult to suppress the urge to zoom toward them for a tackle-glomp; however, in the interest of not startling them out of their socks, I resisted.

"Ooh, is that her?" said Corey, stepping inside and bending down to pet me. I tried my best to purr in an appreciative manner.

"Yeah, she says hi," said Mal. "Um, in case it wasn’t clear, I can understand her, because, uh, the details are complicated, but basically, magic."

Izzy stepped inside after him and closed the door behind herself, frowning. "I don’t believe in magic. But you passed Corey’s test, so I’m willing to hear you out."

"I’m going to be completely honest," said Corey. "I don’t really believe in magic either. If the two possibilities are, one, magic is real and you’re a wizard, or two, you and Kate are in cahoots to fool everyone for some reason, I’m not saying I’m 100% unwilling to entertain the former, but the balance of probability leans heavily to the latter. Surely you understand."

I nodded my head. "I do understand, and don’t call me Shirley."

"Hey, she nodded!" he said.

"She says she does understand, and don’t call her Shirley," Mal relayed. He handed her a piece of paper. "Oh! I guess you knew she would say that!" She handed the paper down to me. It said, I do understand, and don’t call me Shirley.

I tried my best to shoot him some fingerguns and a wink. The fingerguns were tricky, but I think I managed a wink and a point, which was probably close enough.

"May I?" said Izzy, crouching and reaching out both hands to pick me up. I obliged, jumping into her arms.

She petted me gently and scratched my head. It felt nice. "You’re not a puppet," she said.

"Not last I checked," I said, shaking my head.

"And you can understand me?" she said.

I nodded.

"What’s three plus one?" Corey asked.

I tapped my paw four times.

"I’m pretty sure she’s not an animatronic either," said Izzy. "She’s fuzzy and warm and soft. This is a bonafide organic feline."

"Oh, so you only picked me up so you could check me for hidden strings, huh?" I said. "I see how it is!"

Mallory laughed. "She’s pretending to be offended that you only picked her up to check that, but I can tell she doesn’t really mind. She likes the skritches."

"We are rapidly eliminating the impossible, as Holmes would say, and the scales of probability are tipping," said Corey. "Mallory, you said on the video chat that you were trying to find a way to get her back to normal, and that you thought it would be ready by the time we got here. And it increasingly seems that she is, in fact, a cat. So whatever you were trying didn’t work?"

"No, it did! But it was more of a temporary, imperfect solution. She can more or less change back whenever she wants, but only for a short time, and there’s a pretty hefty cooldown period afterwards," Mal explained.

I nodded.

"Can she change back now, in front of us?" said Izzy. "Because if so, that would really speed things up for me, belief-wise."

"She can," said Mallory. "And I have spells I could cast that would probably convince you pretty definitively as well. But she was having fun, so I thought I’d let her tease you a little bit first."

I nodded again. She was right on the money. I was totally enjoying myself. There was no way she didn’t pick it up on her end of the empathic link. But it seemed like the jig was up now.

I hopped out of Izzy’s arms and spoke the words to become human again. When I emerged from the cocoon of violet light, both my brother and my roommate were picking their proverbial jaws off the floor.

"Okay," said Corey. "I’m not saying I can’t think of any alternative explanations for that light show, but I am one hundred percent out of any alternative explanations that do not include the assumption that magic is fuckin’ real, yo."

"Agreed," said Izzy. "Magic is fuckin’ real."

"It surprised me too!" I said. I pulled both of them into a good old-fashioned human-style group hug. "Kind of hard to deny it when you’ve been turned into a cat, though!"

"Are you okay? Fuck, you were a cat a second ago, Katie! And what’s up with your hair?" Izzy said, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. "And your eyes?"

"I have a lot of questions, and most of them are probably stupid," said Corey. "Answer hers first. I’m sure they’re more important."

I broke off the hug and moved to put my hand on Mal’s shoulder, smiling broadly. "It’s a cosmetic side effect of the transmutation. But Mal here is basically a prodigy. If there’s an answer, she’ll find it."

She beamed. "Thanks, Kate!" she said. "I’m, uh, I’m going to have to do more research, I think. It could take a little while."

"I seem to recall that you," said Izzy, pointing at Mal, "said you turned Kate into a cat by mistake. And I am also observing that you," pointing at me, "do not appear to be furious about this at this time. Should I take this to mean that I, also, should not currently be furious about this?"

"That is correct on all counts," I said. "She did turn me into a cat. I was upset at first, but we worked it out, and we’re friends now. You officially have my blessing to cool your jets."

"Oh, thank God," said Izzy, visibly relaxing. "I’ve been on high alert all day. It’s exhausting."

"Do you want to hang out and order pizza?" said Mallory. "I have my mom’s credit card."

"Fuck yes!" said Corey. "I just went on a road trip, found out magic is real, my sister is a cat, and now we get to have pizza, too? This is the best Saturday of my life!"

"Ninety minutes isn’t a real road trip, you goof," I said.

"Ssshh," he said. "Don’t spoil this for me."

"I’m down for pizza if it’s vegetarian," said Izzy.

Mal was already pulling up the food delivery app on her phone. "I'm not a vegetarian, but I do love vegetables! We can share a veggie combo pizza."

"Cats are obligate carnivores. Order me some chicken wings!" I said.

"I don’t think fried food is good for cats," said Mal.

"It’s not good for humans either!" I countered.

She nodded. "Fair point! Chicken wings for Kate. What about you, Corey?"

"Veggie combo sounds great. Can we get breadsticks too?" he said.

"One extra-large veggie combo, one order of plain chicken wings, one order of breadsticks, coming up!" Mal tapped in the credit card info and confirmed the order. "Should be here in about an hour."

"Hey, where are your parents, anyway?" asked Izzy. "Do they work on weekends?"

"Dad does," said Mal. "He’s a veterinarian. He isn’t on call 24/7, but he works pretty long hours sometimes. He’ll probably be back late tonight. Mom is out on a business trip, though. She works in sales, and she travels a lot. But I don’t mind being home alone. I’m used to it, and it gives me time to practice my spells without being distracted."

"Speaking of parents, you need to call ours, Kate," said Corey. "I told Mom and Dad that I heard from you, and that you said you were fine, but they’re going to want to hear your voice."

I sighed. "I better do it now, then," I said. "Mal says this shape won’t hold very long. Can I borrow your phone?" He nodded and dialed the number for me.

It went to voicemail. "Hey, it’s me!" I told the answering machine. "Just calling to say that I’m okay, and I’m safe. I was in an accident, and I lost my phone, but luckily a friend from out of town happened to be around to help. I can’t talk for long right now, but I’ll try to send you an email later, alright? I love you! Bye!"

I hung up and handed Corey’s phone back to him, feeling relieved that I didn’t have to have a real-time conversation with my parents right now, before getting the chance to figure out a better cover story than the shitty one I had going so far, which felt like it had more holes in it than Camp Green Lake.

"I can't hold this form for very long," I announced. "I'll have to change back to a cat soon. Before I do, are there any other questions that you want to hear me answer directly?"

"Yes," said Izzy. "First, what are you going to do about your classes? Second, how are you going to pay the rent for the rest of our lease? Third, how long are you planning to stay here? Fourth, what are you even going to do while you're staying here?"

Corey patted Izzy on the back. "I told you she'd ask the smart questions," he said. 

"Well, the first two are easy enough," I said. "I can't attend in-person classes as a cat, so I'm going to ask to take an 'incomplete' for the semester. And I can cover the rest of the rent out of my savings, so don't worry about that! I won't leave you high and dry."

About five years ago, my dad started doing consulting work for several big tech firms, an overpaid job in an overpaid industry, and our family quickly shifted from lower middle class with a tight budget to upper middle class with enough savings to pay my way through college. While I didn't have access to unlimited funds, I was comfortable that money wouldn't be an issue.

"As for time and what to do with it, I'm not entirely sure," I continued, "but I suspect I'll be staying here a while, due to certain details of the spell that brought me here. The short version is it also bonded me with Mal on a metaphysical level, if we aren't really careful about it, breaking that bond could be very dangerous for both of us."

"An accurate summary," Mal chimed in. "I'll also add that I'm not a very high-level wizard yet, and I simply don't have a lot of expertise about undoing spells. It's entirely possible that there's a super easy answer that I just don't know about, and after a week or two of research, I can have her back to normal. It's also possible that I'd need to gain another seven or eight levels in order to have magic strong enough to change her back without also doing the spiritual equivalent of breaking half the bones in each of our bodies at the same time, in which case it could be years before a solution is viable."

"In other words, it's too soon to know," said Izzy.

"Right," I said. "I like being human, but I'd rather spend more time as a cat than rush into a quick fix and break my soul by accident. It'll take however long it takes. In the meantime, I was thinking I'd spend some time studying, um, magic. Since I'm conveniently soulbonded with a fledgling wizard."

Izzy furrowed her brow, but Corey's eyes suddenly went wide. "Oh shit!" he said, breaking into laughter. "A cat, soulbonded to a wizard? You're her familiar!"

"Yeah," I said, blushing a little. "That's, uh, that's pretty much the deal."

"And your so-called accident that she helped you out of by summoning you at just the right time," he continued. "You're a fucking isekai protagonist!"

"I was about to be run over by an eighteen-wheeler at the time, so yes, that is essentially accurate," I said. "I think the whole 'I'm not dead' angle made me a lot more charitable towards the whole affair."

"This is making a little more sense now," Izzy said slowly. "I was trying to figure out how you could possibly be so casual about this. But I think I'm getting it. You don't see this," she gestured around at Mallory's living room, "as the disaster that screwed up your life. You see it as a new lease on a life that otherwise would have been screwed up a lot worse by an entirely different disaster."

I nodded.

"And your soul is bonded with Mallory, so even if you wanted to leave, separating from her would be problematic for you in multiple ways," she continued. "You're a captive of the situation. But she's obviously aware of that, and is doing her best to respect your needs. The fact that she invited us here and agreed to tell us everything is proof enough of that. If she were planning to abuse her position of power over you, giving me her home address would have been a damn stupid move."

"I wanted to show as much good faith as possible," Mal agreed. "The power dynamics involved here did not escape me. I have a duty of care."

"Hey, wait a second," I protested. "Of the two of us, who’s the adult? I’m older and wiser, right? Shouldn’t I be the one taking care of you?"

"You have maybe, um, five minutes left before you turn back into a cat," said Mal.

"At which point, you'll be completely reliant on Mallory for basic tasks like speaking and manipulating objects," Izzy added. "I mean, I'd be happy to take you back with me and take care of you myself, if that was what you wanted! But I can't talk to cats, Katie, and I definitely can't help you reverse the spell."

"Plus, since she’s a wizard, she’d be way more powerful than you even if you weren’t a cat," Corey pointed out. "She could probably blast you with Magic Missiles, or light you on fire with her mind, or capture you in a Pokéball."

"Grumble grumble," I said. "I concede the point. Transform, self true my by." I turned back into a cat.

"For the record!" Mallory said forcefully. "Any idiot can shoot missiles or set someone on fire. The first one is called a ‘gun’ and the second one is called a ‘blowtorch.’ I didn’t even bother trying to learn spells to do those things because I’m not interested in murdering people." She glared.

Corey fidgeted in his seat. "Okay, fair point. Sorry."

She thought for a second. "I could definitely capture Kate in a Pokéball, though."

"Please don’t," I said.

Chapter Text

Cats are supposed to eat meat. They are not supposed to eat seasoned fried dough wrapped around pieces of meat. I was entirely prepared to learn this fact the hard way, but sadly, more responsible heads than mine prevailed, and my human cohorts insisted on peeling away the outside of my boneless chicken wings, even though the outside is the best part. Boo.

"Sorry, Kate," said Izzy. "Your digestive system just doesn't handle this stuff properly. And if their seasoning includes onion or garlic, it could make you really sick."

"But I like onion and garlic!" I complained.

"Yes, we know you like onion and garlic," said Mal, employing the time-honored technique of repeating the other half of a one-sided conversation for the benefit of other listeners. "Practically everyone likes onion and garlic. They're among the world's most beloved flavors. They're also toxic to cats. I'm not going to poison my familiar."

"You could poison me a little," I grumbled.

"No, I can't poison you just a little," said Mal firmly. "If you want seasoning, I can use magic to change the flavor of your food directly, okay?"

Say what now? That’s a thing? This was a revelation! If I were a cartoon, my eyes would be doubling in size and my pupils would be turning into little stars or hearts or something.

"In that case, I bow to your superior wizardry!" I said. "Lemon and garlic flavoring, please!"

"Lemon and garlic flavor, coming up," she said, making a gesture as if she were sprinkling something over my food. Sparkles fell gently from her fingertips and settled onto the chicken before disappearing.

"This is the new coolest thing I’ve ever seen," said Corey, with all the reverence that was due. "Kate, your transformation sequence is out. Mallory, your flavor sparkles are in. Can you make my pizza taste like strawberry ice cream?"

"Sure!" said Mal. "This is a super basic spell—a cantrip—so it doesn’t require a lot of magical energy. I use it all the time on my own food! It has, uh, a lot of other functionality too—I can clean stuff, or change an object’s color or temperature, or use it to style my hair. Do you actually want me to make your pizza taste like strawberry ice cream, or was that just a hypothetical?"

"Nah, I’m good," said Corey. "Just extremely jealous. If all that stuff is basic magic, what do the advanced spells look like? Aside from, uh," he gestured to me, "y’know…that."

"And how does one become a wizard? Because I am also pretty jealous, not gonna lie!" said Izzy.

"For the first question, there are eight main schools of magic: abjuration, conjuration, divination, enchantment, evocation, illusion, necromancy, and transmutation," said Mal, counting on her fingers as she named each one. I sensed an incoming lecture, and sat up straighter to pay close attention.

"Abjuration is used for warding and countermagic," she said. "Conjuration is used for summoning, calling, teleportation, and creation. Divination spells involve knowledge and perception. Enchantment spells affect the mind and emotions of yourself or others. Evocation lets you manipulate energy and force in basically the same way that conjuration lets you manipulate matter. Illusion…is exactly what it sounds like. It creates illusions. Necromancy lets you manipulate vital energy. And transmutation lets you alter the physical shapes and qualities of creatures or objects. Some of the schools also have subschools within them, and some spells straddle two schools, or have no schools at all.

"I’m still a beginner, so I can only use Level 1 and Level 0 spell effects. They can do a lot, but they usually have significant limitations? So, from conjuration, for example, I can summon a simple Unseen Servant to help with chores and other simple tasks, but it’s not very strong or smart, and it can’t move very far away from me. From illusion, I can do a basic disguise glamer that changes my appearance, but it doesn’t last long, and I can’t cast it on other people. From divination, I know a Comprehend Languages spell that lets me understand any language, but it’s super short range: it requires physical contact. You get the idea.

"Conjuring a familiar is actually a pretty basic spell too? Arcanists like wizards are naturally receptive to a familiar bond in a way that creates a sort of potential energy that the conjuration can take advantage of! It's like how if you want to lift a boulder out of a pit, you might need two tons of heavy machinery, but if you want to drop a boulder into a pit, you just need one good shove.

"As for how to become a wizard, the defining trait of wizards is that we learn magic through intense study and research. Almost anyone can become a wizard if they work at it hard enough! The main qualifying factor is…well, we often say it requires intelligence, but more accurately it requires the ability to comprehend complex concepts and systems and hold them in your mind with perfect precision. Which is a form of intelligence, I guess. And if you also have innate magical potential, that helps a lot, even if it’s only a little bit. As far as I’m aware, magical potential is either inherited, usually matrilineally, or it’s bestowed upon you by a powerful entity, like a dragon or a faerie lord. I get mine from my mom’s side of the family. Not enough for me to be a sorcerer, though—sorcery is supposed to be a lot easier to learn than wizardry, but it requires a ton of innate magic in order to do anything more powerful than a cantrip with it. If you have enough raw power to be a sorcerer, you can do magic with only intuition and force of will. They're like the trust fund babies of magic-users.

"Anyway, there are some simple exercises I could teach you, if you really want to learn? Like I said, anyone can do it. That Prestidigitation spell I just cast is a good starting point for building a foundation of greater knowledge; it was the first spell I learned, actually! But if you don’t have the talent, it would take months and months of intense study and practice."

She finished the speech, and then blushed a little. "Uh…sorry for ranting," she said. "I get like that when I talk about magic."

"It’s true," I said. "I’ve noticed it. But please don’t apologize for being passionate! I like your rants. You’re really good at explaining things."

"Thanks, Kate," she said, stroking my back affectionately. "She told me she likes my rants, and I shouldn’t apologize for being passionate," she added, for the benefit of the others.

Izzy swallowed a bite of pizza and nodded in agreement. "She’s right; it’s good to have a passion. And that was very informative."

"I have a follow-up question," said Corey. "Dragons and fairies are real?"

"Um, I’ve never really met any," said Mal. "But yes, that’s what I’ve been told. They’re supposed to be very reclusive. Sometimes beings like that decide to grant a portion of their magic to a mortal who impresses or amuses them, turning that person into a special kind of sorcerer called a warlock. I've never met a warlock either."

We ate our food quietly for a while, and I let myself reflect a little bit on just how much my life and my entire understanding of the universe itself had changed in less than 24 hours. I had an incredibly intense near-death experience. Then I was yanked to safety at the last second, but I lost my humanity in the process. Then I learned my soul had been more or less inextricably bound to a teenage wizard, and, oh, by the way, magic was real, and it played by D&D rules. And not just magic, but also mythical creatures like dragons. Meanwhile, every single one of my routines had been shattered. Forget about brushing my teeth or going to class or compulsively checking my phone or stopping to buy bagels on the way home. That was all over.

I guess that was sort of a lot of trauma, wasn't it?

Eh. That sounded like a problem for Future Katelyn to worry about. Present Katelyn was busy being social, learning cool facts about magic, and eating chicken wings. Any potential psychological scarring could wait until the next time I was awake at night by myself with nothing else to think about. That's how that sort of stuff is supposed to work, probably.

"Hey, I have another question," said Izzy once she had finished her slice. "Mallory, are you in school?"

Mal nodded. "I go to a high school a little ways south of here. But I'm guessing what you're actually wondering is how I can take care of Kate if I'm out at school all day, right?"

"That's exactly right," Izzy said.

Ah, shit. That was actually a really good question. I hadn't even processed that my wizard would be out of the house for eight hours a day, and I couldn't exactly follow her around to all her classes.

"I was thinking I'd have her follow me around to all my classes," said Mal.

Huh. Okay. Um, fair enough.

"I have an anxiety disorder," she explained. "I take medication for it, but my doctor said my treatment could also include an emotional support animal, if I wanted? And my dad already talked to the school administration about the possibility, and they said they'd allow me to bring a cat with me to classes on a provisional basis, so long as you were well-trained and well-behaved."

"I don't know if I'm okay with impersonating a service animal," I said.

"It's not impersonating a service animal! It's being an emotional support animal," she explained, a defensive tone creeping into her voice. "They're a whole different legal category. The standards are a lot lower, and apply mostly to the animal's human companion, not the animal itself. I meet those standards, which means legally, you do too."

"The privileges afforded by the status are also a lot lower," Corey added. He had pulled out his phone and was already scrolling through what I assumed was a Wikipedia page on the subject. "If you were a service animal, the school would be legally required to let you look after Mallory. But for emotional support animals, the school should be able to set whatever policy they want, I think."

That was good enough to quell my ethical objections, and spending time in high school again didn't bother me. I'm an academic at heart; classrooms are my native environment. Besides, the alternative was staying at home by myself. Normally that would be fine, but normally I would also be able to spend that time reading, or surfing the internet, or playing video games. Without opposable thumbs, none of those things were viable. I could probably work a remote control to watch TV, but I'm a social creature, and I need enrichment, dammit!

"I guess that's fine, then!" I said, nodding in approval.

"Wait...before you agree, there is one condition," said Mal.

I tilted my head to one side.

"My dad, uh, he promised the school that he would personally examine my cat at his veterinary clinic. You have to have, you know, a clean bill of health, and stuff. He’ll probably want to vaccinate you against rabies and…whatever other shots cats are supposed to get." She grimaced. "At least you won't need to be spayed."

Corey snorted, choking back laughter. Izzy kicked him before he could make an insensitive remark.

"How much do your parents know about magic?" I asked. "Is your dad clued in?"

"How much do my parents know about magic? Oh, they know pretty much everything. I told them both all about it a little after I first started practicing wizardry." She giggled. "The way I sat them down for it, they thought I was about to come out as gay. Instead I came out as a wizard! And Mom was all like, is that what the kids are calling it these days?

"I actually am gay," she added. "Or at least I think I am. I'm not 100% sure. But I didn’t figure that out until later, and it seemed like it would be really embarrassing to go back for a re-do of that conversation."

"That’s neat," I said. "I’m asexual, myself."

"Oh, asexual, huh?" she said. "Cool. But, um, yeah! My dad knows. I even told my parents in advance that I was planning to conjure a familiar, so he’ll be expecting you. Um, obviously he doesn’t know about the little mishap with the spell yet, so he’ll be expecting a cat who suddenly gained human intelligence, not a human who suddenly became a cat. But he’ll treat you like a person, not a pet. Well, he might also treat you like a pet, because that’s just what he’s used to?"

I nodded. "Good enough for me! It’s been a while since my last physical anyway," I said, in a very lame attempt at a joke.

"In that case," said Izzy, "I think for our next item of business, we need to get you a new smart device. Apparently, your old phone is busted, or else I would have brought it for you. But I don’t see any reason why a cat couldn’t work a touchscreen, even if you might be a little clumsy at it."

"Agreed," Corey chimed in. "You need something in your life that you can control. And you need a way to communicate with the world outside Mallory’s bedroom. The internet is a fundamental part of our generation’s lives, and you deserve to have independent access to it."

They made very good points. I nodded in agreement, and turned to Mallory. "Mal, do you think you can hook me up with something like that?"

She bit her lip, thinking. "Um. Well. It’s a larger expense than I’m normally allowed without parental approval? But you all are right; this is something I owe to you. I’m sure once we explain the situation, I mean, they would have to agree to it, right?"

"There might also be financing options. You could pay on an installment plan and spread the expenditure over a longer period of time," I suggested. "That’s a really common offering to see from vendors."

"You’re right, an installment plan could also work," she agreed. "If the cost is broken up into smaller chunks, then it’s something I could afford right now. If Isabella can drive us to the store, I bet we could have one in your hands by the end of the day, probably!"

"I certainly can!" said Izzy. "And if we're all finished with lunch, then I'm ready when you are."

Mal stood up. "Okay! Let's go."

Chapter Text

We drove over to a mall in downtown Santa Rosa to do our shopping. The electronics store there had what we were looking for, and the sales representative there was even able to demonstrate some handy accessibility features in the software, as well as recommend some accessories designed to make computers easier to use for people with manual dexterity issues—something that we would definitely want to research for the future. The tablet computer we settled on had a large screen, an adjustable stand, and a big On/Off button that I could easily press.

And since we were at a mall already, I also requested that we stop at the furniture store, where I picked out a super cool cat tree with scratching posts, soft platforms, a little box to hide in, and a hammock for napping.

Why? Because cat trees are fucking awesome. I'd be damned if I was going to be stuck as a cat and not have my own personal fortress to climb and/or sleep on. Anyone else in my position would feel the same, I guarantee it.

Corey made fun of me for it. But I could tell he was secretly jealous.

On the drive back, we wedged the larger box in the backseat, next to where Mal and I sat together. As she answered some more of Corey’s questions about magic, she absentmindedly gave me pats and skritches, and I snuggled up close against her. I saw Izzy’s eyes flick up to look at us in her rearview mirror a couple of times, noticing the obvious affection we were showing one another, but her expression was hard to read.

The jangling of a notification sound from Mal’s phone startled me, and I instinctively jumped back. "Oh! Excuse me!" she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. I padded forward again, peeking at the screen. It was a text message from someone named Hannah, and it read, How did it go? Did the spell work?

Sort of, but there was a bit of a mishap. I’ll tell you about it at lunch on Monday, Mal texted back. "It’s from one of my friends," she said. "She’s the only other wizard at my school, so we swap spells sometimes when one of us makes a breakthrough."

Mishaps are how we learn! Excited to hear about it! 😍, came the reply.

"Spellcasters must not be very common, then?" Corey asked.

"Maybe about one percent of the general population?" Mal replied. "But most spellcasters are older. You don't see a lot of teen wizards for the same reason you don't see a lot of teen electrical engineers."

He furrowed his brow. "How do you find time to practice?"

"By slacking off in school, that's how," she said conspiratorially. "The type of intelligence you need in order to be a wizard lines up pretty well with the type of intelligence you need in order to do well on tests without studying."

"And your parents don't mind?"

She shrugged. "It would probably be an issue if I were trying to keep my magic a secret. But we were able to have an open and honest conversation about priorities and expectations, and we agreed that so long as my GPA doesn't slip below 3.0, we're cool."

We pulled into Mallory's driveway and unloaded our haul. Corey and Mal got started assembling the cat tree in the living room, while Izzy and I sat at the kitchen table to get the tablet set up, which gave us a moment alone together.

"You and Mallory seem pretty close," Izzy said to me, in a carefully neutral tone. "You're not usually so touchy-feely. Is that just a familiar thing?"

I hesitated, then nodded. Mal and I were becoming fast friends, and I didn't think it was just our bond at work, but the bond was definitely speeding it along, and I couldn't communicate that nuance very clearly with "meow." The physical contact thing was definitely part of the bond, though. Izzy's summary was close enough.

"I'm glad you two are getting along," she continued. "But don't forget about me, okay? You're still my bestie, even if your soul is magically entwined with someone else's."

I nodded again, nuzzling against her. She petted me. "You're acting a little like a cat, too," she said, smiling a little. "I can't tell how much is actual cat instincts and how much is just you playing it up for fun."

I held up one paw and tilted it left and right, trying to convey a little of column A, a little of column B.

"I may not have been a cat before, but I know a little bit about what it's like to have a body that doesn’t fit right," she said. "I want you to know, if it ever feels like too much, you can talk to me, okay? I understand some of what you must be going through."

"Thanks, Izzy," I said, nodding. "That means a lot." Of course, what she heard was meow, mrow, mereow.

"Well, maybe you can't talk to me, per se," she conceded. "But you know what I mean, right? Just message me, and I'm there for you. Any time, day or night, I promise."

I nodded again, and purred appreciatively.

Corey burst through the doorway. "We finished building it! Come and see!" he said. We followed him back to the other room, where Mal dramatically presented the cat tree in her very best Vanna White impression.

In a typical isekai manga, the protagonist is ripped away from their normal life by an accident and gets dropped into a different dimension. It's a portal fantasy—they're cut off from all their friends and loved ones and forced to adapt to a strange new world on their own.

Sometimes it's nice to be atypical.

Chapter Text

Once Izzy was satisfied that I was safe, settled in, and online, she was ready to head back home. I let her and Corey take turns hugging me goodbye. Izzy made me promise to keep in touch with her as much as I could. Corey told me he hoped I was feline okay and that he would cat- ch me later. Mal shook their hands and said how lovely it had been to meet them. And then they were off.

I watched from the doorstep as the car pulled away, carrying my connections to my old life with it.

Wait, no, that wasn’t right. I was totally still connected to my old life! We just finished establishing this! Cancel that metaphor.

I turned back to Mal. "Thanks for letting them come," I said.

"It was my pleasure. Your brother is fun. And Izzy is a little intense, but she's nice. I liked meeting them."

I leapt into her arms, and she bent to catch me. It was as smooth as if we'd choreographed it. "I liked seeing them," I said. "But also, we're soul-sisters now, so it's only right for you to be introduced to the people who are important to me."

"Soul-sisters, huh?" she said, thoughtfully.

"That's how I've decided to think of it," I declared. "I've lost my opposable thumbs. But I've gained a brand-new sister. And when I put it like that, it feels like a pretty fair trade, no?"

She smiled. "So you're adopting me? After one day together?"

"Yup! We're a team now. I mean, we literally shared our dreams. Even if we break the bond somehow, it won't undo that. You're stuck with me!" I flicked my tail playfully. "When your dad gets home, we're going to have to explain to him that he has a new adoptive soul-daughter."

"Yeah, there's a lot we'll have to explain," she said. "What should we do in the meantime? It'll probably be at least another two hours before he gets back."

An idea occurred to me. "Hey, guess what you haven't seen yet that has a runtime of about two hours and can be streamed for free on YouTube?"

And so we curled up in front of her laptop together to watch Legally Blonde: The Musical.

Chapter Text

"That was pretty good," said Mal, as the credits rolled across the screen. "I liked the production and set design."

"That may be the nerdiest possible thing to like about a musical," I said playfully.

She poked me. "You're a nerd too. You don't get to talk."

"Okay, you're right! I really liked the camera work on the recording. We can be nerds together. Anyway, I could tell you liked the music too." 

"Oh yeah, there were some bops in there for sure," she agreed. "And, with our empathic link…"

"Yeah, that was wild. Definitely glad we tried that," I said. She nodded in affirmation. Watching a musical together while empathically linked turned out to be kind of cool, actually. The music is designed to make you feel things, and those feelings bleed over. And when you're in sync, the feelings are compounded, so it's much more emotionally intense. I recommend it.

There was a noise from outside. "Ah, right on cue," I said.

"Hmm?"

"Sounds like your dad's home."

"But I didn't hear…oh, right, your ears are way better than mine, huh?"

"And my nose. But I'm not sure I've quite gotten the hang of that yet. There are a lot of different smells." I was pretty sure that once I could cut through the information overload, my enhanced sense of smell would be super useful. I just wasn't there yet.

"We could practice later, if you like," Mal suggested. "Set up some challenges, or something like that."

"Maybe! But first you should introduce me to your dad. How do you think he'll react when you tell him what happened?"

"Only one way to find out," she said, grimly.

I rode on her shoulder as she marched into the kitchen to meet him. "Hi Dad!" she called. "I, uh, I did the thing! Sort of!"

Mallory's father was a tall man, which made him positively brobdingnagian from my perspective. His clothes were practical and well-worn, and his face was clean-shaven, with dusty blond hair hanging just past his ears in loose curls. He might have been in his early- to mid-40s.

"Ah! So you did!" he said in a jovial baritone voice, eyes settling on me. "Bombay mix, I'm guessing?"

"I don't know what that is," I said.

"She doesn't know what that means," said Mal. "Um. Her name is Katelyn Winters."

"Well, Katelyn Winters, my name is Thomas Avalon. Mal's father. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. My daughter assured me you would be able to understand English."

I nodded.

"Yeah, um, about that," said Mal. "There was, uh, a bit of a mix-up? I, uh, I mean. Um…"

Hoo boy. This was tough for her. Telling her dad everything made it real to her, and I could feel the weight of the shame she carried as it started to overwhelm her.

Maybe I could take it from here.

I hopped down from Mal's shoulder and spoke the words to take human form. A moment later, I stood on two legs. I rested one arm over Mal's shoulders, and offered a handshake with the other, which he accepted with only mild surprise. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Avalon," I said. "Mal is trying to explain that she made an awkward mistake in her spell, which has caused a few problems for me. But it also saved my life, so I'm not complaining."

"Is that true, Mal?" he said, his brow furrowing with concern. "Did something go wrong? Are you both okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

"We're both fine!" she said. "It's just that Kate was, um, she…uh…well, I meant for the spell to call a cat, and instead, um."

"...It called a human, and turned her—me—into a cat," I finished. "Pulled me right out of the path of a runaway truck, actually. It was a bit of a shock."

He blinked.

"I'm not sure how to react to this information," he said carefully. "This whole magic thing is honestly still new to me to begin with."

"I understand how you feel," I said. "It was pretty overwhelming for me too."

He took a deep breath. "Alright," he said. "Mallory, I am not qualified to tell you whether or not it is morally correct to turn someone into an animal in order to save them from a runaway truck. That sort of philosophical dilemma is above my pay grade. It’s up to Katelyn to decide if what you did was wrong. However! I expect you to learn from this, and adjust your process, okay? That means double- and triple-checking your spells before you cast them, to avoid any more ‘awkward mistakes.’ Am I clear?"

"Yes. I’ll do better, I promise," she said meekly.

He turned to me. "And as for you! I’m truly sorry for your…um…inconvenience, and…uh…I’m sorry, I’ve lost my train of thought."

He was staring. I had started turning back into a cat right in the middle of his sentence, and I could definitely imagine how that might be distracting!

Whoops. Must’ve had less time left on the timer than I thought.

"She can’t sustain her human form for very long," Mal explained.

He took another couple of deep breaths, centering himself. Then he knelt down to address me. "Let me try that again," he said. "Miss Winters, you have my word that we’ll accommodate you in whatever you need to get through this. Am I correct in understanding that, as a cat, your vocal cords are not capable of human speech?"

I nodded. "Meow," I said.

"I can understand her, though, Dad," Mallory chimed in. "We’re bonded as mage and familiar, so we can communicate verbally as well as empathically."

He frowned. "That sounds like it has a lot of other implications, but we can circle back around to it later if we need to. For now, if it means you can translate, then that’s helpful, I guess? Nevertheless, I believe it is appropriate to establish a basic communications protocol to use with others. Do you agree?"

"Yeah, that makes sense," said Mallory. I nodded.

"We can go a long way with shake your head for no, nod for yes," he continued. "On top of that, I’d like to suggest that if you need someone to help or attend to you, use the Morse code for 'SOS'. Are you familiar with that?"

I nodded. It was "Dot dot dot, dash dash dash, dot dot dot." I tapped out the pattern with my paw to demonstrate.

"Good. You can also do it with your voice if you have to. I'll also suggest that quickly tapping one paw repeatedly means 'I don't like this, please stop'."

"Like tapping out of a wrestling match?" Mal said.

I nodded again. "Makes sense," I said.

"Good," he said. "Do you have any other suggestions?"

"I’ve been tilting my head to one side, like this, to indicate an interrogative," I said, tilting my head to one side to demonstrate. "And this little thing like this to indicate a ‘maybe’ or ‘I don’t know’ response to a question." I held up one paw and wiggled it from side to side.

Mal translated.

"That’s good," her father said. "Now, Katelyn, you should know that I am a veterinarian, and I’ve done lots of work with cats. So if you have any concerns or questions about medical or biological issues, please let me know. I’ll be happy to assist. And I’d like to bring you in for a basic checkup as well, just to make sure your cat’s body is in healthy shape—would that be okay?"

Nod. "I was expecting that," I said. "Mal told me it was a precondition if I wanted to accompany her to school."

"She was expecting that; I already told her she’d have to have a checkup before she could come to school with me," Mal explained on my behalf. "She doesn’t mind."

"In that case, I can see you tomorrow morning at my clinic—both of you girls together, please, since I may need you to translate, Mal. We’ll have more to discuss at that time. For now, is there anything else you need, Katelyn?"

I shook my head. My immediate needs had already been addressed for now.

"Then I’m going to shower and go to bed," he declared.

Mal hugged him. "Goodnight, Dad," she said. "Thanks for understanding."

He hugged her back and kissed her on her forehead. "Goodnight, Mal. And you as well, Katelyn."

Chapter Text

I settled into my new fortress in the living room while Mal changed into her pajamas. It was a super cool fortress, and it was very satisfying to climb on. I stretched out in the most comfortable section, ready to go to sleep for the night.

It didn’t feel right, though.

I tossed and turned for about 20 minutes, trying out the different platforms, but I couldn’t sleep. It was like there was an emptiness inside me, keeping me awake. Something was missing.

Mal appeared in the living room doorway, hair mussed like she’d been tossing and turning, just like me. "Are you feeling it too?" she asked.

…Oh. Right. Soulbond.

"I hope you don’t mind a little cat hair on your blankets," I said, hopping down to follow her back down the hallway to her room.

"I think I can handle it," she said.

She climbed back into bed, and I curled up at her feet. "I guess our link doesn't like us being apart for too long, huh?" I said, a little sleepily.

"I hope you don't get sick of me too quickly," she whispered in reply.

"So are we Salem and Sabrina, or are we Pantalaimon and Lyra?"

"If the second pair is a reference to our…to…" she yawned. "...To our apparent need to be in close physical proximity, it's an imperfect example, since Lyra and Pan separate from one another a lot in book five."

"I didn't know there was a fifth book," I confessed. "I only read the three."

"That’s okay, I’m just being pedantic anyway. I have the other books…you could catch up sometime, if you like. It's one of my favorite series."

"Explains why you were excited to conjure a familiar, huh? That and Pokémon…" I said.

She smiled at that. "Okay. True. You got me there."

We spent a minute lost in our own thoughts.

I broke the silence. "Are you really scared that I'll get sick of you?" I asked, as gently as I could manage.

She took a moment before answering.

When she spoke, her voice was even quieter than before. "Yeah. I’m always scared that people will get sick of me."

"Oh." I wondered who it was that had hurt her, to make her think that. But I didn't ask. Instead, I crawled up closer to her, and said, "In that case, I understand it's my duty as your emotional support animal to be available for soothing cuddles."

"Thank you," she whispered, and we snuggled together, feeling the electric tingle of our bond as we drifted into shared dreams.

Chapter Text

We were jolted awake by a knocking on the bedroom door, followed by Thomas’s voice informing us that we had to be out the door in 10 minutes.

It was just barely 6:00 AM.

Blech. Mornings. I guess you don’t need to be a teenager to be allergic to them.

Mal quickly got dressed in warm leggings, a pink dress, and a polka-dotted jacket suitable for California’s mild autumn weather. I didn’t bother to get dressed, since I was a cat. Then we dashed out to the car, and Thomas drove us to his workplace, promising that he would provide breakfast for us there.

The clinic was part of a complex of several commercial offices. It was obviously a small practice; aside from Thomas, the only other employee on duty was a receptionist who was brewing a pot of coffee when we arrived. Without my glasses, I couldn’t read his nametag, but I figured his name was probably Kyle, since Thomas waved at him and said "Good morning, Kyle," when we arrived.

I was escorted into what I guess was an examination room. There was a table, and some informational posters on the wall (which I, again, couldn’t read without my glasses), and, you know, cupboards and drawers and a sink and stuff. It was a familiar setup that reminded me of many of my past doctor visits, except that this time, it was all huge to me.

Thomas gave Mal some money, and she zoomed out to the vending machine in the hall. By the time she came back with a cup of yogurt, a packet of mixed nuts, and some peanut butter crackers, my new physician had washed his hands, donned his gloves, and taken the chance to look me over.

"I’d wager you’re an American Bombay, and if you’re not purebred, you’re damn close to it," he said. "The Bombay is the most iconic breed of black cat. The sheen on your coat and the color of your eyes are quite distinctive."

"If it helps, I can confirm that neither of my parents is a cat, at least not last I checked," I said. Mal translated in between bites of her breakfast.

He chuckled. "Yes, fair point. You also appear to be about two or three years old, and I have to imagine your true age is somewhat more mature than that."

I nodded. "She’s a few years older than me," Mal supplied helpfully.

"Say ah," he said. I opened my mouth, and he inspected my teeth. "What has she been eating so far?" he asked, directing the question at my wizard.

"Tuna, chicken, a saucer of milk," she said.

"Any adverse reaction to the milk? A lot of cats are lactose intolerant," he said, applying gentle pressure to me in several places—feeling for something, I guess? It was an odd experience, considering that just one of his hands might have been big enough to wrap around my entire body.

I shook my head. "I didn’t notice any digestive problems. I’ve never been lactose intolerant as a human." Mal dutifully repeated my answer.

He brought out a stethoscope and listened to my heartbeat. "Normally I would have some questions related to a cat’s use of a litterbox, but I don’t believe we have one of those at home yet."

"I’m perfectly capable of using a human toilet," I said, slightly embarrassed. "Just remember to leave the seat down, lid up, bathroom door open, and I’m sure I’ll be fine."

"I suppose that’s fair, for a human turned into a cat," he said, once Mal relayed my response. "I’d probably feel the same way, if I were in your shoes. Just try not to fall in. However, there is one piece of your dignity that I’m afraid I will have to insist that you sacrifice, and it pertains to your diet. And on that note, I’ll be right back. Wait here." He stepped out of the room.

"Five bucks says he’s about to tell you you have to eat cat food," said Mal.

I stuck out my tongue and made a blech face. "No bet, and also, yuck."

As expected, he came back with a small dish of wet cat food. I gave him my blech face, but he was undeterred. Actually, the cat food didn’t smell that bad, but it was the principle of the thing. "Yes, I know," he said, correctly interpreting my expression. "But the simple fact is, it’s very difficult to meet a cat’s nutritional needs on a diet of human food. You may not be having digestive issues yet, but if you eat nothing but table scraps, you’re going to run into problems very quickly. Please, try it."

I sniffed suspiciously at the dish.

"This is a gourmet brand," he added. "It’s popular with many of my feline patients. If I were you, I’d start here. The texture shouldn’t be too far off from canned tuna, and if the taste isn’t to your liking, I happen to know that my daughter is fully capable of altering flavors with magic."

Right. I forgot about that. I looked up at Mal. She shrugged. "He makes good points," she said.

"Alright, I guess I can try it," I said with a sigh. I tasted a bite of the slop. It was…actually, not as bad as I thought it would be. Pretty unappealing by human standards, but it had a meatiness to it that my feline body’s taste buds appreciated. "It could use some zing, but it’s…tolerable," I said.

Mal sprinkled some magic wizard sparkles over it. "How about now?"

I tried it again. This time it tasted like a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich. It was glorious. I nodded in approval. "I can work with this!" I declared.

"I’m glad," Thomas said. "I’ll pick up some cans at the grocery store later today. I’d also like to administer rabies and FVRCP vaccines, if you don’t mind."

I didn’t know what FVRCP stood for, but he was the expert, so I nodded.

The shots weren’t too bad. "You’re very well behaved," he said, as he finished stabbing me. "I suppose that makes sense. I’m just not used to having patients who simply…understand and consent to treatment. They can be cooperative in their own ways, but still, this is quite the luxury for me."

"You’re welcome!" I said.

"So she has a clean bill of health?" Mallory asked.

He smiled. "Indeed she does. Fit as a fiddle, so far as I can tell. She’s in excellent shape. There’s only one more thing we need before she’s ready to accompany you to school—assuming she wants to accompany you, of course."

"We talked about it earlier, and we both agreed it was best," she said, and I nodded in agreement. "It’s something for her to do all day instead of staying home by herself, and we’ve also learned that the way we’re magically bonded, it’s uncomfortable for us to be separated for too long."

"Uncomfortable to be separated? That seems very restrictive. Is it something I ought to be concerned about?" he asked.

"Don’t worry, Dad. It’s just normal wizard-and-familiar stuff. We’re fine."

"Well, if you say so," he said, furrowing his brow. "It sounds concerning, and I can't say I don't have reservations about it, but I trust you both to be mature, and to let me know if you need my help in that area, okay? For now, I have some paperwork for you. Give me a moment."

He retrieved a form from one of the drawers, and presented it to us. "It's essentially a doctor's note for the two of you, testifying that I examined Katelyn and she's healthy and safe to have around schoolchildren. You can show it to teachers and staff along with your other doctor's note. And there's a blank space for you to fill in the cat's name. I'm not sure if you want to use your real name, or if you want to present yourself to the public with a more traditional cat's name."

"I mean, your name is your name, right?" said Mal.

"Agreed, but I can see how calling a cat by an obviously human name would be strange for some people, and maybe attract more attention," I said.

She scratched her chin. "True. But then again, a cat in a high school is going to be strange and attract attention no matter what, don't you think?"

"I'm okay with 'Kitty' as a nickname," I suggested. "It's a version of my name that could also be a cat's name."

"By that standard, 'Kate' could be a cat's name, too," she pointed out. "I mean, ultimately, it's up to you. I'll call you whatever name you ask me to. But I think if it were me, I'd be clinging onto my identity for dear life."

I thought about it, then nodded slowly. "Okay. Put my real name down, and you can add your last name at the end, since I'm an adjunct family member."

"Katelyn Winters Avalon?" she asked. I nodded. Mallory took the pen and wrote Katelyn Winters Avalon in the blank space.

"That oughta do it!" Thomas said, adding his signature in a blank section at the bottom. "I'm touched that you included our last name."

"She said she's an adjunct family member," Mal explained.

He seemed pleasantly surprised at this. "Well, I'm sure if she wasn't before, we've made it official now! Welcome to the family, Katelyn Winters Avalon."

Chapter Text

Okay, look, here's the thing.

I was well aware that I was essentially rushing into multiple major life changes very quickly, maybe without a lot of consideration to the alternatives. It didn't escape me that I had apparently fully consented to abandon my life to become, to use the least generous terms possible, a pet. To a stranger. Who had, to again use the least generous terms possible, abducted me for that purpose.

And yes, it sounds absolutely insane when you put it that way. Just completely and totally bonkers.

But that wasn't how I was thinking of it. Let me put it a different way, okay?

I was in an accident. To be more accurate, I was in two, maybe three accidents at once. I was (almost) hit by a truck, and, separately and simultaneously, I was turned into a cat and bound to a wizard. I would gladly choose for none of those things to have happened. But they did happen. I didn't get the choice. And I couldn't just undo them and go back to how things were before—it simply wasn't physically possible. I didn't abandon my old life; my old life abandoned me. Frankly, accepting that ought to be considered emotionally healthy.

Once I got past that initial trauma, what did I see? I saw a lonely teenage girl who needed a friend. I saw that she was trustworthy, kind, and generous, and I liked her. She reminded me of myself in many ways. And I also saw that magic—some might call it fate—had brought us together as kindred spirits.

I could waffle for a few weeks, if I wanted. I could wallow in what-ifs and maybes, and live in the past for as long as I could manage until reality caught up, going through a challenging and dramatic emotional arc in the process.

Or, counterpoint, I could just spot the inevitable end point coming a mile away, because it was super obvious. And I could then skip straight past most of the intervening angst and misery to get to the part where I accept and embrace reality, and decide to stay with her. Thus, I'm happier, Mal is happier, and we all save a lot of wasted time and energy.

As for being stuck as a cat, I think I covered that pretty thoroughly already. Lord knows I’m not the only person to ever lose most of her speech and fine manipulation ability due to an accident, and my particular accident also left me with enhanced speed, reflexes, and senses in trade. Not to mention the limited ability to become a fully able-bodied human again for short periods. As long as the people who mattered were still treating me like a person—and they were—I could manage.

That's just life. Whatever happens, you just have to keep moving forward. Even if you have to do it on four legs.

Okay. Glad I got that cleared up.

Anyway, after we were done at the clinic, Thomas drove us back home, and Mal and I decided to try and learn a spell.

Chapter Text

"Alright," said Mal. "I think this is what we're looking for. I've never cast it before, so we'll figure it out together! Take a look at this."

We sat together at her desk, researching spells that would allow me to manipulate objects without needing opposable thumbs. A small stack of other D&D books had already been shoved to the side as Mal flipped through one called "Player's Handbook II" and, like, to be completely honest, even as a non-D&D player, it was pretty fucking cool to me that D&D magic was actually real. I mean, what a twist, right?

Anyway, the spell she pointed to was called "Helpful Hand." It was supposed to bring forth a magical hand about the size of a hand (as opposed to a magical hand about the size of a small car, which apparently was the norm for similar "hand" spells, according to Mal). It would persist for some number of hours, during which time the caster could use the hand to hold and manipulate objects at short range. In other words, it was an excellent solution to my manual dexterity problem!

That is, assuming we could get it to work.

"I like the sound of this one," I said. "What do we do?"

She opened up her personal spellbook. "You’ve never cast a spell before. I could do the spell by myself, but then I would control the hand, not you. So in order for this to work how we want, you’ll need to participate in the casting. And if we want everything to be safe and breezy when you do, we should start by teaching you the fundamentals."

"Fair enough. I like fundamentals."

"Tandem casting with a familiar is something that isn’t well documented in the D&D books," she explained. "We’re going to have to work out of real spellbooks. And for you to do that, you’ll need to know how to read arcane script. But guess what? There’s a spell for that!"

Grinning proudly, she indicated a section of text near the very beginning of her spellbook, and said, "This spell is called Read Magic. It’s a simple cantrip, and it represents one of the most fundamental building blocks of wizardry. It allows both the caster and their familiar to read magical writings, and it helps the mind to hold onto the information. When I cast this spell, you’ll be able to read my spellbook, and after reading it that way once, it will remain intelligible to you when you come back to it later, even after the Read Magic effect expires."

"Sweet!" I said.

"I know! And that’s not all! Reading my spellbook should also help break down mental blocks and give you an idea of how to write arcane script! And if you can write spells down, you know what that’s called? A spellbook! Hence, fundamentals, ta-dah!"

I applauded enthusiastically. I was getting pumped up. The secrets of the universe were at my proverbial fingertips!

"By the time you've been a wizard long enough to learn Level 1 spells, the Read Magic spell will be second nature," explained Mal. "I don't even need to refer back to my spellbook to prepare it; I can do it from memory. That's how basic it is. But this brings us back to another fundamental of wizardry, which is preparation.

"Wizards can't cast spells without meticulously preparing them beforehand. Every spell is like a recipe that must be followed exactly, and like any recipe, preparing and following it takes time. In my case, I often use my drawings to focus and direct my magic—as you've seen—and drawing them is part of my spell preparation process. My grandma used chanting, which is more traditional. And my friend Hannah sculpts little figurines out of Play-Doh. Everyone has their own method of focusing their mind, but the principles are the same. You'll have to try what works for you."

"Are you sure it's even possible for a wizard's familiar to become a wizard herself?" I asked.

"Well…no," she admitted. "And as far as I know, it's never been done before. Animals, even intelligent magical animals, have trouble using spellcasting methods designed for humans. But you are a human, even if you're in a cat's body. I think it could work for you? Our link complicates things, though. I'm not sure if channeling my magic is a good thing or a bad thing for your magical development. It might give you a boost because you have extra power to draw from, or it might hamper your growth because you're flexing someone else's muscles instead of your own. Or it might do both at the same time! I have no idea."

As Mal's familiar, I could act as a conduit for her magic, channeling or focusing it according to our shared will. That was one of the things we were trying out today. "Then let’s be trailblazers, and we’ll see what happens," I said.

"That’s the spirit!" she said. "I’m going to prepare my cantrip, and I’d like you to pay close attention while I do. In particular, see how much of my mindset you can sense through our empathic link."

She reached into her spell component drawer and retrieved a clear piece of crystal. Then she opened a sketchbook, picked up a charcoal pencil, and began to draw. Unlike the drawings I’d seen her use so far, this one was an entirely abstract design of lines, shapes, and geometric patterns, with the crystal as the focal point, sitting in the center of the page. I concentrated on our bond, and caught glimpses of her intense focus. As she drew the picture, she was also gathering, assembling, and holding the pattern of the spell in her mind’s eye. I couldn’t see it, but I could sense some of what it felt like for her to work the arcane energy into the shape she wanted. And with my aura vision, I could see the magic as it poured from her, swirling through the page and then into the crystal. It was even more beautiful than a perfectly constructed pivot table.

The process took about five minutes. When she was done, she relaxed, smiled, and turned to me. "Ta-dah!" she said.

"That was super cool," I said. "Definitely educational. And the swirling auras were hypnotic to watch."

"...Sorry, did you say swirling auras?" she said, looking puzzled.

I blinked. "Yeah. Uh, sorry, is it not normal to be able to see magical auras? Ever since I turned into a cat, I can see them if I focus right," I said. "They're sort of a…bright greenish, yellowish, purplish color that I've never seen anywhere else."

"Octarine," Mal said pensively. "The color of magic, according to the late Sir Terry Pratchett."

"Sir Terry Pratchett the bestselling author? Was he a wizard?"

She shook her head. "No. But his books kick ass, and he happened to get it very close, so we adopted the term. Wizards like books."

"Fair."

"Calling you as a familiar shouldn’t have given you the ability to detect magic. That’s just not a thing the spell has the capacity to do. So my best guess is it comes from being a cat. My books don’t say anything about that, but the notion that cats can see things people can’t is popular in a lot of folklore. Maybe it has a grain of truth to it."

"Can you see magic?" I asked. "It sounded like you recognized the color."

"I need to cast a spell to do it, and it only lasts a short time, but yeah," she said. "If it's something you can do naturally, I guess I probably won't need to prepare that spell very often, huh? I can just ask you."

"Happy to assist!" I said.

"But anyway! Back to our spell! When you prepare a spell, what you're really doing is casting the spell, but stopping juuust before you actually finish it. The spell stays ready in your mind, and you can trigger it whenever you're ready with just a command phrase and a gesture, kind of like your transformation ability. If you know what you're doing, you can hold a bunch of spells prepared all at once, and unleash any one of them at a moment's notice." She picked up the crystal that she had used as a focus for the energy. "This is the focus of the spell right here. When I complete the casting, it will activate the crystal so that while you hold it, you'll be able to read magical writing as easily as if it were in Times New Roman."

I looked at the crystal. I looked down at my paws. I looked back at the crystal. "Um…hold it how, exactly?" I asked, a little awkwardly.

"Uh…I guess…in your mouth?" she answered, just as awkwardly. "Sorry, I didn't really think that through, did I?"

"Hmm. Yeah, okay, I guess. As long as it's sanitary."

She sprinkled some of her magical sparkles over the crystal, and it gleamed a little shinier, as if it had just been polished. "It is now!" she said, presenting it to me. I picked it up out of her hand with my mouth, careful not to choke on it, then nodded for her to go ahead with the casting.

Mal took a deep breath, lifted both fists up to her forehead, then spoke in a clear, confident voice: "I call upon the power of Read Magic!"

As she intoned the words, she opened her hands again and pushed them outward, palms forward. And then something changed in my vision.

I couldn't have told you what was different, but something was different. I mean, I knew what the spell was supposed to do, so there was that, obviously. It just felt a little unusual.

"Normally this is a personal-range spell, meaning it doesn't extend beyond the caster. But because you're my familiar, I can share it with you as long as we're close together. So…have a gander at this," Mal said. She slid her spellbook toward me, opened to the first page. It was the same incomprehensible scribbles I'd seen the last time she showed it to me. Except…they weren't incomprehensible. It all made sense, somehow. The different colors of ink, the shapes, the angles, the scribbled lines of illegible text, even the doodles in the margins, I could read it. What's more, I felt as if I grokked exactly how and why this weird magical code worked.

Cool.

We went through page-by-page and I absorbed as much information as I could until the spell ran out, at which point I spat out the crystal and said, "Thank you for that. A lot of things make sense now."

"Pretty nifty, huh?"

"Absolutely! I never would have suspected that the choice of glitter gel ink as a medium was functional rather than decorative!"

"Oh, yeah, I go through gel pens like you wouldn't believe. For some reason, they run dry a lot faster when you use them for magic. But you just can't get the same results with normal ink."

"Maybe if we do this again, we can put the crystal on, like, a necklace," I suggested.

Mal grimaced a little. "Yeah, sorry again about that. Next time, we can figure out something that's not such a choking hazard. But now you know a lot more about arcane theory! So what do you think of the Helpful Hand spell?"

"I can see why you picked it. The functionality is pretty similar to the Unseen Servant spell from your spellbook, but the more personal nature of it should make it more receptive to having control of it handed off to the caster's familiar. No pun intended."

"Did you catch the potential pitfall?" she asked.

"I think so," I said. "It's the spell's range, right?"

The Helpful Hand spell was listed in the book with a range of 0 feet, meaning it couldn't extend beyond the 5-foot grid square occupied by the caster. Real life didn't conform to a tactical turn-based combat system, so the squares were just an abstraction, but basically it was a very short range. On the other hand, the Read Magic spell that we had so easily been able to share said that it only affected the caster, and had no range entry at all, only a note designating it as a Personal spell. It was a subtle difference, but it could be a consequential one.

"Exactly," Mal agreed. "Personal vs. Zero could be a problem for us—or at least it could with the spell as it's presented in the book. But I'm betting that the distinction is just a quirk of the spoony, imprecise way that it's written, and the actual spell can be used the way we need. So I'm just going to try scribing it into my spellbook the way I would if it were a Personal spell, and see if it works."

She flipped to a blank page and retrieved a set of gel pens from her desk drawer. "Copying a spell is a slow process," she said. "There's a lot of intense, grueling mental work, interspersed with long breaks to let the ink breathe. We'll get the process started, but we won't be ready to actually cast the new spell until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest."

"Aww, dang," I said, a little disappointed.

Mal patted me on the head reassuringly. "It's not so bad. This is only a Level 1 spell. Once we start learning Level 2 spells, the process will take twice as long. And the highest level spells can supposedly take over a week to fully transcribe. If binding the primal forces of the universe itself to your will were easy, everyone would be doing it."

Chapter Text

To copy the spell, we started by laying the basic groundwork for the spell's school of magic, in this case evocation, since the Helpful Hand was a construct composed entirely out of pure, solidified force. Then we layered on the notation to indicate the type of evocation it was—in this case, it fell under the "force" category. Those two basic steps took about half an hour of careful, meticulous labor. Mal traced the symbols and patterns, and I watched, double-checking her work as she went.

"That's enough for now," she finally said. "It looks good so far. We'll let it stand for a couple hours and come back to it. You did great, by the way!"

"Are you sure? It didn't feel like I was doing much—just watching and paying attention."

"You were thinking, and focusing. That's the heart of wizardry!" she said encouragingly. Then, a little more quietly, she added: "For my part, it really did help, having someone else carrying part of the mental load. When you joined in, I could feel you holding together the larger structure while I focused in on the details."

Hmm. I suppose I had been doing that. "I'll keep it up when we do the next part, then. I really appreciate that you're doing this for me. Thank you."

She frowned. "I should be thanking you. You agreed to eat cat food for me, Kate. You've sacrificed a lot."

"I suppose so," I said, jumping into her lap. "Okay, look, keeping track of running totals is normally my jam. But I don't think that's how relationships like ours are supposed to work. I'll help you, and you'll help me, and we don't need to keep score, okay?"

"Okay!" She petted me. I think we were successfully establishing a protocol there. I sit in her lap, I get pets and skritches. And in exchange, she gets to enjoy giving me pets and skritches. A fair and balanced trade for all involved.

"So what do we do while we wait for the ink to breathe?" I asked, as I enjoyed the warmth of her body heat and the gentle tingle of our bond.

Mal sighed. "I suppose we should probably fulfill our other obligations," she said unenthusiastically. "I need to write an essay for English class. And you probably still need to email all your professors about the classes you're going to miss."

"Blah. Fair enough." I hopped out of her lap. "You need to stay a B student, and I need to arrange a graceful exit from the semester."

"Are you all set with your tablet, then?" she asked. I nodded. I'd already set it up with the apps I needed, and the touchscreen was responsive enough for me to work it with my paws.

We settled into our individual tasks, with Mal on the hook for 1,000 words analyzing Macbeth from a feminist perspective, and me filling out online forms and sending emails to let the college know I would be out of commission for a while due to a medical emergency of a private nature.

I was finishing up an email to one of my instructors when a message notification popped up.

Isabella J: So…are you still a cat?

I responded.

Katelyn W: Yep
Katelyn W: Mal and I are working on a spell to give me a hand
Katelyn W: I mean like a literal hand

Normally I would have included a 🐱 or a 👋 emoji in there, but since I was typing slowly and relying a lot on autocorrect, I didn't bother trying to navigate the menu for it.

Isabella J: Wild. Just absolutely wild. You know I woke up this morning and I was sure I had dreamed the whole thing.
Katelyn W: I feel you. I had to do a few reality checks myself.
Katelyn W: Hard to deny it when you're nine inches tall and covered in fur though
Isabella J: God, it's true, you were barely taller than my ankles. Abso-fucking-lutely wild. 🤯
Katelyn W: Everything is ducking huge, it's like being a little kid again but somehow even smaller
Katelyn W: Sorry, autocorrect
Isabella J: Lol
Katelyn W: Honestly it's not so bad though, so far
Isabella J: Really????????
Katelyn W: Yeah
Katelyn W: I mean. It's an adjustment. But magical transformations apparently don't induce body dysmorphia. So…the cat thing mostly feels normal.
Katelyn W: And Mal is a sweetie. I really do like her.
Isabella J: I probably shouldn't be so gobsmacked, huh? You're one of the most easygoing people I know. Of course you'd be taking this in stride.
Katelyn W: Guilty as charged.
Isabella J: So if it's not so bad, what is it like, really, being a cat?
Katelyn W: Incredibly acute hearing and smell. Speed, agility, reflexes like you wouldn't believe.
Katelyn W: Like being a tiny superhero, except instead of battling Magneto, I provide emotional support to a teenage wizard.
Katelyn W: It can be a little bit scary being so small. But I feel safe with Mal.
Isabella J: Damn. You're kind of selling me on the experience, NGL.
Isabella J: Not that I'm signing up for it, obvs.
Isabella J: Still planning to follow her to school tomorrow?
Katelyn W: Yeah. Her dad gave me a clean bill of health. He seemed very chill about everything.
Katelyn W: Not sure what it's going to be like being a cat in a high school classroom. My plan is to stick to my wizard like glue and pretend to be a very well trained but otherwise ordinary pet.
Katelyn W: And if anyone gives us trouble, I use magic to turn into a tiger and maul the ever-loving duck out of them. ;)
Katelyn W: Autocorrect again
Isabella J: 🤣
Isabella J: Good luck, ok? Stay safe, Katie.
Katelyn W: Thanks. <3

She reacted to my last message with a ❤️. I smiled inwardly. No matter how weird things got, it still felt normal to be talking to my friend.

I finished off my emails and hopped up to check how Mal was doing. "Finished?" she asked.

"It is done," I said portentously. "You?"

She sighed. "It's coming along, at least. Lady Macbeth is a tough nut to crack, but some parts of it write themselves, like the comparison with the Lord of the Rings movies."

"How are we doing on our timer?"

"Probably another half hour," she said, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes. "You wanna go for a walk? I'm starting to feel a little restless, and we have time."

"I don't have to wear a leash, do I?" I teased. 

She blushed. "No! That's not what I…oh, you're just teasing, aren't you?" 

"Yup." Fresh air and exercise sounded nice. I headed for the door. "Let's go, then! Show me around. I'd love to see what your neighborhood is like."

Chapter Text

Her neighborhood was quiet, and woodsy, shaded by giant trees that towered over me even more than usual. Beyond the gravel driveway, the pavement was cracked and potholed, a sign of a back road too lightly traveled to receive regular maintenance from the county. Several other houses lined the street as well.

I thought I heard cars zooming along a highway a block or two away. This was an unincorporated area between two towns, Mal had told me. I was getting the impression of a lovely, scenic location that wasn't within walking distance of many real points of interest. In that respect, it wasn't too different from the car-dependent suburban neighborhood where I grew up.

We walked up and down the street, getting a taste of the afternoon sun as it shone in dappled patterns through the shade of the trees, chasing away the morning's chill autumn mists. For good measure, we did a lap around Mal's house as well. It was an attractive single-story home with a two-car garage, a separate tool shed around the side, and a wooden porch overlooking a tidy backyard garden, where flowers and vegetables grew in pots and planters and grapevines crept over a wooden trellis.

I'm normally the type of girl who spends most of her time glued to spreadsheets and textbooks, even on weekends. And don't get me wrong, a part of me was champing at the bit to get back to our spellcraft. But exercise feels good too, and I had some energy pent up. There was a certain atavistic joy in bounding around that backyard, just for the sake of enjoying that rush of feline speed.

Once the zoomies were out of my system, we went back to work on the next layer of the spell.

Now that the school and subschool were set, it was time to record the other basic parameters of the spell—including the range. This was the part we were trying to alter from the version in the book. It was only a slight tweak; still, if there was a mistake to be made, this was the most likely place for us to make it.

I focused hard and held as much of the spell's architecture in my mind as I could manage, just like I had done before. Mal slowly traced each pen stroke with exacting precision.

Twenty minutes and three different colors of gel pen later, it was time for another break.

Mal fixed herself a tuna salad sandwich for lunch, passing the scraps to me. As we ate, we talked. I told her about college and what it had been like to leave the nest. And she told me about her Grandma Alice, a powerful wizard who had tested each of her grandchildren before her death and ultimately chosen Mal to inherit her spellbook, leaving behind only vague instructions on how to read it.

"She kept her magic hidden for more than fifty years," Mal explained. "The only ones who knew were her, her raven familiar Albert, and Grandpa Bob. Mom didn't even know, although once I told her, she said it explained a lot about her childhood."

"Is your grandpa still around?" I asked.

"Yeah. And I think it took a toll on him, carrying that secret for so long. He was so happy when he found out about me, and so relieved to finally be able to talk about who Alice really was. It's part of why I decided I didn't want to hide like she did. It probably kept her safe, but it was also a burden."

"What about Albert?"

"Passed away shortly after Grandma Alice. When half of a soulbond dies, it's always hard on the other half, and she'd been with him even longer than she'd been with Bob."

"I wished I'd been able to meet him. It would have been nice to have another, more experienced familiar to show me the ropes." I was new to the job, and it was hard to know what to expect.

Mal's friend Hannah was a wizard too. I wondered if she had her own familiar. If so, maybe we could compare notes. Having a peer would be nice too.

Then again, other familiars wouldn't be humans in animal skins. They'd just be animals. Magic animals, true, but still, probably a bit of a culture gap there, I'd imagine.

Mal sighed, and I felt her sadness through our link. "Yeah. Sometimes when I'm reading Grandma's notes, I imagine what it would have been like for her to teach me properly, you know, while she was still alive. In the letter she left me, she apologized for that. Said she learned the same way, and it was tough, but it taught her to be creative and resourceful, and she hoped I would be stronger for it."

She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed in silence. "I have had to be creative and resourceful, learning on my own," she eventually said. "And, I mean, I'm not entirely on my own? I have Hannah, and Marco, and…the online community, and…um, well, and you , now, I guess."

I nodded.

"So…I don't know. Maybe, intellectually, Grandma wasn't wrong." She choked up a little, looking away to hide the tears threatening to gather in her eyes. "But I still wish she could be here."

I touched her hand for comfort. She blinked a few times and wiped her eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to dump extra emotional baggage on you," she said, smiling apologetically as she turned back to me.

"No need to apologize. I'm here for emotional support, remember? When you need a listening ear or soothing cuddles, I'm at your service!"

I tried to do a little curtsy, but it didn't quite work on four legs, and I tripped over myself and fell over, which made her giggle. Naturally, I picked myself up, cleared my throat, and adopted my most dignified I meant to do that face. "Please do not post that on the internet," I added, very dignifiedly.

"You got some mustard on your coat there," she pointed out. Ah. Oops. So that was what that gooey stuff I landed on top of was.

"Welp. I'm definitely not licking that out," I said. "I have my limits. Can you give me a hand?"

"Don't worry, I got you." Mal rubbed her hands together, and sparkles leaked from between them. Then she waved one hand across my back, and the gooey sensation vanished, leaving my fur a pristine midnight black once more. "Prestidigitation doesn't normally work on living creatures, but it can do hair. It's not a real substitute for a proper wash, of course, but getting a bit of gunk out? No problem."

"Magic is awesome."

"Isn't it?!"

We didn't start the next part of the spell until after night had fallen. By then, Mal had finished her essay, we'd both had dinner—leftover pizza for her, cat food magically flavored to taste like leftover pizza for me—and we'd both taken turns in the shower and gotten ready for bed.

I didn't expect to regularly use my limited human time each day for showering, but warm showers are nice, and I was curious what would happen to my human form's clothes if I turned back into a cat after taking them off. For the record, it turns out they only meld back with me if I'm wearing them. Otherwise, they remain separate until I turn human again, at which point they vanish and reappear on my body. (When I told Mal about this experiment, she turned a very impressive shade of crimson.)

Anyway, for the spell, the next step was to describe the Helpful Hand effect and what it would be capable of. We had to essentially translate the text from the D&D book into Mal's shorthand, being careful not to accidentally overstep and describe an effect too powerful to be contained in a Level 1 spell. This involved a lot of switching between different colors of gel pen to highlight key words and phrases in order to indicate tone and tense and various other arcane subtleties.

Between the translation and the transcription, it took about 45 minutes, which is not a trivial amount when you're talking about work that requires that kind of intense, sustained focus! You can't go on autopilot when you copy a spell. I was really starting to understand why Mal was so relieved to have a helper!

Once we were finished, she set down her pen, stretched out her arms, and yawned. "We'll do the last step after school tomorrow."

"Do you think it'll work the way we want?" I asked, jumping from the desk onto the bed.

She flopped down next to me. "Yeah, I'm feeling good about it so far. But even if it doesn't, it was still educational, right?"

"Right." The stakes were low. If we succeeded, the spell would be a really nice convenience. If we failed, well, the problem we were trying to solve wasn't time-sensitive, and we could always take what we learned and try again.

But we were both hoping it would work.

Chapter Text

Mal brought me to school the next morning in the basket of her bike.

Her pastel-pink backpack was plastered with stickers and filled to its straining point with textbooks and papers. I had sort of expected to ride inside it during the day, but I had forgotten just how heavy a load an eleventh grade backpack could be. There simply wasn't space. Instead, Mal cradled me in her arms as she hustled through the halls to her first class of the day, her skirt fluttering behind her as she moved.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk? I'm sure I could keep up!" I offered. She was already carrying so much—I felt a little bad that she was also carrying me.

"You don't know the way yet," she replied, sounding a little out of breath. "And I'm worried you'd get stepped on."

I could follow her easily, and while there were plenty of people around, the crowd wasn't all that thick. I was sure I would be fine. But I could sense from her emotions that the small amount of protection she was providing for me helped to put her mind at ease, so I didn't press the issue.

She stepped into her classroom. I couldn't see the clock, but it looked like we were a bit early. A few desks were already occupied, and the teacher—a smartly dressed, bespectacled man with graying hair and a salt-and-pepper goatee—sat at a cluttered desk in front of a whiteboard that I couldn't read. All the eyes in the room drifted towards us—towards me.

"Good morning, Mallory," said the teacher. "Why do you have a cat?"

She produced her documentation. "Good morning. Um. She's my emotional support cat. I, uh, I have permission?"

Whispers were being exchanged between the other students. Mal held me a little tighter, feeling the weight of the stares as she fought back her anxiety.

He looked over the papers, then handed them back. "Fair enough! Carry on, then."

With relief, she nodded and sat down at a desk in the second row, doffing her backpack. I settled into her lap. "That was easy enough, right?" I said. She smiled and stroked my back.

"Oh. My gosh." A dark-skinned girl in a green t-shirt leaned towards us from a neighboring desk. "She's so cute! What's her name?"

"Her name is Katelyn Winters," Mal answered, blushing a little. "She is cute, and very smart."

"Can I pet her?"

I looked up at Mal. "I probably should have anticipated this," I said. I was expecting to sort of…generally draw attention, but I hadn't fully processed the kind of attention it was likely to be. In retrospect, this outcome was very obvious.

"Well, what do you think, Katie? Can Grace pet you?" asked Mal, very respectfully.

The girl—Grace—was clearly sincere in her request, and polite enough to ask first. And I thought I smelled…hmm…two other cats on her, so she was a cat person. Between that and the absence of any warning bells from Mal's emotions, I decided she was probably safe. I meowed in affirmation.

"It's, um. It's fine," said Mal. Grace reached over and petted me, gently cooing to me about how cute I was.

As more students filtered into the class, I continued to attract attention by being small and fuzzy. A small cluster of admirers formed around me, and I gotta say, I really did not know what to do with this turn of events. Was I supposed to perform some crowd-pleasing feat of cuteness, like flopping over, or yawning, or batting at a loose thread? That seemed to be their expectation. But I wasn't sure if I wanted to encourage them or discourage them. 

"Alright, alright, settle down!" The teacher clapped his hands to bring the students' eyes back up front, his intervention sparing me from making a decision. "I'm sure our new visitor is very exciting, but do you know what's more exciting than a cat? That's right: math!"

There was a general murmuring debating this assertion as everyone took their seats, and it seemed like most of the class disagreed with the teacher, but I admired the man's spirit nonetheless.

As he launched into his lesson plan, I shared a glance with my wizard. Mal and I were both feeling self-conscious. Neither of us was used to the spotlight. But at least it was positive attention! So far as I could tell, no one was looking down on her for needing emotional support, or getting jealous about how she was allowed to bring a pet to school, or anything like that.

After about half an hour of lecturing, the class was grouped into pairs to do a worksheet, and Grace scooched her desk closer to ours. "Okay, partner, let's do some trigonometry!" she said.

"Um. Yes. Right! So, uh, for, um, for problem one, um…"

I rested quietly while they worked, closing my eyes, tuning out the conversation, and listening to the thumping of Mal's heartbeat.

Chapter Text

"So are you going to go for it?" I asked, as we traveled to the next class.

Before responding, Mal took out her phone and held it up to her ear so that any observer would assume she was talking on the phone. "What do you mean? Go for what?"

"You have a crush on Grace, right? It was all over your emotions."

She laughed nervously, then bit her lip. "Yeah, I do. I guess you can see right through me, huh?"

"That, and you were blushing and stammering a lot when you were talking with her. And I could hear your heart rate increase. But you haven't answered my question. Are you gonna ask her out?"

"You can't just ask someone out! I mean, what if she doesn't like you that way? It would be a disaster!" She was mortified at the thought of it.

Our path to the next classroom took us out of the building we were in and over across the way, where several classrooms were clustered around a large tree in the center of a courtyard.

"Well, if it helps, I'm happy to be your wing-cat," I said. "I can help break the ice if you like. I bet I could even set up a meet-cute."

"Look, I, uh…I'll think about it, I guess. Maybe we can talk about it later, okay? I should get to Spanish class early to show the teacher my doctor's note."

I nodded. "Okay." She put away her phone, and we headed inside.

The teacher—a thin young woman wearing a baseball cap—lit up when she saw me, and didn't ask for a note or even an explanation. She had two dogs and a cat of her own at home (according to my nose) and was just delighted to have an animal in her classroom.

After we sat down, a handsome boy in a red hoodie slid into the desk next to us and smiled at us. "Qué tal , Mal?" he said in a sultry tenor voice, running one hand through his long, dark hair. "Tu familiar es tan linda como tú."

"Hola, Marco," she replied, smiling back. "Kate, this is Marco Guerrera. I mentioned him before. As you can see, flirtiness is basically his default state."

"Ah, you've been talking about me, have you? Can't keep me out of your mind?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

She stuck her tongue out at him, and his suave facade slipped a little as he suppressed a laugh. So this was the bard, eh? I looked him over, and indeed, if I focused, I could see an octarine aura around him, much like the one around Mal.

He turned to address me. "It is truly a pleasure to meet such a beautiful feline. Please accept this token!" And with a flourish, a kitty treat appeared in his outstretched hand. I sniffed at it suspiciously. It was not magical. It smelled like chicken.

I decided to accept the offering. It tasted like chicken, too.

"I see how it is," Mal said playfully. "Trying to bribe her into liking you, hmm?"

"Al contrario, señora, I just wanted to pull out all the stops to make your new friend feel welcome. And possibly also to impress you with my sleight of hand. I've been practicing."

He spread his fingers, closed his left hand into a fist, and then opened it again to reveal a fun-size candy bar, which he tossed to Mal. "Brought a treat for you too!" he said.

"Oh, thanks!" she said.

"De nada. Didn't want you feeling left out."

"I think I like this guy," I said. "He's very thoughtful. I would prefer to be the one getting the chocolate, though."

Mal smiled and rolled her eyes. "Your bribe worked," she said to Marco. "She likes you now."

He pumped his fist triumphantly.

Chapter Text

After class, there was a short brunch period, and Marco sat with us through the break in a quiet corner of the quad. "I really am glad to see that your spell worked," he said. "Familiars kick ass. I wish bards could have 'em."

"Oh, actually, I fucked the spell up pretty bad," Mal said casually.

He frowned. "Trouble with your modifications?"

"I…ah…I don't really want to talk about it now," she said, looking downcast. "I'll tell you about it at lunch, okay?"

I snuggled against her to comfort her. "You can't keep beating yourself up over this," I said.

"Oh, I can totally keep beating myself up over this!" she argued. "But…it does help a lot, being able to sense how you feel, and knowing, like, really knowing, that you aren't angry at me? So thank you again, Kate, for that."

"I can't take credit for the magical empathy bit. But you're welcome," I said. She hugged me closer.

Marco raised one eyebrow. "Intriguing. I look forward to hearing the full story. And I must say, I am touched that you feel comfortable being emotionally vulnerable in my presence."

"Yeah, well, you better not make fun of me for it, or I'll cry, and it'll be your fault, Marco." She punched him on the shoulder. "And then Kate will turn into a tiger and I'll sic her on you."

"Noted," he said.

I perked up, noticing a familiar smell in the air. I'd detected faint traces of another teen girl here and there in Mal's house, and now I thought I caught the same scent coming from upwind of us. I looked in that direction, and caught a glimpse of an octarine aura. I poked Mal and asked, "Is that your friend Hannah?"

"Ooh, good catch, Kate!" Mal waved, and the girl waved back and headed towards us.

As she got closer, I could see that her ponytailed hair was dyed purple, with brunette roots, and her skin was as pale as Mal's—I guess wizards must not spend a lot of time outdoors. She had a stout build and an ample bust, and she wore browline glasses, faded jeans, and a t-shirt featuring two twenty-sided dice, both showing a 20, with the caption Yes, they're natural.

When she saw me, she let out a squee and rushed forward. "Ohmygosh, you must be Mal's familiar! That is so cool! What's your name? Can you talk? Are you and Mal best friends yet? What's it like being a cat? What was the mishap that Mal mentioned? Can I hold you? You're so cute! I am super jealous! Also hi Mal, hi Marco!"

"Good morning, dear Hannah," said Marco. "Just the sight of you fills my heart with longing for the sweet touch of your hand on mine."

"Um," I said. "My name is Kate. Katelyn Winters. Sorry, Mal, um, help?"

Mal giggled. "Hannah, this is Katelyn Winters. She's fluent in English, but she can only speak along our link. Kate, this is my friend and fellow wizard, Hannah Weiss. Could you take those questions again one at a time, maybe?"

"Sorry!" Hannah sat down next to Mal. "Tell me about the mishap first! I love mishaps!"

"That's a long story. I'll tell you at lunch. Next question please."

"Uh...I already forgot the others." Hannah looked mildly embarrassed. "Ooh! Wait! I got one! Can she do the transformy thing we talked about?"

"Yep!" said Mal. I nodded.

"Can I see?" said Hannah.

"I would also like to see!" said Marco. "But I don't think this is the time or the place. We're out in the open, in broad daylight. Not very discreet."

I piped up. "I would actually love to join you all for lunch in my human form, assuming there's a safe place for me to transform."

"She says she'd love to join us for lunch in her human form if we can figure out a safe place for her to transform," Mal translated. "I think a bathroom stall or an empty classroom is probably fine."

"That's fair, I guess." Hannah seemed disappointed. Then she brightened. "I'll write down a list of questions!"

"I'm afraid all interview questions will need to be screened ahead of time by my publicist," I said. Mal snorted.

Chapter Text

After a few more minutes of eating snacks, we left the other two in anticipation and headed to the gym for P.E. class, which—to my surprise—Mal had taken as an elective. "Yeah, I don't actually need to take another year of it to graduate, but it's a class with absolutely no homework, so it really helps me keep my GPA up," she explained. "And anyway, it's good exercise. I don't mind it."

"But don't you get all sweaty and gross and then have to go to class afterwards?" I asked.

"No, because I can fix that with Prestidigitation, remember?"

"Oh. Right." Her logic was unassailable.

Unfortunately, it did mean going into the locker room to change into gym clothes, and that's not the most fun place to be when you have an enhanced sense of smell. I closed my eyes and held my breath as best I could. Mal sensed my discomfort and changed as quickly as possible. "Sorry," she said. "I don't think anyone likes it in there."

The class itself consisted of about 10 minutes of stretches and then another 40 minutes of basketball. I watched from the bleachers. Mal was not very good at basketball. She scored no baskets. She gave it a good-faith effort, though, and none of her teammates seemed to be angry or annoyed with her for being unskilled, since there were no real stakes and half of the other players were probably just as bad at it as she was.

It probably helped that she was pretty, too, even in her baggy gym clothes. I caught a few of the boys stealing glances at her as she played. In my experience, when your body conforms to our society's narrow standards for feminine beauty, there are some upsides and some downsides to it, and one of the upsides is that fewer people are interested in being mean to you. It's pretty bullshit that things work that way, but that's how it always was for me.

Anyway, after basketball, she changed back to her regular clothes and freshened up with a soft, subtle burst of magic that left her hair absolutely perfect. Just flawless. I really needed to learn that spell.

English class was next on the schedule.

The classroom was on the second floor of the main building, and the teacher was an older woman with curly gray hair, glasses, old-fashioned clothing, a little extra weight, and a facial expression that said "I can't believe I haven't retired yet."

As Mallory showed her the doctor's note, I noticed a familiar smell in the room. "Oh hey, it's Grace!" I said, recognizing the dark-haired girl sitting near the window. "Hi Grace! I remember you from math!"

She must have noticed us too; she turned in our direction and gave a little wave. Mal blushed.

I turned to look at Mal. "Today is the day. You're going to sit together, and when the moment is right, you're going to ask her to get together later and study with you for Friday's math test. And then sparks will fly."

She couldn't respond to me in front of everyone, but she steeled her nerves and sat down in the seat next to Grace, with me in her lap again. Step one complete!

The teacher called for everyone's attention. "Good morning, students. Let's jump right into it. Please take out your essays and your red pens."

Rustling noises ensued as everyone retrieved their homework. "Now pair up and swap essays with the person next to you for proofreading," she continued.

Grace scooched her desk closer to us and winked. "Looks like we're partners again!" she whispered cheerfully.

"Anyone without a partner, raise your hand!" said the teacher. One student in the back raised his hand, and she directed him to join another group of two as a third member. Then Grace and Mal swapped papers, and while Mal worked on Grace's essay, I turned my attention to Grace.

She hadn't started on Mal's essay yet. Instead, she was writing something on a piece of scratch paper. Then she looked at me and gave me a little nod of acknowledgement.

Huh?

She slid the paper over to Mal. It said, Hey, do you want to get together later to study for Friday's math test?

Um. What?

Mal saw the note and blushed. She scribbled a response and slid it back, but I just stared at Grace. "You didn't actually understand what I said earlier, did you?" I said, tilting my head in confusion.

Grace made direct eye contact with me and winked.

Chapter Text

Oh shit. I focused my vision, and…I saw an octarine aura around her.

"Um," I said, trying to remember if I had said anything else I shouldn't have during math class. I didn't think so? "So, that's cool, that you can talk to cats, then."

Mal froze. "What was that, Kate?" she asked carefully.

"Grace can understand me when I talk. She speaks cat."

Mal's eyes widened. And Grace saw Mal's eyes widen, and her eyes widened too. She must not have realized before that Mal could also understand me—but now, seeing Mal's reaction would have made it very obvious.

"Okay," I said. "Well, apparently, now we all know, and we all know that we all know, so…uh…you're welcome for my ingenious matchmaking?"

"I'm sorry, my cat is meowing because she's about to vomit," Mal said, scooping me up. "I'd better take her outside real quick. Grace, would you come help?"

"Of course," Grace responded quickly. They both stood up.

"Oh, sure, you definitely couldn't have picked an excuse that wouldn't be embarrassing for me," I grumbled halfheartedly.

The two of them rushed out in the direction of the girls' bathroom, with me in tow. As we left, the teacher gave us a skeptical look, but didn't stop us. When we got to the bathroom, a quick check of the stalls showed that no one else was there.

"I thought I was the only one who could talk to animals! Are you really like me?" Grace asked breathlessly, leaning against the sink.

"You can talk to any animal?" Mal replied, her jaw dropping.

"Yes! Any animal except bugs! You can't?"

"Mal can only talk with me because I'm her familiar," I explained.

Grace's eyes widened even further. "What does that mean?"

"I'm a wizard," Mal said. She set me down on the counter to free up her hands. Then, as a demonstration, she tapped a finger against a faucet, causing it to turn bright pink. Then she did the same with the soap dispenser, and then her hair. "I study magic. Aside from tricks like this, one of the things a wizard can do is conjure a small animal as a bonded companion. The bond allows us to communicate verbally and empathically." She snapped her fingers, and the colors turned back to normal.

"Wow!" said Grace. "That's amazing! Is that what I am? Am I…am I a wizard?"

Mal paused and frowned. "If you were a wizard, you'd know it. Becoming a wizard takes a lot of work. And speaking with animals isn't normally a wizard spell."

Grace bit her lip. "It doesn't feel like a spell at all. It's just…an ability I sort of, I don't know, woke up with one day."

"It's fully passive, then?" Mal asked. "You don't have to focus, or concentrate, or expend any magical energy?"

"No, I don't," said Grace, shaking her head. "I just have to listen, and I understand them, and they understand me."

Mal took a deep breath. "Okay. That's…unusual. Um. Do you have any other magic powers?"

"I, uh, I can do a sort of…rainbow beam attack?" Grace's cheeks flushed. "I discovered it by accident. It hits like a fastball. I may have broken a window."

I felt Mal's shock along the empathic link. "Oh my gosh…are you…are you a warlock?" she asked, awestruck.

"What's a warlock?" Grace looked confused.

"Didn't you say a warlock has to be granted their abilities by a powerful magical being?" I asked. "How could that happen without her knowing?"

"A warlock always draws magic from a pact with a great power," Mal said, her voice lowering. "But…yeah…the pact could have been struck without your knowledge. Like, there are stories of parents negotiating pacts on behalf of their children."

"I was adopted," Grace said, just as quietly. "I never knew my biological parents. You don't think…"

"I don't know. But I think you should join me and my friends at lunch to talk about this further," said Mal firmly. She pulled out her phone to text Hannah and Marco about this new development.

Grace nodded slowly. "Okay. But…um. Do you still want to…y'know…study together?"

Mal turned red from the neck up. "Yes please."

Chapter Text

They exchanged phone numbers and went back to class to finish marking up each other's essays while I sat on Mal's desk, observing. It didn't take long; both girls were good enough at spelling and grammar that there weren't many mistakes to correct. All the while, the air between them was thick with tension and anticipation.

The teacher went row by row and stamped everyone's essays to mark that they'd been edited. The final draft was due on Friday. Then she introduced the class to the next book in the curriculum: The Things They Carried.

"I read that one in high school too," I said. "It was one of my favorites, actually. Great stories. Very well written."

"You went to high school?" Grace whispered.

I nodded. "Yeah, I was a human before I was a cat. It's a whole thing."

Grace seemed flabbergasted by this revelation. "I have so many questions."

"Well, Mal and I probably have answers, but I don't want to unload too much exposition during class and disrupt your education," I said.

Mal tapped her notebook, where she had just written Didn't you use class time for matchmaking? in the margins. She raised an eyebrow.

"And it turned out to be very educational!" I protested.

I noticed the teacher looking at me disapprovingly, and I remembered that even though no one else could understand me, they could still very much hear me meowing. And I had promised to be well-trained and well-behaved.

I quieted down.

Pretty soon, the bell rang, and with me in her arms and Grace following behind us, Mal led the way down the hall and into an empty classroom. "This should be a safe place for you to transform, Kate."

I didn't waste any time. I was eager to be the same size as everyone else. "By my true self, transform!"

Grace stared slack-jawed as the cocoon of violet light enveloped me and I stepped out of it on two legs.

I stretched. "Ooh, that feels good. My reflexes in this form may be shit, but it sure is nice to be tall again for a while. And to have thumbs. Thanks, Mal." I hugged her.

"Mm. You give better hugs in this form too," she replied, hugging me back. We both enjoyed the tingle of our bond for a moment.

Grace was still staring in awe. "That is absolutely wild. So this is, like, your true form?"

I reluctantly broke away from the hug, but kept one arm around Mal's shoulders. "Used to be. But since I accepted the familiar gig, my main form is the cat, and this one is more, you know…um. Secondary, I guess. Hey, let's go eat food? I haven't had a proper human meal since Friday afternoon."

"And are you two…" Grace pointed back and forth between us as we all began walking down to the cafeteria. "I mean, are you…uh…"

"Oh, no! We're not a couple," I said. "I'm not into girls, anyway. Mal is more like a little sister to me. A little sister who just…happens to be ten times my size most of the time." Mal blushed. She was doing a lot of that today.

"Hey, changing the subject!" said Mal. "I want to know about these warlock powers of yours. How long have you had them?"

"Since June. It started on my seventeenth birthday. I woke up in the morning and I heard voices talking. It took me a minute to realize the voices were actually birds arguing outside my window. Birds can be very argumentative, did you know that?"

Mal nodded. "And the…rainbow blasts?"

"Noticed it a couple weeks later. If I go like this…" Grace wiggled her fingers rapidly while keeping them tight together, and the friction seemed to generate brightly-colored magical sparks. "The power builds up in my hands, and if I point and release, zap. Rainbow blast."

She stilled her fingers, and the sparks died out. "Not gonna do it right now, though, obviously," she added.

"So you need to use your hands, but you don't need to shout 'Rainbow blast!' or anything like that?" Mal asked.

Grace shook her head. "Is that normal?"

Mal's expression was serious. "Is it normal for most spellcasters? No. Is it normal for warlocks? Yes. Fully nonverbal casting is one of the three main distinguishing features of a warlock's magic."

"What are the other two?" I asked.

"Firstly, stamina," Mal answered. "A warlock's pact is a functionally unlimited source of magical power. Most mages run out of juice and have to recharge if they cast too many spells in a day. Warlocks…don't. Their spells never run out.

"Secondly, beam attacks. The exact form it takes depends on your patron, but warlocks always have the ability to fire some kind of energy blast. The rainbow-ness of it all is probably our best clue about your origins."

Grace's eyes were wide with excitement. "Wow, you know a lot about this stuff!"

"She's basically an expert," I said proudly.

"I'm still really new to this," Mal protested. "I can't even cast level 2 spells yet!"

We stepped into the cafeteria. Marco and Hannah were already waiting for us at a small table in the corner. Hannah waved us over. A basic sack lunch consisting of a club sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and an orange were laid out in front of her. Marco sat next to her with a reheated container of spaghetti marinara.

"Hey all!" said Mal, taking her backpack off and sliding it under the table. "I'm going to grab some food, but real quick, I think you both know Grace Berry, and this is Katelyn in her human form! And Grace, this is Hannah, and Marco. Okay, I'll be right back!"

She skipped over to the line for cafeteria food. "Hello!" I said, planting myself in the seat next to Mal's backpack, across from Marco. Grace sat on the bench next to me, leaving a space between us.

Marco took my hand and kissed it dramatically. "Ah, Katelyn Winters, you are more breathtaking than ever in this form. And Miss Berry, my heart leaps in joy to see you so soon, when elsewise we would not have crossed paths until seventh period!"

I smiled at Marco's compliment. Hannah leaned forward excitedly. "I gotta know! What's it like being a cat?"

"Well, cats have really keen reflexes and senses," I explained. "So this form feels clumsy and half-deaf in comparison. And after spending so much time on four legs, switching back to two legs with no tail makes me feel like I'm going to topple over when I walk. But on the other hand, humanity definitely has its advantages. Like manual dexterity."

I reached over and picked up Hannah's orange, tossing it from one hand to the other just to show off my opposable thumbs. Then I rolled it back across the table towards her. "Of course, Mal also gave me a hybrid form that has some of the best of both worlds. But I think it stands out a little too much for everyday use. And I can only transform for a limited time each day, so I'd rather just spend that time as a normal human, you know?"

"That's fascinating ," said Hannah. She started digging in her bag. "Hang on, where did I put my list of questions?"

Grace raised her hand. "I have questions! For starters, are you two both wizards like Mal?" She gestured toward Marco and Hannah.

Marco answered. "Ah, in fact my beautiful colleague Hannah here is a wizard, but I belong to the bardic magic tradition! And if you are a warlock as Mal said, then I am delighted to meet one of your kind! I know many stories, but I've never before had the honor of meeting a warlock for myself."

"I'd love to hear some of those stories. I still don't really understand my own powers." Grace looked around, and lowered her voice. "Are you, uh, are you sure it's okay for us to talk about this in a crowded cafeteria?"

"Oh, it's fine," said Marco. "As long as we don't do any actual magic, everyone will assume it's just a LARP thing."

"Found my list!" said Hannah. "Second question, can I pick you up? No, wait, that one only works when you're a cat."

I laughed. "Everyone seems to want to pet me or hold me when I'm a cat! I can't help being adorable. But as long as you're gentle, and you ask first, I don't mind it."

Grace piped up. "Speaking of which, if you're really a human, how did you end up as a cat in the first place?"

"No, that's not how familiars work. She can turn into a human, but she's a cat, not a human. Right, Kate?" said Hannah.

"Ah, yes, well, actually, as it happens, that was the mishap that Mal mentioned earlier," I confessed. "Until Friday night, I'd been a human my whole life. The whole 'familiar' business came as a bit of a shock, really."

Hannah's jaw dropped. Marco stared for a second, then started laughing. "I'm sorry! I'm just…so, all day, Mal's had a beautiful brunette sitting naked on her lap!" He laughed some more.

I turned a deep shade of scarlet all the way up to my ears. "No! It's not…I mean…that isn't…I wasn't…we aren't…that doesn't count! Shut up!"

Grace giggled. "Can't say I wasn't a little jealous of you myself," she said suggestively.

"I got food! Jealous of who why what now?" Mal had returned with a tray holding two square slices of pepperoni pizza, two bananas, two bags of Cheetos, and two chocolate milks. Lunch for both of us! She set the tray down in front of me, then squeezed into the space between Grace and me.

Grace's brown eyes gazed at Mal. "Jealous of Kate for getting to sit on your lap. Mallory Avalon, do you realize I've had a crush on you since, like, freshman year?"

Mal was flustered. "Wh…what? This whole time?"

"Yes! I just never felt like I had a good opening to approach you, you know?"

Hannah stared. "Sorry, I'm still stuck on the 'human' thing. I'm going to need a whole new list of questions."

"Food first, answers later," I said, eagerly reaching for the junk food in front of me.

Chapter Text

As we ate our lunches, Mal and I recapped our weekend together, starting with how I had been conjured by mistake, and then the events that had followed, all the way up to the present moment, with the others jumping in occasionally with questions.

"So anyway, I told Mal that she should ask out Grace, but Grace thought I was talking to her, and so she made the move instead, and as you can see they are now holding hands, so it worked!" I beamed with pride, and then shoved a handful of Cheetos in my mouth.

"You see, it just goes to show the virtue of being honest with your feelings," said Marco. "I am attracted to all four of you ladies, and as you know, I've never made a secret of it."

"Yeah, but you say that to everyone," said Hannah. "So it's hard to take you very seriously."

Marco shrugged. "It's not my fault everyone is hot."

"Honestly, I assumed you were doing a bit. But for the record, I'm too old for you," I said.

"Hmm. Actually, how old are you?" Hannah asked.

"I turned twenty-one in May."

She raised her eyebrows. "So…you could buy alcohol for us? Not for drinking, just as a spell component, of course!"

"No, because my ID didn't come along for the ride when I was teleported here…and also it would be irresponsible of me, probably, I guess."

I swallowed another handful of cheese puffs. Ah, sweet junk food.

Mal turned toward Marco. "So, Grace can talk to animals, and she can fire beam attacks that look like rainbows. Do you have any idea what type of warlock she might be?"

Marco chewed on a bite of spaghetti for a moment as he considered the question. "Hmm. Speaking with animals is probably most typical of the archfey, but there are some celestials that it could be, too. The rainbows, though, those are almost always associated with couatls."

"What's a couatl?" I asked.

Marco lit up at the opportunity to tell a story. "The couatls are wise and powerful serpents with rainbow wings, said to be native to Central America. For millennia, they watched over humanity and helped civilization to thrive, and there was peace across the land. In those days, there were many disciples of the couatls who served them in exchange for a taste of magical power. They became powerful warlocks whose magic reflected the rainbow feathers of their patrons. As time passed, the descendants of these warlocks developed magical powers of their own, becoming sorcerers. The people celebrated, and the couatls rejoiced with them, for they knew that magic would only help humanity to thrive."

As Marco spoke, ethereal music accompanied his words: a gentle, pastoral tune. He hadn't touched his phone; he must have been using bardic magic to provide himself with a soundtrack. It was a nice touch, although not very subtle. A few other people in the cafeteria started looking around for where the music was coming from, and were probably very confused.

"But everything changed when the Europeans landed on the couatls' shores," he continued. "The colonizers were merciless invaders. Where they swept across the land, plague heralded their coming, and death followed in their wake. The invaders had mages of their own, and their weaponry was more advanced, enough to challenge even the winged serpents themselves. The couatls did what they could, but they were too few, and in the end, the land and its people were devastated by what seemed to be the war to end all wars. And the couatls wept."

The music shifted into a minor key, becoming darker, sadder, angrier.

"Some of the couatls fought and died alongside their disciples. Most withdrew from the world to avoid the pain, slumbering in the tallest mountains and the thickest jungles, secluded from humanity's reach. A few banded together to create sanctuaries, sequestering small temples with powerful wards so that they and their disciples could hide. Some say that they can still be found, but only by those the couatls deem worthy. Others say the winged serpents will return one day when humanity is ready for their guidance once more. But until then, they have fallen into myth and legend. And so the story stops…for now."

The music ended on a hopeful note before petering out. Marco took a little bow.

"Damn. That was some proper bard shit right there!" I said. I was impressed. That boy was a born orator.

Grace frowned. "Hang on. If there are no couatls anymore, then how could I be granted powers by one of them?"

"I didn't say there are no couatls," Marco said. "They're just super rare. But powerful magical beings are super rare in general. If it were easy to forge a warlock pact, everyone would be doing it. Anyway, couatls can talk to animals, they're associated with rainbows, they're powerful enough to create warlocks, and you look like you could have some indigenous Central American heritage, so…that's my best guess."

"Is there any way to tell for sure?" Grace asked.

Marco shrugged. "The stories say that if you're a warlock, your patron might appear to you in dreams, or send messengers to speak with you. You might even be called on to do a favor for them, or to seek them out for training. That's all up to your patron. But unless something like that happens, all we can really do is wait to see what other powers you develop, and guess from there."

"Or cast a divination spell to try and find out, but none of us is high enough level to do that," said Mal.

"Do you really think I'll develop more powers?"

Mal nodded. "All arcanists tend to grow stronger over time. The more you use your magic, the more magic you can use. You won't be able to learn new spells the same way that I do, but you should unlock new abilities eventually."

"Wow. What kind of abilities could I get for being chosen by one of these couatls?"

"Hmm, let's see," said Marco. "Aura vision is pretty common for all kinds of warlocks—that's the ability to see and detect magic—but it would also make a lot of sense for a couatl warlock specifically, since couatls have that ability. Couatls are venomous, so you might get something related to poison. Telepathy, teleportation, shapeshifting, healing, invisibility, and intangibility are all couatl specialties. Oh, and of course, they're most famous for their rainbow wings, so if you sprout wings of your own and they have rainbow feathers, that would be a dead giveaway."

Grace's eyes looked like they were about to bug out of her head. "Are you saying I could fly? "

"A lot of warlocks can fly once they've advanced enough, so…yes. I think it's highly likely, eventually. And the type of wings you grow when you do are always related to the wings of your patron, so by that point, we'll probably be able to tell what kind of patron you have just by looking at you."

"Wow," said Grace.

"So, unrelated…" Hannah turned to Mal. "Mal, now that your familiar spell worked, can I copy it off your spellbook?"

"What? But...it didn't work! I conjured a human instead of a cat!" Mal protested.

I shrugged. "It did mostly work, though."

Mal punched me on the arm. "Hey, c'mon, you're supposed to back me up on this, Kate!"

Hannah turned on her puppy-dog eyes. "Pleeease? What if I use the original version without your modifications? And I'll let you copy my Reduce Person spell, too!"

"What does Reduce Person do?" I asked.

"It temporarily shrinks you to half scale. It's cool!" Hannah answered.

Mal shuddered. "I still don't know about that one. I'm not sure I like the idea of being tiny. No offense, Kate."

"None taken," I said. "I'm not over the moon about it myself. Although…it could be a good bonding activity for us if we spent some time being tiny together, you know, so I could show you what it's like."

Mal facepalmed. "Ah, dammit, you're right, that would be a good bonding activity! Okay, fine, Hannah, we can swap spells. I just want you to be careful, alright? Don't make the same mistake. And also, we can't do it today. Kate and I are still finishing up a Helpful Hand spell from last night."

"Finally taking lessons from the great Bigby, eh?" said Marco.

"Wait, is Bigby a real person?" I asked. "I saw him mentioned in the book, but I wasn't sure if he was just a D&D character."

"He's fictional," Marco admitted. "But speaking of D&D, have you lovely ladies noticed that with Grace and Katelyn, we finally have enough clued-in players for a D&D campaign?"

Mal bounced in delight. "Ohmygosh, you're right! I'd love to get a game going! Can we? Hannah, Grace, Katie, would you be interested?"

"Hell yeah, I'm on board for that!" Hannah said.

"I don't really know the game very well yet, but it sounds fun," I said.

Grace thought about it. "I've heard of D&D, but I've never played. It's pencil-and-paper roleplaying, right? I could give it a try."

"Perfect," said Marco triumphantly. "I've been working on an idea for a campaign I want to run. I think you'll find I'm an excellent Dungeon Master. Is Saturday okay for everyone?"

Hannah shook her head. "Not this Saturday. It's Sukkot. My family's doing a whole thing. What about Thursday?"

Everyone agreed that Thursdays were good. "Grace, Kate, I'll add you both to our group chat," Marco said.

"Thanks," I replied. "By the way, how are we doing on time?"

Mal checked the time on her phone. "Looks like we're doing pretty well. You should have about ten more minutes of human time left today. Probably change back in five, just to be safe."

"Oh, that's not a lot of time for me to ask the rest of my questions!" Hannah said. "Quick, Katelyn, where were you from before you were a familiar?"

"Originally Sacramento, but more recently, Davis," I answered.

She checked that off her list. "Uh-huh, uh-huh. And can you talk to other cats?"

"Haven't tried yet! Maybe Grace will introduce me to her cats and we can find out."

"How did you know I have cats?" Grace asked.

I tapped my nose. "Cats are very good at recognizing the smell of other cats."

"That actually answers question #8, so I can cross that one off too." Hannah scribbled again in her notebook. "Okay, next question, do you want me to design you a collar with a custom-sculpted tag? Because I'm really good at that sort of thing."

I was already shaking my head before she finished the sentence. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm not interested in wearing a collar. Very much not a fan of, you know, the symbolism there. I'm not a pet."

"I'm with you there," Mal agreed. "That's not the dynamic I want between us. And I'm not worried about you getting lost, anyway—we'd be able to sense each other."

Hannah bit her lip, and crossed out several more lines on her sheet. She gave me a remorseful look. "Okay, see, I'm realizing now that some of these are definitely insensitive, and I apologize."

"It's fine!" I said. "I actually do appreciate the offer. I know it's coming from a good place. We probably have time for you to shoot me one more question before I change back, if you like."

"Alright, um, in that case." She consulted her list. "What does it feel like to have your soul magically bound to someone else?"

"Tingly," Mal answered.

"Yeah, really tingly," I agreed. "Almost fizzy, even. It's sort of an electrical sensation whenever we touch."

"But in a nice way," Mal clarified.

"Yes. It's, like, a comforting tingle. It's nice."

"And there's a sort of magnetism to it, too. Like it's tugging us together, encouraging us to maintain physical contact."

"That's the real reason why I'm always sitting in her lap. Being close to her…it feels as natural as breathing."

Hannah nodded seriously. "Thank you. That's really important for me to know if I'm going to bond with a familiar of my own."

"Glad to help," I said.

Chapter Text

I turned back into a cat in a bathroom stall, walking in on two legs and walking out on four. Mal kept a lookout. (She also sanitized my paws for me with her magic afterwards. Bathroom floors are icky, and cats don't wear shoes.)

We returned to the lunch table for the last few minutes before the bell rang. Marco made another remark about my beauty in all of my forms, and I generously allowed Hannah to pick me up. Meanwhile, plans were finalized: Mal and Hannah would get together tomorrow at Mal's house to copy spells; Mal and Grace would get together on Wednesday at Grace's house for their study date (with me in tow); and all of us would get together at Marco's house on Thursday for "Session Zero" of a D&D campaign.

For now, though, there were still another three hours of school left. Mal and Hannah walked together to the main building for their US History class, which they shared. And once again, Mal carried me as we passed through the halls, her arms gentle and protective around my diminutive form.

Hannah watched curiously. "You aren't having her ride in your backpack?"

"I don't think she'd fit. Or if she did, she wouldn't be very comfortable smushed between all my textbooks," Mal said. "And she's not a fan of the Pokéball spell, either, so I can't use magic to make her fit."

"I'm an accountant, not a Pidgey. It's undignified!" I complained.

"See, she's saying that she's an accountant, not a Pidgey," Mal translated, rolling her eyes affectionately.

I'd actually had the chance to read the spell in question yesterday when I was learning arcane script, and I knew there weren't really any elements of capturing involved, just spatial expansion: altering a container or a pocket to make its interior space larger than its exterior dimensions, giving it just enough extra volume to comfortably hold the caster's familiar—a literal pocket dimension, if you will. I could enter or leave the space freely so long as the spell was active.

Still, the idea of squeezing into Mal's pocket made me feel small, even if it would technically be the pocket expanding and not me shrinking. And I was already plenty small enough, thanks.

"You mean the Familiar Pocket spell, right? I always thought of it as more of a TARDIS than a Pokéball," said Hannah, as we arrived at the classroom.

The two of them sat in adjacent seats, and I hopped on top of Mal's desk. "Give it the ability to time-travel and I'm even less likely to want to go inside," I said. "I know how those things go. I don't want it to spit me out in the Late Cretaceous by mistake."

The teacher for this class was a short-haired Asian woman wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt. She was leaning against the wall next to the whiteboard on the far side of the room. "Who's your guest, Mal?" she asked, noticing me.

"Sorry, Ms. Bellman, this is Katelyn Winters, my emotional support cat! I, uh, I have a note, if you want to see it."

"Meow," I said cheerfully, as Mal produced the relevant paperwork.

Last class, I'd been caught flat-footed by the discovery of a warlock in our midst. But I really shouldn't have been. With my natural ability to see magical auras just by focusing my eyes properly, there was nothing stopping me from simply scanning the room.

It almost felt like cheating, somehow, being able to tell something like that just by looking. But ultimately, it wasn't all that different from using my nose to learn who had tuna salad for lunch. And if there were any other magic-users at Mal's school, I would much rather learn about it now than be surprised again.

So I started with the teacher. And she had a magic aura. A big, bright one.

Okay, see, that was quick. I wasn't expecting this kind of instant gratification. But, uh, now I knew, right?

There were also separate auras emanating from her earrings, her sneakers, and the messenger bag under her desk. This supported the obvious explanation that she was some kind of mage. It was possible that the aura on her indicated an active spell that was cast on her by someone else, but then why would there also be magic on her things?

I scanned the rest of the class. No one else was glowing octarine besides Mal, Hannah, Ms. Bellman, and myself. Cool.

Well. What now? My first instinct was to immediately tell Mal, but I stopped myself. Last time I did that, it also had the side effect of immediately tipping off the person I was alerting her about. That was reckless. Better to wait until Mal and I could talk more privately. For now, she would have to make do with what she was getting from me through our empathic link—she already knew that I had discovered something surprising.

Mal's curiosity was piqued, and she shot me an inquisitive look. I didn't say anything—I just flicked my tail and tried to project a feeling of let's talk about it later. She seemed to understand, and she let the matter drop for now.

In the meantime, while the class learned about the history of labor movements in the early 20th century, I sat quietly and observed.

Chapter Text

"Okay, now that we're alone, what's up?" Mal said to me. She had a free sixth period, and we were sitting together in a quiet area just outside the school library.

"Your history teacher is magic," I said bluntly. "I checked her out with my aura vision. Mal, she was lit up like a Christmas tree."

Mal was shocked. "What? Ms. Bellman?"

"Yeah. And it looked like a pretty strong aura too. Bolder, brighter, and more intense than ours. Plus, there were auras on her jewelry, and on her shoes, and on her bag."

"Damn, you're right, that does sound pretty conclusive." She shook her head, still dazed by the revelation. "This is a lot. What should we do?"

I snuggled in closer to her, sensing that she might feel overwhelmed. "I kind of hoped you would have an idea about that. But it's okay if you don't. I mean, we don't really have to do anything, right?"

"No, but doing nothing is still a decision," she replied, her hands reaching to stroke my fur without any conscious thought directing them. "Do you think she knows about us?"

"She didn't give any indication of it as far as I could tell. But then again, if she's as powerful as I think she is, she could have easily scanned you the same way I scanned her, right? So maybe she knew all along and just decided not to say anything. Who knows?"

"Magic-users are traditionally very insular," Mal said, frowning. "It wouldn't be unusual for two wizards to recognize one another and decide not to make contact."

"But you want to make contact." It wasn't a question. Now that her shock was wearing off, it was being replaced by excitement and anticipation.

She sighed. "Yeah. I totally do. You know I've dreamed about having a real mentor. What if she could teach me? Or…I mean, is that too much to hope for? What if she doesn't want to teach me?"

Anxiety briefly threatened to overcome her excitement, but I pressed myself tight against her, and I felt the darker emotions start to subside. "It would be her loss," I said sincerely. "You'd be a great apprentice."

"Thanks." We sat quietly for a moment: me nestled in her lap, her with her arms resting around me.

"Let's talk to her tomorrow morning," Mal finally said. "She has office hours before the first bell."

"What should we say? Do we just…ask her if she's a wizard?"

She shrugged. "I guess so. Unless we can think of something better in the meantime."

"And I guess you would probably also come out to her as a wizard in the process."

"Yeah. Not much getting around that. But I get the feeling she'll be cool about it. I mean, she's always seemed like a pretty chill person."

True. I got the same impression after sitting through today's class. "Should we tell anyone else about her?" I asked.

"Hmm…good question," she said thoughtfully. "I guess it's probably bad form to spread it around before we've even confirmed it. So I think I'm going to say no? At least for now. Like…it's not urgent, is it? We can wait until we know more, right?"

"I agree on principle, but I will add that when you're planning to meet privately with someone you don't know very well, it's a good idea to tell a friend where you're going and who you'll be with, just in case. Izzy and I would always do that for each other; she's very adamant about those kinds of safety precautions." 

"It's never really come up for me," Mal admitted. "But…now that you mention it…Izzy would actually be a great person to tell, wouldn't she? I mean, she's really canny about this sort of stuff, but also, like, if the two of you have, you know, a tradition, or a standard procedure that you've always followed together…I mean, I know how important that friendship is for you."

I felt a lump in my throat, and it wasn't a hairball. "Yeah," I said quietly. "Yeah, you're right. I'll message her when we get home. Thanks."

"You wanna hang out in the library and read for the rest of the period?" She nodded in the direction of the building. "That's what I usually do."

"Yeah, okay," I agreed.

I hopped down off her to let her stand up, and followed at her heels as she led me inside. The library was modest compared to the one at UC Davis, but that wasn't surprising for a small-town high school. The atmosphere was quiet and comfortable, and there were only a couple of other people there.

"Hey, d'you want me to scan for magic?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

"I already used a spell to scan the bookshelves at the start of the school year," she whispered. "But go ahead. May as well."

I focused my eyes just so, and slowly swiveled to examine the area. "There," I said, walking towards the shelf that pinged on my supernatural senses. "It's faint, but something over there is magical."

Mal followed me, and I sensed that she wasn't surprised. As we got closer, I saw that the source of the aura was an old copy of the Player's Handbook, looking beat-up and battered compared to the newer, nonmagical D&D books flanking it. "Ah," I said. "Makes sense."

"Yeah," Mal replied, crouching down next to me to tap the spine of the book. "This is the one I knew about. It was worth checking, though."

"Actually, can you pull it out for me? If we're going to play the game later, I should brush up on the rules."

"Ooh, I like your thinking!" she whispered, sliding the book out from its place on the shelf.

Pretty soon I was sitting on a table with the Player's Handbook opened to the chapter on magic while Mal leaned back in her chair to read The Things They Carried for her English class. I was a little clumsy at turning pages with my paws, but I managed it well enough. Occasionally I asked a question, and Mal would whisper an answer.

We weren't being very discreet about my ability to…y'know…read. But we were also tucked in a corner where the geometry of the space mostly sheltered us from the casual observation of the others in the library, and if someone did spot me turning pages, what were they going to say, exactly? Were they going to start telling everyone that they had seen a cat reading a book? All Mal would have to do was stare at them blankly and they'd probably feel like a fool. 

At least, that was my working assumption. No one ended up interrupting us, and we enjoyed a peaceful hour reading books together.

Chapter Text

Art class was last on Mal's schedule, and it mostly consisted of time for students to work on their own projects. Again, I discreetly scanned the room for signs of magic, but this time, nothing pinged (besides us). Mal spent the time sketching a few cantrips to top up her spell slots after casting Prestidigitation earlier, and the resulting abstract drawings were quite beautiful.

Meanwhile, the student sitting next to her, whose name was also Caitlyn (but with a "C"), asked to do a drawing of me, a request which I found very flattering. She showed Mal and me the final result once she was done, and both of us agreed it was an excellent likeness.

Then the final bell rang—school was out, and I followed Mal back to her bicycle, walking at her heels. "So, that wasn't too bad, right?" she asked me. "I mean, I hope you weren't too bored. I know there wasn't always much for you to do."

"Not always, no, but cats are champion nappers," I replied, eyeing the bike basket warily. "You wouldn't happen to have a more comfortable place for me to ride, though, would you? The basket doesn't offer much protection against the wind, and it doesn't have seat belts or cushions. I wasn't thrilled with it this morning."

She grimaced apologetically. "I think I picked that up in your emotions, yeah. Sorry about that. For now, you could try to squeeze in my backpack, but I bet that's even less comfortable. Or we could use the Pokéball spell, which I know you're not a fan of for other reasons."

I sat quietly for a moment. Against my will, my mind started to imagine being thrown from that bike basket, and then a truck barreling toward me as I lay helpless in the street, unable to run, unable to hide…I shuddered.

I sighed. Twist my arm, but…"Okay. Pokéball me."

Mal was a little surprised by my sudden acquiescence, but she nodded. "Which pocket?"

"I'll take the inside pocket in your coat."

She unclipped a little Pokéball keychain from her backpack. "I call upon the power of Familiar Pocket!" she proclaimed, brandishing the keychain in my direction, and then tapping it three times against the pocket that I had indicated. There was a brief flash of red light that seemed to originate from inside the coat.

"Did it work?" I asked, my tail flicking behind me.

"I think so," Mal said. "Try climbing in." She kneeled so I could reach. Gingerly, I looked around to make sure no one was watching, then stepped forward and slipped into her pocket.

Even though I knew how the spell worked, it was still a little jarring when I slid in all the way from my whiskers to my tail without any resistance, easily fitting inside what should have been a cramped space too small to hold me. The interior of the extradimensional space was lined with soft fleece, just like the coat, and it was shaped like…well, like the inside of a pocket: two vertical walls of fabric sewn together, open at the top, with seams along the sides and bottom. I don't know what else I expected.

But it was comfortable. Warm and soft, and snug, like being wrapped up in a blanket. And it smelled like Mal.

I decided maybe I didn't mind it so much after all.

"Are you okay in there? Can you hear me?" Mal's voice was slightly muffled, but still easily audible.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied. "I can hear okay. Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, but it's weird," she said. "On my end, it looks and feels just like an empty pocket, Kate. No bulge, no weight, it's like you vanished into nowhere."

I could feel the space being jostled from the outside. "Please try not to move me around so much," I said. "I'm afraid I'll throw up in your jacket."

"Sorry! Hang on a second." From the left-hand side of the pocket, I heard the sound of a zipper, and the jostling stopped. "Is that better?"

With the coat zipped up, it was much less likely to flap around when Mal moved, and now that the pocket was pressed closer against her in real space, I could feel the tingle of our bond more keenly, and I could hear the gentle lub-dub of her heartbeat through the fabric. "It's perfect," I said. "Thanks."

"What does it look like for you in there? I'm kind of curious."

"It pretty much just looks like the inside of your pocket, except that it's big enough for me to fit inside it," I said. "Hey, I wonder, what would happen if you put something else in the same pocket?"

"Let's find out!" There was the sound of a zipper partially unzipping, and then a hand poked through the top of the pocket, holding a cell phone. "This is so odd," Mal said. "I can sense you nearby, but from my perspective, it just feels like an empty pocket."

"From my perspective, I'm seeing your hand and your cell phone above me, but you're nowhere near the bottom of the space," I said. She let go of the cell phone, and it seemed to stop in midair. "...Aaand now it looks like it's just floating there. So, I guess the 'real' space and the extradimensional space overlap enough that I can see whatever else is in there, but not enough for it to follow me into the extra space?" I batted experimentally at the phone. I was able to move it, but it seemed to be confined to the dimensions of the original pocket. Fascinating!

"Fascinating!" said Mal. "It makes a lot of sense, though! The spell is designed specifically to hold the caster's familiar, and it doesn't have enough bandwidth as a level 1 spell to include anything that isn't soulbonded with me."

"And this lasts until dawn, right?" I asked.

"Yeah. There's another version that lets you instantly teleport in or out of the space at will, but it's only good for a couple hours of use. I figured the longer duration was more important."

"What do you think would happen if I transformed while I was in here?"

"Oh, please don't do that!" she said quickly. "The space can't expand any more than it already has. It would probably tear, and, um, I'm not sure whether it would just eject you and destroy my jacket, or create a rift in space and suck both of us into the Astral Plane? But, uh…"

"Right. Got it. Let's not do that, then." I am against being sucked through spatial rifts. Message received: do not fuck around with extradimensional spaces. The Astral Plane is probably littered with mages who learned that lesson the hard way.

"On that note," I added, "I have to admit that this spell is comfier and cozier than I expected, and I think I actually like it. It's nice."

Mal swelled with pride. "Oh, that's great to hear! I know how nervous you were about it!"

Yeah. But that was only because I don't want to feel small. Feeling small feels too much like feeling helpless. And feeling helpless feels too much like being unable to move, danger bearing down on me, horn blaring, lights flashing, small, helpless…

Ah, shit. Fuckin' trauma! I knew it would rear its ugly head eventually. Well, fuck you too, brain, I thought to myself, taking deep breaths. I'm not in danger. Listen to that heartbeat! You hear that? That's Mal's heartbeat. She's right here. It's her pocket that I'm in. No matter how small I am, I'm safe. I'm safe with her.

Gradually, I managed to pull my mind back from the edge of the impending trauma flashback. Bleh. At some point, I was going to have to find a therapist who accepted feline patients.

"Um, everything okay in there?" Mal's voice was concerned. She obviously picked up something over our empathic bond.

"Yeah, uh, sorry," I said awkwardly. "I think I, uh, I have some PTSD or something going on, thanks to my near-death experience? Must've stumbled over a triggering memory. I'm okay for now, though."

I sensed sympathy through our bond, coupled with worry on my behalf, and a pinch of relief that my distress wasn't because she did something wrong. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"Maybe later."

"Okay. Well, I'm here for you."

The irony of the emotional support cat having an emotional support human was not lost on me.

Chapter Text

"Okay, we're home! Come on out."

I climbed out of the extradimensional space and hopped up onto Mal's shoulder as she parked her bike out by the shed. Thomas was in the backyard tending the garden when we arrived, and he gave us a wave with a gloved hand. "How was school?" he asked.

"It was good! One of my classmates asked me out on a date and also turned out to be a warlock who can talk to animals, and we think my history teacher might be a mage too, but we're not 100% sure yet. And Kate was very popular!"

Thomas blinked. "Exciting day."

"Events definitely occurred," I said, nodding.

"Are you going to tell me more about this new suitor of yours?" He raised one eyebrow inquisitively.

Mal gave him a faux-innocent look over her shoulder as she headed inside through the open back door. "Sorry, Dad, no time for potentially embarrassing conversations, we gotta go finish scribing a spell!"

"Okay," he said, rolling his eyes. "Have fun, girls. Don't forget to triple-check everything!"

"We will!"

Back in her room, I leapt onto her desk, and she took her backpack off and let it thump to the floor as she took her seat in the chair. "So, what's the last step for this spell?" I asked.

"Just a couple finishing touches. Mainly, we need to lock in the verbal, somatic, and material components. This is usually the easiest part. For the verbal component, I typically just invoke the spell by name, and for the material component, we need something that symbolically represents the spell's effect—you can see here that the book recommends using a glove. And when there's a material component, the somatic component usually represents the way you manipulate the material component during the casting."

"We'll need a somatic component that I can manage in cat form, then," I said. How hard could that be? "Assuming the material component is a glove, do you have a glove that I can play with? I want to see how hard it is for me to manipulate."

Mal pulled open her spell component drawer, rummaged through it, and produced a box of disposable sanitary gloves. "Here we are. I knew these would come in handy!" She offered one to me. "Just don't chew on it."

"I know not to chew on it," I huffed.

I pounced on the glove, and proceeded to spend several minutes batting at it, tossing it around, and just generally playing with it in a traditionally feline fashion. It was probably very cute to watch, although Mal wasn't in the proper frame of mind to appreciate it; she was busy observing me in a more analytical fashion, trying to assess what might or might not work for the spell. Well, good for her, staying focused on the task at hand! Because I was totally distracted. What were we working on again?

"Oh, try that one again!" she said.

Right. Yes. Spellwork. "Like this?" I flicked the glove upwards with my paw, then snatched it out of the air on its way down.

"Yes! That should be perfect! Are you okay with that as the somatic component for the spell?"

"Sure, why not? It seems easy enough to repeat." I tried it again and successfully caught the glove a third time. I have to imagine that full-on juggling would be pretty hard when you're working with the paws and forelimbs of a housecat, but if all you need to do is toss something and then catch it again, the improved reflexes do a good job of making up for it.

Mal clicked one of her gel pens. "Then let's finish this thing!"

Chapter Text

It worked.

As we finished casting the spell, the glove that we had used as the material component began to glow softly and float in the air in front of me, taking on a more solid appearance and growing in size until it was a bit larger than a normal human hand. With an act of will, I directed it to pick up a pen, and a moment later, the pen was in its grasp!

"That's pretty fuckin' cool," I said. I walked around a little bit. The hand moved along with me, staying close.

"Can you reach the doorknob with it?"

"Let's find out." I hopped over to the bedroom door and willed the hand to reach up to turn the knob. And…it worked! "Yes! I can open doors! High five!" I sent the hand up to offer Mal a high five, and it didn't quite make it all the way—it seemed like the hand's maximum range was something like 2–3 feet away from me—but she enthusiastically returned the gesture nonetheless.

"Damn, do I love it when a new spell comes together," she said. "It's the best feeling! And the tandem casting went off without a hitch, too!"

"Too bad the hand only lasts a couple hours. It would be a nice one to have all day."

"It'll last longer if we can level up."

"Something to look forward to," I said with a nod.

"So…in the meantime…what does it feel like, having an extra hand?"

I swished the hand back and forth experimentally. "I'm not getting any tactile or proprioceptive sensation from it. First impression is that it's more like a little helper buddy than a proper extra limb. But I like how responsive it is to my commands—it's very intuitive to control. And it does seem like it's limited to a five-foot cube centered on me, like we expected."

"Good enough for doorknobs, though, right?" she replied earnestly.

"Yup!" I closed the door again, just to show that I could. Although I had my own personal opposable-thumbed human to operate doors for me—a hand maiden, if you will—I still relished the slice of independence afforded to me by the Helpful Hand. “What’s next on our agenda today? Are we scribing another spell?”

Mal flopped onto her bed, bouncing slightly before relaxing into a supine position. "There is an alarm clock spell I've been meaning to try out. But I was actually thinking I'd do some more research into familiar bonds. I did promise, after all."

"Oh, right, yeah." I may have been content enough with the way things currently stood, but it still couldn't hurt to have more knowledge and more options going forward. And if there were hard lessons to be learned, better to learn them the easy way now instead of smacking into them head-first later. "I don't know if I'll be much help with that. Wouldn't know where to start."

"That's okay. To be honest, I'm not sure I'd know what to do with a research assistant anyway," she admitted. "You can shadow me anyway, if you like, or we can split up and regroup around dinnertime?"

"I'll check my email and socials, then," I said. "Gotta stay connected to the outside world somehow!"

Mal nodded. I commanded the Helpful Hand to turn on my tablet, and found a notification from Corey.

Corey W: Hey, so, JSYK, I told Mom and Dad that you left on short notice because you got a job as a live-in executive assistant at a swanky upscale hotel.
Corey W: They were pretty pissed that you dropped out of school on short notice, so I had to tell them the salary was too good to pass up. Possibly I exaggerated it a little bit. Maybe a little beyond what would be reasonable for a job like that.
Corey W: So anyway I'm pretty sure they think you're doing sex work now!
Corey W: But the point is I successfully covered up the fact that you were turned into a cat, so, you're welcome 😁

Ugh. Well, at least he tried his best. I'm not sure I would have fared any better in that conversation. I sighed and replied to him with an animated gif of an unamused cat. Then I added:

Katelyn W: It was a good effort at least. We may have to figure out some damage control for your damage control though.

I sent a message to Izzy too, just to fill her in on the stories of the day.

Katelyn W: Hey, guess what, I helped Mal get a date with a cute warlock from her English class! Also it turns out Mal's history teacher is a mage of some kind probably?! We're gonna investigate that some more tomorrow.

They were both marked as offline, so I didn't expect a reply right now. That was okay. It wasn't especially time-sensitive.

Chapter Text

Mal's research turned up several facts.

First, she was able to confirm that familiars aged at a slower rate than typical animals of their kind. If I stayed a cat forever, I would still have a normal human lifespan. Definitely good to know.

Second, she managed to find information on exactly how to break a familiar bond. There was no special incantation or ritual—simply an act of will. However, because of the gravity of the bond, it's much easier to cleave a wizard and familiar together than it is to cleave them apart. It would be simple to break the connection, but it would require a substantial expenditure of energy, which would be drawn primarily from the wizard's life force.

That tied into the third thing she learned, which was that a severed soulbond is incredibly painful for both parties, but especially for the wizard, who always takes the brunt of the impact. If we split up, my spiritual wounds would be relatively light and quick to heal, while Mal could be scarred for years.

That's not to say I'd be getting off scot-free, though, which brings us to the fourth fact. Every single reference that Mal could find indicated that a familiar, once dismissed, would revert back to a normal animal of its kind, with no special powers. That could mean that I turned back into a normal human woman and lived happily ever after, but it could also just as easily mean that I turned into a normal housecat, like I was now, but minus the magical abilities allowing me to transform or communicate. And between the two possibilities, it was about 50/50 either way.

Even worse, there was at least one source that suggested the dismissed familiar reverts to animal intelligence and loses all ability to speak and understand human language. Mal was pretty sure that was just another way of saying the familiar loses the magical boosts to its intelligence granted by the bond, and that I would ultimately still be me, but I was a little less confident. A cat's brain simply doesn't have the same capacity for language as a human's brain. If I were cut off from magic and left with only normal feline biology, there was no way to predict what the ramifications might be, and total aphasia (or worse!) could easily be the result.

So, uh, yeah, nope, that option could go ahead and fuck right off of the table. That's one coin I have no interest in ever flipping, since I would very much like to not suffer the Baleful Polymorph equivalent of Flowers for Algernon, please and thank you.

There was some good news: Mal did manage to come up with one spell that would definitively revert me back to human form, permanently. And it would reliably work regardless of whether our bond was broken or not. The corresponding bad news was that the spell in question, Polymorph Any Object, was level 8. And at Mal's current power levels, that was several orders of magnitude beyond her capabilities. It would likely take decades of intense study for her to reach that level of mastery, if she ever got there at all. Well, at least if no other method presented itself, I could probably return to humanity just in time to settle into a nice retirement home! We'll, uh, we'll call that Plan B. Or maybe Plan Z.

There were also some spells that could allow the subject to shift forms on a more temporary basis, similar to the ability I already had, but more open-ended. Those spells were also too high level for Mal to cast, but several of them were only a level or two beyond her—much more realistic than Polymorph Any Object. Oh, and she discovered a ritual to transmute a familiar into a different kind of familiar, in case I ever decided I wanted to try being some other small animal instead of a cat. A mildly interesting possibility, although not one that I was super excited for, since I felt like I was pretty comfortable in my feline skin, and I didn't really have a burning desire to be a bird or a lizard or a rodent instead.

"Boy, it sure is a good thing I'm satisfied with the way things are," I said, once Mal had finished presenting her findings. "Because that's a big ol' heaping pile of reasons not to mess with the status quo. I don't want to blow up your soul! And I certainly don't want you making that sacrifice on my behalf only for me to turn from a talking cat into a non-talking cat!"

I sensed that Mal was still feeling guilty about sticking me in this position, so I nuzzled up against her. "No complaints here, though," I added. "I was already planning to stick around. I'm rather enjoying being a talking cat, all things considered."

"Thanks, Kate," she said. "For whatever it's worth…I'm rather enjoying having you around too."

"Good. Because I require skritches."

She laughed and scratched my head. "There?"

"If you can get my upper back…yeah, that's the spot," I purred.

Chapter Text

Isabella J: Damn, Katie, you got wizards out the wazoo over there! I thought your girl was going to a normal high school, not Brakebills University!
Katelyn W: Maybe it's just that all the spellcasters tend to find each other and form little clusters.
Isabella J: Yeah, maybe. Just like the queer kids do.
Katelyn W: Well, our plan is to approach Mal's history teacher in private before school tomorrow morning and just explain that we're magical, and use that as a springboard to ask her about her magic. Thoughts?
Isabella J: …
Isabella J: Don't take this the wrong way, but…is it any of your business if she's a wizard? If she wants to keep it private, it feels like it would be rude to tell her that you clocked her.
Katelyn W: If you were a kid, and you and some of your friends secretly had magic powers, but you'd NEVER met an adult who had magic powers like yours, wouldn't you be excited to meet one?
Isabella J: 🤔
Isabella J: Okay, sure, under that framing device, I can see how it would make sense.
Isabella J: But when this happens in comic books, the adult usually pretends to befriend and mentor the kid before revealing that they were evil the whole time and it was all a trap.
Katelyn W: I thought of that too. But Mal's been in her class for a while and says she's actually cool and nice. And she seemed pretty cool today, too.
Katelyn W: Oh, and also, fiction is not real life, I guess.
Isabella J: Hmm.
Isabella J: Well, if you do this, you can't undo it. So, be sure.
Isabella J: And do a background check! Look her up on the internet. Find her socials and comb through them for red flags.
Katelyn W: 👍
Isabella J: Do you want me to text after to check on the two of you?
Katelyn W: Sure. The first bell is at 8:30 AM, I think. We'll be done by then. You have Mal's number?
Isabella J: Yeah, I got it from her on Saturday.
Isabella J: I don't know how the straightforward talking-it-out method is going to go, but I'll say this for it, it's a lot more sensible than trying to pull off silly hijinks like following her home to spy on her, or engineering some kind of situation that would force her to reveal herself.
Katelyn W: It's too bad, because those plans sound fun! I kind of want to do some wacky shenanigans.
Isabella J: No. No shenanigans, hijinks, capers, or antics of any kind. Bad kitty.🙅🏽
Katelyn W: I know, I know. 😅
Katelyn W: How is everything back home?
Isabella J: It's just school and work, same as always, except that I miss you! 😢 If you're going to be away indefinitely, I think I'll have to find a new roommate. It feels too empty around here.
Katelyn W: I miss you too ❤️
Isabella J: But on the other hand, what if I sublet your room, and then surprise, you undo the spell and you're human again and now you can't move back in because it's taken?
Katelyn W: Ah. Well. As it happens. Got some news on that front.
Isabella J: 😮
Katelyn W: Mal's research turned up how to break the bond. We could do it tonight if we wanted. But it would shred her soul up real bad, and we still don't know whether I'd even change back to human afterwards.
Katelyn W: So, yeah, I'm not doing that.
Isabella J: Fuck, I'm sorry, Katie, that sucks. 😧
Katelyn W: Yeah, I have some complex feelings about it.
Katelyn W: Especially because I sort of decided I don't WANT to break the bond in the first place. I actually like being a familiar! And I like having a soul-sister to take care of, and even being a cat is really growing on me! So going into the research, I'm pretty sure a part of me was HOPING for a reason not to go back!
Isabella J: Really? Wow. Damn.
Katelyn W: Yeah.
Katelyn W: See, I figured it out. I saw the line from Point A to Point B. I said to myself, Katelyn, you could wallow in what-ifs and maybes, going through a challenging and dramatic emotional arc in the process. Or, you could skip past most of the intervening angst and misery to get to the part where you decide to stay.
Katelyn W: That's what I said to myself. Word for word, probably, even.
Isabella J: It would be great if our emotions were so easily logicked away, huh? 😞
Katelyn W: Maybe they can be! Maybe I just found a secret exploit! Maybe I'm a champion speedrunner for emotional arcs and I'll win a trophy for how not angsty I definitely am! 🙃
Isabella J: If I were going through all the stuff you're going through, I would probably need a lot of time to process all of my feelings about it. Would you tell me to just get over it and skip to the end of my arc?
Katelyn W: What? Of course not! This is potentially really traumatic and emotionally difficult stuff! You should have all the time you need!
Isabella J: Then give yourself that same leeway! It's okay if you need more time, too.
Katelyn W: 😮
Katelyn W: Okay but counterpoint. What if I just ignore the hard stuff for so long that it eventually goes away on its own. Bam, solved it.
Isabella J: Well, I guess I would just say that it's important to be honest with yourself about all your feelings, and also to acknowledge that it's okay to be feeling those feelings.
Katelyn W: I know, I know, it's just, I mean, it's a lot to unpack.
Katelyn W: I'm happy that I get to stay, but I'm disappointed that I don't really have the choice. But I also feel relieved that the choice was made for me. And the worst part is the part of me that thinks, well, you DO have the choice, it's just a risk, and if you aren't willing to take that risk in order to be with your friends and family again, you're abandoning them.
Katelyn W: Meanwhile, I'm still mentally scarred from my near-death experience that kicked this whole thing off.
Isabella J: Oh, fuck, that'll traumatize you, yeah.
Katelyn W: Yeah.
Katelyn W: I'm not abandoning everyone, am I?
Isabella J: Katie, one of the first things you did after being turned into a cat was message me to let me know you were okay. Is that something you would do if you were abandoning me?
Katelyn W: I guess not. Thanks.
Katelyn W: You wouldn't happen to know any therapists for cats, would you?
Isabella J: Best I can offer from my social circle is a psych major who's a furry. Sorry.
Isabella J: Maybe we can find you an online therapist. Do you think that without seeing them in person, you could convince an online therapist that magic is real and that you spend 23.5 hours a day as a housecat?
Katelyn W: How? I couldn't convince you.
Isabella J: You convinced Corey. Sort of.
Isabella J: Okay not really
Isabella J: Okay what if you found a normal in-person therapist and turned human for the sessions?
Katelyn W: In order to do that I would need a longer duration for my human form.
Katelyn W: And the best way to achieve that is by leveling up. Which takes time. Therefore I can't do it right now, therefore it's a problem for Future Me and I don't have to worry about it now!
Isabella J: You know you can't just let things like this fester forever.
Katelyn W: Counterpoint: Or can I?
Isabella J: Oh, Katie.
Isabella J: Would it at least help you feel more grounded if I sent you some of your things?
Katelyn W: Yes omg tysm I need my books you're the best ❤️
Isabella J: ❤️

Chapter Text

The light of dawn woke me on Tuesday morning. I uncurled myself and stretched out to yawn. Mal's feet formed a lump under the covers next to me. Gently, I walked over her legs and up her back to where her golden hair sprawled out haphazardly across her pillow—the only time her hair wasn't magically perfect was in the early mornings before she had the chance to spell it in place—and I poked her in the back of the head.

"Mmf," she said.

"Arise, young wizard, and face your destiny," I said.

She groaned, eyes still closed. "Five more minutes."

I poked her again. She rolled over, forcing me to jump aside.

"Mmrf," she said, and then, after a moment's thought, added, "Blerg."

"C'mon, sun's up, we gotta go join the world of the living."

She sighed and opened her eyes. "Blah. Fine." With a grunt, she sat up, yawned, rubbed her eyes, and groggily reached over to her nightstand for her medication. "Once I graduate, I'm never waking up before noon again," she grumbled.

"Very sound policy," I agreed. "Breakfast?"

"Mind if I change out of my pajamas first?"

"Go for it. I can hear your dad out in the kitchen; I'll just go bug him."

"Okay, I'll join you in a minute."

I slipped through the bedroom door—left open a crack as a matter of policy now, for my convenience—and trotted down the hall toward the sound and smell of brewing coffee. Thomas was sitting at the dining table with a newspaper and a bowl of oatmeal, wearing a bathrobe over a pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

"Meow!" I said cheerfully.

He turned around. "Ah, good morning, Kate."

"Meow," I replied, walking over to the food bowl on the floor and looking up at him expectantly.

He got the message. "Oh, of course," he said, standing up from his seat. "Let me fill that up for you."

I nodded. "Meow," I said gratefully.

"I'm leaving to pick up my wife from the airport soon," he added, as he picked up the bowl and retrieved a can of cat food.

"Right, Mal mentioned she was out on a business trip, wasn't she?" I cocked my head inquisitively.

He opened the lid on the can and poured the contents into the bowl, then set the bowl down again in front of me. "I didn't understand what you just said, but if you're wondering whether I told her about your situation, the answer is yes, I explained as best I could. I hope you're alright with my sharing the story."

An incorrect guess, but useful information regardless. I nodded at him, then tucked into my breakfast in as dignified a fashion as I could muster. Which was not very dignified by human standards, but look, there's only so much that can be done when you're eating cat food out of a bowl on the floor without any utensils, alright? By housecat standards, I'm sure I was positively regal in my dignity.

Anyway, I sure as heck wouldn't have traded breakfasts with Thomas. Smelled like he was eating plain, unflavored oatmeal. Not even a hint of cinnamon in there, the poor soul.

Mal emerged from the hallway, now wearing tight jeans, a white blouse with pink trim, and her fleece jacket from yesterday, with her hair, of course, back to being perfectly styled, as usual. "Morning, Dad!"

"Good morning," he replied. "I'm picking your mom up from SFO today. Do you want some of this oatmeal? There's more in the pot."

"Yeah, okay, sure," she said. She went to the cupboard and retrieved a bowl, then started spooning oatmeal into it. "I'm going to school early today. Gonna visit Ms. Bellman's office hours."

"Do you want a ride? I'm going to be heading that direction anyway."

"Sure! That would be great! Hannah is going to come over and swap spells after school; she can give me a ride home." Mal sat down at the table and, wisely, sprinkled magic onto the sad oatmeal to give it some flavor. "You want me to zhuzh yours up too?" she asked, indicating Thomas's bowl.

"Oh, no need, I'm already almost done anyway."

"I'll take some zhuzh," I said. "This stuff is always under-seasoned. It could use some barbecue sauce or something."

She nodded and leaned down to sprinkle some sparkles on my bowl. "Meow," I said approvingly.

"You know, you never finished telling me about that suitor of yours," Thomas said, raising an eyebrow at Mal. "Who was this warlock who asked you out? Did you say yes?"

Mal fidgeted uncomfortably. "Daaad!"

"What? I can't express a little curiosity about my daughter's social life?"

"Look, it's a long story, okay? Maybe another time." She took a big bite of oatmeal, then gestured expressively at the bowl with her spoon. Evading the subject: a tried and true strategy.

I could see where she was coming from. Telling her dad everything would mean talking with a parent about her love life and coming out to him as queer—two awkwardness minefields rolled into one. If he tried to press the issue further, it might be a good idea for me to interrupt somehow and give my wizard an off-ramp out of the conversation.

"Ah, alright, alright." Thomas sighed, conceding his ground. No distraction needed from me, then. "Go ahead and eat your breakfast and don't talk to your father about boys. I guess your old man isn't 'fleek' or 'yolo' or 'dee-tee-eff' enough to understand what you're going through."

Mal nearly choked on her oatmeal. "Oh my gosh, Dad!" she sputtered.

He just gave an innocent shrug. "What? Something wrong?"

Mal facepalmed. "You're officially banned from using slang, Dad. You are committing crimes against the vernacular and you're going to word jail."

"Going to word jail is so stigmatized in our society," he said, shaking his head sadly. "You know, so many inmates there are just ordinary people who suffer from…a diction."

Mal groaned. "Please stop," she said.

"I personally think what the system really needs is…sentencing reform," he added.

She placed her head on the table and groaned even louder.

"Those were pretty good, actually," I said.

Mal pointed accusatorily at me without lifting her head. "Don't you take his side. You'll only encourage him."

I curled my tail a little in amusement. "Hey, while he's in word jail, maybe you can send him letters," I said.

"Oh no, now you're doing it too? Betrayed by my own familiar! Et tu, Katelyn?"

"Is she cracking dad jokes now too?" asked Thomas. "You know, when someone who's not a dad tells dad jokes, I'm pretty sure that's a faux pa."

Mal threw her hands in the air. "Okay, I'm being assaulted on all sides, so I'm going to go get my backpack in order," she announced. She wolfed down the rest of her oatmeal, stalked theatrically off to her room, and then finally broke into giggles when she thought she was out of earshot. I smiled inwardly and went back to my food.

Chapter Text

After breakfast, it was time for us to head out. "Your backpack seems a lot lighter today," I remarked as I followed Mal into the car, hopping onto her lap.

"Oh, my backpack is lighter today because we only have all seven periods on Mondays," she explained. "Tuesdays and Thursdays are just the even-numbered ones, and Wednesdays and Fridays are just the odd numbers. Since I have 6th period free, I only have to bring materials for two classes today. Did you want to ride in my pack, now that there's more space?"

"Can we make it a Familiar Pocket?"

"Sure. Which pocket do you want to expand for today?"

I indicated the largest compartment in her backpack. I had liked being snug up against her heart when I was in her jacket pocket, but I figured with the backpack being large enough to plausibly hold me without magic, I would have more freedom to move in and out of it without worrying about who might be observing me.

"That one?" she asked. I nodded. She tapped her Pokéball keychain to the backpack's main compartment and said, "I call upon the power of Familiar Pocket!" Red light flashed, and I climbed into the bag.

While the jacket pocket had expanded downwards, this one expanded outwards horizontally. I found myself sitting on a floor of plasticky synthetic fabric, level with Mal's books and papers rather than below them. The space was definitely bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. "Looks like it worked just fine," I said.

I heard Thomas's muffled voice from the direction of the driver's seat. "New spell? What does it do?"

"Just a limited spatial expansion spell, Dad. Allows the caster's familiar to fit comfortably inside a pocket or container that would normally be too small."

"Oh, like in Doctor Who!" he said. I guess that was two points for Hannah's interpretation of the spell. "It's safe, right?"

"Of course," Mal replied, tactfully choosing not to mention anything about the admittedly unlikely possibility of rifts in space sucking people into the Astral Plane. All things considered, it was probably still safer for me to be in here than for me to be in a moving car without a seatbelt.

I curled up at the bottom of the backpack. Whatever material it was made of, it wasn't soft, exactly, but it was somehow still very comfortable. "I'm going to rest my eyes a little," I announced. "Wake me when we get there."

"I want a nap too," Mal said with a yawn. "Can we switch, and I'll be the cat today?"

"Sorry."

I drifted off into a light doze, not fully asleep, not fully awake.

…Until Mal roused me from my half-sleep with a gentle nudge.

"Ready?" she whispered.

I unzipped the partially closed pocket with one paw to climb out of the backpack and onto her shoulder. We were in a hallway in the main building, just outside the open door into Ms. Bellman's room. "Not getting any readier," I replied. "Let's go."

She stepped inside. There were no other students in the classroom—just a short-haired Asian woman sitting at a desk, apparently grading papers. Ms. Bellman. A quick look told me that her aura was just as strong as it had been yesterday. Also, as Mal approached her, I was able to get a better look at her nametag; apparently her first name was Sophia. Good to know.

Sophia Bellman smiled at Mal. "Good morning, Miss Avalon!" she said.

"Uh...good morning…I, uh…" Mal stammered, and then trailed off nervously.

"Everything alright?" said Ms. Bellman. "What can I do for you?"

"Can I, uh, ask you a personal question?"

Ms. Bellman set her pen down, stood up, and walked over to close the door. Then she sat down in one of the student desks next to Mal. "Sure. Ask me anything," she said earnestly.

Mal sat down too, and took a deep breath. "Are you a wizard?"

Ms. Bellman raised an eyebrow. "What makes you ask that?" she replied, her tone suddenly guarded.

"Well, uh…you see…I mean, you remember Kate? My cat?" Mal gestured at me. "I was talking with her after class, and, you know, cats can see magic auras, right? So she mentioned to me that she saw that you had a really strong aura around you, and also around your shoes, and your earrings…so, we thought you might be a wizard." She swallowed. "Like me."

This time both eyebrows went up. "You're a wizard?"

"And I'm a talking cat," I added, raising my hand.

Mal nodded. "And she's a talking cat," she repeated, gesturing toward me again. "I've been studying magic for a little while now. I can only do basic spells, but I'm learning. Katelyn is my familiar." Hesitantly, she waved a hand and a halo of dancing lanterns appeared above her.

Ms. Bellman looked up with only mild surprise at the obvious magical spell illuminating the room. "Impressive form," she said. "And a familiar, too? I don't see a lot of those. Although all cats are talking cats, once you know how to listen." She smiled. "Dai stihó, then, cousin. Are you on errantry?"

Chapter Text

Mal blinked in confusion. "Uh."

"Yeah, I don't know what that means either," I said.

Ms. Bellman frowned and leaned back in her seat. "Dai stihó is a traditional wizard's greeting. I'm surprised you didn't learn it from your Manual."

"I'm…mostly self-taught. And still pretty new at it." Mal suddenly seemed embarrassed. "There's probably a lot I don't know." She waved a hand again and dismissed the Dancing Lights.

"What sort of workings have you done so far?"

"I'm sorry, wait, back up," I said. "What's this Manual that explains things? What does it mean to be on errantry? What's the right way to listen to a cat? Does that mean you can talk to cats? What flavor of spellcaster are you exactly, Ms. Bellman?"

"You can call me Sophia, if you like, little one," she said, looking at me with understanding in her eyes. But something about the way she said it sounded different, like I was hearing it with my heart—not my ears. Or…something like that? "The universe is made of language. When you know the Speech, you can communicate with just about anything." She paused. "But then again, you're unusually proficient in the English language for a cat, aren't you?"

"Meowth, that's right!" I replied, drawing a giggle from Mal. "I'll tell you my backstory if you tell me yours, Sophia."

Sophia Bellman sighed. "I swear, I'm not trying to be cryptic or anything. We must be missing some common points of reference." She reached over her shoulder with one hand, and a plain-looking book appeared in it as if pulled from an invisible pocket in the air. The words So You Want To Be a Wizard were embossed on the front cover. "This is my Manual. Nine years ago, when I was just a little younger than you, I found it in an old bookstore—or, I suppose, it found me. It showed me the Oath, and I took it. In Life's name and for Life's sake, I swore that I would use the Art in service of that Life, and put aside fear for courage, and death for life, when it is right to do so."

"Wow," said Mal, awestruck.

"After that, of course, came my Ordeal," Sophia continued. "It was intense. But I survived. And I've been practicing ever since, helping to tilt the balance of life and death towards life—where I'm able." She smiled. "When I'm not teaching history to high school students, that is."

"What's an Ordeal?" I asked. I looked at Mal. "Did you have anything like that?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. I didn't take an Oath either. I became a wizard by inheriting magical talent and studying my grandmother's spellbook. I've never heard of an Oath, or an Ordeal, in this context."

Sophia opened her book. "I need a comparative analysis of the most common alternative magical traditions of this district and a list of their known practitioners." As she spoke, the book's pages began turning of their own accord. "Ah, I thought so. We're operating on different magic systems entirely. This is making more sense now," she said, once the pages settled down.

I nodded slowly. "Like we're using GAAP and you're using IFRS." (Those are two different competing standards for reporting financial statements. I promise it's a very good analogy.)

"I'm sorry, does your spellbook have a search function?" Mal leaned in to take a closer look at the page. "I've never seen that language before. It doesn't look anything like my arcane script."

"That's the written form of the Speech. And yes, the Manual does have a search function, although sometimes it has a tendency to show me what I need rather than what I want." She ran her finger down the page. "Luckily, it seems like they're aligned in this case. Look, here's you!" She spun the book around and pointed to an image of Mal and me together.

"A little creepy that it has our picture," I said.

"It can only identify you because you revealed yourselves to me. Otherwise, it redacts personal information for privacy," she clarified. "Apparently there are four other unidentified individuals at this school besides you who operate, covertly, under the same methodology as you."

I could sense the gears turning in Mal's head. I was doing the count myself, too. Hannah, Marco, and Grace only added up to three. "Four besides us?" said Mal.

"So it seems. I take it that you know one or more of them already? You did mention you're only mostly self-taught."

Mal hesitated. "Yes," she said.

"Well, under my magic system, I'm one of the local advisories for the Sonoma region, so if you or any of your cohorts need help with magic, you can let them know to come to me, and I'll do my best to advise them!" She spun the book back, bit her lip, and flipped the page. "It looks like there's a lot of differences in our respective methodologies, though," she added. "I don't have much experience in interdisciplinary work. I'll have to do some research first. But you asked about the Oath, and the Ordeal?"

Mal and I both nodded.

"The Oath is a promise that you make to the Powers that govern the universe. Swearing that vow lets you become a conduit for the type of magic that I use—but first, you're tested, pitted against the forces of evil somehow. That's the Ordeal. The exact details are personal, but I can tell you it was harrowing as heck, that's for sure."

Then she turned to me again, looked me in the eyes, and raised one eyebrow. "Your turn. How is it that you understand English so well? "

"Oh, that's simple," I said cheerily. "I was a human before I was a cat! This whole four-legs-and-a-tail thing is actually a pretty recent development."

This time it was Sophia who was awestruck. "Whaaat? How did that happen?"

"Eh, just some isekai bullshit. A runaway truck was about to hit me at the same time Mal cast her spell to conjure a familiar. Wires got crossed, and poof, instead of being a pancake, I'm a cat!" I shrugged.

"Also, for the record, even if you had been an ordinary cat, the modifications I made to the spell that conjured you would still have let you understand English," Mal pointed out. "We didn't end up needing that particular feature, though, obviously."

"How long ago did this happen?" Sophia asked.

Mal counted on her fingers. "Um…four and a half days ago. Actually, I'm still a little bit baffled at how unbothered she is about it."

"Hey, cats are majestic creatures who don't have to pay for rent or groceries! And you're hooking me up with magic familiar powers. Including the ability to shapeshift. Could be a heck of a lot worse." I paused for a second. "Actually, Sophia, you wouldn't happen to know any tricks for extending a shapeshifting effect, would you? Cuz right now I only get half an hour a day."

"Um," said Sophia, "I suppose I might. Have you tried using a wearable charm? That could be a good starting place."

"You mean like a magic item?" Mal asked. "I've never really been able to craft any magic items more complicated than a single-use scroll. But I guess if you have magic shoes and jewelry, you must know how…could you teach me, do you think?" Hopeful excitement flickered across her emotions.

"Well, like I said, I'll have to do some research first. But…yes, of course, I'd be glad to."

Mal's eyes lit up with delight.

"And if you can show me your shapeshifting spell, I might be able to work up something right now for you to extend it," Sophia added.

"Heck yeah!" I hopped down to the floor and spoke the words to cycle through all of my different forms in turn. "Does that help?" I asked, once I was back in the shape of a housecat.

"Yes, I think so." Sophia flipped through her book. "You're not using the Speech to trigger it, but it looks like it still operates under the principles of magic I'm familiar with once it's running. Which means…well, this is worth a try, at least." With a fluid gesture, she swept her hand across the page, and the text was swept along behind, leaving an arc of strange, foreign characters floating in the air. "This spell is designed to reinforce other spells by absorbing light and kinetic energy over time and releasing it as magical energy. I can't promise unlimited uptime, but if this works, it should essentially let you build up a charge which you can spend to stay transformed longer."

"Cool!" I said, leaping back up onto the desk.

"Super cool," said Mal.

Sophia swirled the words around so that they formed a ring. She looked me in the eyes. "With your permission, I will link this spell to you, and while it lasts, it will capture and store surplus energy for you to withdraw as you like to power your own workings. Do you consent?"

I hadn't forgotten my conversation with Izzy over Messenger. If Sophia Bellman was secretly evil, the spell she was talking about gifting me could contain some kind of Trojan horse to spy on me or siphon my power or something. But I was getting good vibes, and at some point I think you just have to decide to trust people.

"I consent," I said.

With another gesture from Sophia, the ring of letters floated toward me and began to tighten, spinning faster until it was an inky blur. The blur became a streak, and then the streak was a band of dark black fabric, now no longer spinning as it settled around my left foreleg—a bracelet.

I shook my leg experimentally. There was a gentle weight to the bracelet, but it felt comfortable and secure.

"Kickass," I said.

Chapter Text

"Marco, you wouldn't believe it, she's like some kind of a cross between a cleric, a paladin, and a truenamer!"

"A truenamer?"

"A truenamer! Isn't that wild? And she fabricated a wearable persistent thaumatic storage device for Kate out of thin air like it was nothing! She's so cool!"

"Is that what she called it? A wearable persistent thaumatic…"

"Well, no, that's not what it's called, it's just, I mean, you know, a description. Like, with adjectives. Look, I'm a wizard, I'm allowed to make up technobabble! That's not the point. The point is, Ms. Bellman is, like, a cool and awesome high-level spellcaster, okay?"

"Okay, okay."

The two of them quieted down as the teacher started talking about how to conjugate regular verbs in the future tense. We were about five minutes into Spanish class, and Mal was still vibrating with excitement in the aftermath of this morning's meeting with her history teacher.

"I'll explain more in the group chat after class," Mal whispered to Marco. Marco nodded.

Meanwhile, I was lounging in my usual spot on her lap, thinking.

Not about anything profound, mind you. I was just wondering whether all cats were nearsighted or if it was just me, because I was nearsighted as a human.

For that matter, how much about my cat body was determined by my human body? I mean, female human, female cat, that was an obvious congruence, but if it wasn't, like, causally related somehow, then it was just a 50/50 chance of the two aligning, right? And it seemed like my age as a young human adult corresponded with my new body's apparent position in the feline life cycle, as best as I understood it. But on the other hand, there was my hair, which changed color…but according to Mal, that was because her familiar spell couldn't produce cats of any other color, so surely I had to take the hair color thing with a grain of salt. Same with eye color—not that feline eye colors could be expected to map 1:1 to human eye colors either way. So…nearsighted human, nearsighted cat?

Dammit, see, this was going to keep me up at night now. Maybe Thomas would know. I'd have to ask him. For that matter, can cats take eye exams? Even if they could, were there specialist manufacturers out there who could sell corrective lenses for housecats? If there were, surely it would cost a fortune to essentially have them custom-made for me.

Nah. That was a pipe dream. Unless…if Sophia knew how to craft magic items, could she craft a magic pair of prescription lenses for me? Or teach Mal how to do it? It would make it easier to follow these classes if I could see the whiteboard. You know, there are kids out there who suffer from vision problems and might not even realize it, and they struggle in school because they can't see the board up at the front of the classroom, and all it takes is a pair of glasses to make their education accessible for them. Before I got my glasses, I used to always sit in the front row. People thought I was just a teacher's pet, you know, but really I just wanted to be able to see what was going on. Lucky for me, one of my teachers noticed me squinting, and pulled me aside after class to ask if I'd had my eyes checked. So I got glasses. And now, I'm a student's pet! Ha! Makes you think, doesn't it?

I bet it was probably a cat thing. It would make sense that cats' eyes are just tuned differently than humans'. Cats are crepuscular predators, adapted for hunting in low light during the dusk and dawn hours. I bet they—we—evolved to give up some distance vision in exchange for better night vision. Plus, there were other aspects of my vision that were different, too, like my color vision, and my peripheral vision, and my aura vision. If those things were typical for cats, then maybe nearsightedness was too.

Oh, right, aura vision! I hadn't scanned Spanish class for magic auras yet. That was worth a go. I looked around the room. Hmm. Nah. No unexpected flashes of octarine. Whoever Magic User #4 was, they weren't in this room. Or if they were, they were warded against detection somehow. There were a couple spells in the Player's Handbook that could do that. Nondetection, Nystul's Magic Aura, Mind Blank…well, probably not Mind Blank, since that's an 8th level spell, and it would be pretty weird if an archmage with that kind of power was just hanging out at a high school.

Actually, come to think of it, Sophia had said there were four people at this school using our magic system, but she never said if there were others using her magic system. Or if there were even more competing systems of magic besides those two. Like we're over here complying with GAAP, and she's using IFRS, and then some other folks are out there preparing their financial statements according to…uh, whatever that Canadian system is called. Starts with an A, I think? Look, I'm not an international accountant, I mostly just know GAAP. You get the point, though.

On the other hand, how much did it matter if there were other people practicing other kinds of accounting/magic around here? Hmm. It would be interesting from a purely intellectual standpoint, at least, and maybe combining different methods could result in magic that neither could achieve alone. But we already had our hands pretty full trying to research just one magic system. Exploring all the different combinatorics of multiple systems together sounded like a much more difficult and advanced enterprise. It would make sense to hold off until we had a more solid foundation of standard arcane magic first. And yeah, I guess I was thinking of Mal's wizardry as the standard. Chalk it up to bias.

ASPE! That was the Canadian system. Of course. Something something private enterprise. I didn't know anything about its rules, but I remembered that the name sounds kind of like a snake.

Anyway, advanced interdisciplinary research sounded like a problem for Future Us. Kind of like how therapy was something for Future Me to worry about once we leveled up enough to make my human shape hold long enough for…wait, hang on. I had a charm now to extend the duration! Shit. I needed a new excuse.

Or, hey, maybe I should just stop thinking so hard and just pay attention to class! What were they talking about now? Did they make it to irregular verbs yet? Just because I wasn't being graded didn't mean it wasn't valuable to brush up on Spanish grammar and vocabulary! Yep! Definitely a better thing to focus on!

Chapter Text

Mal
And that should pretty much cover everything we learned this morning!

Hannah
Wow 😮

Marco
I've heard stories about other magic systems.

Marco
…But I'm sure we all have, since that basically describes the entire sci-fi/fantasy genre 😉

Mal
So you didn't know anything about this whole other paradigm? @Marco

Marco
Nope! Nothing specific, anyway. I knew that the rules for arcane magic in D&D 3.5e are faithful to real life, and that it was possible that divine magic might be real (and wouldn't necessarily run on D&D rules), but I had no idea how it might work or what it would be like.

Hannah
This universal language that she uses, can anyone learn that? Because I want to learn that.

Mal
I'm not sure, tbh.

Hannah
Okay, I'm going to have to ask her, because I'm pretty sure I have a lot of questions. Like, can she talk to anything with it? Like trees and rocks and stuff? Or just animals?

Mal
I don't know. She definitely made it sound like she could talk to anything. Probably.

Marco
Her system does sound a lot like divine magic, the way you're describing it. Getting your magic by swearing an oath to a deific power of some kind who then grants you the spells you need rather than the spells you necessarily want…

Grace
I still don't fully understand our magic system tbh.

Hannah
You should try playing a warlock in the D&D campaign, @Grace. Maybe it'll get you more used to your own powers. Plus, it's a pretty newbie-friendly class.

Grace
That's not a bad idea @Hannah

Kate
I want to play a wizard. I've decided that wizards are cool.

Mal
❤️

Hannah
A catfolk wizard?

Kate
Is that a playable race? What book is it from?

Marco
It's from Races of the Wild.

Kate
I've only gotten as far as the Player's Handbook, but it seems like human, halfling, gnome, and dwarf are the premium choices, even though elf is the one that actually has wizard as a favored class.

Kate
Am I missing something or are half-elves really underwhelming?

Hannah
It's not just you. They kind of suck in this edition, especially compared to humans. There's only a few niche builds that can really use half-elf effectively.

Mal
You should check out Unearthed Arcana. It has some great variant races and class features. IMO fire elf and water halfling are both great choices for wizards, better than most of the PHB races, except maybe human. There's also the domain wizard in there, which is a strict upgrade to the regular wizard.

Mal
Almost the whole book is OGL content, so you can read it free on the internet…wait, hang on, @Kate you're typing in the group chat from inside the extradimensional space in my backpack?

Kate
Yeah.

Mal
Which must mean you have a wifi signal in there?? Across a dimensional barrier???

Kate
Apparently! Don't ask me how, it's your spell.

Mal
😵

Grace
Sorry, your backpack is a dimensional portal? @Mal 😮

Kate
Yup!

Mal
Sort of!

Kate
It's currently a temporary portal to a slightly larger and comfier backpack.

Mal
👆

Hannah
It's bigger on the inside!

Grace
Cool, cool. Uh…anyway…

Grace
Are fire elves and water halflings good for warlocks too?

Hannah
Water halflings are great. Fire elf is not as good for a warlock as it is for a wizard though, since they have low Charisma. For a new player who's probably running with a basic warlock build, I'd recommend human, water halfling, or strongheart halfling; they're all generically good and easy to work with.

Hannah
Hengeyokai is also nice if the 3.5 update for Oriental Adventures is going to be legal. They're animal shapeshifters. The bird versions can fly, which is really nice.

Grace
What's the difference between water halfling and strongheart halfling?

Marco
The 3.5 update for OA should be fine @Hannah

Hannah
Water halflings get +2 to Constitution, +1 to saving throws, and can swim good. Strongheart halflings get a bonus feat.

Marco
Since we have new players in the group, I'm thinking we start at level 1 to help ease them in, and level up at a quick pace so that we can still make it to high levels by the end of the campaign.

Mal
I don't mind that plan.

Grace
What's a feat?

Hannah
If we're starting at level 1, then I want to be a barbarian!

Mal
A feat is a special ability or talent your character has, chosen from a long list of possible options. It's basically a way to customize your character; the feats you pick for your character will have a big impact on your strategy. @Grace

Marco
25 point buy (or elite array) for ability scores, level 1, and you can use all official books plus Dragon Magazine and material from the old official website. No campaign-level variant rules, but variants for specific races or classes should be fine.

Grace
Thanks @Mal, I'll have to browse that list then. 👍

Hannah
Fair warning @Grace, it is a very, very long list spread out over dozens of different books.

Marco
I think you can all go ahead and start planning an outline for your characters, and we'll finalize them on Thursday.

Grace
Is there an abridged version I could look at? @Hannah

Mal
What's the setting going to be like? @Marco

Marco
Eclectic!

Marco
My plan is you're going to be a band of interplanar treasure hunters. So your backstory can be from any setting!

Hannah
Okay, in that case, I'm definitely going to be either a barbarian or a fighter, or probably a multiclass of both, and maybe a prestige class later if I'm feeling frisky.

Hannah
@Grace This should help: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1ZqsXKR9O0Ou9-q8o0iR16geBwgw1wJSi6uMMQ5LUQH8/edit?usp=drivesdk

Grace
Thanks! @Hannah

Mal
So if you're a warrior, Kate's a wizard, and Grace is a warlock, that means we could still use a skill-user or a divine caster. So I'll be the party rogue.

Mal
Maybe a spellthief—spellthieves combo well with warlocks.

Kate
Why's that?

Mal
A spellthief can copy a warlock's invocations to double up on them! So if her patron gives her access to magical wings, for example, I can "steal" a use of that magic to gain the ability to fly, then she can just continue flying because warlock invocations have unlimited uses.

Kate
Ooh, synergy.

Mal
I could steal spells from your wizard too, but you'll have a limited allocation of spell slots that would be depleted, so it's less advantageous.

Hannah
Kate, you should be a domain wizard. That's the best kind of wizard IMO.

Mal
I wish I had a domain in real life. 😞

Kate
Explain this please @Hannah @Mal

Hannah
It's like a regular wizard, except you get a bonus "domain" spell each time you gain access to a new level of spells, and the domain spells are all thematically connected.

Mal
Yeah, it's just free extra spells. All you give up is the ability to specialize in a school of magic. But if you were already planning to be a generalist wizard, it's a strict upgrade. Here's the link: https://www.d20srd.org/srd/variant/classes/variantCharacterClasses.htm#wizardVariantDomainWizard

Mal
Specialists do also have access to some nice perks that aren't available to generalists. They just have to give some stuff up in order to get it. Domain wizards are all upside.

Grace
I think I'll just have my character be a human. Play what you know, right?

Hannah
👍

Kate
Right now I'm leaning towards human too, if only because the other ones on my list are all some flavor of short. I spend enough time being tiny IRL; I don't need it from my fantasy avatar on top of that!

Kate
I'll have to give fire elves a look though. I'm pretty sure elves are tall.

Mal
Here's the link for that too. https://www.d20srd.org/srd/variant/races/elementalRacialVariants.htm#racesOfFire

Kate
Oh, that is just very clearly and obviously better than the standard elf if you're a wizard, isn't it?

Grace
I'm just impressed by how you remember all these things. There are so many books!

Hannah
One of the fun things about being D&D wizards is that we've become very familiar with the D&D rules.

Mal
Studying these books is like the equivalent of a part-time job for us. Actually getting to play for once is a rare treat!

Marco
And I like telling stories and/or being the center of attention, so DMing is a treat for me, too!

Marco
Plus, if you think about it, it's sort of like being on a date with four cute nerd girls at the same time. 💐

Grace
Easy there, tiger. Don't forget I can still shoot laser beams out of my hands @Marco

Kate
😂

Marco
Very well, at the lady's request, I rescind my previous statement.

Chapter Text

I popped my head out of the bag and poked Mal's leg. "Hi," I said.

She looked down at me. "Hi," she whispered back.

"I think I need a bathroom break," I said. "Help me out?"

She nodded, then stood up, hoisting the bag over her shoulder with me in it. It was still Tutorial—the study period in between 2nd and 4th period on Tuesdays and Thursdays—so I guess she could get up and step outside whenever she wanted. I climbed up onto her left shoulder as she walked down the hallway. "I actually needed a bathroom break too, so it's good timing," she said quietly. "How do you want to do this?"

"It's no big deal. We can take two different stalls."

"Sure, but I mean, if we do, how will you work the lock on the stall door? Do you need to transform? Are we casting Helpful Hand? Do we just hope no one interrupts?"

"Right. The locks." Of course. At home, I didn't need to worry about locking the door; Mal automatically knew where I was and respected my privacy, and Thomas always used the second bathroom adjoining the master bedroom. But in a public restroom, if I left the door unlocked because I lacked the opposable thumbs to close and lock it, anyone might walk in.

Ah, my old nemesis: doors.

There were several possible ways to handle it. I could just shrug and accept the possibility of being walked in on. Not an ideal solution for the long term. I could transform into a human for the duration, just to work the door, but unless the bathroom was entirely empty aside from us, the light show from my transformation sequence would give off conspicuous flashes of purple to any potential observers. I could ask Mal to lock me in a stall, but then what? The doors lock from the inside. Was she supposed to just awkwardly wait in there with me until I was ready for her to unlock the door again? She would probably pass out from blushing too hard.

A Helpful Hand would let me work the door, but the hand from it wouldn't be invisible. Anyone looking at me would notice the giant animated glove hovering next to me. And casting the spell only to dismiss it early a minute later would be a waste of a daily spell slot. Unseen Servant would at least be invisible, but casting it now would mean not having it available later to do Mal's household chores.

"We can't just lock the whole bathroom from the inside, can we?" I asked.

"Not without a key."

"Uh-huh, okay, gotcha. And an elaborate heist to steal a key is out of the question?"

She shot me an amused glance.

I sighed. "Fine, fine, you know I'm only kidding. I'll just transform."

Mal pushed open the bathroom door. I sniffed to check if anyone was already there, and I immediately regretted it. I didn't smell anyone else in the room besides us, but it was still a bathroom. Not the ideal place to be taking deep breaths with a super nose. "I think we're clear," I said, hopping down to the floor. "Lean on the door while I do my quick-change?"

She nodded and put her weight against the door—which wasn't a lot of weight, but if anyone was about to catch me purple-handed in the act of transforming, it would hopefully slow them down a little. "Go ahead when you're ready, Katie."

I spoke the words and let the light wash over me, feeling it lift me off the ground as it reshaped my body. And then I was human again. "This feels a little more like shenanigans than it probably ought to," I said. I bounced on my toes a couple times to get my balance, and then we both stepped into adjacent stalls.

"Honestly, now that I think about it, I bet you could handle these stall doors as a cat if you really wanted," Mal replied thoughtfully. "The bolt locks here don't look like they'd need a lot of manual dexterity. I bet jumping up and swiping it with your paw would work."

"Good point. Maybe we try that next time." Shenanigans can be fun, but there's a time and place, y'know? I don't need to waste my best hijinks-ing on something as mundane as The Great Unoccupied Public Restroom Caper.

Except that right as I was finishing up, I heard the sound of someone else walking in. So much for unoccupied. I gritted my teeth. Perfect. I could either wait responsibly for this other girl to leave (and run down my timer in the process), or transform back in the stall and hope she wouldn't notice the light show. Or come up with a third plan.

Eh. Fuck it. I whispered the phrase to start up my transformation sequence, and as the violet glow swallowed me, I thought I heard a "What the…" from a voice outside the stall. Damn. She noticed.

Well, it was probably fine.

I popped back to reality in cat form, jumped experimentally, and found that yeah, it was actually pretty easy to work the bolt lock with a jump and swipe, so the whole caper was pointless. Hurray! Adroitly, I slipped under the wall into Mal's stall, where she too had finished up and was waiting for me with a sense of alarm. "That was risky," she hissed.

"It's probably fine," I said.

Outside the stalls, the other girl was standing at the sink, looking confused. It was Caitlyn with a C, from art class. "Hey, did you see that weird purple light a second ago?" she asked.

"...Noooo?" said Mal, nervously.

"...You didn't see the incredibly conspicuous flashing purple glow just a second ago."

"Oh, uh…yeah, I guess so. I mean, uh, you said weird purple light, but all I saw was, you know, a more normal, ordinary, everyday purple light?" Mal stammered.

"It looked like it was coming from that stall." Caitlyn moved curiously towards the stall I was just in and peeked inside. It was empty now, of course.

"Maybe it was, like, space aliens?" Mal offered as she nonchalantly bent to wash her hands.

Caitlyn scoffed. "I don't believe in space aliens."

Mal shrugged, trying to project a sense of apathy. "Yeah, me neither. Probably just nothing."

"Well it had to be something, right? Do you think it was a senior prank?" Caitlyn sighed and dried off her hands on a paper towel. "Eh. I guess it's probably not anything nefarious, so I shouldn't stress about it. Hey, I'll see you tomorrow in Art, okay? And you too, Little Katelyn, ya little cutie!" She gave me a pat on the head.

"Okay! Bye Caitlyn!"

She walked out. As she left, I scanned her for magic just in case. Scan reading came back negative. There were some faint traces in the air where I had transformed, but they were already fading.

I let Mal sanitize me before hopping back onto her shoulder. "That was a little reckless," she whispered.

"Yeah, fair," I whispered back. "Let's go ahead and not do that again."

Chapter Text

Fourth period passed without incident, and it turned out one of the nice things about having a free sixth period was that Mal could just up and leave early after fourth period on Tuesdays and Thursdays if she wanted. In fact, this was what she often did. Her parents gave her enough pocket money so she had the option to eat lunch at one of the nearby local restaurants instead of the school cafeteria. "Do you want to split a burrito at the Mexican place up the street?" she asked me. Of course I said yes.

I transformed into a human again before we set off. It was only a short walk from the campus into the heart of downtown Sebastopol, CA. The downtown area here was tiny compared to the cities I'd lived in before, primarily consisting of a Main Street several blocks long, lined with small local shops and restaurants, with only a couple of major cross streets branching off it.

As we strolled down the sidewalk with our hands instinctively intertwined, the magical bracelet on my left wrist thrummed with quiet power, picking up my kinetic energy and feeding it to the transmutation that kept me on two legs. I was pretty sure I could feel it at work; I couldn't help but wonder just how long it would let me sustain this form.

Probably not a great idea to push the limits in public, though. Turning back into a cat in an explosion of light like a reverse Beauty and the Beast in the middle of a crowded restaurant? Maybe not ideal!

"Timer is set to track your transformation," Mal said, swiping at her phone with her free hand. "And food has been ordered. It should be ready by the time we get there."

"Chicken burrito?"

"Naturally."

"Excellent," I said. Then a thought occurred to me, and I furrowed my brow. "You know, I really don't understand how food works with polymorph effects."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like…where does it go? What happens to it?" I gestured with my left hand. "When I, as a cat, eat cat food, then transform into a human, is the cat food now in my human stomach? Or does it disappear along with my fur and my tail, and then reappear inside me when I turn back into a cat?"

"Oh." Mal thought for a moment. "So, I'm pretty sure the way the spell handles worn items would also apply to swallowed items? If you swallow something in one form that's not compatible with the other form for some reason, it should automatically transform with you—thus preventing any unfortunate mishaps, hopefully."

"Mishaps?"

"Like, imagine eating normal-sized food and then turning into a bug."

I imagined it. "Oh."

"Exactly. In that scenario, the food would just meld into the new form, and nothing bad would happen!" She paused. "I mean, I guess you'd be a bug. Maybe that qualifies as bad in itself."

"The Greek gods used it as a punishment, so there's precedent," I said. "Athena did it to Arachne just to spite 'er."

Mal steadfastly stared straight ahead and tried not to laugh as I wiggled my eyebrows at her.

"Aaanyway," she continued, "if your food is safe for both forms, it should just stay as it is, unless it's digested enough to count as part of your body, which…I'm sure that line is drawn somewhere, and I couldn't tell you where. Oh look, here we are, this is the place!"

The restaurant was modest in size, colorfully decorated, and bustling with activity. We'd clearly arrived during the lunchtime rush. Luckily, since we ordered ahead, our food was already waiting for us: a big, beautiful, Mission-style burrito, with fresh tortilla chips and salsa roja on the side.

I started to salivate a little bit. "Oh, that's gorgeous. Can we eat it here? Is there a table available?"

"Sure! Follow me," said our server, a dark-haired boy about the same age as me.

"Thank you!" said Mal.

He led us to a small table in the back, where two chairs sat across from one another. I dragged one of them next to the other while Mal doffed her backpack, and we sat down side by side. "Can I get you anything else? Something to drink?" he asked.

"Just water is fine, I think," I said. "Thank you very much!"

"No problem. I'll be right back with your water. Enjoy the food!"

"Thanks!" Mal picked up a knife and cut the burrito in half. She picked up one half and started chomping on it. Meanwhile, I poured some salsa over my half, then started eating it with a fork. It was delicious.

"Mmf, oh yeah, that's so much better than cat food," I said. Noticing my wizard's apologetic look, I added, "Um. Not that there's anything wrong with cat food, I mean, if you're a cat. Different, uh, different taste buds…"

Amusement displaced guilt on her face. "Ah, I see you also enjoy the taste of your foot in your mouth," she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, uh…look…"

Mal set down her burrito, rested her chin on one hand, and smiled. "Don't worry, you don't need to pretend it's a competition. I'm pretty sure no change to your taste buds is going to make anything that comes out of a can hold up against a restaurant-quality meal. Even if it's the 'fancy' brand of cat food." She picked up a chip, dipping it in salsa. "Now, tell me it holds up against the cheap pizza from the school cafeteria, and then I might believe you."

I laughed. "Okay, yeah, that's a much closer comparison. Canned food is still canned food, in the end."

That was when a chorus of frantic chiptunes erupted out of her pocket—her ringtone.

"Oop, hang on," she said, picking it up. "Mal's phone, this is Mal speaking…yeah…oh! Yeah, sure, I can put her on." She handed me the phone. "It's your mom."

Chapter Text

I lifted the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

My mom's voice answered. "Kate! Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me, hi!

"It's Mom! Corey said this number was the best way to reach you. Where are you?"

"Hi, Mom!" I said. "We're at a restaurant for lunch right now. Sorry if there's background noise."

"Oh, we've been so worried about you! You're in an accident, you drop out of school, you get a mysterious new job, all in the same weekend? And all we get is one voicemail and a secondhand story from your brother?"

"Well, I also sent you an email," I said, weakly.

"Kitty-Cat, you know you can talk to us, right? We're your parents, and we'll love and support you no matter what."

(Yes, my mom calls me that. She has since I was little. Yes, I'm aware of the irony.)

"I know, Mom. I love you too, and I miss you." As the words escaped my mouth, I realized they were true. I missed my family. I hadn't been home in months. "I'll, uh…maybe I'll come visit for Thanksgiving…?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful! We'd love to see you, you know, it's been such a long time!"

"Yeah, uh…I'll have to, um, talk to my new boss and find out how many days off I can get…" I bit my lip and shot Mal a pleading look.

Mal's mouth was currently full of burrito. She froze for a beat, looked confused, pointed at herself, and said, "Hrmmf mmf?" Translation: Is that me? Am I the boss? I cringed a little and gave her a half-shrug, half-nod in reply, as if to say, Yeah, in this scenario, sort of.

"If your boss won't give you the weekend off for Thanksgiving, give me their number and I will personally yell at them," said my mom. "And I still don't understand what this incredible, high-paying job is that pulled you out of college! You're not doing anything…unsavory, are you?"

"Mom, no! It's not unsavory."

"Not that anything would be inherently wrong with that, of course, if…if you're being safe, I mean, your father and I will love you no matter what, and you're an adult and we respect your choices…"

"I'm an executive assistant, Mom. At…" I gritted my teeth and facepalmed, remembering the cover story that Corey had signed me up for. "At a swanky, upscale hotel. I just do, you know, basic secretary work, and I get decent wages because I know my way around the ledgers and I'm friends with the boss's daughter. It's an office job. Really."

"Are you sure?"

At this point, Mal was watching my phone call with a mix of fascination and horror, like it was a train crashing in slow motion.

"Yes, I promise, I'm sure."

"Because it's just that Corey said you're earning six figures, and I've never heard of an executive assistant with a salary like that, so I was afraid that maybe…"

"He may have…exaggerated…somewhat. The money is, uh, it's fine, but it's mostly about the benefits package. Uh, I get free meals and lodging, and really good health insurance, and I should still be able to finish my education through online classes, so…yeah…" 

The deception felt acrid on my tongue, even though I knew it was kinder than a truth she wouldn't believe. I was getting free meals and lodging, and I had access to a live-in veterinarian on call, but ultimately, a truth told with deceptive intent is just another kind of lie. Sooner or later, I would need to be honest.

This was one part of my life where I was steadfastly resolved not to partake in any sitcom hijinks whatsoever. If they figured out I was lying, I would give up and tell the truth. I would not cover it up with a series of even more elaborate lies that would inevitably snowball out of control. I would not create a fake hotel website to fool my parents, or ask one of Mal's friends to put on a fake mustache and pretend to be a bellhop, or invent a fake convention to explain why there are no vacancies at the fake hotel, or steal a real uniform from an actual hotel and trick the lobby staff into leaving long enough for me to pretend the real hotel was the fake hotel, or bribe the lobby staff at the real hotel into going along with my farce and pretending I was employed there, or…look, the exact details of the hijinks I definitely would not do weren't important. What was important was that no hijinks would ensue.

"So you haven't dropped out of school?" Mom asked.

"...What exactly were Corey's words?"

"I believe he said you were on pause ."

"Yes, that definitely sounds like the way he would say it." On paws. Well, the pause/paws homophone was pretty cliché, but at least this time the cat pun had a proper double meaning, which was more than I could say about feline okay or cat-ch you later. Mid-tier pun, 6/10, could be worse. "Just to be 100% clear, I'm dropping out of the current semester, and I'm coming back for next semester. I'm not suspending my education indefinitely."

"Oh, that's such a relief to hear! I'd hate to see you give up on your CPA when you've had your heart set on it for so long. I still remember how excited you were to get that ten-key for your 11th birthday…"

"Yes, I remember too, Mom." I was a weird kid.

"Well, as much as I would like to browbeat you for more details about your personal life, I suppose I shouldn't intrude too long on you and your friend during your lunch break."

I wasn't sure how to respond. "Um. Well then. I guess…I'll talk to you later?"

"I love you, Kitty-Cat!"

"I love you too, Mom. Bye."

"Bye!"

Click.

Mal looked at me, still a little stunned. "Did you just ask me for Thanksgiving off…from being my familiar?"

I covered my mouth. "Oh, fuck, I'm sorry! I didn't mean for it to sound like that! No! I wanted to know about your days off, so I could bring you with me! If that's okay."

"No, no, it's fine, I just wasn't sure if I was following the metaphor, um, I'd love to have Thanksgiving with your family, if they'll have me. And I do get time off of school that week, so it should be, uh…" She trailed off, like she'd just processed something important. "Sorry…does your mom call you Kitty-Cat?"

"Yes. Yes, she does."

"Wow. I'm not sure whether that's entirely coincidental, or if it acted as a sympathetic resonating variable with potential causal relevance." Or, in other words, being known to at least one person by an affectionate cat-related nickname might have helped Mal's calling spell to find me instead of a regular cat…or not. Who knows?

I shrugged. "Probably just a coincidence! But I respect the technobabble. I do like a good technobabble."

She blushed. "Thanks."

Chapter Text

It wasn't long before I was back in cat form and the two of us were climbing into the shotgun seat of Hannah's car, which was a real clunker of a Ford. It was so old that it had manual windows and a built-in cassette tape player—although I had to give her credit for keeping it clean, because in spite of its age, it looked and smelled pristine. She must have been washing the windows and vacuuming the upholstery on, like, a daily basis.

Wait, no, she was a wizard. Of course it was clean. She had Prestidigitation. It probably took her six seconds to clean the whole vehicle with a wave of her hand. How is that spell only a cantrip? It's totally overpowered.

The two of them cheerfully exchanged small talk until the crunch of a gravel driveway signaled our arrival back home. As the engine quieted, my ears perked up at the sound of a new voice inside the house. Right! Thomas mentioned that Mal's mom was coming home from her business trip today.

I nudged Mal. "Sounds like your mom's home."

"Ooh! She'll be dying to meet you! Let's say hi to my mom!" She scooped me up onto her shoulder, picked up her backpack, and slid out the passenger side. Then she skipped up the front steps to ring the doorbell, with Hannah following at her heels.

A middle-aged woman in a professional-looking grey suit answered. She was about Mal's height, with short, blonde hair, and there was an obvious family resemblance between the two of them. When she saw us, she lit up with delight. "Mal! Oh, it's great to see you!"

"Mom!" Mal was equally delighted, and pulled her mom into a hug. "I missed you! Did you have a good trip?"

"I'm just going to squeeze past you and use your bathroom real quick," said Hannah, tactfully slipping through the doorway past the mother-daughter embrace.

"Hello, Hannah! Yes, I had a productive trip. The folks at the Texas HQ responded very positively to my presentation." Her voice carried an English accent, but with traces of American around the edges, as if her native accent had decayed after spending too much time in the States. (That was my read of it, at least. I am admittedly not an expert on accents.)

She pulled back from the hug to look me in the eyes. "And you must be Katelyn!"

I nodded respectfully. "Meow!" I said.

"Mom, this is Katelyn Winters, my new familiar. Kate, this is my mother, Thistle Avalon!"

Thistle smiled. "It's wonderful to meet you, Katelyn. I heard about the mix-up, and I must say I'm very grateful to you for not pursuing legal action against us."

"Nice to meet you too! I'm always happy to settle out of court. Saves on legal fees." I assumed she was joking, since I had to imagine any lawsuit would be immediately dismissed by the judge on the grounds of magic isn't real and you're all insane.

"She says it's nice to meet you too, and she's always happy to settle out of court to save on legal fees," Mal translated.

Thistle chuckled and stepped back to let us inside. "I'm sure my husband already said so, but I hope you know that as long as you're with us, Katelyn, you're family. Whatever accommodations you need, just let us know."

I nodded.

"Can I get whatever accommodations I need?" Mal chimed in. "Because I could really use more gel pens for scribing spells."

"That's…not really what I meant," said Thistle. "Didn't you just get a new set last week?"

"Yes, but you know how fast I go through them! I'm already almost out of purple."

"Actually, now that you mention it, I could use a set of gel pens too. The nice brand," I added.

Mal gestured toward me. "See, Kate says she needs new gel pens too! That's an accommodation!"

Thistle raised an eyebrow. "Is that actually what she said?"

"She also said to get the nice brand," Mal said. I nodded.

"Less than five minutes of parenting two kids at once and they're already teaming up on me! Very well, if you're united on this issue, then you may order another set."

Mal and I shared a fist bump.

Chapter Text

Most of the rest of the afternoon was spent in Mal's bedroom, trading spells. She and Hannah took turns with each other's spellbooks. During Mal's turns, I lent her my concentration to lighten her load, and during Hannah's turns, I watched with fascination, drinking in the subtle differences in the two wizards' methodology.

Mal worked with quiet, meticulous precision. Every stroke of her pen was careful and deliberate, and her focus never wavered. Hannah was focused too, but not in the same way. She was copying the spell as it appeared in Grandma Alice's old book—the original, unmodified familiar spell that we all agreed was almost definitely not going to call a human by mistake—and as she wrote, she seemed to enter into a sort of trance state. Where Mal's focus was intense, Hannah's was…I suppose I'd describe it as serene. Her eyes were unfocused, and she held her pen gently, allowing it to glide across the page with the flowing grace of a figure skater.

"What sort of familiar are you going to summon, d'you think?" I asked, once it was time for a break. I was lying on the desk, my tail twitching absentmindedly, with Hannah in the chair in front of me and Mal sitting on the edge of her bed.

"I haven't decided!" said Hannah (after Mal relayed my question). "I do like that corvids can speak, so a crow is really tempting. But cats are so cute!" She scratched my head fondly. I purred in agreement. Cats are cute. "But then again, lizards are really cute too. And spiders, and rats, and ferrets…"

Mal was mildly indignant on my behalf. "Hold on, surely you can't be putting lizards and spiders at the same cuteness ranking as Katie here!"

Hannah shrugged, leaned back, and twirled a finger through her ponytail. "Little tiny animals are cute."

"It's not a contest, but also, if my closest rival is a lizard, I'm definitely winning. Maybe the ferret can compete. Maybe. And don't call her Shirley," I added.

"What would you pick, Kate?" Mal asked.

"Well, for my D&D character, I'm thinking probably a bat, because I like that they have echolocation. That seems like a cool and useful ability. But I'm also strongly considering a toad for the bonus HP, just so I don't drop after one hit."

"So, a bat for the echolocation, or a toad for the HP? Yeah, those are pretty solid choices, mechanically speaking."

"Ooh, I do like toads," Hannah said. "...They're cute."

That drew a laugh out of all three of us.

"So, basically, your philosophy is that any animal is cute so long as it's small enough?"

"Right! Cuteness is inversely proportional to size. A giant spider is scary, but a little teeny spider is cute. And since the Reduce Person spell halves your size, it also doubles your cuteness. QED!"

Mal looked thoughtful. "That's…logical, I guess."

"I'm skeptical," I said. "I don't think I could accept your premises without firsthand proof of someone shrinking and becoming cuter as a result."

"What did she say?" Hannah asked.

"She wants you to cast the spell so that she can see for herself how it works. Um, she phrased it differently, but I think that's the gist?"

I nodded.

"Aw heck, why not? I have one prepared in here somewhere…" She started rummaging in her bag. "Aha! Here it is! Watch and be amazed"

Hannah held up a small Play-Doh sculpture of a little bug. She began to chant in Hebrew, and as she spoke, she stood up, and the sculpture began to pulse with yellow and purple light. Then her eyes started to glow, and the loose parts of her hair slowly floated upwards as if she were underwater. After maybe 45 seconds of chanting, her feet actually lifted off the ground until she was levitating a couple inches in midair. The smell of ozone crackled in the air around her. Then all of a sudden, she shifted several times, getting successively smaller as if she were a digital image and she'd just tapped the "Zoom out" button on herself. And then the special effects stopped—the glowing lights vanished, the Play-Doh bug melted, her hair settled down, and she floated back to the ground.

She was maybe two and a half feet tall.

It was all very cinematic! I sat on my haunches and applauded.

"Thank you, thank you," she said, taking a bow. The pitch of her voice was the same, but the timbre had changed subtly: a smidge more treble, a smidge less bass, giving the sound a slightly tinny quality—like what you get when you play music on tiny speakers.

Mal nodded in quiet appreciation. "I will never get tired of the light shows."

"I haven't actually shown this spell to anyone else yet! Hey, both of you, come on over, I wanna compare heights!"

Obediently, I hopped down from the desk to the floor, landing right next to her. "GAH! Holy fuck, you're big!" she said, nearly falling over backwards. I meowed apologetically. Relative to her, I was now about the size of a mountain lion, and I suppose I had sorta-kinda-technically just, uh, pounced, so in hindsight, yeah, that was clearly going to startle her.

"Well, I have to admit, that does seem like evidence in support of your cute/scary sliding scale," Mal said, trying not to giggle.

Hannah let out a giggle of her own. "Dear Lord, I thought I was going to soil myself for a second there. Oh, I really got got! I should've been expecting that!" She looked up at Mal, who was now looming over her. "And damn, look at you! I don't think I even come up to your waist! Haha, whee!"

Mal sat back down on the floor, legs crossed. She was as tall sitting down as Hannah was standing up. Maybe slightly taller, actually. "Lucky she wasn't in tiger form, or you might have had a heart attack!"

"Ha! I totally would have!" She stroked my back. (She barely had to lean down. For her, it must have been like petting a large dog.) "Man, you're really this small all the time, huh, Kate? Smaller, even! That's so wild."

I nodded. "Yup. Are you enjoying the experience?"

"She's asking if you're enjoying the experience," Mal repeated.

"Absolutely. Look, you gotta know this about me…" She sat down. "I thrive on unique experiences. I love trying things just to try them. I love exploring, and making mistakes, and trying again. And if I fall into a rut, I start to wilt like a fading flower.

"But you know what's great about being small?" Hannah gestured grandly at all of our surroundings. "Being small makes everything new! When you're a different size, it can recontextualize even the most mundane, everyday activity into an adventure! A mountain to be climbed, a river to be forded!

"I'm still not out to my family as a wizard, so I can't always practice my spells at home. This is the first time I've cast this spell around other people. And you know what? It's cool. It's different. I like it. I think I might need to learn Enlarge Person too, just so I have the set."

I grinned. "I bet you're excited for when you can learn some polymorph spells, huh?"

"Heck yeah I am," she answered, after Mal translated. "Actually, I've been trying to research what sort of shapeshifting effects might be possible at my current level, and it's very tough to get any decent duration on anything. You know it took me like two weeks to figure out how to get this shrink spell to last more than a minute? That's why it takes so long to cast my version. And I've been poking at another spell to turn into a horse, but I can't get it to work longer than, like, 10 seconds, which is like, not even enough time to run a lap, so, I mean, what even is the point of it, then? So yeah, I really gotta get to 2nd level spells."

"It's weird because if you want to summon a horse, you can get multiple hours of uptime easily," Mal said. "But for some reason, if you want to turn into one, all of a sudden it's like, nope, can't do it, shoulda been a druid."

"Do you have the horse summoning spell?" Hannah asked.

Mal shook her head. "Nah. I was never much of a horse girl. Fell off a pony once when I was seven. Broke my arm. Haven't worked up the nerve to try horseback riding again since. Anyway, I prefer cats."

"Horseback riding was never my thing either," I said. "Too outdoorsy. And kinda smelly. I have gotten into wizard-back riding lately, though!"

I climbed on top of Mal's head, tousling her hair in the process. She laughed and brushed a few strands out of her face.

"Wow…even when you're twice my size, you two are so cute together!" said Hannah, whose cell phone camera was now pointing at us. "The people on Tumblr need to see this."

"Oh no, Kate! We're being exploited for content! Quick, we need to draw up a contract to license out the use of our likenesses so that we can be fairly compensated!"

"Pathetic fools, your contracts are powerless, for the copyright to a photograph belongs to the photographer, not the subject! This reproduction of your likenesses belongs to me now! Mwahaha!"

"Wait, isn't California, like, a two-party consent state?" I pointed out.

"Of course, Katie! You're a genius! California is a two-party consent state! That means you can't film us without permission!" Mal pointed exaggeratedly at Hannah. "Avaunt and desist, villain!"

"Oh, wait, really?" Hannah swiped her phone a couple of times. "Hmm, you're right, it says here that it could be punishable by a fine of up to $2,500 or up to a year in prison…CURSES! Foiled again!" She swiped some more. "Actually, it looks like that might only be limited to certain types of recordings, and there's some other complicated clauses in this law that I don't know if I fully understand."

"We demand royalties of one cookie for every one thousand notes!" said Mal.

"Oh no, I've been legally outmaneuvered! I have no choice but to accept your terms!" Hannah shook her fist. "But I'll get you next time! You haven't seen the last of me! Muhahaha!"

Chapter Text

With my permission, Hannah tried to climb my cat tree while she was still half-sized, but it felt a little unsteady beneath her, so she abandoned the attempt. Instead, we spent the rest of our break on the back porch, chatting about magic, sharing personal stories, and snacking on some cantaloupe from the fridge. Apparently cats are allowed to eat melons.

Then it was time for the next session of scribing, and then after that, it was starting to get late, and Hannah bid us goodbye until school tomorrow.

Thomas cooked spaghetti marinara for dinner—or, for me, cat food magically altered to taste like spaghetti marinara. Apparently cats are not allowed to eat tomatoes, but Mal did a good job duplicating the flavor with magic, so it was fine. Thistle placed my bowl on the table instead of on the floor, insisting that I eat with the rest of the family: "Your dignity is worth more to us than a few pawprints on the table," she said, which, honestly, I hadn't even thought about it before, but yeah, she had a point.

After dinner, Mal summoned an Unseen Servant, and the dishes appeared to start washing themselves one by one. Once the dishes were done, the invisible force cleaned up the rest of the kitchen, folded a load of laundry, and vacuumed the carpet. It only needed minor supervision, so while it worked, we sat on the couch together and she spent some time teaching me about basic principles of wizardry.

As cool as it was riding shotgun for Mal's spellcasting, it would have been pointless to pretend I wasn't champing at the bit to have a spellbook of my own and sit in the driver's seat. Luckily for both of us, she was overjoyed to have a student—especially a student like me who so eagerly drank in each word. Unluckily, there was still one large, looming obstacle that seemed to stand in my way, and it was the same obstacle that had plagued me this whole time: my decidedly non-humanoid shape. 

Impaired manual dexterity makes everything harder. Even when accommodations are available, there are still points of friction to frustrate you. Bigby's Helpful Hand was great for really basic manipulation, and I loved the control that it gave back to me, but for precise, detailed spell diagrams, it was too clumsy. And I was getting a lot better at using a touchscreen with my paws, but spellbooks are analogue. I needed my own hands, and I didn't have them—or rather, I couldn't maintain them for long enough to scribe a spell.

Maybe it was possible to develop a method I could use in cat form. Something that wouldn't require using a pen. But without a pen, I'd have to essentially create my own shorthand from the ground up, because most of the techniques I was learning from Mal wouldn't apply. If I could just solve that damn "fingers" issue, I would be able to use her methods as my starting point, and I'd have a huge leg-up.

Well, if this wearable persistent thaumatic storage device had enough capacity, it might be possible to save up charge over time and use it to stay human long enough? In theory, if I spent enough time banking energy without expending it…I mean, it would slow me down, but it was something, right? Maybe I was worrying over nothing. Maybe I already had the solution.

Anyway, if it turned out that I really couldn't work this out, you never know, maybe a Manual would drop on my head one day and let me sign onto Sophia's brand of magic.

In the meantime, I listened enraptured as Mal taught me the fundamentals of wizardry, and I allowed myself to imagine that I might one day command them.

Chapter Text

That night, I dreamed of power, at first.

In the dream, I was human, and I had climbed to the top of a rocky mountain peak, where the pointed hat of Boccob waited for me. And then it was on my head, and trails of magic sparkled across my fingers as I conducted the night sky like a symphony. I knew I would have to give it back to the God of Magic, but I wanted to keep it for myself, because I knew that giving it up would also mean giving up something else, something important. Mal was with me, and she controlled her own section of the heavens, swirling and pulsing in harmony with mine, each of us unique, but perfectly, beautifully in tune. And then the two of us were pleading at Mystra's court, but in spite of our arguments, I knew that my power was only stolen, never mine, and I let my tail sink to the ground in shame. The gavel fell and Boccob took his glasses back, and then I was blind, blind forever, and I cried in Mal's arms. And then Grace was there, diving into the swimming pool, calling for Mal to jump in too, and we swam through the water until we caught up with her in a cave of glittering coral. Mal was my size now, and as we swam closer, Grace dwarfed us both, like a whale among trout, with the rainbow-scaled tail of a mermaid. She had discovered a new game, and we raced through the water, tagging the glowing sections of seaweed to earn points. We were close to a high score, but we couldn't stay, because I had to leave, and then I looked at Mal from the other side of Heather's front yard as we were pulled apart, and it hurt, oh, how it hurt. And then mortar shells rained down from the sky, and…

And then, in unison, we woke up, back in bed.

Tattered pieces of the dream still clung to my mind, carrying with them fading echoes of grief and anxiety. We snuggled closer together, letting the comforting sensation of our bond chase away the darkness.

"Who's Mystra?" I whispered.

"She's the Goddess of Magic in the Forgotten Realms," she whispered back.

"Oh. Who's Heather?"

"Just…just an old friend. We were really close, back when I was a kid." The unspoken but not anymore hung heavy in the air.

"What happened?" I asked quietly.

"...I don't know. I don't know. I…I thought we'd be friends forever. But…we weren't." She hugged me a little tighter. "She left me behind."

"I'm sorry," I said, nestling in as close to her as I could, her pajamas soft against my fur as I took shelter in her heartbeat.

"It was a long time ago." She sighed. "Sorry for getting my anxiety dreams all over your anxiety dreams."

"Ditto…but I guess on balance, a shared dream isn't all that much weirder than a normal dream, is it?"

"I guess," she replied. She suddenly seemed embarrassed. "Look, uh…assuming this tandem dreaming thing keeps up, uh…I mean, eventually, one of us is bound to…um, have a dream that's…you know…awkward…"

I blinked. "What do you mean? More than usual?"

She blushed all the way down to her neck. "Like…you know. Um."

"Oh." It hit me. "Oh."

"Yeah."

Cats don't blush like humans do, but if we could, I would have been turning red right along with Mal. "Let's, uh…um. Okay, so…by the time we run into that particular issue, we're either going to have to be really good at controlling our dreams, or really bad at remembering them."

"I don't know any spells for controlling or manipulating dreams…that's high-level stuff. Maybe I might be able to set us up to wake early if a dream starts going…uh…in that…direction…"

"What if we just, uh, if we just agreed that sexy and/or naked dreams are, like…a thing, that isn't under either of our control, and so it can't be held against anyone because it's just random and doesn't mean anything? That's…I mean, that's the mature way, right?"

"Right. Okay. We're totally mature. No problem!" Mal felt like she was trying to convince herself to believe it. "Puritanical culture in America is bullshit anyway! Right? And details are fuzzy in dreams, so it's not as if we're seeing everything…"

"Right. And here: I hereby solemnly promise not to judge, tease, or make fun of anything I might see in your dreams."

She seemed relieved. "Thanks, Kate. I also promise not to judge, tease, or make fun of your dreams. It's officially off-limits. Serious, mature, non-judgmental discussions only."

"Exactly."

Dawn was starting to break now, and the sun's rays were already peeking through the bedroom window. The part of me that was a cat was wide awake and ready to hunt in the dim, blushing light of the morningtide. The part of me that was a human was still a little bit bleary and grumbly, and would have preferred to go back to sleep.

I yawned. "Hey, Mal…d'you think it would be a bad idea for me to go and hunt in the dim, blushing light of the morningtide?"

She yawned too, breaking off our embrace. "Hunt what, when? Why?"

"I'unno. I had an instinct. Might be fun," I said. "Hashtag JustCatThings."

"If you want to, uh, catch mice, I guess that's…fine?" she said, rubbing her eyes with one hand and running the other through her mussy hair. "I don't think Mom and Dad would mind…Dad hates when pests get into his garden…sorry, do you mean like, right now?"

I stopped short. What was I talking about? Terrorizing and killing small animals? Just for fun? That wasn't me, was it? I shook my head. "No, never mind. It's not…I mean…never mind."

"What's wrong?" Mal picked up on my confusion, and she was looking concerned.

"I…have these urges, like, uh…like my body knows how to be a cat, without my mind needing to get involved. The cat in me wants to stalk, and lurk, and pounce. But is that what I, Katelyn, really want? How am I supposed to reconcile myself as a cat with myself as a human?"

"Okay. Real talk." Mal sat up in bed and fixed her hair with a casual flick of her hand. She gave me a serious look. "I, too, have instinctive urges. Like the urge to socialize and be part of a group, or the urge to create and build. Do I have those urges because of my personality? No. They're just part of the basic homo sapiens package. My personality determines how I react to those instincts, not whether or not I have them at all."

She pointed at me. "You, Kate, have a new set of instincts. The felis domesticus package. But you're still you! The way you react to your new instincts—that's you. If you decide you want to follow those instincts, you're not losing yourself to the cat—you're discovering something new about yourself because the cat introduced you to a new sensation."

I guess she had a point; her reasoning made a lot of sense. "Thanks for the perspective," I said quietly.

"Hey. Anytime." She smiled. "Now…correct me if I'm off-base. But I'm getting the impression that right now, you'd be very interested in one of these."

She gestured at her spell component drawer, which slid open a crack as a small object zipped out of it, arcing through the air into her waiting palm.

It was a laser pointer.

I laughed. "You know what? Yeah! Fuck it. Let's go."

Chapter Text

Hi. Hello. Excuse me. It's me, Grace. You remember me, right? We met twenty-ish chapters ago? I need to cut in here and interrupt Kate's low-stakes slice-of-life adventures. Sorry for the left turn in the narrative, and for breaking the fourth wall, but I'm having a bit of a morning, and it's been very frustrating.

I'll back up for a second. My name is Grace Berry. I'm seventeen years old, and I live in Sebastopol with my adoptive dads and my two cats. Apparently, I'm also a warlock, as I recently learned—you were there for that part, so you know that I can talk to animals and shoot laser beams out of my hands. You all saw Chapters 21–24 from Kate's perspective, but hoo boy, that was exciting for me. Y'know, when you have mysterious magical powers, and a talking cat helps you finally work up the courage to ask out the girl you've had a crush on for years, it's enough of a pleasant surprise to find out that she also liked you back the whole time, right? For me, not only did she like me back, she also had her own magical powers, and she was also somehow an expert on my magical powers and immediately demystified them! Hot damn! Am I a lucky girl, or what?

And that was only two days ago. Honestly, I'm still riding that high. Well, last night I was, at least. This morning has been…well, look, I'm getting to it. Luck balances out, I guess.

Where was I? Right! So, last night, I was up late, scouring internet wikis for information on winged serpents, Central American history and geography, and anything else I could think of that might relate to my origin story. (If you had superpowers, I bet you'd be curious about where they came from too.) I was scrolling through articles on my phone as I lay in bed and drifted to sleep. And then I had this dream.

It started as a normal dream. You know, random neurons, firing off all these weird nonsense visions. (I think I was having a roller-skating battle with a hologram of a giant onion? It might have been a shallot. Whatever. Not important to the story.) But then the dream changed.

This powerful, reptilian voice cut through whatever else was happening in the dream. "You've learned some of the truth, and now you seek more," it said. (I'm not sure describing a voice as reptilian will be meaningful to you, since you probably can't speak with reptiles, but they have very distinctive speech patterns compared to mammals and birds, trust me.)

"Yes," I answered.

And then it said: "You have the right to know, if you are ready."

By now I've snapped into full lucidity, and I'm starting to clue into what's happening. So I ask, "Who are you? Are you the one who granted me these powers?"

And then the voice says: "I am. We are bound, you and I, by the sacred pact of my kind, and you carry a piece of my essence."

And then I say: "I can hear your voice, but why can't I see you?"

And now the voice sounds weirdly apologetic, and says, "Without your having met me in person, I'm afraid a visual connection would be…difficult."

Right about then, that's when I said just about the stupidest fuckin' thing I probably ever said in my whole life. In the dream, I crossed my arms, and I said, "Well, make it happen! If you're my patron or whatever, I think I deserve to see your face, don't I?"

"Is that truly what you wish? Again, I feel I should repeat that it would be difficult."

"Yes! Show me."

Boy, I'd like to go back in time and slap myself for saying that. Because as soon as I did, I woke up.

In the middle of a fucking rainforest.

…This is the sort of place where Kate would normally put a chapter break, right?

Chapter Text

Right. So. That takes us to the present. Me, a low-level warlock, lying on my back. In a mud puddle. In a fucking rainforest.

Rain pattered through the jungle canopy above me. And it was not a dream. I was already soaking wet. The sensation was very vivid. And my favorite pajamas were probably ruined, which probably shouldn't have been one of the first things I was worried about, but dammit, I liked these pajamas. They were comfortable. Or rather, they were comfortable. Now they were covered in mud and soaking wet. At least the temperature was currently at a comfortably warm level, and not likely to induce hypothermia.

I groaned. Me and my big mouth, I thought. I propped myself up and looked around. I had landed on the bank of a muddy creek that was swollen from the rain and flowing quickly. A few more feet to the left and I might have drowned. Small blessings, I guess? A chorus of bird calls echoed through the trees (they were mostly yelling about territorial boundaries) over the constant patter of falling raindrops. The foliage was intensely green, and dense —and me without a machete. Without anything, apparently, except for the clothes on my back.

No phone. No shoes. No bra. No shelter. No food. Fuck.

So anyway, like I said, I'm having a morning.

Welp. With no supplies of any kind, no particular survival skills, and no sign of the asshole warlock patron who sent me here, I was probably going to die. And only a few hours before I was supposed to go on my first date with my crush! She was going to think I stood her up! That's some bullshit. Totally unfair.

At least I had superpowers! That was more than nothing. There were animals everywhere; maybe if I talked with them, they could give me some information that could save my life. Making friends with the birds around here might be my only hope. I closed my eyes, tried to ignore the water dripping down my back, and listened to what the closest one was saying.

He was saying, "Hey! Check it out! There's a human here! And it didn't bring any food or supplies! It must be a total moron! Hahaha!"

Ugh.

I looked up, shielding my eyes from the rain with one hand. It was a macaw with blue and yellow feathers. Another similarly-colored macaw was flying over to join him in gawking at me. "Hi!" I said to him, with all the politeness I could muster. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to land in your territory! I'm afraid I'm a little bit lost."

"Oh, wow!" he said. "She can talk! That's a talking human! Did you hear that?"

"You're right!" said the other one—a female. (I couldn't tell by looking, but I could hear it in the verb forms. A lot of bird languages are heavily gendered. I assume it's because they use their birdsong very extensively in their mating rituals, but I've never asked.) "I heard her!" she continued. "That's incredible! I've never met a talking human before! Is this a trick? Are we being pranked?"

"Not a trick," I said. "My name is Grace. Do you have names?" (Most animals don't have names for themselves in their own languages; it's more common for them to rely on pronouns and prepositions, or to identify individuals in terms of smells rather than words. Songbirds are usually an exception, though—they're all about verbal communication, especially the smarter bird species, like corvids and parrots, who are clever as hell, and can carry a conversation as well as any human. Macaws, of course, are a type of parrot, as I'm sure you were aware.)

"I'm Fweet-Fweet-Toowee, and this is my mate, Fweeoot-Feeree'eet," said the female macaw. "How did you learn how to speak? All the other humans only ever make meaningless wa-wa-wa noises." (Bird names can be hard to transliterate. Their languages are always tonal, and involve a lot of whistling, trilling, and other noises that humans have trouble pronouncing. These are the best written forms I can manage for them. Wa-wa-wa, on the other hand, was pretty much exactly how she said it.)

(Is this too many parentheticals? I feel like it's more parentheticals than Kate usually uses. And now I'm breaking the fourth wall again. I'm sorry. I swear, I don't mean to be meta. I'm not Deadpool or Gwenpool or She-Hulk or Squirrel Girl. I mean, I can talk to squirrels, so in that sense, I'm a little bit Squirrel Girl. It's just that I'm new to narration, and I'm a little bit insecure about it. It's too many parentheticals, isn't it? I'll tone them down.)

"Oh, we humans can all talk, it's just that we speak our own languages, so we normally only communicate with each other. I just happen to also know your language," I explained. (Not technically correct, but close enough. To be clear, when I talk to animals, I don't really speak their language. I speak English, and they understand it somehow. Kind of like the universal translators in Star Trek, but for animals. Aaand this was another parenthetical after I just said I'd tone them down. Sorry.)

"Wow! That's amazing!" said Fweet-Fweet-Toowee.

"We've always thought humans were fascinating creatures, even if they are mostly ugly and stupid," added Fweeoot-Feeree'eet. "But if you can speak to us, it's a revelation! You're like a bridge between our species! Actually, there are a few things we've always wondered about humans…"

"If you can help me, I'd be glad to answer your questions. Are there any other humans near here?" I asked. If there was a settlement nearby, maybe I could find help.

"Sure. Just over that mountain, there's a group of humans, all males, I think," said Fweeoot-Feeree'eet. "If you can fly as well as you talk, we could show you the way. Although I wouldn't get too close if I were you—they have guns, and they're not very friendly."

"Even to other humans," Fweet-Fweet-Toowee added. "If you're not part of their flock, I'd stay away. Our uphill neighbor Tooweeoo-Toowee said one time she saw them attacking a group of other humans who tried to approach their camp." (The macaw word for "camp" actually could be translated more literally as "human nest"—oh, sorry again.)

"Are you part of their flock, Grace?" said Fweeoot-Feeree'eet. "I've never seen them come over the mountain. Probably because it's a very tall mountain and they can't fly."

"I can't fly either," I said. "And no, I'm not part of their flock." These other humans sounded like bad news. Wikipedia said that drug runners and human traffickers were known to hide out in some of these jungles, where there was no law enforcement presence to keep them in check. If that was true, and the only humans for miles around were a band of desperate criminals and/or gangsters, it didn't bode well for the "finding help" plan.

Maybe I could intimidate them with a few laser beams. But there's only one of me and who-knows-how-many of them, and I'm a lousy shot anyway.

Okay. Fine. Cool. No big deal. New plan. My patron probably brought me here because I asked to meet face-to-face, right? So whoever they are, they must be nearby. Maybe I just arrived a little bit off-target. They wouldn't have dropped me in a mud puddle otherwise, would they?

I really hope not.

If they could send me here, they must be able to send me back. That was my only hope of getting home in time for my date.

"I think I was brought here by a magical creature," I said. "Possibly a couatl—a winged serpent with rainbow feathers. Do you know if anything like that lives near here?"

"No idea," said Fweet-Fweet-Toowee.

"Maybe Tooweeoo-Toowee knows," said Fweeoot-Feeree'eet. "You wanna ask her?"

"Sure. HEY! TOOWEEOO-TOOWEE! WE GOT A QUESTION FOR YA!" yelled Fweet-Fweet-Toowee.

"WHAT'S THE QUESTION?" came the response from out in the jungle.

"THERE'S A TALKING HUMAN OVER HERE WHO WANTS TO KNOW IF THERE ARE ANY WINGED SERPENTS IN THE AREA!"

"YEAH, THERE'S A WINGED SERPENT! HE LIVES IN A CAVE UP THE MOUNTAINSIDE! NEAR THE PEAK!"

"OKAY, THANKS!" Fweet-Fweet-Toowee turned back to me. "She says there's one living in a cave up by the top of the mountain."

"Thank you!" I said. "I'm really grateful for your help, both of you. You and your friend might have just saved my life! I hate to ask for even more from you, but could you guide me up the mountain? I promise, I'll gladly answer all your questions about humans on the way, but like you said, I don't have any food or supplies, and that winged serpent might be my only chance to survive out here."

"What, in the rain?"

"It's only a light rain," Fweeoot-Feeree'eet said. Personally, I didn't think it felt like a light rain, but I suppose I don't live in a rainforest. It's all relative.

"Good point," said Fweet-Fweet-Toowee. "And Grace seems very nice, and she'd definitely die without our help. Okay, sure, why not?"

I thought about making a sarcastic comment here along the lines of Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, but she probably wasn't wrong. I'm not a terrible athlete—I used to be on the soccer team, so that's something, right?—but as a child of the suburbs, my survival skills are shit, and while I have been on hikes before, it was always on an existing trail, in relatively gentle terrain, with access to bottled water and trail mix to keep me going. I've never free-climbed a goddamn jungle mountain! Barefoot! In the rain! I didn't even know how high I needed to go!

Frankly, even with the help of my new friends, I was probably fucked.

Chapter Text

Hi. Still Grace. Having a hard day.

Okay, so, I'm not going to go over the whole journey, except to say that it was grueling and miserable, being barefoot did not help, and I will never again take sports bras for granted. But the good news was that I was already pretty close to my destination, and Tooweeoo-Toowee (who was happy to join my party to help guide me) was plenty familiar with the terrain, and was able to steer me to the easiest path—"easy" being a relative term, since avoiding the most difficult terrain frequently involved taking long detours through less-difficult-but-still-pretty-difficult terrain. Meanwhile, Fweet-Fweet-Toowee and Fweeoot-Feeree'eet kept a lookout for predators and other dangers, and even managed to scout out safe water sources along the way. Whenever I stopped to rest, the three of them peppered me with questions about mundane aspects of human life, and I answered honestly as best I could; it was the only payment I could offer, and I was lucky that they were willing to accept it.

They were particularly interested in the human practice of wearing clothing. That was fascinating to them. And once I explained about textiles, it led into a discussion about agriculture, which was practically science fiction to them. Totally bowled 'em over. Courtship and mating were also high on their list of topics, so I ended up telling them all about Mallory Avalon, the smartest and most beautiful girl in school, and how I was trying to get back to her in time for our human courtship ritual. They found this very romantic and compelling. ("A 'study date'! They bond over the study of new knowledge! I never realized humans had such rich cultural depths!" said Fweeoot-Feeree'eet.) It also led into a whole other conversation about human schooling and education, including math, literature, and the written word.

Oh, and they asked why humans don't have music like birds do, and in the interest of defending my species, I ended up teaching them "Take Me Home, Country Roads," which they adored. And they picked it up quick. Harmonies and everything. Even the words!

If for some unthinkable reason you ever have to traverse the Darién Gap (that's where I was, by the way, and I do not recommend vacationing there), and you hear the birds around you spontaneously start singing "COUNTRY ROOOADS, TAKE ME HOOOME, TO THE PLAAACE WHERE I BELOOONG!"…it's probably my fault. Uh. You're welcome.

Also, I did, at a couple points, make it to a clear spot with an absolutely gorgeous view of the landscape from above. Like, completely stunning. Incredible. Jaw-dropping, even. Kinda wish I'd been in the right mood to appreciate it.

As I climbed, so did the sun, and the comfortable warmth of the morning gave way to the increasingly muggy and unpleasant heat of the afternoon. Every part of me that wasn't soaked in rainwater was plastered with sweat by the time I finally heard a familiar voice in my head. You are almost there, it said. Just over those rocks. I believe in you.

And god-fucking-dammit. The voice was so sincere and kind and…ugh! It felt comforting! I didn't want it to feel like that. I wanted to be mad at him.

So, of course, I mustered my energy and pulled myself over those rocks, and hidden behind a nest of vines was a cave entrance. "That's the spot!" said Tooweeoo-Toowee. "I'm not going in there with you though. I don't want to get eaten today."

The other two birds squawked in agreement. "Sorry, Grace, you're on your own for this part," said Fweet-Fweet-Toowee.

"It's okay," I said. "Thank you so much for all the help you've given me. I never would have made it here without you."

"Good luck, you ugly, wonderful, delightful moron!" said Fweeoot-Feeree'eet affectionately.

And then they flew off, leaving me alone at the cave entrance. There was nothing else for me to do but go inside.

As I staggered through the entrance, in my tired, wet, hungry state, it didn't even occur to me that it might be a trap.

Ooh, that would be a great place for a chapter break! Suspenseful! I think I'm getting the hang of this narration thing now.

…It's not a trap, though. To be clear. Sorry. Leaving you in suspense on that line would just be actively misleading. I'm still going to put a chapter break here, but this is the couatl's actual lair that I'm entering at this point, and he does not eat me. He actually turns out to be very nice, and he'll even grant me some new powers in a minute. I'll tell you all about it after the break!

(And after this next chapter, I'm throwing the narrator job back to Kate for Chapter 48. It's a tough gig. I don't know how she handled it for all those tens of thousands of words without ever breaking the fourth wall. Even in Chapter 14, when she had a whole-ass soliloquy, she still managed to avoid directly addressing the audience or acknowledging any of the meta-structure of the story. What a pro!)

Chapter Text

It wasn't just a cave. It was a temple, carved into the inside of a mountain.

Okay. Shit. Description. Um, so, you know that sort of Mayan, Aztec, whatever, that aesthetic that you see all the time in pop culture? Like, it's all over cartoons and movies and video games and everything? And, uh, historical architecture too, probably? Right, so, it was sort of like that, I guess.

Truth be told, much like I'd been too tired to appreciate that breathtaking view earlier, I wasn't in the right frame of mind to take in the scenery here. I had just spent hours trudging through hostile wilderness. My feet hurt like hell, my stomach was rumbling, there were sticks and mud in my hair, I was still soaking wet, my arms and legs were covered in scratches, I still didn't have a bra, and my exposed skin was itchy with bug bites. I just wanted a long shower, a hot meal, and probably some malaria shots, because I didn't know where those mosquitoes had been.

So, it was like an anteroom or something, and there was, like, an archway, leading into darkness, and it all looked vaguely Aztec. Probably some cool bas-relief shit on the walls that I didn't really pay attention to. Oh, and some columns, I think. Sorry, best description I can manage.

Enter, child, and behold, said that voice in my head, and I was too tired to debate. I limped forward into the darkness.

Suddenly, light. My jaw dropped. Before me was possibly the most glorious creature I had ever seen.

He had the body of a massive constrictor snake, but with two enormous, brightly-colored feathered wings sprouting from his back. His scales glinted with a rainbow sheen that seemed to shift its hue as he moved. His eyes seemed to stare directly into my soul.

I stumbled backwards in shock, tripped, and fell on my butt.

"Ow," I said.

Be at peace, he said. You are safe here.

"Uh…hello. Mr. Couatl. Sir. Uh…my lord? I apologize, I don't know how to address you." (Be polite, that was my strategy. Don't piss off the incredibly powerful magic snake bird before he can send you home.)

Your people once called me Kukulkan.

"Like…you mean the Mayan deity? Are you…sorry, is that you? Are you a god?" I had just read multiple Wikipedia articles about Aztec and Mayan mythology last night, so that name was ringing some alarm bells for me.

No. It is merely a title. An honorific. It means "feathered serpent" in the old language. I am a feathered serpent, but not the Feathered Serpent. It will do as a form of address, though, in place of a name, if it pleases you. My kind prefer not to share our true names.

"Oh. Um, thank you, then, Kukulkan. I do have a lot of questions." I took a deep breath. "Starting with, uh, why did you bring me here? Was it some kind of test?"

Did you not ask to meet me face to face? The voice in my head sounded bemused. (That's "bemused" as in "gently bewildered." I know a lot of people get the word mixed up with "amused." I'm pretty sure he wasn't laughing at me. He just didn't understand.)

"I mean, yes, but…I didn't realize you would plop me down in the middle of…wherever we are. And then expect me to climb halfway up a mountain to reach you."

I warned you it would be difficult.

Polite. Be polite. "I…apologize for my poor comprehension skills, Kukulkan," I said, gritting my teeth and forcing myself to be as deferential as possible. "I must have misunderstood our conversation at the time. I…will endeavor to be more clear, and to understand you better in the future."

I, too, apologize. It was not my intention to cause you such distress, although I am pleased at how you acquitted yourself. If you consent, I would grant you three boons. One for your achievement, one as my apology, and a third as a show of goodwill.

Ooh. "Boons? What…uh, what kind of boons?"

I believe your soul is ready to hold more and greater magic than that which you already carry. I will empower you further, if you wish it. Simply tell me the power you desire, and I will grant it, so long as it is within my ability to grant, and within your ability to withstand.

"So…you'll let me pick out three new superpowers?"

Yes. That kind of boon.

Well, that was cool! "And you'll also answer my questions, and send me back home once I'm ready?"

Of course. And now that we've laid eyes on one another, it will be easier to remain in contact, should you have more questions in the future.

"Do you…intend to ask anything of me, in return?"

No. I do hope, though, that you will remain worthy of my power. Be brave. Be kind. Be a creator, not a destroyer. Be a soldier of peace, not of war. You have already brought joy and music to this land today; I am proud of you.

My eyes started to water. "Thank you, Kukulkan," I said, and to my surprise, I meant it.

You are welcome, child.

"Uh…in regards to boons…I don't suppose…can you grant me the power of flight?"

I can, if that is what you wish. I can give you wings like mine, so you might soar through the skies. You are strong enough, now, to withstand such power.

"I've always wanted to fly. I…I do worry, though, about how to hide it. I don't know if you know already, but magic is sort of a secret nowadays, or at least it is where I live. If people saw a girl with rainbow wings…not to put too fine a point on it, but they would freak out. Can you…"

I could grant you the power of glamer, so that you might alter your appearance to hide from unwelcome eyes, although other wielders of magic may have the means to penetrate such guises. This, too, your soul could withstand.

"Please, Kukulkan. Those two boons together sound wonderful. I can think of nothing that would delight me more. Thank you, for your generosity, and your wisdom." I clambered to my feet and bowed my head in gratitude.

Then let it be so.

I gasped as a rush of power flowed through me. My shoulder blades flexed involuntarily, and then I felt them. My wings unfolded behind me, as naturally as if they had been there all my life. Great, beautiful, lustrous, feathered wings, shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow. And they were mine. No, not just mine, they were me. Part of my body, as much as my arms and legs were.

My pajama top was completely ruined; my wings had torn it open in the back when they emerged. But you know what, fuck my pajama top. I have fuckin' wings now. I can buy new pajamas.

It will take some practice to learn to use them, said my patron. Don't jump off any tall cliffs before you're ready. Start small.

Tears were streaming from my eyes. "They're so beautiful. Thank you again, Kukulkan. A thousand times, thank you."

You are welcome, child. Your glamer abilities may be somewhat less obvious to activate. Would you like me to teach you?

"Yes, please." I bowed again.

Raise your hands above your head.

I did.

Now, envision the change you wish to make to your appearance, and sweep your hands downward. Imagine that your body is changing from the top down as your hands pass across it.

I followed his directions, imagining a version of myself that was clean, presentable, and fully dressed. There was a sort of tingling, humming sensation, but other than that, I didn't feel anything, and when I looked down at myself, nothing seemed to have changed.

"...Is something supposed to happen?" I asked.

It has happened. Well done, child. You have quite the talent for illusions.

"I don't see anything different, though." (I was wrong about this. There are definitely visual indications of the effect for the caster. Specifically, a rainbow sheen clearly outlining the shape of the glamer. Under normal circumstances, it would have been very hard to miss. In the temple, though, there were so many rainbows reflecting around the place already that it took me a while to notice it.)

You will always see through your own glamers. But at this moment, to any other observer, or to a mirror, you would appear clean and well-groomed. Although as a word of warning, this illusion is purely visual: it will not include tactile, thermal, or olfactory components. Furthermore, although you may be able to render yourself partially invisible with this boon, I expect you'll find that true and complete invisibility is beyond your power, for now.

"Oh. Still…I can't thank you enough."

You may ask another boon.

I hesitated. "I'm sorry…I don't know what else to ask for. Do you have any suggestions, Kukulkan?"

Perhaps you wish for me to enhance one of your senses? Sight, smell, hearing? That was a common request among my acolytes, when it was possible for such requests to be common. Or perhaps the ability to remain comfortable in spite of extreme temperatures? That request was common as well, and would be a good complement to your boon of flight.

"Oh. The second one! That sounds lovely. How does it work?"

It sheathes you in magic so that heat and cold cannot touch you within certain bounds: between -50 and 140 degrees, according to your Fahrenheit scale, the temperature will feel as gentle to you as a mild summer day. You may choose to extend this protection to others as well with a touch and an act of will.

"That is my third choice, then, Kukulkan. Thank you again for your wisdom."

As you wish. It is done.

I didn't notice much of a change this time, maybe because it was already a comfortable temperature inside the temple. But I thought I felt something cool and pleasant bubbling inside me.

Sidebar, and a light spoiler. After this next bit about my eyes, he's going to tell me about what happened to my birth parents. I'm letting you know in advance because it's a tragic story involving mentions (but not graphic descriptions) of migration, starvation, illness, and death, and I want to give content warnings for that shit. If you don't want to read about it, go ahead and skip ahead to the next chapter, either right now or a few paragraphs from now.

Okay, for the rest of you, sorry about the interruption. Continuing on.

I feel I should tell you that your eyes have changed as well. This is not a boon, so much as a…side effect.

"Uh…what? What's happening with my eyes? Is something wrong with them?"

Nothing wrong, no. They've merely changed color. And you will likely find yourself possessing a fragment of my own sight: the ability to see auras. It is a lesser version of the perception boon I might have granted you. All warlocks develop this ability eventually, once they take on power enough. You might also find that your skin is now more resilient against minor cuts and scratches.

"Oh." I could look forward to buying fewer band-aids and telling people I'd gotten new contact lenses. Not too big a deal.

You have questions, you said?

"Yes. I do. Why me? Why did you choose me? Did you know my birth parents?"

Yes. When you were a babe, they came through these lands from the southeast, seeking a better life than the one they left behind. The journey was hard, and they became separated from the rest of their party. Lost. They were sick when they stumbled into my domain, and starving. I…am not what I once was. My magic was not enough to save all of you. I am sorry.

"I…" I couldn't speak. Didn't know what to say.

They didn't ask me to save them. Only to save the one they loved—to save you. I had magic enough for that. So I saw to it that you would be safe, and protected. I sent you forth with my blessing.

In the old days, I would have requested a service in return, but you were too young to understand what I might have asked of you, and so the pact between us has no terms. It is only my gift to you, and my apology to those I failed to protect.

"What…what were their names?" I asked quietly. I could feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

They did not offer them, and I did not ask. It is not the way of my kind to share names freely. I am sorry. I wish now that I had asked.

And it was at this point where it was all too much, and I broke down and started really, properly crying. Kukulkan awkwardly wrapped his wings around me to comfort me, and dammit, it actually did make me feel better. I hugged him, with my arms and with my wings, and he let me cry it out until I was ready to speak again.

"I…I think I'm…ready to go home now," I managed to say.

As you wish.

Chapter Text

Grace was absent when Mal and I showed up for math class. The teacher marked it as unexcused.

She wasn't at lunch, either, and she wasn't responding to our text messages. And after class, when Mal tried to call her, it went to voicemail. "Something's wrong, Kate," said Mal, once she finished leaving a message. "You don't think something happened to her, do you?"

"I hope not," I said. I liked Grace. She was nice, and I liked having another person around who could understand my speech.

"But she wouldn't just ghost, would she? I didn't do something to scare her off, did I? I don't think I did, but…"

"I don't think you did either. Honestly, I'm worried too. Maybe she's home sick, but her phone is broken?" That was the explanation that made the most sense. If she were only sick, it wouldn't stop her from answering her phone. But if she was sick and her phone was broken, it would explain why she couldn't be in touch.

Still, from my limited point of view, I didn't really know what happened. I could only guess.

Mal was crestfallen. "Do we just…go home then? Call it a bust for today, try again tomorrow?"

"No," I said. "No, I don't think we give up that easily. We gotta know. I say we go to her house and check on her. Make sure she's okay. You have her address, right?"

That was what Grace would want us to do if my theory was correct. And if something bad had happened to her, like an accident or something, there might be someone else answering the door who could tell us about it.

Mal nodded.

With me in her backpack looking over her shoulder, she biked to the west side of town. Grace's house was a classic single-family suburban home, with a front porch, a one-car garage, a tiled roof, and a well-tended lawn, all overlooking a quiet residential street not far from a middle school and a public park.

There wasn't an obvious spot to park a bicycle, so Mal just pulled into the driveway and clicked the kickstand into place as she dismounted.

That's when the angel fell out of the sky.

A winged woman—barefoot, dripping wet, covered in mud, and dressed in tattered rags—appeared out of nowhere about ten feet off the ground, hovered there briefly, then crashed face-first onto the lawn.

The fuck?

The woman pushed herself up and saw us, and her octarine eyes lit up. Before she was fully vertical, her wings flapped, and she flew toward Mal, tears in her eyes, catching my wizard flat-footed in a cross between a hug and a tackle that I can describe only as a glomp.

If the other woman were bound by gravity, she would have knocked Mal over and pinned her to the ground (on top of me—ouch). Instead, the angel's beating wings kept her and Mal steady in an embrace at an impossible thirty-degree angle.

I went ahead and hopped out of Mal's backpack anyway. Just in case.

"I'm back," sobbed the angel into Mal's shoulder. "Oh, Mal. I was afraid I'd never see you again!"

"G… Grace? Is…is that you?" Mal stammered.

Holy shit. It was Grace. What the fuck happened to her?

"Grace? What the fuck happened to you?" I said, padding toward her for a closer look. "Your aura is so much stronger! And why do you smell like snakes?"

Grace laughed through her tears. "It's a long story!"

Chapter Text

Grace led us up to the porch, then stopped. "Right. I don't have my key." She rang the doorbell.

"So…you have wings now," said Mal. "That's, uh…okay, does it sound corny if I say it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen? Because, uh." She blushed.

"No, no, it's fine, I had a really similar reaction. They're amazing! I can't wait to start actually flying with them. First things first, though. I need to shower and change. Like, real bad."

"Yeah, the wings are incredible! Just gorgeous. Those colors…that sheen…I mean, wow, just…wow." I said. "But…uh…the rest of you looks like you were dragged through a wet ditch. Seriously, are you okay?"

Mal seemed confused. "What are you talking about? She looks great to me."

"She's covered in mud, Mal. Her clothes are soaked through and practically shredded. There are leaves in her hair. Are you seeing the same Grace that I'm seeing?"

"Today I learned that cats can see through glamers," said Grace. "It's true. I'm a mess. I just put up an illusion as a stopgap. I'm fine now, though, I promise. Well…okay, I might need a malaria shot."

Mal and I just stared for a beat. Then the door opened.

"Daddy!" squealed Grace, diving into the arms of the tall, bespectacled black man who had just opened the door. Her wings had to fold up for her to fit through the doorway.

"Ah…hello. I love you too, kiddo," he said, patting Grace on the back. He looked over at us. "You must be Mallory, Grace's study buddy, right? Welcome. My name is Jules Berry; I'm Grace's adoptive father. Or rather, one of her adoptive fathers; Leo, my husband, is cooking dinner over in the kitchen." And then he looked back at Grace. "What are you wearing, Grace? Is this a costume? It's very good."

"No, Daddy, they're real magic rainbow wings. My Snake Bird Dad gave them to me. Also, I've acquired a third dad, and he's a snake bird."

He raised his eyebrows. "Ah. Sarcasm. Fair enough. Ask a silly question, get a silly answer."

"It's, uh, nice to meet you, Mr. Berry," said Mal. "I'm a wizard. Sorry, Grace, does he know about this stuff or not? I'm a little confused."

"Oh, he just doesn't believe in magic. I've been keeping my powers a secret, and we haven't had The Talk yet," said Grace. "I think the time for it is fast approaching, though, because let me tell you, I have had a day, and like I said…first things first."

"Well, I'm confused now too," said Jules. "But, uh, come on in, you two. Oh!" He noticed me. "And your little friend, too?"

"This is Kate," Mal said, as I followed her inside. "She's my familiar. Um. Emotional support animal. She helps me with anxiety. And also magic. Which is real, by the way. And she's training to be an accountant."

"I can talk!" I said. "But you probably can't understand me."

"Well! Nice to meet you too, Kate," said Jules, looking down at me. Then he looked back at Mal. "Oh, I think I understand! Grace mentioned that you play Dungeons & Dragons together. This is a LARP thing, right? You know, I myself used to do SCA reenactments when I was in college."

"That's cool," I said.

Grace skipped down the hall. "Okay, so, quick tour, here's the living room, there's the dining room, bathroom is over that way, there's my bedroom through there, my dads' bedroom across the way, and that's the kitchen, smells like my dad's frying onions in there, and side note, I am literally starving so I hope that's ready soon. Hi, Dad!"

"Hi, Grace!" came a muffled voice from the other side of the wall. "Is your friend staying for dinner?"

"We haven't decided yet!" Grace called back.

"Okay, well, I'll make extra just in case!"

Mal took off her shoes and dropped off her backpack by the door. "You have a lovely home, Mr. Berry," she said awkwardly.

"C'mon, follow me!" said Grace. She led us away from her dad and down the hall to the bathroom.

"This…is the bathroom," said Mal. It was a very nice bathroom. Well-kept. One of those fuzzy covers for the toilet. Soap dispensers that looked like miniature aquariums. Coral-esque decorations around the mirror. Nautical tchotchkes hanging on the walls. Shower stall with one of those foggy sliding glass doors. Very classy.

"Yeah," said Grace, stepping inside. We followed her in. "Like I said, I need a long shower. And I've got a long story to tell you. We can multitask, right? Do you mind sitting here while I wash up and tell you about it all?"

Mal blinked. "But…you'll be…I mean…"

"You're forgetting that I can do this now," Grace said, lifting up her hands and then sweeping them downward.

Mal gasped. "Wow! You look—"

"—Exactly the same," I finished, at the exact same time that Mal said "—Pixelated!"

"What?" we both said at the same time.

"It's like she's censored herself by lowering her resolution," Mal said. "You really don't see it?"

"Look in the mirror, Kate," Grace said, nodding at the mirror above the sink. I hopped up. In the reflection, the pixelation effect that Mal described was perfectly visible.

Oh. Sure, that made sense, I guess. I nodded. "Yeah, I see it now."

"This might be a little over-the-top. Maybe I'll go for a bathing suit instead. Either way, it's not like you're seeing me naked on the first date." Grace frowned. "Well…I guess Kate…uh, Kate can close her eyes."

Mal was turning crimson.

Grace sat down on the fuzzy toilet lid and accidentally knocked a tchotchke off the wall with her wings. "Shit, didn't mean to do that," she said. "Look, uh…this isn't me trying to be forward. Really. It's just me back from spending the last, like, six or seven hours hiking up a mountain in the Darién Gap. Frankly, I'm too tired to care if you see me in the shower, even if I didn't have a glamer on. Maybe I should. I don't know. But if it's too much, you don't have to…I mean…"

She looked down, and noticed that she'd left a giant mud stain on the fuzzy toilet lid. "Shit. Didn't mean to do that either."

"Okay," I said. "You're absolutely right, Grace. Get in the shower. I'll close my eyes. And Mal—" I poked my wizard. "Stop short-circuiting! It's fine. Go over and presto that mud stain away, then sit down."

"Yes, ma'am," said Mal weakly.

"Look, I'm not here to meddle, or be a third wheel," I continued. "If you two want time alone at some point, I'll leave you to it, I promise. But I gotta hear this story. You were where, exactly?!"

Chapter Text

"So, anyway, once I got close to his cave, I started hearing his voice in my head, encouraging me to keep going, and…" Grace coughed. "Sorry, I'm a little dehydrated, I think."

"When did you last eat and drink?" I asked.

"The birds helped me find little pools of rainwater to drink during the climb. It wasn't a lot to work with, though. Besides that…uh, last night, I guess it would have been?"

"Holy hell, and you've been hiking all day? You're lucky you haven't already collapsed! I'm getting you a glass of water."

"Do you want me to…" Mal started to stand up.

"No, it's fine, I've got it." I shifted into human form. "It'll give me the chance to introduce myself properly."

"Oh, don't give them the demo without me! Ack!" Grace had turned around in the shower a little too quickly and knocked over a shampoo bottle with her wings. "Dangit! You would think with full proprioception on these…gorgeous things, I would be able to avoid knocking things over with them!"

"Can you dismiss them?" Mal asked. "If they're a magical effect, I mean, a lot of magical effects can be turned off and on again."

"Honestly, I didn't ask," said Grace. "They don't feel like a magical effect. They feel as much like a part of my body as my arms and legs do."

I left them in the bathroom and slipped out into the hallway, following the smell of sizzling food into the kitchen. Jules was sitting in a chair in front of a small table, reading today's newspaper, and a man with tan skin, a buzz cut, a single earring, and a full beard stood over a hot stove, frying tofu. There was also an orange tabby cat dozing in a sunbeam in the corner.

"You must be Leo," I said, extending a hand.

"That I am," said the man, turning away from the rangetop to accept the handshake. "Mallory, I presume?"

"Oh, no, sorry. My name is Kate. I'm Grace's other friend. I met your husband on our way in. Hello, Jules!"

Jules looked up. "I'm sorry, who are you?" he said.

"Kate. Mal introduced us earlier, remember? I was a cat at the time."

He stared blankly.

Leo just sighed. "Grace didn't tell me she had a second friend coming over too. It's fine, though, I can cut up some more tofu. Do you have any dietary needs?"

"Not when I'm in human form! Thank you for your hospitality, it's very kind of you. Actually, I came in here to get some water for the other girls. Where can I find the drinking glasses?"

"That cabinet over there," Leo said, tilting his head toward the cabinet in question. "You can fill 'em at the fridge."

"Thanks!" I retrieved a tall glass and started filling it.

"Now wait just a moment," said Jules. He set down his newspaper. "I know full well that a study session like this is always just a flimsy pretense for a makeout session. I was born at night, but it wasn't last night, hmm? So why are there two girls here we've never met? And why didn't I see you coming in with them earlier…Kate, was it?"

"Well, dear, I expect that either they're forming a polycule, or you were wrong all along and they're actually planning to do math," Leo replied.

"Like I said, I was a cat when we came in earlier," I explained. "I'm Mal's adoptive sister, familiar, and emotional support. In this instance, I'm acting as Mal's wingwoman too, although it's a bit ironic to be describing myself as the wingwoman in this scenario, given recent events." I winked.

"Am I supposed to understand that reference?" Leo asked.

"Grace was wearing wings when she came in," Jules explained. "Wingwoman, eh? So there is a romance brewing, then."

I nodded. "Yes, spot on. Although I think they're still at the 'holding hands' stage. I'm sure they'll get to makeout sessions eventually."

"I feel like I'm understanding about 90% of this conversation," said Leo.

"The other 10% is that magic is real and all three of us girls have magic powers of various kinds," I explained. "The wings are real, too, by the way. Anyway, nice to properly meet you!" I gave them a nod as I headed out of the kitchen, leaving them looking perplexed.

Hehehe. That was fun. People really don't believe it when you tell them.

Mal and Grace were trying to figure out if the wings were dismissible when I rejoined them. "Nope, that didn't work either," said Grace.

"Two cups of water," I announced. I stepped over the ruined clothes that Grace had tossed on the floor and slid the shower door open a crack to hand her one of the cups. Then I handed the other to Mal. "I think I perplexed your dads. Oh, and by the way, they've caught on that you two are dating, not studying. The phrase 'flimsy pretext' was thrown around. They seem chill about it, though."

Grace chugged the whole glass in about two seconds and handed it back. "Thanks…yeah, I didn't try very hard to be subtle about it."

"Oh, you're finished with your water already," Mal said. "Do you want the other glass too?"

"Yes, please."

Fair enough. I took the other glass from Mal and passed it through as well.

"Well, I'm just glad to hear we're on the same page about the studying being a flimsy pretense, because I'll be totally honest here, I never study and I'm not even sure I know how," Mal admitted.

"You study magic," I pointed out.

"That's different."

"Anyway," I said. "Grace, you need to eat something, too, or you're going to pass out as soon as you finish coming down from the adrenaline high."

"Oh, you're absolutely right," she replied. "I'm famished. Probably a little bit irresponsible of Snake Bird Dad not to feed me before sending me home, but I guess in fairness I didn't mention it to him either. Lemme finish washing my hair and then I'll get out and get some food."

"Good," I said.

"Agreed," said Mal.

"And in the meantime…what happened once you got to the cave?"

"Oh, well, it was this big underground temple thingy…I don't know, I was pretty tired and I wasn't paying attention to the scenery. It was mostly empty except for the one couatl. He asked me to address him as Kukulkan, but he clarified that it's a title, not a name. So, like, 'Sir' or 'My Lord,' but for snake birds—that's how I understood it, anyway. And then he apologized for my trouble and said I was really brave and he was proud of me, and he offered me three boons. So I asked for these wings, and the glamer thing, and then he suggested a third ability that lets me be comfortable with heat or cold, which sounded pretty good, so I went with that. All three boons, by the way, super awesome, no regrets so far.

"And then he told me about how he found me when my birth parents were dying, and he bound himself to me to save my life. So, he doesn't actually want any service in exchange, because I couldn't consent to the pact at the time, since I was, y'know, a baby. He just wants me to be kind. He's kind of a sweetheart, actually. And then he sent me home, and I crash-landed on the lawn!"

"Wow, so he's actually just…nice?" said Mal.

"Pretty much! And I'm done with my hair, so I'm going to come out of the shower now." There was a squeak from the plumbing as she turned off the water. "D'you mind handing me a towel?"

I found a bath towel on a shelf and passed it into the stall for her. "Thanks," she said. A moment later, she stepped out with the towel wrapped around her, with enough slack in the back to leave her wings uncovered. They seemed to be almost completely dry, even though her hair was still dripping. I guess the feathers were waterproof. She still held the drinking glass in the hand that wasn't holding up the towel, and the mirror showed that she had on an illusion of a bathing suit underneath the towel, just in case.

"Okay, I'm going to go get dressed. Hopefully I can find a top that still fits! Sorry for all this, I know it isn't exactly what we planned."

"I'm just glad you're okay," said Mal. "You went through a lot today. And you leveled up! You must be a solid four or five levels higher than me now, by D&D reckoning. I've got some catching up to do!"

"For the record, I do not recommend the method I used to gain that xp." She noticed her reflection in the mirror and bent in closer. "Wow, my eyes really did change color! Look at that! They're like…uh…I don't think I've ever seen that color before in my life."

"It's octarine," I said. "I noticed it earlier. Kind of like a cross between purple, green, and bright yellow all at the same time, right, Grace? That's the color of magic. Cats can see it, humans can't."

"Huh. Well, I get the feeling couatls can see it too. He said I'd be able to see magic now."

"What? Let me see?" said Mal. The two of them made eye contact. They were quiet for a beat, then both of them turned away at the same time and blushed. "It, uh, just looks like a pale lavender to me. Guess I can't, uh…"

"I'm…going to put some clothes on now," Grace stammered.

Chapter Text

"How's this?" said Grace from the doorway of her bedroom. She had settled on a pair of jeans and a loose tank top with a low cut in the back that her wings could comfortably poke through.

Mal couldn't help but stare. "I've still never seen anything—or anyone—more beautiful," she said, with quiet awe. "Can I…touch them?"

"Sure. C'mere."

Mal stepped forward hesitantly and ran her hand through the feathers of Grace's outstretched wing. "It's so soft…"

"Great for hugs," Grace said. "Not so great for clothing, but I can glamer a top like this to look like whatever I want, so it balances out, hopefully."

"Wow…can I test-drive the hugs?"

I decided this would be a good time to give them a moment, so I turned back into a cat and wandered back to the living room.

Another cat intercepted me halfway through the hallway and nearly bumped into me. "Oh!" I said. "Hello there!"

"Hey, kid," said the other cat. He was a male gray tabby, slightly bigger than I was, with a "voice" that sounded low and gravelly to me. I could tell from his scent that he was getting on in years, but still in reasonably good health. "What are you doing here? You trying to join our pride?"

So it turns out that I can, in fact, speak with other cats. And instead of hearing the sounds and intuitively understanding their meaning, my brain reinterprets it as a humanlike voice, somehow. TIL.

"No, sorry, I'm just visiting. I'm with that human over there in the pink dress," I said, flicking my tail towards Mal. "My name's Katelyn. What's yours?"

"Your human gave you one of their human names, huh? Yeah, mine too. George, they call me. And the orange kid in the other room is Will. Don't know if you met him yet. Hmph. Names. Humans are weird, aren't they? Poor things, can't even identify each other properly by smells."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Yeah. Uh…weird. Uh, I think I saw Will, but I didn't talk to him."

"You meet Grace yet? She's a damn special human, that one. Never met one before who could talk properly. Heard of 'em, sure, but she's the first I've seen."

"Yeah, my human already introduced me to Grace a few days ago. I like her. Did you see she has wings now? That's pretty wild, right?"

"Eh. She's still a human. Smells mostly the same. I don't think it changes much around here. Hey, come on over this way, I'll introduce you to the kid." He walked off toward the dining room. I followed him.

"I've been trying to teach the kid to hunt, but he's real bad at it so far," he continued. "Spent all his life in these soft human houses, never had to live in the alleys. It's made him soft, like the humans."

"You used to be a stray, then?"

"Yep. But I got old, kid. I'm retired now. Left that life behind. Too hard for me to keep up on my own. Lemme guess, you're another house cat, like the kid?"

"I…uh…I suppose you could say I've lived in human houses all my life, yes."

"Hmph. Thought so. It's the accent. You talk too loud. You oughta get used to talking to folks with decent hearing, you know, instead of caterwauling so humans can hear you all the time, hmm?"

I lowered my voice, feeling a little self-conscious all of a sudden. "Oh. Sorry." I guess cats don't normally communicate with each other at a volume audible to humans. I was learning a lot in this conversation, and it sure was raising some questions about how this translation factor worked, exactly.

The orange cat, Will, had moved to a different sunbeam in the dining room. Now that I could smell him, I knew that he was a little bit younger than me—or rather, younger than the biological age of my cat form—and that he spent most of his time indoors, but was also, like George, in generally good health. His ears perked up with curiosity at our approach, and he uncurled himself.

"Hello!" I said cheerfully, joining him in the sunbeam. "You must be the one the humans call 'Will.' They call me Katelyn. I'm a friend of Grace!"

"Hi," he said. "You smell a lot like that human who passed through the kitchen a few minutes ago. Was she part of your pride?"

"Oh! No, she was me! The female human in the pink dress is mine, and she's very clever. She used magic to give me the ability to turn into a human for a short time, when I want to. So, the human you saw was me, in human form."

"Oh, wow! That's cool," said Will. "What's it like? Is it very different from being a cat? Grace always says she doesn't have much of a comparison point, because she's never been a cat before, but if you've been both…"

"Oh, it's very clumsy and slow in comparison," I said. "And humans can't smell or hear as well as cats, and balancing on two legs with no tail takes a lot of practice. All it takes is a little push to knock you over. But it is fun being big, sometimes, and having opposable thumbs. Also, when I'm a human, I can talk to other humans and they can understand me, which is mostly what I use it for, if I'm being honest."

"What's this nonsense?" said George. "Turning into a human? In my day, cats were happy to be cats, and that was that. Why would you want to spend time as a lesser creature? Hmph! Shameful!"

"I think it's cool," Will protested. "Do you think your human could let me turn into a human, too?"

"I don't think so. She can only manage it for one cat at a time. Sorry."

"Oh. Darn." He thought for a second. "You smell nice, and you're a female. Do you want to mate sometime?"

"Uh…no. No thank you. I'm not interested in mating with anyone. But I appreciate the offer," I said gently. Believe it or not, it wasn't the worst attempt at a pickup line I ever heard; he was very earnest. But for several obvious reasons, there was a zero percent chance I would ever cross that line. He was at most maybe one-tenth my age, and also a cat. Nope, nope, nope.

"Okay," he said. "I suppose Grace did ask me not to sire kittens without her permission, anyway. She says they're an 'ecological disaster,' whatever that means."

George flicked his tail. "Hmph! Grace is soft too. She's worried about all the prey animals those kittens would grow up to hunt. I say that if your kittens are as skilled at hunting as you are, kid, those prey animals have nothing to fear!"

"Hey, there's no need to be mean," I said.

"Not mean. Just the truth." He turned and walked away.

"It's okay," I told Will. "I'm not very good at hunting either. Actually, I've never hunted at all before."

"I bet he would teach you, too, if you asked him," Will said. "He's old and grouchy, but I really have learned a lot from him. I just can't quite get the hang of pouncing. I have a hard time judging the distances."

"Oh, is there something wrong with your eyesight? Or your whiskers?"

"I don't know. Do you think there might be? I just figured I'm not very good at it, is all."

"Beats me. My human's father is a veterinarian, though. He might know."

My ears twitched as I heard Mal and Grace heading back in my direction. "She's over that way, and she's feeling curious," Mal was saying. Ah. They were looking for me.

"Excuse me, Will, it sounds like I'm wanted," I said.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Katelyn. I'd be happy to share a sunbeam with you again another time, if you like."

"It was nice to meet you too." He curled back up as I strutted toward the sound of Mal's voice, meeting her and Grace halfway as they were coming into the living room.

"Ah, there you are!" said Mal.

"We're gonna come out to my dads! (About magic. They already know I'm a lesbian.) You wanna join us?" You could hear the parentheses in Grace's voice. For some reason, it felt very on-brand for her.

I grinned and jumped up onto Mal's shoulder. "Heck yeah I do! Lead the way!"

Chapter Text

Grace kept her wings folded close to her to avoid knocking over anything else as Mal and I followed her into the kitchen. When she laid eyes on Leo flipping over the frying tofu with a spatula, a smile broke out on her face. "Dad! I'm so happy to see you again!" She ran up and hugged him from behind, forcing him to set the spatula down.

"Oh! Easy there, Grace! I'm happy to see you too! But it's only been…uh…a few…"

Grace hadn't just wrapped her arms around him. She'd also wrapped her wings around him. I wish I had a picture of the expression on his face as he slowly realized it.

"...a few…hours…since…uh…Grace, what…what are these?" He poked at one of her wings.

Grace folded her wings up again and let him go. "They're wings, Dad."

"Oh. Of course. That…that makes sense." Leo paused. "Wait. Hang on. What?" He turned to the corner of the room where Jules was still reading his newspaper. "Jules, those wings felt very real to me."

"Eliminate the impossible," Jules said without looking up. "It's impossible for our daughter to have spontaneously sprouted wings. Therefore, they must be an incredibly detailed and well-crafted prosthetic, and we should either be proud of her engineering skills or concerned about how much money she might have spent on a commission."

Leo squinted at Grace's wings. "I'm sorry, but I don't think Daedalus himself could have crafted anything this convincing, and I don't see any seams, straps, or controls. What else could the mechanism possibly be?"

"Why don't I explain it over dinner?" Grace suggested. "It turns out my friends are staying after all, and we're all really hungry. Especially me. Please feed me."

Leo frowned. "Well, uh, the tofu needs a little bit longer, but if you're hungry now, I did make a salad to go with it. Do you want to go ahead and serve yourselves—"

"Yes please!" Grace said. She zoomed over to the cabinets and started grabbing dishes and utensils.

Leo turned to Mal. "And by process of elimination, you must be Mallory, I presume?"

"That's me! And you must be Leo! Pleased to meet you. Call me Mal—most people do."

"Where did Kate go? Your sister, right? Isn't she joining us?"

"Oh—yes, she will be, yes. She's a cat right now."

Leo took a deep breath. "Right. Let me guess. She's that cat, the one on your shoulder right now, who has the exact same hair and eye color as her."

I nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's true," Mal said apologetically. "Well-spotted. You have a good eye."

Leo massaged his temples. "I might need a moment here."

Grace came back over with three bowls of caesar salad balanced in her arms, each with a fork poking out of it. "Salad for you both," she said, handing two of them to Mal. Then she skipped out to the dining room table, plopped herself down, and began devouring the third.

"Excuse us, please," said Mal, following Grace back to the table, leaving Leo standing, vexed and confused, in front of the stove.

"It pains me to say this, but I think we miiight need a more delicate approach," I said, as Mal set down both of our salad bowls on adjacent placemats. "I'm getting the impression that if we just go all-out, it might break their brains."

"Yeah, you might be right," said Grace. "Let's walk them through it a little more slowly. Ease them in." She took her last bite of salad—wow, she really cleaned out her bowl fast!—and swallowed it.

"We can hear you, you know!" called Leo from the other room. "Also, tofu is done!"

"Okay, both of you, we need to talk!" Grace called back.

A short time later, all five of us were assembled at the dinner table, with plates of tofu and vegetables laid out in front of us. Well, I was sitting on Mal's lap, but there was a place set out for me next to her. Close enough.

"I think we'd better start with a reality check," Mal said. "We're about to tell you that magic is real. And then we' ll prove it. But first, let's establish that this isn't a dream or hallucination. Is that okay?"

"Fair enough," said Leo.

"This feels like a trap somehow. But sure," said Jules.

"You may or may not know that in a dream, you can't read," Mal explained. "Written words and numbers shift and change whenever you look away from them. If you check the time, then look away, then check again, it will have shifted to a new random number. I notice you're wearing a smart watch, Jules. Would you both please check the time on it, like I described?"

They did. "I believe I'm satisfied that this is not a dream," Jules said. Leo nodded in agreement.

"Okay," said Mal. "That's good. So, I'll explain! Grace's wings aren't a costume. They're physically part of her. A beautiful, wonderful, glorious part of her. She's proud of them, and you should be too."

"How is that possible?" Leo asked.

"Magic!" said Grace. "I grew them with magic. And I have other magical powers too."

Jules looked a little more closely. "I didn't notice before, but…your eyes. Grace, they've changed color. How did…"

"That's also magic," said Grace. She took a bite of tofu. "Mmm, Dad, this came out really tasty!"

"Ah…thanks, kiddo…" said Leo.

"You're probably ready to see some really clear, obvious proof that magic is real," Mal continued. "All three of us have spells we could cast, but I think Kate's cat-to-human transformation will be the most impressive for a first-timer to watch, and she'll need to change forms to eat this food anyway, so…if you would do the honors, Kate?"

Obligingly, I hopped to the floor and spoke the words. Purple light washed over me, and then, as a human, I took my seat in the chair next to Mal. "...That's more or less the only magic I can do," I admitted.

Jules took off his glasses, polished them in his shirt, then put them back on again, an astonished look on his face. "Mother of God…"

"You're a werecat. Oh, this is a lot. This is a lot. I need a drink of water," said Leo. He took a long sip from his glass.

I grimaced apologetically. "Sorry. I know it can be overwhelming. It was a shock for me, too, at first. I'm pretty sure I cussed up a storm at the time."

Mal patted me on the shoulder.

"...I'm sorry I didn't believe you earlier, Grace," said Jules. "This…changes everything. My own daughter! Christ above, you're an angel, an actual…and I still don't understand how this happened!"

"Our daughter is an X-Man," said Leo. He sounded like he could barely believe the words coming out of his mouth.

"Technically, I think I'm actually a warlock," Grace said gently. "I have about half a dozen different superpowers now. I've been able to talk to animals for a few months. And I have a beam attack. (Which is how I really broke that window. Sorry I didn't tell you.) But the wings are new, and I also have a new disguise ability, and I can see magic, and ignore extreme temperatures."

Leo's jaw dropped. "Our daughter is at least four X-Men all by herself."

"And the wings are supposed to be fully functional, too! I can fly! I mean, I haven't yet, but I should be able to!"

Meanwhile, I felt something brush against my leg, and found that a certain young orange tabby cat had joined us. I looked down. "Katelyn, can I have some of your food?" said the cat.

"Sorry, Will, I don't think this is something a cat can eat," I told him.

"But you're eating it."

"Yes, but I'm a human right now. I can handle onions. You would get sick."

Will meowed in disappointment, then walked under the table to where Grace was sitting. "Grace, can I have some of your food?"

"No, Will, Katelyn is right." Grace looked over at me. "So you can talk to other cats, then!"

"Apparently. Will seems sweet, and George is a bit of a curmudgeon, isn't he?"

"If I can't have food because I'm a cat, then can you change me into a human like Katelyn?" Will asked Grace. "She said her human gave her a human form. You're my human. Can you give me a human form?"

"I'm sorry, I don't have the power to change you into a human like her. Maybe I will, someday."

Mal frowned. "You shouldn't have the ability to speak with other cats yet, Kate. I double-checked my notes, and it's not supposed to show up until I unlock 2nd-level spells."

"But I can!" I said excitedly. "And it can't be an innate cat thing if I'm doing it in human form, so…you must have unlocked them without realizing it! Mal, we leveled up!"

"Oh!"

Leo turned to Mal. "This seems like a good segue. You said you have superpowers too, Mal. What do you do?" It seemed like his initial shock was starting to shift to eager curiosity.

"I'm a wizard! I have a book of spells, and if I read from it, I can, well…cast spells! It's sort of a grab bag of lots of different abilities, most of which I can only use a limited number of times per day. And I can write in the book to give myself new spells, like, I recently copied down a shrinking spell, for example." She hooked her arm around my shoulders. "I can also bond with a familiar! Kate here is basically like my sidekick. She helps me with wizard stuff."

"And I'm studying to be a CPA," I added. I took a bite of tofu.

Grace was already done with hers. "That may have been the greatest dinner I've ever had," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Although it's possible that I may be biased because I haven't eaten since last night and I just spent all day hiking barefoot through the rainforest."

"You what?"

Chapter Text

To my surprise, they actually did end up studying math. Not much, but after dinner—and after some tearful hugs where Grace's dads reaffirmed that they loved her, and they would always accept her (wings and all), and if that couatl ever showed up here they would give him a piece of their mind for being so careless with her safety—the two girls retreated to Grace's room and decided to go over some of the classwork that she missed while she was on her adventure.

But just a little bit.

I had said earlier that I didn't think they were at the "makeout session" stage of their relationship yet, and it seemed like I was right. They didn't spend their non-studying time kissing. Oh, they definitely wanted to. I didn't need an empathic link to figure that out. But Mal was too timid to make the first move, and Grace was coming down off her adrenaline-induced manic state and needed more time to work up her courage. Instead, they simply…played with magic.

Because, as it turns out, having magical powers is fun.

Grace's new glamer ability in particular was enthralling to experiment with. It was almost exactly identical to the Disguise Self spell, which Mal had in her spellbook but didn't prepare today. It was also way more powerful in a warlock's hands. Mal could use it once a day for about half an hour at a time. Grace could use it at will, with an unlimited duration, allowing her to shift her disguise into something completely different at a moment's notice. At first she went from illusory outfit to illusory outfit, and then started playing with visual effects like the pixelation she'd used earlier, followed by testing how much of herself she could turn invisible at a time. Then she started doing celebrity impressions, then cosplays, and finally tried her hand at animal forms, which seemed to be the hardest—although not impossible, if the animal was the right shape.

Meanwhile, Mal showed off her suite of cantrips, using Prestidigitation to screw with colors and hairstyles, creating light shows with Dancing Lights, and playing a phantom karaoke soundtrack with Ghost Sound. That last one kept them busy for a while.

Kept us busy, I should say. They made me sing, too.

Okay, fine, they asked me to sing, too, and I happily accepted. What can I say? It's fun.

I really was worried about being the third wheel, but it didn't seem like either of them saw me that way, because when I tried to back off from the conversation to give them space, one or the other of them would deliberately rope me back in with a question aimed at me. The simple fact of the matter was that all three of us liked each other, even if it was just the two of them who like-liked each other. Mal saw our bond as an essential part of herself, and not once did she even consider that she might be more comfortable if I went elsewhere. To her, sending me away would have been like detaching one of her limbs.

This was an ongoing development between Mal and me, by the way. When we were discussing the topic of embarrassing dreams this morning, I think it made us both start to reconsider how much we actually cared about our mutual privacy from one another, versus how much we just thought we were supposed to care. When you share a soul with someone, it gives you a different perspective on these things.

And as for Grace's opinion on the matter, well, I think she sussed out for herself the way Mal felt about me, and I got the impression that she simply…didn't mind. If we were a package deal, she was okay with that.

As night fell, Grace led Mal to the back porch, and they held hands in the moonlight, listening to the chirping of the crickets and the soft cooing of an owl.

"Oh, I know that owl! Hang on a second," said Grace. She turned and shouted up at the trees: "Oy! HooHoo-HooHoo! Check out the new feathers! How do you like me now, eh? Still feel sorry for me?"

Several hoots sounded in response.

"Damn straight!" Grace called back. Then she chuckled and turned back to Mal. "I don't think he's going to make fun of me for being stuck to the ground anymore."

Mal smiled. And then their eyes met, and I could sense their pulses quickening.

They both spoke at the same time. "Do you mind if I—" "Can we—"

They stopped, then spoke again. "Sorry, I—" "Oops, didn't mean to—"

Another pause.

"You first," said Mal.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?" Grace blurted out.

"That's what I was going to say!"

And they kissed.

It was only a short kiss. But it was followed quickly afterwards by a longer, even more passionate one. And then a third kiss, their bodies pressed tightly together, two wings beating in time with their hearts, and I felt Mal's emotions leap in surprised delight as two pairs of feet slowly left the ground.

It should have been impossible for wings of that size, beating at that speed, to lift even one person, let alone two at once. Pretty sure it violates several laws of physics.

But a warlock's wings aren't purely physical. Once Grace willed herself to take off, the magic of her pact shone through in all its polychromatic splendor, shedding a trail of glittering motes behind her like fairy dust. The colors in her feathers seemed to become even more vibrant, and prismatic reflections scattered the moonlight as it glinted off her wings, painting the suburban landscape around them with hundreds of tiny rainbows.

Look. I wouldn't consider myself a romantic. But damn.

They were about 15 feet off the ground when they finally came up for air, at which point Grace looked down and suddenly seemed to realize how high up they were. "Oh. Oh! I'm sorry!"

"Sorry? This is amazing!" Mal said breathlessly.

Grace's flapping was starting to take on a more frantic quality. "Yes, but I don't know how to land yet!"

Mal clutched onto her more tightly. "Oh."

"Please tell me you have a Feather Fall spell!"

"Not prepared!"

"Ack! Okay, hold on tight, I'm going to try and steer us onto the roof. Ready?"

"Ready," Mal said, squeezing her eyes shut.

They twisted in midair as Grace tried to alter their trajectory. It was clumsy flying, but they successfully tumbled onto the tiled roof and—with a few grunts of "Oof!" and "Gah!"—managed to avoid rolling off the side.

I almost shouted up to ask if they were okay, but I stopped myself. If Mal were hurt, I would know; no need for me to interrupt them when they were having a moment.

"You okay?" Grace asked softly.

"Yeah. You?"

"Not a scratch. I guess Kukulkan wasn't kidding when he said I'd be more durable."

A pause. "I guess I should probably get off of you," Mal said.

"Another kiss first?"

"...Okay."

Alright, maybe they were at the "makeout session" stage of their relationship.

I waited until I was confident they were done. Then I said, "Hey! Do you need me to get a ladder?"

"Yes, please," Grace replied.

Chapter Text

Mal flopped backwards onto her bed and sighed with happiness. "Kate…I think I might be in love."

Yeah. I figured as much. She had been over the moon the whole way home, too. And the whole time getting ready for bed. Her first date with Grace ended in the best possible way: too soon, and on a high note. Both of them were left wanting more.

I hopped up next to her. "She sure is something, isn't she?" I remarked.

"She's so brave and smart and kind and beautiful," Mal gushed, clutching a Bulbasaur plushie to her breast. "And that kiss, I mean, wow!"

"Agreed. That was a kiss. Well done."

She bolted upright. "Oh, no! I didn't even think about…I'm sorry, Kate! I must have been sending you all kinds of emotions that you never asked for!"

"It's fine, it's fine," I reassured her. "I was the one who helped set the two of you up in the first place, remember? And if she's such a good kisser that even I feel it—which she is, by the way—I certainly wouldn't begrudge you that, no sirree."

"She is a damn good kisser," Mal agreed.

"And I bet being 15 feet off the ground really elevates the experience!" I added.

She laughed and threw a Sobble plushie at me. I dodged, of course.

"You sure you're okay, though?" she said.

I curled up next to her. "I've told you before that I'm asexual. I'm not really interested in sex or romance. But I'm not repulsed by them either. It's…" I paused, trying to find the right words. "It's…unusual, for me, experiencing secondhand attraction, because it's just…so foreign, you know? It's something I don't normally feel for myself, and on the rare occasions I do, it's never at that kind of strength. So it's strange, to me. But it's not a bad strange. It's somewhere on the scale of neutral to mildly pleasant. And it helps that my mind is able to sort out whose emotions are whose. So…no, it doesn't bother me to share your emotions, even in this."

I paused again. "Unless it bothers you to know that I'm sharing your emotions."

"No…thinking about it, I, uh…it just seems like what's supposed to happen?" She thought for a moment. "I mean, when you get down to it, it's…I mean, the two of us, we're not just linked, we're intertwined, aren't we? We're not like two objects tied together with a rope, we're…we're the rope. Multiple cords, woven so tightly together that they act as one gestalt entity. Like—well, like this Bulbasaur!" She held up her Bulbasaur plushie. "Plant and animal, sharing one soul. Wizard and familiar. That's who we are."

"Except not a plant."

"Right. In the words of Paul McCartney, I am you as you are me as I am we as we are all together. Or was that one John Lennon? Either way, uh…um. Uh. Sorry, I think this line of thought made more sense in my head."

"It's okay. I'm also in your head, so I think I get what you're trying to say."

"Oh. Well! There you have it." She paused. "What am I trying to say?"

"You're trying to say 'Lyra and Pantalaimon,' but you want to frame it in a way that doesn't place me in the more subordinate role." I had been the first one to bring up that comparison the other night, but I was sure she'd thought of it too, and that it was still coloring her thinking now. With our souls bound together, and me in the form of a cat, it wasn't a big leap to get to the bond between humans and daemons in Pullman's opus, which effectively paired them as one gestalt entity in two bodies.

In the books, a daemon is more like a physical incarnation of a human's soul in animal form, and the human is generally represented as the dominant one in the relationship. And that's a pretty typical example of how familiars are represented in fiction overall: helpers, sidekicks, assistants, plucky comic relief, etc. It was a natural place to go; I wasn't offended by it.

"Oh! Well, fuck." She considered it, and sighed. "Yeah, you're right, that is a good summary of where my mind was trying to go. But I really do want to move past that framing to something a little more balanced! I can't just think of you as an extension of myself. Like you said, it places you in a subordinate role, and that undermines your agency in our relationship, you know?"

"Oh, you're absolutely right about that, of course! I just wanted to make sure you knew that I understand and appreciate that internal struggle."

"Thanks."

Some time passed in quiet contemplation as we lay there, touching.

"Hang on a minute," she suddenly said. "You're doing it too, aren't you? You're starting to see yourself as an extension of me! I'm pretty sure that's what I'm sensing!"

Wait. Shit. Was that true?

I thought about it.

Yeah. No. Yeah. It felt like it was at least 70% true. Dammit.

"Shit. You might be right." My tail twitched, and I started pacing across the bed. "It's my naturally easygoing nature, isn't it? Always eager to please, that's me, going along with whatever makes other people happy. Ugh. Ugh!"

Mal crossed her arms. "Well, we better nip that in the bud, because if your sense of individuality ends up accidentally subsumed by mine, I'll be very cross with both of our future selves."

The dry bathos of that statement cut through my frustration with myself and made me chuckle. I sat back down. "But us being a Bulbasaur together is fine, huh?"

"That's different," she said matter-of-factly. "That's balanced. It's okay if it's balanced."

Okay. Problem-solving mode. "So how do we make sure we're balanced, then? Any ideas?"

"Uh…brainstorming…hmm."

She pushed herself up to a sitting position, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, and I scooched up onto her lap. It was practically an automatic reflex for me now. Naturally, she started stroking my fur—which was practically an automatic reflex for her.

"Well, in the worst case scenario, severing our bond would—"

"Nope," I said. "No thanks. Next idea?"

"We could ask Ms. Bellman if she knows any therapists who work with wizards? Maybe with a little bit of professional help…"

I sighed. "Okay, let's, uh…let's call that one a 'maybe.' What about magic? Is there a spell in any of your books that can help with dependency issues?"

"Not for wizards, I'm pretty sure, but there might be a bard spell?"

"So we could ask Marco if he has anything like that."

"Oh, I think I've got an easy fix!" she said excitedly.

"I do like easy fixes! Lay it on me!"

"Okay, so, the past few days there's been a lot of me dragging you around places, right? You've followed me to school, helped me copy new spells, hung out with my friends, you even rode shotgun on my date with Grace. But those are all very Mallory activities. What if we just…switched gears, and had you drag me around for a while? Spend time on something just for you, and let me follow your lead?"

I nodded slowly. That was a good idea. The logic behind it made sense. "That could work," I said. "Did you have any activities in mind?"

Mal rolled her eyes. "Well, this whole exercise depends on you deciding what to do, so…no. I think that would defeat the purpose."

"Ah. Right. Um." The gears turned in my head, and… "I'm drawing a blank. Sorry."

"No worries, I'm sure you'll think of something." Mal sighed. "And if you don't…well, tomorrow morning we should have a chance to chat with Ms. Bellman again. We'll get her advice."

"We have her email. We could contact her now," I pointed out.

Technically, all the faculty at the school had publicly available .edu emails in an online directory, but Sophia gave us her personal email for contacting her about "errantry business," which she preferred to keep separate from her day job where possible.

"Yes, ma'am! I'll do it immediately, ma'am!" Mal saluted.

I stared. "Um. What is that? What are you doing?"

"Putting you in charge, ma'am!" She saluted again.

"Okay, tone it down a little." I sighed. "At ease."

She relaxed, failing to suppress a giggle. "Sorry! But, uh, yeah, I'm making you unofficially the boss of me, as of now. That's carte blanche to order me around. Within reason."

"You don't think that might be overcorrecting at all?" 

"Eh." Mal shrugged. "It's not a big deal. When do I ever say no to you, anyway? Just call it a temporary experiment, if you like."

I gave her a skeptical look, and then sighed again. I actually couldn't think of a time when she had ever denied one of my requests. She'd been deferring to me ever since that first morning.

"Okay. We'll split up to cover more ground," I said. "You go write that email. I'll go play with my scratching post. Aaand break!"

Chapter Text

From: Mallory Avalon
To: Sophia Bellman
CC: Katelyn Winters
Subject: Looking for some Advice

Hi! Probably not too surprising that I have more questions, huh? Hope I'm not a bother.

So, first question. I think that Kate and I might have some…issues…to work out. You know, in the mental health department. I probably shouldn't get into the details, but I'm wondering if you happen to know any good therapists who have experience with magic? Is there anyone you can recommend?

I mean, I think most of my baggage is pretty mundane, and I've actually been to therapy about a lot of it already, but Kate…well, she's a cat. Something tells me an ordinary therapist isn't going to be equipped to handle that.

Second question. About magic items. Is it possible to use magic to create some sort of thaumatic optical enhancement device? Like, for a cat, for example? Asking for a friend. (The friend is Kate. She's nearsighted, and an optometrist for cats seems like an even bigger ask than a therapist for cats.)

Third question. I guess I ought to ask if your research has turned up any solutions to the "stuck as a cat" problem, huh? Thanks again for that bracelet, by the way. We haven't really pushed its limits yet, but Kate was able to stay in human form today for twice her normal duration, with time to spare! I'd love to look through the technical specs for it, assuming you have them in a form I can understand. It's fascinating.

And finally, I wanted you to know that a group of us are putting a D&D campaign together tomorrow afternoon, just for us magical folk. You could join, if you want. We could use a divine caster. You don't have to, though! You're probably busy, and that's okay. Just…letting you know, in case you aren't! 😃

—Mal Avalon

From: Sophia Bellman
To: Mallory Avalon
CC: Katelyn Winters
Subject: Re: Looking for some Advice

Mal:

You're never a bother. Helping the next generation is my favorite part of my job. Both of my jobs!

1. Yes, I know a therapist who has experience with both wizards and nonhumans, including cats, cetaceans, trees, and various extraterrestrials. I'll get in touch and see if we can make you an appointment.

2. I'm afraid that, although wearable spells are a specialty of mine, I'm not well-versed enough in sensory enhancement (and certainly not in optometry) to design what you're asking for with much confidence—at least not from scratch. Do you have any optical enhancement spells of your own? If so, I could help you integrate it into a magic item. (And you're right, I've never heard of an optometrist for cats either.)

3. So far, all I've come up with is a form transferral spell, which I'm pretty sure is not what you're looking for. It would admittedly turn Kate into a human again…at the cost of turning you, Mal, into a cat. Probably not ideal, huh? I'm sorry. But I haven't given up yet; I'll keep looking, I promise.

I've attached the English translation of the technical specs you requested. Hopefully you're able to make sense of it; there are a lot of technical terms that don't really translate well, but I had my Manual add on a glossary file for them, which should help.

4. Oh, I wish I could make it! But, as you correctly guessed, working two full-time jobs doesn't leave me with much spare time for multi-hour TTRPG sessions—at least not during the school year. Thank you for inviting me, Mal! It's very sweet of you, and I really appreciate it!
___

Sophia Bellman, Advisory (she/her/hers)
Sonoma County, California, United States, Northern Hemisphere, Sol III.

📎 spellbattery_04_documentation_eng.zip

From: Mallory Avalon
To: Sophia Bellman
CC: Katelyn Winters
Subject: Re: Re: Looking for some Advice

Hi again!

Thanks so much for your help.

1. Awesome! I look forward to hearing back from them!
2. I don't have a spell like that, but I believe I know another wizard who does. I'll ask her.
3. This info is super helpful! Thank you! Actually, I'd love to hear more about that transferral spell! How does it work, exactly?
4. Ah, well. Maybe I'll ask you again over the summer!

Thanks again. 🥰

—Mal Avalon

From: Sophia Bellman
To: Mallory Avalon
CC: Katelyn Winters
Subject: Form transferral spell

Mal:

Well, the trouble with the transferral spell is it doesn't solve your problem so much as rearrange it. Colloquially, it's known as a "body swap" or "Freaky Friday" spell, although it doesn't put you in the other person's actual body—it just transforms your body to look like theirs, and vice versa.

This version of it was originally invented by two transgender wizards as a way of trading sexes with each other. They had no intention of ever trading back, so they made sure it would be permanent: it can only be reversed by casting the spell again. It's also consent-locked: both participants have to willingly and knowingly agree to the swap. And it always leaves some aspect of each person unchanged—not much, just enough to make it obvious who was originally whom.

So, yeah, obviously not ideal. Unfortunately, every other possible answer I've dug up so far is either a.) redundant with the short-term transformation ability you already have or b.) contraindicated somehow by some inconvenient aspect of the magic that initially transformed you.

Since you asked, I'll attach the details for the Freaky Friday spell. Just think very carefully before attempting anything like this. It's your choice, but I want to be crystal clear that this is not a spell that should be undertaken lightly.

P.S. Is your other wizard friend Hannah Weiss? She approached me after school yesterday with a list of questions about my magic system, and she mentioned that you told her about me. It was a long list of questions.
___

Sophia Bellman, Advisory (she/her/hers)
Sonoma County, California, United States, Northern Hemisphere, Sol III.

📎 freakyfriday_01_documentation_eng.zip

From: Mallory Avalon
To: Sophia Bellman
CC: Katelyn Winters
Subject: Re: Form transferral spell

Thanks yet again! And yes, I'm talking about Hannah. She's the only other wizard I know (my style of wizard, that is), so we copy a lot of spells from each other's books! One of her spells, eyes of the avoral, is supposed to enhance the subject's eyesight.

—Mal Avalon

From: Katelyn Winters
To: Sophia Bellman
CC: Mallory Avalon
Subject: Re: Re: Looking for some Advice

Hi. Sorry. EXTRATERRESTRIALS?!?!

—Kate

Chapter Text

We woke up the following morning, and Mal groaned, rolled into a sitting position, fixed her hair, and took her meds. "Today's…uh…it's Thursday, right?"

"Mhmm," I said sleepily from the foot of the bed. "Clock says so. I think. Can't read so good from here."

She picked up her phone and turned on the screen. "You…are correct. Thursday is today. And I see from my notifications that you got the chance to read that email chain." She yawned and stretched.

I also yawned and stretched. "Fuck, I almost forgot…aliens are real, right? That's what she said?"

"And, uh, trees, also."

"I know that trees are real. I've seen trees. There's…there's one right over there, outside that, you know…uh…that window there." I gestured half-heartedly at the window.

"Talking trees, though. Trees that go to therapy."

"Oh. Right…sorry, I'll be awake in a minute." I hopped off the bed and started doing laps around the furniture. That's some of the best exercise you can get as an indoor cat. Good way to wake up in the morning. Probably. That was the theory I was operating under, anyway. Maybe I just had the zoomies.

"Did you get a chance to study those technical specs?" Mal asked.

We were both starting to wake up at this point. "Yeah. I looked at the documentation for this thingy." I held up the forepaw that had the bracelet. "The, uh, whatchamacallit, maximum capacity? The maximum capacity is higher than I expected. If I don't use it up, I can, like…store a lot of human time in this doodad."

"Haven't gotten to 'em yet…I did look at the specs for the body swap spell, though. It's super interesting."

I jumped back up onto the bed, then onto the top of Mal's head to start a new lap. "Don't tell me. You want to ask her to swap us, so that you can be the cat and I can be the human and we can understand each other's point of view."

"No! Of course not!" Mal said. "No, we don't need her to do it for us, we can swap ourselves, I'm pretty sure."

I gave her a look.

"I looked at the energy requirements, and it's right in line with a 2nd-level spell," she insisted. "Which apparently we can do now. And the way she wrote it is way more precise than the spells are in the D&D books…so…" She yawned again, and I hopped down from her head (mussing up her hair) and jumped from the bed onto her dresser. "...So it should be even easier to copy down, really." 

She fixed her hair again as I jumped back down to the floor to run another lap.

"Mal…we already understand each other's point of view…pretty well, I think, yeah? I've…been a human before…as I'm sure you recall."

I probably sounded a little out of breath from all the running around. It was waking me up, though!

"Look. We were just talking last night about reversing our power dynamic, weren't we? Well, isn't this the perfect spell for doing literally exactly that thing?" she said. "Please slow down a little, you're making me dizzy."

Obediently, I slowed down, settling in front of her mirror, and I absentmindedly started licking myself. Then I froze in place. "Oh," I said slowly. "I'm sorry, I just licked myself, didn't I?"

"It's okay," Mal said gently. "It's just your instincts again. It's fine."

"Yeah. Yeah, it's fine." Was it actually fine? It was probably fine, right? I paused. "Dammit. I stopped in the middle. Now it feels uneven. Like I just washed half my hair."

"Are you okay? You seem…" Mal hesitated. "...Agitated. Is it like yesterday again?"

I hopped back down to the carpet and started pacing. "It's confusing," I complained. "It's like I've got one foot here and the other foot there. And then two other feet that are also somewhere, I guess, because I'm a quadruped. And the thing about it all is, being a cat feels so normal in the here and now. I've already stopped thinking about myself as a human in a cat's body, have you noticed? I am a cat, and I used to be a human. Subtle difference, right?"

"Yeah." Her voice was quiet. "But when you start thinking too hard, looking too closely, you start to feel it. It scrapes at you, that difference. I feel it, Kate. I feel it too. Hey…c'mere."

She beckoned for me to join her back on the bed. I obliged, climbing into her lap. It felt soft, and warm, and safe.

"It's…easier, when we're touching," I said. I closed my eyes, and I let myself feel her hand brushing through my fur, and that pleasant tingling sensation chased away my anxiety. "Easier to make it all fit together, in my mind. It should be terrifying. But you make me feel safe. Thanks."

"I try not to feel guilty," she whispered. "I try. But I can't stop thinking, she didn't choose this, she didn't ask for this. A part of me feels like a jailer, like I've chained you up and kept you here."

"That's not how it is," I said fiercely. "Never."

"But…it's how it feels sometimes. And I wish I could take your place, and wear your chains so that you don't have to. At least for me, it would be a choice. Eyes open, head high."

"Okay, let's…uh…hmm. Mal, we've both gotten very dramatic all of a sudden…can we get, like, a record scratch sound effect in here? Bring us back down to earth?"

"Oh. Sure." Mal waved a hand, and there was a sound like a scratching record. It lightened the mood very nicely.

"Thanks. Look, you don't have to go for the sacrifice play. This isn't a harmless just-for-the-day body swap we're talking about, it's permanent. You'd be—I mean—"

"Sorry, to be clear, I'm not talking about doing it permanently," she interrupted.

"Huh?" I tilted my head.

"Yeah. I figured we could spend a weekend in each other's shoes, and then swap back. A good way to bond."

"But…it's a permanent spell. Actually, it's an instantaneous spell, which is like…even more permanent than a permanent spell."

"True, but I'm a wizard," she pointed out. "I can just cast the spell again later to swap back. A second casting reverses the first, remember?"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. The documentation was really explicit about that. The only actual tricky part is that both of us would need to agree to swap back in order to perform the second casting—that's why it has to be taken so seriously. If you decided you wanted to keep my body, I couldn't stop you; there would be no way for me to change back to normal by myself."

She said it so casually, like it wasn't a horrifying possibility. "And you're okay risking that?" I asked, a little bit boggled.

"Well, yeah. I trust you," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Anyway, what's the worst that can happen? If you're not worried about being my cat for the rest of your life, why should I be worried about being your cat for the rest of my life?"

I didn't have a response for that.

"Exactly," she said.

I hopped down off her lap. "I'll think about it," I declared, "but first, I'm going to finish licking myself."

Chapter Text

Marco was trying to flirt with Mal and me on a bench outside Spanish class during brunch when Hannah skipped up to us, bursting with excitement.

"Hey! Hi! Hello!" she said. "Guess what!"

"Aliens are real?" I replied from atop the shoulder of Mal's jacket.

"You're trying out a new color for your hair?" said Marco. "Which looks beautiful today, by the way."

Hannah's ponytailed hair was a bright shade of turquoise today. Her backpack had also changed color to match, and she'd paired it with a black leather jacket, worn over a graphic tee featuring an image of a smiling cartoon dinosaur sipping from a mug of coffee under a sky full of falling meteors.

"Kate's guess is 'Aliens are real,'" Mal translated.

"Thank you, Marco! And I did recently learn that aliens are real, but that's not the thing," Hannah said.

Marco looked skeptical. "Aliens are real? What?"

"Yeah. Ms. Bellman told me. Did you know there's a magical worldgate in San Francisco that can teleport you to another planet that has like this galactic airport full of other worldgates run by these big centipede-looking aliens who—no, no, I'm getting distracted. I want you to meet…Cocoa! My new familiar! C'mon out, buddy!"

A crow popped out of Hannah's left jacket pocket, landed on her arm, and said, "Yes! Marvel at my splendor! Bask in my glory! Admire my—oh shit, predator!" The crow flapped upwards, perching on a low tree branch behind Hannah. "Look out! Caw! Caw!"

"What? Where?!" I looked around, then looked back. "Wait, do you mean me?" I pointed at myself and tilted my head.

"Calm down, Cocoa, that's just Katelyn. She's friendly," Hannah said soothingly.

"There's no such thing as a friendly cat!" Cocoa replied. "They're heartless, soulless, psychopathic murder machines. They torture and kill for fun!"

"Hey, hang on just a minute!" I protested.

Mal was offended on my behalf. "Katie's not a psychopathic murder machine! She's my familiar. And an accountant!" She crossed her arms. "She likes spreadsheets, midday naps, and musical theater. She's a kind and gentle soul!"

"Thanks, Mal," I said.

"Sorry, he's still getting the hang of manners," said Hannah with a grimace.

"Oh, the cat is yours?" Cocoa cocked his head to one side. "You have it under control, then? You can tell it to stand down?"

Mal rolled her eyes. "Sure. Okay. Katelyn Winters Avalon, by the power that binds us, I command thee to harm nary a feather on yonder bird's back!"

"Works for me," I said. "That beak looks sharp, anyway. I'm not eager to be on the wrong end of it. You can tell him I said so."

"She bows to my command, and she wishes for me to tell the bold Sir Crow that she fears and respects his mighty beak, and would issue no challenge against him or his ilk regardless, lest he prove too formidable a foe for her to conquer," Mal declared.

Marco nodded, impressed. "Nice. Very dramatic. I approve."

"Oh, well, that's alright, then, I suppose." Cocoa fluttered back onto Hannah's shoulder. "Note to self, do not show weakness to the terrifying furry death monster," he muttered.

"Thank you," said Hannah. "Now that that's sorted, Cocoa, these are my friends, Marco, Mal, and Katelyn. Everyone, this is Cocoa."

"That's me! I'm awesome! Check out these feathers! And my incredibly fearsome beak, of course, so strong and sharp that even cats flee from it in craven cowardice!"

See, that was an unnecessary dig, right there. I felt like we weren't getting off on the best foot.

A pair of students turned their heads to stare as they walked by us. "Just practicing my ventriloquism! " Marco called over to them. They seemed to accept the explanation and moved on.

"Well. As long as I can count on you not to start pecking my Katelyn, I'm pleased to meet you, Cocoa," said Mal.

"I, too, am delighted to meet you, Cocoa," said Marco. "And I must tell you, your feathers are indeed a magnificent shade of black. If it's not too forward of me to say so, you may be the most beautiful bird I've ever seen."

Cocoa puffed up with pride at the shameless flattery. "Damn straight!"

"So, you're definitely a crow," Mal said, tentatively.

"Of course I am," Cocoa replied. "Haven't you seen a crow before? Do you take me for a raven, sir?"

"That would be ma'am, not sir," Hannah corrected.

"Oh. How can you tell who's what? This human language of yours doesn't gender its verbs properly."

"I'll give you some tips later. But yes, Mal, I can confirm, he is definitely a crow, and not anyone or anything else turned into a crow. The spell worked as advertised!" Hannah flashed us a thumbs-up.

Mal felt relieved. "Glad to hear that."

"Most of human gender expression is deeply rooted in our culture and traditions," Marco explained. "It's quite complicated. But a good shorthand for a newbie is that humans with facial hair are probably male, and humans with large mammary glands are probably female. Usually. Mostly."

"So what are you? You don't have either," the crow pointed out. "Unless you're talking about the hairy stripes above your eyes, but I'm pretty sure you all have those."

"I'm a male. But I'm still a juvenile, so I'm not old enough to grow a proper beard yet."

"Cool." Cocoa looked down at Hannah's chest, and then at Mal's, and then back to Hannah's. "Mammary glands, huh? So that's what those are. Wow, Hannah, yours are waaay bigger than—"

"Will you be joining our Dungeons & Dragons campaign tonight, Cocoa?" asked Mal, deftly changing the subject.

"Nope!" came the cheerful reply from the bird. "Hannah told me about your imaginary math game. Sounds boring!"

Marco and Mal both gasped. "Blasphemy!" said Marco.

Hannah grimaced. "I know, I know. He and I aren't exactly, uh, in sync on this point. But, I mean, whatever, right? We don't have to have all the same interests to be friends!"

"It's true, you don't," I said. "That's a very mature attitude, Hannah. Good for you."

Mal was still somewhat scandalized by Cocoa's slight against her hobby/profession/way of life, but she dutifully relayed my words.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," said the crow, "but…I agree with the murder beast? Wow, it feels so strange to put those words in that order. Are we really, truly, seriously on the same side, cat?"

"Her name is Katelyn, not 'Cat' or 'Murder Beast,'" Mal reminded him. "And yes, we're all on the same side. Really, truly, seriously."

I nodded. "And I'll have you know, I'm against murder. Scavenging for meat is much more ethical."

"She also says she's against murder, and scavenging for meat is much more ethical. Wait, when do you scavenge for meat, Kate?"

"What, did you think I personally killed that can of tuna?"

"Oh, sure, I guess you could argue that that counts."

Cocoa was clearly flabbergasted. "What? Against murder?! Are you sure you're a cat?"

I wasn't sure I was a cat. That was sort of the prevailing existential crisis these days. But I didn't feel the need to go into any of that right now. Instead, I lifted my head proudly and said, "Meow."

"That's not something for me to translate, it's just 'meow,'" Mal clarified.

"Well, that sounds like the sort of thing a cat would say," Cocoa admitted. "Okay, fair enough, I'm convinced! Can't argue with that."

"He'll get used to you, Kate," Hannah said confidently. "But hey! What's new with you? Didn't you have a date last night, Mal?"

Mal smiled. "I did, and it was very romantic! And a bit of a long story. There were some level-ups involved."

Hannah's eyes widened. "Level-ups?!"

"She gave me the 'long story' line too," Marco said. "Mal, I understand that you don't want to kiss and tell, but we're talking about level-ups here! C'mooon, pretty please tell us?"

"Yeah! Pretty please?" Hannah said, giving us her best puppy-dog eyes.

"Well…" said Mal reluctantly, "I guess I can tell you that Grace leveled up, like…a lot. Like, seriously a lot. Enough that her dads are making her stay home from school today to sort out a few things."

"What things?" Hannah asked.

"She mentioned malaria shots?" Mal said, scratching her head.

Cocoa ruffled his wings impatiently. "This conversation is no longer about me for some reason. Can we go back to how great I am?"

Before anyone could answer, the bell rang to signal the end of brunch. It was time to head to class.

Mal stood up and donned her backpack. "Anyway, like I said, long story, but she said she's still going to be at our Session Zero later today, so I'm sure she'll tell you all about it, and until then, why spoil the surprise, right?" She winked.

"We leveled up too," I reminded her.

"Oh, right! And Kate and I think we might be ready for 2nd level spells, too! We're gonna start working on one tonight!"

"Oh. Em. Gee! Teach me, teach me!" squealed Hannah. She bounced up and down with excitement, much to the chagrin of the feathered familiar on her shoulder, who was now being overshadowed and bounced up and down. He gave her a wounded look, and she settled down.

"Later," Mal promised.

Marco swung his backpack onto his back with a flourish and a bow. "Later indeed, my fairest friends, until we meet again after school—if my heart can only bear to wait so long." He strode away, then paused to spin back around and blow us a kiss before continuing onward.

Mal watched him go and laughed at the theatricality. "He's such a bard sometimes."

"No, I'm a bird," Cocoa explained. "He's a human."

"I gotta go too," Hannah said. "But we're putting a pin in this! I have ways of making you talk, Mal!" She nodded at Cocoa and held her left hand next to her jacket pocket. "C'mon, buddy, back in the pocket for now."

"Why would she say he's a bird? Can't she tell our species apart? Is it a human metaphor or something?" muttered Cocoa as he hopped along Hannah's arm and back into her pocket. There was no visible bulge—she must have cast a Familiar Pocket spell of her own.

The two girls waved to each other and then parted ways.

Chapter Text

When we arrived at home after school, we found Thomas working in his garden. "Ah, you're back!" he said, looking up to give us a wave. "Hello, girls! Katelyn, a large package came for you while you were gone, from someone named Isabella Jimenez. Do you know what it is?"

"Yes! Yes I do!" I said, nodding excitedly. It was the care package Izzy said she would send me! "Mal! Help me unbox it?"

"Absolutely I'll help you unbox it, Kate!" said Mal. "Dad, where'd you leave it?"

"It's just inside the front door. Try not to make too much noise, though. Your mom's in a meeting."

Thistle had a home office that she used for remote work. It was one of the few rooms in the house now where the door wasn't always left open a crack for my benefit. It wasn't that she didn't want me going in there—she trusted me not to mess up her things, and if a cat showed up behind her during a Zoom call, it wasn't the end of the world. She just needed to keep the door shut sometimes to minimize background noise from the rest of the house, that's all.

We hustled inside, and Mal dragged the large box over to the living room floor. I leapt up onto the box, used my claws to tear the packaging tape, and then climbed onto a perch on my cat tree where I had a good view.

To my delight, Izzy had sent over all of my textbooks, my ID and credit cards, and the copy of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter that she found next to my bed with a bookmark a third of the way through. There were also some clothes, toiletries, and the like, and of course some bubble wrap to cushion it all during shipping.

In addition to my own stuff, there was also a small gift box wrapped up with a bow, with a handwritten card taped to it. Mal handed me the card so that I could read it. It said:

Dear Bestie,

I hope that having some of your things back helps you to feel more like yourself, even in those times where you may not be sure what that means. Also, I hope you get a kick out of this present that I picked out for you.

Stay strong. Stay weird. I miss you. ❤️

—Izzy

"Aww! That's really sweet of her!" Mal said. She held up the gift-wrapped box. "You ready to unwrap the present?"

In lieu of a verbal response, I crouched down, twitched my tail, and then pounced.

"Eep!" Mal exclaimed, dropping the box. That was what I was anticipating, and I intercepted it in midair as I tackled it to the floor next to her.

Gleefully, I started shredding the wrapping. "Rawr! Hahaha!"

"You startled me! But also, woah. Nice aim."

"Thanks. Boy, whatever is in here smells fantastic! Are you smelling this too?"

"Not really." Mal leaned in to look as I finished tearing open the box. Inside were two plushies in the shape of six-sided dice. They smelled pretty! "Ooh, those are really cute! I wonder if there are d20 versions too. Hmm." She sniffed. "Is it kind of an herbal smell?"

I was already batting enthusiastically at my new toys. One of the dice rolled across the room, and I pounced on it. "Hahaha, wheeee!"

"Ah. They're stuffed with catnip, aren't they."

"I'm inebriated! Hooray!"

"And let me guess," she continued, "now that everything is unpacked, you're going to want to play in the empty box and pop the bubble wrap."

I gasped. That was an incredible idea! She was really smart! "Yes! Can I?!"

She laughed. (She had a nice laugh! It was like…um…like…like the laugh of someone with a really nice laugh!) "Go for it, Katie. Enjoy the simple pleasures."

"Yay!"

When the effects eventually wore off, I found myself lying in the box with a lampshade on top of me.

"Coming out of it?" said Mal's voice from above me somewhere.

"...Why, uh, why am I wearing a lampshade?" I asked slowly.

"You asked for it, remember? You said you were feeling lightheaded."

"Oh." I pushed it off of me, then jumped out of the box, landing on my feet in a very dignified and elegant fashion, probably. "Okay, so, we've learned that exposure to catnip causes me to revert to some very old-fashioned prop-based jokes."

"Yup! And I took photos! See, look!" She showed me the camera roll on her smartphone. There were about a dozen adorable pictures and several adorable videos of me.

Right. It was all coming back to me now. The catnip had made me more affectionate while also lowering my inhibitions. There had been a lot of purring and frolicking and mediocre puns. I remembered saying "I love you" to Mal, and also to my scratching post, and the cardboard box, and the books, and the door to Thistle's home office, and an "I love you most of all!" to my celebrity crush, 13th-century Florentine merchant Amatino Manucci.

"Okay, so, that happened," I said.

Mal nodded. "Yes, and it seemed like you were having fun before you dozed off at the end there."

"How long was I asleep?"

"Not long. Only a few minutes. We've still got a solid half hour before we're due to head out to Marco's house for D&D."

"Ah. Good. In that case, I'm going to email Izzy a thank-you note. And I'm definitely attaching that footage to it."

Chapter Text

Marco lived in Forestville, an even smaller town just to the north of Sebastopol. There was a bike trail connecting the two, which made it an easy trip for us.

Hannah had gotten there before us—her car was already parked on the curb. However, Grace arrived around the same time we did. Which is to say that I popped my head out of my pocket dimension once I felt Mal come to a stop, and I was just in time to see a winged humanoid fly over our heads and crash into the top of a redwood tree, shaking a flurry of needles loose below her.

"I meant to do that," Grace declared. She was clutching the trunk with both arms and steadfastly refusing to look down. The tree she was in was at least twice as tall as Marco's house.

"Are you okay up there, Grace?" I yelled.

"I'm fine. Totally fine," she muttered. "This is fine. I'm okay with the events that are unfolding."

"What did she say? I didn't hear," Mal asked me.

"She said she's fine, in the sort of tone you use when you're not fine."

"I have a Feather Fall prepared!" Mal called up at Grace. "I can catch you!"

"No, I got this! Let me just—"

Grace leapt off of the treetop and stretched her wings out, pulling into a glide. For a moment, it looked like she would pull off the landing, but the angle was wrong, and she stalled out halfway down and began to fall. "Eep!"

"I call upon the power of Feather Fall!" Mal blurted out.

Grace floated gently the rest of the way down and landed in a crouch about ten feet away from us, panting heavily. "I'm okay!" she announced.

"You sure? I can't tell, you're all blurry…" Mal said, with a note of worry. Grace must have had a blurring glamer on. I focused my aura vision, and…yep, that let me see the edges of the illusion, enough to get a sense of what it was supposed to look like. (It looked like blurriness.)

"Yup!" Grace replied in between breaths. "No sweat! Totally, uh…totally getting the hang…getting the hang of landing…definitely…" She glanced at the number on the mailbox to confirm that we were at the right address, then walked up to ring the doorbell.

Marco answered, and whatever clever remark he had prepared died in his throat when he saw Grace's blurry silhouette. "Ah…um…"

He was obviously thrown for a loop.

"Hi, Marco," Grace said.

"Hi, Marco," Mal added from behind her, waving hello.

"Right! Yes! Grace! Of course! And Mal. Hello! Uh, come in, ladies! You can, uh, leave your shoes there by the door…"

He led us to the dining room. Hannah was already seated, watching Cocoa as he availed himself of a bowl of mixed nuts and fruits placed at the center of the simple wooden dinner table. She looked up as we arrived, and made a confused face. "Why are you censored?"

"Oh! Sorry, I almost forgot!" said Grace. "Or, uh, maybe it was totally on purpose so that it would be a dramatic reveal! You'll never know and you can't prove anything!" She dismissed the glamer.

Hannah and Marco both stared with a mix of shock and delight.

"Are those real?" Hannah choked.

"Yep!" said Grace. "I just flew in from Sebastopol, and boy, are my wings tired!"

"They're magnificent," breathed Marco. "How did you…"

"Um. So. Short version. My patron teleported me to the rainforest. I did a quest, sort of. And then he gave me wings and illusion powers and teleported me home!"

"Was he a couatl, like I guessed?"

"Oh, he was, yeah, you were 100% on the money on that. Kudos!"

"Wow," Hannah said.

"What's so impressive?" Cocoa demanded. "Is this about her wings? I don't remember any of you reacting this way to my wings."

"In fairness, lil' buddy, her wings are bigger and sparklier than yours."

He sighed, and looked forlornly at his own wings. "I guess that's true."

Grace sat down in front of Cocoa. "I think your wings are pretty cool, too," she said conspiratorially. "Hi. My name's Grace. What's yours?"

Cocoa puffed up at the flattery. "My name is Caa-Caow! Or Cocoa, if that's easier for you to pronounce with your non-avian vocal anatomy. And this is my bonded human, Hannah!"

"Pleased to meet you, Cocoa! I've met Hannah before, but I didn't realize she came with a crow attached."

"He's my new familiar," Hannah explained. "I only just conjured him last night."

"If I'd known what good pets humans make, I would have gotten one ages ago," Cocoa added.

"Speaking of which," said Marco, "Katelyn, did you want to transform, or are you more comfortable as you are?"

"Ah, right," I said, hopping down to the floor. "Yeah, hang on, let me just…by my true self, transform."

I heard a startled "Caw!" from the table as I finished my transformation sequence. "The cat is a human now?!" Cocoa exclaimed.

"Meow!" I said cheerfully, sitting down next to Grace. He flapped back onto Hannah's shoulder, startled. "Oh, don't be like that," I added, pushing my glasses up my nose. "I told you before, I'm not going to attack you." I picked a large piece of dried apple out of the bowl of trail mix and popped it in my mouth.

"She talks!"

"Of course she talks," said Mal, taking the seat next to me. "Don't you remember me translating for her earlier?"

"Well, yeah, but I just figured you were, I don't know, reading her body language or something."

Hannah gave him an apologetic look. "That's on me. I probably should have mentioned her human heritage earlier."

"You knew about this?!"

"Most cats talk, you know," Grace remarked, as Hannah took a minute to explain my backstory to Cocoa. "They have their own language. It's a mix of body language and subvocalizations, with a lot of tonal elements and like three dozen different vowel sounds. I can't pronounce a word of it."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yup! I once tried to say 'I would like a drink of milk' in Ailurin, just to try it, and apparently it came out as 'I'm going to feed the litterbox to the taxicab,' which, uh, my cats found very amusing."

"No, I mean, is that what I sound like? Have I been speaking 'Ailurin' this whole time?"

"Yeah. You have a really thick accent, though. I should have realized right away that you were a non-native speaker."

"Fascinating!" said Mal. "So, wait, how does your Speak with Animals ability work, exactly? It sounds like it's different from the way I hear Kate."

"Well…"

The two of them started talking past me about interspecies linguistics. I leaned forward and turned to Cocoa. "So, anyway, how are you liking it so far? Being a familiar, I mean."

"Oh, it seems great," he replied. "Having a human waiting on your every need is much safer and easier than sleeping outside and foraging for food. And I actually like this human, too," he added. "She's got spunk."

"Aww, I like you too!" said Hannah.

He puffed himself up proudly. "Yep! I'm very likeable!"

I nodded. "It's a pretty sweet gig, all things considered. Takes some getting used to, though."

"True. Does your wizard keep you a secret from the rest of her house, too?"

"No! Hannah, how the hell are you managing to hide a familiar from your family?"

She grimaced. "Poorly, that's how. I installed a birdhouse on my windowsill and draped a cloth over it."

"That's probably not going to hold for long," I observed.

"I know, I know. Any ideas?"

"How do you think they'd react if you told them the truth?"

"Honestly? I think half the town would know I'm a wizard by the end of the week. My family is very bad at keeping secrets."

"Maybe that's fine?" I suggested. "I mean, is anyone going to believe them without seeing proof?" I grabbed another handful of trail mix and chewed on it thoughtfully.

"You could try my strategy," Marco chimed in. "Learn stage magic and show it off every now and then so that everyone assumes your real magic is some kind of trick." I'd almost forgotten he was there; he'd been taking advantage of the time we were spending snacking and chatting so that he could set up his materials for the game.

Hannah made a face. "Yeah, but then people will think I'm a magician. That's even worse!"

An illusion of a miniature section of picket fence suddenly appeared on the table in front of Hannah. Marco reached out and snatched it away. "I take a fence at that," he said with a grin.

Groans sounded from around the table.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there were four people who did not yet know that they were destined to become heroes.

Magala of the Great Worm hailed from the frosty Ice Spire mountains in the world of Toril, where her tribe eked out a harsh and brutal existence. Magala belonged to the Uthgardt people, but she was more than human: she also bore in her the blood of the great Frost Giants, and her size and strength made her a mighty warrior—and an even mightier wrestler. She loved her family and her tribe, but she longed for the chance to truly prove herself in the wider world.

"So you went with half-giant?" Mal asked.

Hannah shook her head. "No, my idea is that she's, like, one-eighth giant, or roundabouts. I'm representing that as a neanderthal with the Jotunbrud feat."

Bree Ghallanda hailed from the Shadow Marches in the world of Eberron, where she worked as an Inquisitive in the city of Zarash'ak. Sure, her extended family may have owned more than half the inns and taverns on the whole Sovereigns-damned continent, but in Bree's experience, that wealth rarely trickled down to the low-ranking cadet branches of the house, and if you weren't lucky enough to bear House Ghallanda's hereditary Mark of Hospitality, well, sometimes, like Bree, you found yourself in a stinking marsh town, drowning in debt, taking on whatever stinking jobs were left after the stinking Inquisitives from House Tharashk took all the best stinking clients.

"Wow, your halfling sure has a lot of backstory," Grace remarked.

"There's a lot more where that came from," Mal said proudly. "I've got five whole pages of lore. And I included footnotes with book and page references for relevant canonical information about the Eberron setting."

"It's possible she may have hyperfixated just a little bit," I added.

Marco steepled his fingers together. "I can work with this."

Fiora of the Fire Elves hailed from the world of Greyhawk, where she traveled all across the land as a hedge wizard alongside her faithful mule, Bartholo-mule, and her bat familiar, Eliza-bat-th—although for the time being, she'd parked her cart in the bustling seaside town of Saltmarsh, in hopes of swapping spells with a local wizard of some renown, and possibly doing some more mundane trading as well.

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "'Bartholo-mule' and 'Eliza-bat-th'?

"What?" I said innocently. "Those are very common names for mules and bats, probably!"

Mal put her head in her hands.

Grace Berry hailed from—

"I'm sorry," Grace said. "I sort of came in with the idea of making my character a direct avatar of myself. But now that I'm staring at it, I don't know if I want to use my own backstory for her. I think it might hit a little too close to home."

"Don't worry about it," Marco said gently. "Why don't we put a pin in your character's backstory for later? We can work it out as we go."

"Thanks, Marco."

Grace Berry was a warlock with an enigmatic past. Her origins were shrouded in mystery—even to herself. All she knew for now was that she had somehow found her way into an adventure, and her fate would soon be forever changed.

Each of our heroes, in the course of their own individual jobs, soon stumbled upon a large boulder composed of a strange pink crystal. Magala discovered one hidden in an ice cave. Bree encountered one in the swamp while tailing a mark. Fiora found one washed up on the beach. And Grace only had a faint memory of finding hers. None of them realized until it was too late that in touching the crystals, they'd become bound to a lost fragment of the legendary Radiant Citadel.

"What, you mean like the lost tower of Urithiru?" I asked, confused.

"No, that's not a thing in this campaign. But you all can roll a Knowledge (The Planes) check, if your character is trained in the skill," Marco replied.

"I am not," Grace announced.

"Me neither," said Mal.

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "Well, don't look at me; Magala isn't even literate. Kate, does your character have Knowledge (The Planes)?"

"Yep, I've got a +8 bonus to it," I said. I picked up a d20 from the dice set I shared with Mal, and I gave it a roll. "Total of 22!"

None of them realized until it was too late that in touching the crystals, they'd become bound to a lost fragment of the legendary Radiant Citadel…except for Fiora, who immediately recognized the crystal for what it was. She knew that the Radiant Citadel was a floating fortress in the Ethereal Plane, orbited by a series of massive gemstones known as the Concord Jewels that enabled travel to and from different planes of existence. However, it had been lost for generations.

This, of course, explained why our heroes blacked out and then woke up, together, on a large platform of hard stone.

"What about Bartholo-mule and Eliza-bat-th? Did they make it through too?" I asked.

…Our heroes (and their various animal friends) all blacked out and then woke up, together, on a large platform of hard stone. In the center of the platform was a diamond core that appeared to have been partially shattered.

Marco waved his hands, and a three-dimensional illusion of the scene in miniature floated above the table, complete with images of our characters: a tall, beefy version of Hannah wearing a hiker's backpack and warm fur clothing, with a slight blue tinge to her skin; a hobbit version of Mal, about half the size of everyone else, wearing a brown leather duster and a fedora; a leaner and more wiry version of my human self, with flaming orange hair and ashen-gray skin, dressed in wizard's robes and accompanied by a bat and a pack mule; and a wingless version of Grace who otherwise looked exactly like her.

All of them stood on a stone disc pierced in the center by a large biconical diamond and orbited by hunks of pink crystal. A grid was overlayed over the terrain to represent the standard five-foot squares used for combat positioning; each of our characters occupied a different square. The image was static for now, but I knew from reading Mal's books that the caster of an illusion like this could concentrate to make it move.

"Ow," said Bree. "Anyone get the serial number of the lightning rail car that just ran me over?"

"Fascinating!" Fiora breathed, looking around. "This is something out of a myth! Is that really the Auroral Diamond, or is it just a splinter? Lisa, come see!"

"Squeak squeak!" Eliza-bat-th replied.

"Who are you people? Where am I? How did I get here?" said Grace.

Bree patted Grace reassuringly. "Don't panic, whoever you are. We'll figure this out and get us all back home."

"...Where's home?" Grace asked.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I live in Zarash'ak. The name's Bree. I'm an Inquisitive."

"My name's Grace. What's an Inquisitive?"

Bree raised an eyebrow. "A private investigator? Every human in Khorvaire oughta know that. Where're you from, Sarlona or somethin'?"

"I…I don't remember. I'm sorry."

"I'm Magala," said Magala, rubbing her eyes. "Where in the Nine Hells is Khorvaire? I've never heard of it! Is this a dream?"

"Khorvaire? The most populous continent on Eberron? Home to the Five Nations of Galifar? Sovereigns and Six, Magala, did you lose your memory too?"

"Eberron? Galifar? Now you're just making up words."

"Fascinating!" Fiora turned toward the others. "I, too, have never heard of the places of which you speak. But the legends say that the lost Radiant Citadel could use gems like these to facilitate travel between worlds! Perhaps we are from different planets altogether! I come from the world of Oerth, or 'Greyhawk' as we sometimes call it colloquially. My name is Fiora, and this bat here is my companion, Eliza-bat-th."

"This all seems a bit suspicious to me," said Bree. "If you all don't mind, I'm going to snoop around and look for some clues."

"I'll take 10 on a Search check, using my Investigate feat," Mal said. "That means I don't need to roll; I get a 16."

Marco nodded and directed the illusory image of Bree to move around in a sleuthy fashion.

Bree examined the area and noticed a hidden panel disguised as part of a rock formation near the central diamond.

"I'll check the panel for traps." A rolling die clattered across the table. "That's a total of 12 for trapfinding. Not amazing. But I'll open it anyway, if I can."

Bree examined the panel carefully, finding no indication of a trap, and then shrugged and popped it open. As soon as she did, a pleasant voice spoke: "Thank you for choosing the Radiant Quest! My name is Companion Spirit 5A-XX, and I'll be your companion spirit for this quest! How can I assist you?"

"Incredible!" said Fiora. "What sort of spirit are you? Are you connected to this place?"

"I am a type-XX undefined companion spirit linked to Radiant Shard 5A," the spirit replied. "My characteristic functions are non-operational due to damage sustained by the central diamond matrix. However, I am pleased to assist however I can with any questions or concerns you may have!"

"Where are we?" Grace asked. "What is this place?"

"You are on Radiant Shard 5A! Current location: Deep Ethereal, coordinates 552.78 by 63.20 by 803.05!"

Magala bowed respectfully to the voice. "Why have we been brought here, o Spirit of Five Axes?"

"It's 5A-XX, not Five Axes," the spirit said. "You have all been bound to the Radiant Quest! Now that you've arrived at Shard 5A, it is your mission to repair the Shard and restore it to its full functionality so that it may serve its purpose once more!"

"Woah, hold on, Fivey, I didn't agree to any quest," Bree said indignantly. "Not without my fee! 2 gp a day plus expenses!"

"It's 5A-XX, not 5E," the spirit reiterated. "And you agreed to the Quest when you accepted the transport! It's all very standard."

Fiora spoke up. "Bree, do you have any idea how valuable this place is, even in this dilapidated state? How much more valuable it will be, once it's restored? I'd say a sight more than 2 gp a day plus expenses! This is prime real estate!"

With Fiora's knowledge of the arcane, she understood that there was immense magical potential in this location. With her mercantile background, she also understood that that magical potential also represented a tremendous financial opportunity.

"Looks like a barren rock to me," said Magala.

"Companion Spirit 5A-XX, would you please brief us on the functions of this place and the actions needed in order to restore them?" said Grace.

"Certainly! Primary critical functions include shielding, sustenance, local navigation, interplanar navigation, scanners, and user interface. That's me! I'm the user interface! Secondary functions include healing, fabrication, communications, and defensive weaponry! Currently all secondary functions are offline, and all primary critical functions are operating at reduced capacity. Restoration requires the integration of Auroral Fragments into the central diamond matrix!"

"So we need to find these MacGuffins Auroral Fragments and bring them back here, and if we do, we'll have access to a mobile base with cool magic powers," Grace summarized.

"Correct!"

"And where might these Auroral Fragments be?"

"Scattered across all the planes of existence!"

"Ooh, exciting!" said Magala. "I always wanted to see all the planes of existence!"

Bree groaned. "Listen, Companion Spirit 5A-XX, I can't just drop everything and go on an interplanar scavenger hunt. You should know that I owe a lot of money to some not-so-nice people who…" She paused and thought for a moment. "…Who can't travel between planes…on second thought, Zarash'ak is a shithole anyway! Let's go plane-hopping!"

"Sure, I'm in," said Grace. "Let's do it."

"As am I! I'd be a fool to pass up an opportunity like this," Fiora declared.

"So be it," Companion Spirit 5A-XX said. "You shall be the Fellowship of Radiant Shard 5A!"

Our heroes exchanged glances. "Is, uh, is that team name set in stone?" Grace asked.

"Team name override function is currently non-operational!" the spirit replied cheerfully.

Chapter Text

"So, where can we find one of these Auroral Fragments, hmm?" Bree asked. "Is there one on Eberron?"

"Scanners and navigation are operating at reduced capacity," said the companion spirit. "Interplanar navigation systems are locked onto the approximate location of the closest Auroral Fragment. Details about the location are unavailable. Danger levels are unknown. All other navigation is offline."

"Then it's off into the unknown!" said Magala. She was pleased to have the opportunity to explore uncharted lands.

The others were somewhat less pleased at the notion of going in blind. But it seemed like there wasn't much choice.

"Welp, guess we're going in blind! It doesn't seem like there's much choice," Grace said. "How do we do this?"

"The Concord Jewel will transport you! Would you like me to activate it?" said Companion Spirit 5A-XX.

"I vote yes!" said Magala.

"All in favor?" Fiora said, raising a hand. Three other hands went up (as did one bat wing). "The ayes have it! Let's go!"

A soft light pulsed, and the chunks of crystal orbiting Radiant Shard 5A floated together to form a hollow vessel about the size of a small house. The party filed inside.

"How does this work, exactly?" Bree asked, examining the interior of the structure with curiosity. It was bare, unfurnished, but the temperature was comfortable, and there was plenty of space. The crystal was translucent, affording the occupants a pink-tinted view of their surroundings through the walls.

"Simply provide verbal confirmation when you are aboard and ready for transport procedures!" Companion Spirit 5A-XX said.

"I don't think we're getting any readier," Grace said hesitantly.

"Transport initiated! Target destination: unknown!"

Radiant Shard 5A vanished, and suddenly our heroes heard the sound of crashing waves and squawking seagulls. The Concord Jewel was balanced on a rocky island barely big enough to support it, right in the middle of a quiet bay off of an unknown shoreline.

About 50 feet away was another, smaller rock jutting out of the water. Seagulls crowded on top of it.

"Woah!" Magala exclaimed. "I've never seen this much liquid water in one place before!"

"...Where's the Fragment?" Bree asked.

"Roll Spot checks, please, everyone!"

Dice clattered on the table. The highest result was a 19 from Mal's character.

"Oh, there it is!" said Bree, pointing at the other rock, where a glimmer of reflected sunlight marked the location of a shiny object. "Anyone know how to swim?"

No one in the party knew how to swim.

"I mean, how hard could it be?" Magala said with a shrug.

"We could ask the seagulls to bring it over," Grace suggested. "I bet they'd be willing to trade."

Cocoa scoffed. "Getting a seagull to give up a shiny object? Now that's a fantasy!"

"I'll admit, they're not the brightest birds in the tree, but they'll do anything for a french fry," Grace countered. "They can absolutely be bribed."

"You can certainly try," Marco said. "Your character has the wild empathy ability and can speak with animals. Are there any suitable bribes in her inventory?"

Grace checked her character sheet. "I have some rations. Will those work?"

"Sure. I'll give you a +2 circumstance bonus on your check. Give it a go!"

"Yoo-hoo, seagulls!" called Grace. "Any of you willing to do me a favor in exchange for a delicious prize?"

She rolled the die. "20 on the die! The highest possible result!"

"Woo! Nicely rolled!" I cheered.

"Does this mean the plan works?" said Grace with a grin.

Marco steepled his fingers. "...Yes. Yes it does."

Several of the seagulls flapped their way over to the Concord Jewel. After a brief round of negotiations, not only did the seagulls agree to trade the Fragment for Grace's rations, they actually began to fight one another over who would have the honor.

"Okay, that does sound like the sort of thing seagulls would do," Cocoa admitted.

"Pick me," said Rectangull, the strongest of the seagulls. "I am the strongest of the seagulls! These others may not be able to lift your shiny thing, but I can, and I will deliver it to you without fail!"

"No, pick me!" said Jingull, the most musical of the seagulls. "I am the most musical of the seagulls, and I will sing you a beautiful song in thanks for your reward!"

"Pick me!" said Haggull, the seagull with the most skill at trading and bargaining. "I am skilled at trading and bargaining, and I can make you the best offer! I'll toss in a shiny bit of metal and a cool-looking shell, too."

"No, you should pick me," said Snuggull, the cutest of the seagulls. "I am the cutest of the seagulls. Look how cute I am! Don't you want to give me food?"

"No, pick me!" said Baygull, the hungriest of the seagulls. "I am the hungriest of the seagulls, and I will appreciate your reward the most! Also, I will give you a good review on Seagull Yelp."

"Pick me!" said Sméagull, the craftiest and wickedest of the seagulls, "or I will poop on your head."

"I guess you probably aren't going to pick me," sighed Scraggull, the ugliest and least loved of all the seagulls. "Nobody ever picks me. I'll just go away now."

"Awww! Poor Scraggull! You gotta pick them now, Grace!" said Hannah.

Mal crossed her arms. "Scraggull is just playing for sympathy. Very transparent. I think Rectangull has a more logical argument. That's who I would pick."

"Well, I'd pick Haggull, personally," I commented. "That's a seagull after my own heart right there. But I will say I like the names you came up with for them, Marco."

Marco winked.

"This seems like a very low-stakes dilemma," said Grace. "Can't I just give rations to all of them? I have 10 days' worth in my inventory and it seems like it's pretty cheap to restock. Then everyone will be happy."

"Cutting the Gordian knot, eh? I'll allow it," Marco said.

"Okay, then, I'll do that!"

Grace, feeling generous, decided to feed all of the seagulls so long as one of them successfully carried the Fragment to her. All the seagulls looked at Rectangull, who grunted and ferried it across, dropping it in her hands. Then Grace handed out food to each of them, and they all immediately began fighting over it.

Scraggull, however, wasn't in the mood to fight, and abandoned the food with a forlorn seagull sigh as soon as it was contested. He turned to Grace. "I don't suppose I could come away with you? All the other seagulls make fun of me for being ugly, but you seem very nice. Maybe we could be friends?"

"Awww!" breathed Hannah.

"Do we want a party mascot?" Grace asked the table.

"We have a bat and a mule already," I pointed out. "But I think we can support a decent-sized squad on our base."

Mal shrugged. "You never know when an extra NPC ally will come in handy. Maybe a future mission will involve locating and stealing french fries."

"Yay for mascots!" said Hannah.

"Sure, you can come with us," Grace told the sad seagull. "There probably won't be any fish, but I promise none of us will make fun of you."

"Thank you, human friend. By the way, does your organization offer health insurance? I'm supposed to be on seagull antidepressants, but you know what seagull prescription drug prices are like these days. They charge you a wing and a leg."

"Companion Spirit 5A-XX, can our base produce seagull antidepressants?" Grace said to the air.

"Pharmaceutical fabrication functionality is currently unavailable!" said the voice of Companion Spirit 5A-XX in reply. "Functionality can be restored with Auroral Fragments!"

"Thanks. Scraggull, we can't do that yet, but I think we'll be able to in the near future, probably."

Meanwhile, Fiora examined the Auroral Fragment. "What a gorgeous thing," she said admiringly. "Shall we go back and see what happens when we return it?"

"Yes, let's!" said Magala.

And so, our heroes (and their animal friends, now greater in number than when they first left) reactivated the Concord Jewel and found themselves back at Radiant Shard 5A, where they returned the Auroral Fragment to its rightful place. With the heart of the Shard beginning to mend, the landscape reshaped itself. New structures arose out of nothing, and the formerly barren slab of rock now felt as though it were infused with magic and life.

"Okay, so, everyone go ahead and gain 1,000 experience points and 900 gold pieces, and you can level up to level 2! And before you say anything, I know that was an easy one," Marco said, dismissing the illusion. "I'm only lobbing you a softball for session zero. Next week's session will be more challenging!"

He did say that he planned to have us level up quickly, so kicking the party up a level basically immediately after establishing the core premise of the campaign made sense.

"Time to multiclass!" Hannah announced. "But do I want to go into fighter, ranger, or warblade first? Hmm."

"Can I borrow the book for the warlock class progression?" asked Grace. Marco had his copy of Complete Arcane handy already, and passed it across the table to her. "Thanks," she said.

"No problem. I figured I'd allot some extra time in the session to level up together."

While Mal consulted her notes to double-check the plan she had for her character's next several level-ups, I checked the thaumatic storage device on my wrist. I'd been in human form long enough to tap into its reserves. Thanks to the documentation that Sophia had emailed us, I had a much better sense of how to assess its status, and the color and temperature told me that I had a comfortable buffer remaining.

"I can hold a pencil for a while longer," I reported. "Long enough to level up, at least. Where can we spend our 900 gp?"

"Now that your characters found the first Fragment, the Shard can fabricate any item with a listed market price of 400 gp or less in exchange for an equivalent amount of gold or gems. I have a handout with the full upgrade tree; it'll be going out to the group chat."

"How did we get gold coins from negotiating with seagulls, anyway?" Grace asked, looking up from the book she was referencing.

"Oh, that just represents the abstract monetary value of the smaller gemstones that orbit the Shard," Marco explained. "They're yours now, and you don't need them for anything else, so you can collect them and use them as currency."

I looked over my own notes. Like Mal, I'd plotted out some of my character's advancement ahead of time, and I had a good idea of the spells I wanted Fiora to learn. But I wasn't expecting to earn 900 gp so soon! That was more than twice the value of her current gear, even after I gave her a feat that increased her starting wealth.

What to spend it on? Hmm. I made a mental note to flip through the Magic Item Compendium later and see what sort of cool stuff I could get for 400 gp or less. Maybe some low-level magic wands. Or, alternatively, I could have Fiora spend the money to scribe new spells into her spellbook; I wouldn't be able to prepare everything at once, but it's always nice to have more options.

For now, I just focused on leveling up: a boost to hit points and skill points, new spells known, more spells per day…look, I'll be the first to say that it wasn't any substitute for the real thing, but there was a thrill in expanding this one little fictional character's capabilities.

"I'm going with fighter," Hannah decided. "Gotta have feats!"

"I think I'm done!" said Grace, closing the book she was referencing. "Level 2, check! I don't think I forgot anything…"

"If you want another pair of eyes, I can double-check it for you," Marco offered.

"Would you?"

He looked over her sheet. "Seems like you got it…oh, except you missed the synergy bonuses from these skills here! Now that you have 5 ranks, they give you +2 to related skills." He pointed to the skills column. "Your Diplomacy modifier should actually be…+13, it looks like."

"What?" Grace replied. "Are you sure? That seems high for level 2."

"Oh, it is definitely above average, for sure. But it's the rules!"

"I finished mine too," Mal announced. "Bree can steal active spell effects out from under people now."

I was boggling at their speed. "You both finished so quickly!"

Marco looked pensive, as if he was pondering the philosophical implications of the relative speed differential in our respective character sheet updates. "That's what she said," he replied thoughtfully.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked.

"I think that's, like, the sixth time you've asked me that today," Mal said, rolling her eyes and smiling at me. "Yes, I still want to!"

"I mean, it's just…you know. I mean…you're absolutely positively sure nothing is going to go wrong? You're going to be okay?"

It was Friday night, and I was pacing up and down Mal's desk as she studied the body swap spell we'd finished copying down earlier in the afternoon. It was surprisingly easy, thanks in no small part to the documentation Sophia had provided us, which, unlike the broad-strokes bardic spell descriptions in Mal's D&D books, gave us very precise and detailed parameters to work with.

"If you're nervous, it's okay, we don't have to do it," Mal said gently, noticing the way my tail was lashing.

I sighed. "I'm sorry. I think I've just been trained by…um…every single piece of fiction ever…to associate this sort of thing with unfortunate mishaps that always go horribly wrong somehow."

"Well, RIP to them, but we're different!" she replied. She brushed some stray cat hairs off the shoulder of her pajamas, projecting confidence through our empathic link. "Ours is going to be on purpose, and go totally smoothly. I promise. I mean, really, what's the worst that could possibly happen?"

"Don't say things like that! You'll jinx it!"

"Sorry! Hey, for extra safety, why don't you help me go over it again? Triple-check my work?"

I flicked my tail in reluctant agreement. "Okay. Spot me a Read Magic spell?"

"Here you go," she said, retrieving a crystal necklace from her desk drawer. I directed my Helpful Hand spell to fasten it around my neck for me, and she spoke the words to complete the spell.

With magically heightened comprehension, I spent several minutes carefully combing over the two-page spread in Mal's spellbook. It was all in order—not a rune out of place, as far as I could tell (and I was getting better at reading these things). The energy requirements were correct, the targeting parameters were correct, the school of magic was accurately transcribed, the consent lock was safely in place, the components were cat-friendly (so that she could cast it again in my body to swap back when the time came)…it would work. I was sure of it.

I sighed again. "Yup. It all looks good. If you can hold this spell in your mind, I can't find any reason why it shouldn't work."

(I was wrong about this, of course, but I wouldn't realize it until later. Oh, the spellcraft was all in order, that much was true enough! Unfortunately, we were both hung up looking for errors in the technical details of the spell, and even though we managed not to turn ourselves into axolotls by mistake…well, it turned out that we missed a key step that should have been super obvious. It was going to come back to bite us later. For now, we remained blissfully ignorant of the deeply embarrassing error we were about to make.)

"I'm pretty confident that I can hold it in my mind? But I guess that'll be the first practical test!" Mal brought out her pencils and sketch paper. "If I'm right, this should take about 15 minutes to prepare."

She was right. It took about 15 minutes to prepare. The result was a beautiful abstract drawing with a mix of bilateral and rotational symmetry symbolizing the duality of the double transformation. My wizard knows her way around a sketch.

I took a deep breath. "Okay," I said, flicking my tail nervously. "If you're sure about this…I'm ready."

"I'm sure," she said. She steeled her nerves. "I'm ready too. Just for the weekend. Easy."

"Where should I stand?"

"Both of us need to be inside the pentacle, with the drawing at the north point."

We took our places, and she began to chant:

If I was you, I'd wanna be me too
I'd wanna be me too
I'd wanna be me too
Oh!
If I was you, I'd wanna be me too
I'd wanna be me too
I'd wanna be me too

It was the rhythm that mattered, not the lyrics. As she chanted, purple light began to pulse through the pentacle to the beat, building up until it swirled and spiraled around us in the air. I felt a strange sensation in my mind, and I suddenly understood exactly what words I needed to say to complete the spell, and exactly what would happen if I said them. It was uncanny, but expected—the magic was making sure that both participants could give informed consent.

"I, Katelyn Louise Winters, give my consent," I said, but there was something different about the words, somehow.

"I, Mallory Aurelia Avalon, give my consent," said Mal, and again there was that strange sound to the words that I couldn't quite—

Light flashed, and the world went purple.

And then…

I blinked. I was a human, and sitting in front of me was a cat with lustrous blonde fur and a bright pink nose.

"Woah!" said the cat, with my voice. "Dang, Kate! You look like a giant version of me! A giant goth version of me!"

"And you're…" I started to say, and then heard how I sounded and stopped. "Oh, that's so weird! I've got your voice!"

"Dear gods, you're huge," Mal said. She got up and walked gingerly around me in a circle, her tail parallel to the ground. "Everything is huge. Wow! Four legs! And the sense of smell…!"

"Yeah, it takes some getting used to. Try jumping!"

She leapt onto my right shoulder. "Woooahh," she said. "Dang! That's wild."

"Ow."

"What?"

"Claws."

"Sorry!" She retracted her claws, then had to adjust herself to keep from falling off of her perch.

I smiled. Been there. It really does take getting used to. "How's your balance? Because I'm about to stand up to look in the mirror."

"Great idea! I'd like to look in the mirror too! Just don't go too fast—I always try not to make sudden moves when you're perched like this."

"And I appreciate you for that," I said. I got up in as smooth a motion as I could manage, and I looked across the room at my reflection in the mirror over the dresser.

I looked exactly like Mal, but with the colors changed. My hair was dark black instead of blonde, my eyes were golden yellow instead of green, and the pajamas that the spell had dressed me in were black instead of pink. Other than that (and the bracelet on my left wrist, and the Helpful Hand still hovering over my left shoulder), I was completely identical to the human girl I'd grown so attached to.

"I look like the alternate version of you that shows up in a fighting game when both players select the same character," I remarked.

"And I look like…um. Sorry, Kate, your eyesight sucks, I can't see that far. Bring me in closer?"

Obligingly, I walked across the room to the mirror. She hopped off my shoulder and onto the dresser to take a closer look at herself. "Oh! I'm super cute!"

She spun around eagerly, checking out all her angles. I laughed. "Yep!"

"Hey, you're not so bad yourself, either," she added, looking up at me. "I'm not gonna lie, Giant Goth Me is kiiinda hot."

If I had a nickel for every talking housecat with blonde fur that admitted to being attracted to me, I'd have two nickels—which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

I sat down on Mal's bed and watched her while she spent some time acquainting herself with her physical capabilities in cat form, running and jumping around the room in a way that reminded me of myself on that first morning as a cat.

I, on the other hand, didn't feel like I needed to spend much time acquainting myself with the physical capabilities of Mal's body. I figured this was pretty close to the human body I was used to. A little bit shorter, a little bit skinnier, better eyesight, smaller boobs…it was different, true, but not that different. All the fundamentals were the same.

"So, now what?" I asked, in Mal's voice. "This feels pretty normal to me so far."

Mal jumped onto my lap. (Hmm. It was pretty comfy from the other side of things, too.) "Now we—oh, this is comfy! I get it now! Wow, I have a soft lap."

"Focus, Mal. The plan."

"Right. The plan. Okay, so, the plan is, we spend the weekend in each other's bodies, and then we change back on Sunday evening. So far, it seems to be going off without a hitch!"

(The hitch was going to come later, when the consequences of our mistake eventually became clear. But, again, neither of us knew this yet.)

I blinked. "Oh. For some reason, I sort of expected you to have, like, specific activities in mind."

"Not really? Just, like, vibes. I figured while I'm a cat, I'll try some…various cat things, and while you're a human, you can practice some wizard things, and work on learning some cantrips? Is that good?"

"Oh!" I perked up. "Oh, I feel silly! I didn't even think about being able to write properly! You're right—I can start a spellbook!"

"I have a blank one you can use," Mal added helpfully.

"Yes!"

"...But not until morning. You're gonna want a good rest first to clear your mind. At least eight hours."

"Aww."

"I think you've been learning really fast so far, and your foundation is a lot better than mine was when I was starting, so I'm really optimistic about how well you'll do! It's not easy, though, I do want to emphasize that. I mean, we're talking about manipulating the fundamental laws of reality here, after all, and you've only had a week to study. If you fail at first, don't get discouraged, okay?"

"How long did it take you before you could cast your first cantrip?"

"Ah…well…about a week, actually," she admitted. "But I have a lot of inherited talent, for a non-sorcerer! And it still took another month and a half before I figured out 1st-level spells!"

"Okay, so don't get my hopes up too much, but getting my hopes up a little bit is fine?"

"Right. Your hopes should be carefully calibrated at just the right altitude! Which, assuming you have some magic potential, would be maybe…I don't know, uh… part of a cantrip?" She cocked her head in contemplation. "Sure, let's aim for that. If you can cast part of a cantrip by the end of the weekend, that's a win. I believe in you!"

I scratched my head. "How do you cast part of a spell?"

"Prestidigitation has a lot of different modes, spanning multiple schools of magic," she explained, shifting into lecture mode. "There's color, flavor, temperature, position, cleanness, and forgery. Traditionally, when you're starting out, you learn each of them one at a time. So, our goal will be for you to figure out just one mode. I'd recommend one of the modes that uses transmutation or evocation, since those are the schools you've worked with the most so far. That would be temperature or position."

"Okay…probably position, then," I said thoughtfully. I was pretty sure that was the one she used to style her hair—a convenience which I had long coveted. "Wait, is the flavor mode not transmutation?"

"Nope! Illusion! It doesn't change the food, it just fools the tastebuds. Color is also illusion—just a very basic glamer. Cleanness is abjuration if you're banishing schmutz, conjuration if you're creating it. And forgery is conjuration, although the stuff you get out of it is so flimsy, it might as well be illusion, frankly."

I counted in my head as she listed them off. "So…abjuration, conjuration, illusion, evocation, transmutation…that's only five schools."

"Out of eight. Yeah. Honestly, I don't know why divination, enchantment, and necromancy aren't represented. Maybe it's just a taxonomy thing, because there are partial cantrips for those schools—they're just not considered part of Prestidigitation, for whatever reason."

She paused.

"Sorry, I'm infodumping at you again, aren't I?" she said. She was feeling self-conscious about it.

"Yes, and you're doing a very good job," I said firmly. "I promise you, this is a subject where I do, in fact, share your interest and am eager to learn more. Dump as much info on me as you like; I can take it."

Her whiskers twitched forward in an expression of amusement. "Don't tempt me, or I'll be rambling on about arcane minutia all night and neither of us will get any sleep."

"I would say 'Don't threaten me with a good time,' but I suppose sleep is required for wizardry, isn't it?"

"It is. Aren't you going to give me any skritches? I've been sitting in your lap this whole time. I thought that was the signal."

"Oh! My bad!" I was so used to being on the other end of it that I'd forgotten. I started scratching her behind her ears.

"Mmm, a little bit lower," she purred.

Chapter Text

I expected it to feel more different to fall asleep while wearing someone else's body, but it wasn't very different at all. Maybe it was because of how close Mal's body was to the human body I'd worn in the past. Maybe it was because of the failsafe mechanisms that were built by default into transmutation spells to protect against body dysmorphia. Or maybe what actually feels different is lying awake at night while wearing someone else's body, tossing and turning because you don't know how to get comfortable, like trying to sleep in an unfamiliar bed where the pillows are too firm and the mattress isn't firm enough and the blankets are too heavy and the sheets are the wrong fabric.

Well, for whatever reason, I didn't have that problem. I did notice that in this body, I felt more comfortable sleeping on my back, even though I'm normally more of a side sleeper (both as a human and as a cat). But once I felt the soft pillow against my head and the cozy tingle of Mal's presence by my feet, my mind only took a few minutes to make a few of these sorts of neutral observations before I drifted off into slumber.

When I woke up, I was briefly disconcerted. What was I again? Oh. Right. I was a human who turned into a cat with the ability to turn into a human based on my original human form but with aspects of my cat form, but then I turned into a human, based on the human who turned me into a cat, but with aspects of my cat form, and said human turned herself into a cat based on my cat form but with aspects of her human form and presumably no ability to turn human, except by turning me back into a cat.

Wait. If I used my "true self" transformation ability in this form, would I turn back into a cat, or would I turn back into my human form based on my original human form (but with aspects of my cat form)? And what form would I revert to when the temporary transformation wore off?

Ugh. I needed a flowchart to track all this stuff.

Mal wasn't ready to wake up yet, so I reached over for my book and started to read. It was a riveting fantasy novel about two characters from different worlds whose souls were magically bound together by a twist of fate, causing them to share each other's lives. This plot point felt much more relatable to me now than it had when I first picked up the book two weeks ago.

I looked up when I felt Mal stirring. She yawned and got up. "Good morning…oh, right, I'm currently a cat," she said, flicking her tail.

"How are you doing so far?" I asked. "You feline well?"

She looked at me suspiciously. "Did you say feelin' or feline? Because it sounded like you said feline."

"Don't ask questions if you don't want to know the answers."

She huffed. "I'm feeling well, yes. Although I am just now realizing that I'm going to miss some doses of my anxiety medication. Uh…it's probably fine!"

"I hope so." I reached instinctively for the nightstand to put on my glasses, then realized I didn't need glasses. Right. Different body. "Wait, I'm not supposed to take your meds while I'm in your body, am I?"

"No, it doesn't work that way," she explained. "...Um. Uh, I think it doesn't work that way. Shit."

I groaned. 

"Well, look," she said, "it's just a couple days. It's not a big deal, probably. Let's just not have any panic attacks and we'll be fine, right?"

"Sure. Easy," I said skeptically.

She stretched and yawned, then tossed her head, sending waves of sparkles down her back that cleaned and brushed her fur in moments. Even as a cat, she made perfect hair look effortless.

"Let's jump into your lessons instead!" she said. "You should start trying to achieve a flow state that focuses your mind completely and utterly on the arcane energy within and around you."

"What, right now?"

"Sure, why not? It's usually easiest if you do it first thing in the morning."

"Can I use the bathroom first? And maybe get some breakfast, and brush my teeth?"

She nodded. "Yes, that's allowed. It's theoretically better to do them after, but, like…in practice, taking care of things like hunger and hygiene in advance can help you concentrate better."

"Okay." I rolled out of bed with a yawn. "You don't mind if I borrow your clothes, right?"

"Heck, you're borrowing my whole body, so what's a pair of underwear at this point?" she replied cheerfully. "Consider my wardrobe at your disposal."

"Thanks. And of course you're welcome to use my cat tree."

When I went for breakfast, I found Thistle at the table drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.

"Good morning," I said, as I poured myself a bowl of granola.

"Good morning, Mal," she replied, giving me a nod and taking another sip of coffee.

"Oh, I'm actually Kate. We switched bodies. Hence the, uh…palette swap."

She made the face of someone trying very hard not to do a spit take and only very narrowly avoiding it. Then she said, with gritted teeth, "You. Did. What?!"

"It's, uh, it's all very safe!" I stammered, suddenly feeling like I had better placate her before she grounded us for irresponsible use of magic. "We can switch back whenever we want!"

Mal picked that moment to join us, having just finished in the bathroom. She sauntered into the kitchen with a chipper demeanor, tail held high. "Morning, Mom!" she meowed.

Thistle looked at Mal, then groaned and massaged her temples. "I promised to be supportive and trusting. Even when you're finding creative new ways to give me a heart attack. Please, Katelyn, honestly, will you give me a rating out of 10 for how concerned I should be about this?"

"Uh…I'd say, like, 3/10? A heart attack is too much, but a mild headache would be okay."

"Okay. Okay, 3/10, right. Just…let me know if you need my help." She sighed and took another swig of coffee.

"I need help fixing myself some cat food!" Mal said, staring at the cupboard.

I opened up a can for her, and we took our places at the breakfast table.

"So how long will this spell last?" Thistle asked.

"Until we manually reverse it, which we're planning to do sometime tomorrow," I explained. "It's a more involved process than snapping your fingers and saying 'Abracadabra,' but less involved than copying down a new spell into a spellbook."

"So this is something you two did on purpose."

I inclined my head toward Mal. "Her idea. It's a way for her to understand what I'm going through, and a way for me to hold a pen long enough to start scribing a spellbook of my own."

"Tell her it's also an impressive piece of Spellcraft that exemplifies how far I've progressed as a wizard," Mal added.

"Ah, she also wants to add that this body-swap spell is actually an impressive piece of Spellcraft that…what was it?"

"Exemplifies how far…"

"…That exemplifies how far she's progressed as a wizard. She's got a good point there—you should be proud."

"Oh, Mal, sweetie, of course I'm proud of you!" said Thistle. "I do worry sometimes, it's true…but it's wonderful that you have such an amazing talent. Even if you sometimes use it for the daftest things."

Mal almost objected, but then she stopped herself. "No, yeah, now you mention it, yeah, it is a little bit daft, that's fair," she conceded.

Chapter Text

Breathe in. Energy flowing through me, I thought.

Breathe out. Energy flowing around me.

Breathe in. Picture the flow, swirling with octarine light.

Breathe out. Picture the shape of it, a spiraling vortex.

Breathe in. Inhale the energy. Take it into yourself.

Breathe out. Exhale and feel the power.

I opened my eyes. I was sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor. Resting in front of me was a plain-looking blank book: my new spellbook. If all went well, it wouldn't be blank for long. Mal's spellbook was open next to it, along with a fresh set of pens, and behind me, Mal observed my progress from a comfortable perch atop her windowsill.

"I'm ready," I said.

"Good. Keep that focus. You know what to do. Blue section first."

I concentrated on the mental image of flowing magic as I picked up a blue gel pen and set to work, visualizing the energy trickling down my arm and onto the page with every stroke of ink. The partial cantrip was represented in Mal's spellbook as a portion of a larger pattern, formed out of overlapping fractals. I could feel her in the back of my mind, lending me her own concentration and helping to direct my efforts.

"Now the orange," she said. I switched pens and continued the pattern, willing the energy within me to shift along with the color of the pen.

"And stop there!" She hopped down to inspect my work once I put the pen down. "Oh, good work! This is very nice. Let's give it an hour to breathe, then put in the finishing touches."

My heart was pounding. I stretched out my arms to loosen myself up. This was my second attempt at copying the evocation mode of Prestidigitation, after the first attempt was foiled by my restless internal monologue, which had insisted on spiraling off into mental tangents about random nonsense while I tried to concentrate.

"I think the meditation technique helped," I said. "It felt like my mind was a lot clearer this time."

"I think you're right. You did great. And you're making really fast progress!"

I glowed at the praise. (Figuratively, not literally. Although I suppose Mal currently had my ability to see magic auras, since that was a feature of being a cat, so, hey, maybe from her perspective, I was also glowing literally right now.) It was exciting to be ahead of schedule, especially now that I was tantalizingly close to learning my first spell.

"I've never been able to make the traditional meditation method work for me," Mal continued. "Just never had the knack for it, maybe. I'm glad we tried it for you, though, because it'll be great to have something you can keep practicing even after we switch back!"

"Agreed!"

Since it was time for a break, we took an hour to unwind. I sat on the couch in the living room and read some more of my novel. Meanwhile, Mal climbed all over my cat tree until she tuckered herself out and flopped onto her back to rest on one of the perches. It was very cute. I should have taken a video.

But then it was back to business! Another round of meditation (I was starting to get the hang of it), another round of gel pen spellcraft, focus, focus, focus, and…

"That's it," Mal said. "That's your first partial cantrip all sorted."

"We're done?"

"We're done. Or, well, we're done scribing. For now."

I examined the page in my new spellbook, now home to a multicolored fractal pattern representing the ability to move objects by evoking micro-quantities of magical force. With a power like this, it felt like I could do just about anything. Brush my hair. Bend a spoon. Very slowly levitate a pencil. Maybe even open or close doors!

Okay, putting it like that makes it sound trivial, but still, we're talking magic here!

"How do I prepare it?" I asked. "Do I just…draw it, like you do?"

Mal paced across the windowsill, pondering for a moment. "Yes," she decided. "Yes, let's start there, see if that method clicks for you. Go ahead and bring out some sketch paper and a pencil and we'll give it a go."

Spoiler alert—it did not click for me.

Smash cut to one hour later, and a pile of unsuccessful attempts was stacking up on the desk. Apparently the visual arts were not my forte. I didn't think my drawings were that bad—I mean, they obviously weren't going to match up to Mal's, but they were also simple abstract patterns, so even an unskilled artist like myself couldn't bungle them too horribly. The trouble was that I just wasn't connecting with the art the way she did. The act of drawing was supposed to be a bridge that induced a flow state and allowed me to become one with the primal arcane energies of the universe, but I wasn't really, uh, vibing with it, I guess.

"Well, this strategy is a bust so far," Mal remarked. "What say we move on to a different method?"

I sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, this isn't working for me."

"It's normal to have to experiment at this stage. You know, I went through all of the techniques in my grandma's notes when I was starting out, and none of them worked for me? I got close with the runic method, like, calligraphy and all that, but it was like pulling teeth, and eventually I figured out that I could do it with sketches, and the rest is history. To this day, I still can't prepare anything above a cantrip without using a pencil and paper."

That made me feel a little better. "Let's try some of your grandma's techniques, then?"

She didn't hear me. She was staring off into space.

"Mal? You okay?"

"…Oh. Oh, no."

"What?"

Her voice shook. "I, uh, I think I may have fucked up? Um…" She looked down at her paws.

That was when it hit me, too. "Oh. Oh."

"Yeah, I, uh…I probably should have prepared two copies of the body swap spell, before, uh, giving up the…the ability to, um, hold a pencil…"

Ah, fuck.

Chapter Text

I, Mallory Avalon, am an idiot.

I closed my eyes. How could I make such an obvious mistake? Kate told me from the start that this was a bad idea. Ms. Bellman warned me not to take it lightly. So why didn't I listen? I should have seen it! Of course I wouldn't be able to prepare spells as a cat. Dammit, dammit, dammit!

If I had just prepared a second copy of the spell before casting the first one, everything would have been fine! I'd have an extra casting ready in my mind, and it wouldn't matter that I couldn't draw properly in Kate's body. What is wrong with me?

Hubris. Sheer fucking hubris, that's what's wrong with me. High Intelligence, low Wisdom. So caught up in my own arrogance that I barreled headlong into a trap of my own making. I should have stopped to think! But no, once again, I got sloppy, and now I was stuck as a cat, and not even an anthropomorphic one. 

At least I didn't turn anyone else into a cat this time. Better for me to suffer the consequences of my own mistakes myself than to inflict them on others. Poetic, huh?

"Hey," said Kate. "Hey, it's okay. This is…I mean, it's a solvable problem, right? It's gonna be okay."

Sure it would. But I could hardly complain to her about it, could I? Would be pretty insensitive of me, acting like it's the end of the world to be stuck as a cat.

Kate is an optimist at heart. I think no matter how bad her situation is, she can always find a bright side to latch onto. But she also has an unhealthy tendency to sweep her problems under the rug and pretend like they don't exist—because if it's not real, it can't hurt her, right?

Not that I'm any better. My tendency is to stew in my problems. I'm a wallower. I'll keep turning things over in my mind, blaming myself for anything and everything and mentally playing through imaginary worst-case scenarios until I'm worn out and broken down from the stress. This is also an unhealthy behavior, a fact of which I am well aware, but that doesn't prevent my brain from falling into that spiral anyway.

Like what was happening right now. Gah!

"Okay, see, I'm sensing some turmoil right now," said Kate.

"A little bit," I replied shakily. An understatement. What even was the point of being a wizard if every spell I cast just ended up going horribly wrong somehow? What good was there in—

"Emotional support powers, activate!" Kate declared, scooping me up in her arms and interrupting my train of thought.

Ah.

What was I on about again?

Warm hugs. Warm hugs are nice. Cozy. Tingly. Mmm.

"Good news," I murmured. "I'm not having a panic attack."

"Me neither. Here's hoping we can both keep on not having panic attacks," said Kate. "I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be the second pair of eyes that catches mistakes before they happen. I shouldn't have given you the all-clear before everything was ready…"

I flicked my tail in surprise. Her apologizing to me wasn't exactly the reaction I expected. "Um. Wait. This isn't your fault. I was the one who made the boneheaded mistake in the first place. Heck, this whole spell was my idea."

"Okay, but I'm theoretically the adult in the room."

"Okay, but you told me it was a bad idea, and I brushed it off, like a fool."

She scratched my head. It made me feel a little better. "Tell you what," she said. "How's about we agree neither of us caught the mistake, we're both fools, and we can split the blame 50/50 and kick ourselves together?"

I still felt like it was mainly my fault. But I suppose logically speaking, she had a point. We both had the chance to catch it, and we both missed it. "...70/30,” I countered. "I'll grant that we both missed it, but you didn't know that other methods of spell preparation wouldn't work for me, so the onus was primarily on me."

"You drive a hard bargain. Okay, 70/30."

"Deal."

"Do you want to talk solutions, or would you rather brood a little more first?" she teased.

I sighed. I had to give her credit: she was doing a good job of pulling me out of my spiral before it got too bad. The comforting sensation of physical contact with a bonded familiar helped, too. How lucky was I, that I got to have someone like her as a soul-sister?

Okay. Alright. Calm, then. Think about ways to fix the problem.

"I can still do cantrips so long as I spend a little extra time on them…but that doesn't help us swap back," I said slowly. "My mage hand spell isn't precise enough to prepare spells with. I've tried."

"And I'm still working on cantrips," said Kate. "I don't expect I'll be any help."

"Not for a long while yet."

"And you don't have my ability to shapeshift, right? That's still just a me thing."

"Correct. You can turn into your human, tiger, or hybrid form, and when you dismiss it, you'll go back to being Goth Me." That was the point of the body-swap spell, after all—a true change of the participants' base forms, not your typical easily-overridden polymorph effect.

"And I recall that the caster of the spell is always one of the two who swaps, so we can't just ask a third party like Sophia to cast the spell for us and bail us out."

I perked up. "Maybe we could? What if she switched with me, and then I used her body to prepare the spell again, then switched back with her and then back with you?"

Kate hummed in agreement. "That could work! If she's willing. Or…didn't she say some of the ways she came up with for turning a cat back into a human were redundant with the ability I already have? Maybe she could just cast a spell to temporarily turn you human again, long enough for you to prep the spell?"

"Yes! Brilliant!"

Ms. Bellman was the one who'd shared the spell with us in the first place. It came from her magic system, after all. And she's super cool! She'd be able to bail us out for sure! Ha! What was I even worried about in the first place? I must have been so used to working without a proper support network that I just forgot that I could ask other people for help!

"I'll text her now," said Kate.

A reply came back immediately.

AUTO-REPLY: Dai stihó! I'm currently unavailable for the following reason: [HELPING TO COORDINATE LARGE-SCALE REAL-TIME INTERVENTION TO PREVENT THE DESTRUCTION OF ALL LIFE ON THE PLANET 16 AURIGAE VII.] Sorry! I'll get back to you as soon as I can! If this is an emergency, please consult your Manual for information on other available resources.

Kate and I both stared at the message.

"Wow," I said. "That is the coolest away message I have ever seen."

"Would be more helpful if we had a Manual to consult. How long will it take her to prevent the destruction of all life on the planet 16 Aurigae VII, d'you think? Because I have no frame of reference for that."

"No idea." It sounded a lot more important than my petty problems. My history teacher, the space adventurer. I wish I could be that awesome.

I guess she wasn't available, though. We definitely couldn't pull her away from her life-or-death situation to help resolve what were, in the grand scheme of things, minor sitcom hijinks.

Okay, maybe moderate sitcom hijinks. Minor sitcom hijinks would be more like, oops, the dog ate your birthday cake and now I need a new one on short notice! Or, like, oh no, I've been acting inauthentically to make some cool people like me, but now I have to hide increasingly important things from them in order to maintain the façade! Body swaps probably rate a little higher on the hijinks scale, unless the sitcom in question is, like, a Gravity Falls or Wizards of Waverly Place type of deal where fantastical elements are more expected.

"Right, well," said Kate, setting me down on her lap. "What else have we got for possible solutions? Do you think you could, I don't know, dip a claw in an inkwell, and use that instead of a pencil?"

"No, that wouldn't work," I replied confidently.

"Are you sure? I mean, maybe it's worth a try?"

"We could try. But it wouldn't work. I'm sure of it." I knew this because I had experimented with finger-painting before, just to see if it would work. It was a complete failure—the mess I made all over my fingers kept distracting me the whole time. If you ask me, the preschoolers can keep it.

Kate hummed pensively. "What about Hannah? Maybe she's like you, and she unlocked 2nd-level spells without realizing it."

"She'd be delighted to help us," I agreed. "But even if she did level up in the past week or so and didn't notice—which seems unlikely—she wouldn't be able to copy the spell by the end of the weekend. It would take at least a day and a half."

"Better late than never."

"True."

The original plan was for us to swap back by Sunday night so that Kate wouldn't have to go to school on Monday pretending to be me. But I would rather endure that embarrassing ordeal and swap back afterwards than never swap back at all. It was good to have some prospects available.

My phone chirped again. Kate picked it up. There was another message from Ms. Bellman on the screen. It said:

I've got a minute to breathe right now. Listen, most of the people I'd normally refer you to in my absence are tied up in this same intervention. It's a bit of an all-hands-on-deck situation, and I won't lie, it's dire. And with timeslides on the fritz, I'm not sure when I'll be back. Since you don't have a Manual: if you need help in the meantime, Urruah from the San Francisco worldgate management team has been temporarily promoted to Senior for the duration of the crisis, but you'd have to go down there in person to see him.

A second message popped up with directions to an address in San Francisco.

"That sounds serious. I hope she's okay, and that that planet isn't destroyed," Kate said.

I hoped so too.

Chapter Text

We tried dipping my claw in ink, just for the sake of due diligence. As expected, it didn't work. So we brainstormed some more, came up blank, consulted the group chat to trawl for more ideas, and arrived at a plan to get us back to normal by tomorrow evening.

It was a simple plan. Here's the gist: Kate and I hang tight for today and work on making progress on her spellbook, like we originally planned. That's step 1. For step 2, we pack up my spellbook and supplies, and Hannah comes over Sunday morning and drives us to the city. Why? Because she has a car, and she's very hyped to go on a quest that involves seeing a worldgate. And then step 3, we talk to Urruah, he changes me back temporarily, I use the temporary change to prepare another copy of the form transferral spell, and we're back in our proper bodies by dinnertime!

Well, for a certain definition of "proper bodies." I suppose the plan here does still leave Kate as a cat. But, look, one problem at a time.

Kate has asked me to refrain from making any remarks referring to this plan as foolproof or implying that nothing can go wrong, and although I do not agree with the reason behind this request—I promise, if I were superstitious, I wouldn't have conjured a black cat as my familiar—I'm willing to concede the point for the sake of her peace of mind, and so I shall not make any such remarks except to comment that I think the plan is Good and Nice.

It only took three tries for Kate to succeed in preparing and casting her first partial cantrip. She managed to slowly levitate a pencil! That's really good progress for her first day! She was so excited that she didn't stop levitating random small objects until she ran out of spell slots. I'm very proud of her. She's coming along fantastically. And, in further good news, the first preparation method that clicked for her was meditation—which she can do just as well in cat form!

It would have been a real coup, if not for my fuzzy little problem. But that was a work in progress.

When dinner rolled around, Mom cornered Kate into fessing up about the trouble we were in because of my mistake. But since we had a plan B and a plan C in place, Mom just sighed very heavily and rubbed her temples, and she gave us some spending cash in case we ended up needing to buy anything while we were in San Francisco. My mom's pretty cool sometimes. She tries really hard to make me feel like I can talk to her about anything without being afraid of getting in trouble for it, and I appreciate that.

Obviously I don't actually talk to her about everything. I am a teenager. I love my parents, I do, but they're still parents, not confidants.

Where was I? Right, the plan. Okay, so, Kate had a very productive Saturday vis a vis wizard training, and that brings us to Sunday! It was a big day, so we woke up bright and early, even though it was the weekend. We prepared what spells we could—cantrips only for me, and the one partial cantrip for her. Kate packed a knapsack with the magic supplies we would need, plus some snacks for the road, and I helped her pick out a nice outfit for San Francisco weather. (She's used to the Central Valley. San Francisco is practically a whole different climate.) Then Hannah arrived to pick us up, and we settled in for a nice, long drive on Highway 101.

Chapter Text

Ten minutes in:

"So who is this 'Urruah' person, do you think?" Hannah asked.

"He's one of Sophia's divine wizard colleagues," Kate replied. "He's been temporarily promoted to Senior rank due to the same crisis that pulled her away from Earth. He helps manage the San Francisco worldgate."

"Okay, yes, you mentioned all that in the group chat, but, like, what do you think he's like? Do you think he'll be, like, a sort of wise old man type with a long white beard, or a more young, hip, urban fantasy protagonist type? Because I'm not sure if I should be picturing Gandalf the Grey or Harry Dresden."

Kate shrugged. "Never met him. You know as much as we do."

"Just speculating," Hannah said. "Hey, maybe he's a giant alien centipede!"

"I think people would notice a giant alien centipede in the middle of a human city," Cocoa pointed out from his perch in the backseat.

"If you can hide a worldgate, I have to assume you can hide a giant alien centipede," Hannah countered. "Ms. Bellman said he was on the worldgate management team. You know who else manages worldgates? Giant alien centipedes from the planet Rirhath."

"I bet he's a raven," Cocoa said. "It sounds like the name of a raven."

Thirty minutes in:

"Hey, Kate, are we there yet?" Cocoa said.

Kate sighed. "No. No, Cocoa, we're not there yet."

"How about now?"

"No. Still not there."

"Now?"

"No. At least another forty-five minutes."

"Oh." The crow was quiet for a minute. And then: "Now are we there yet?"

Kate glared at him.

"Cocoa, stop trolling Kate," said Hannah.

"But it's funny," Cocoa protested. "I saw it on TV! Humans love it when you ask whether we're there yet or not. Especially when you do it lots of times in a row."

"That's a common misconception about human comedy," Kate replied. "Actually, the maximum comedic potential is reached at exactly three iterations, after which you begin to suffer diminishing returns, although that can increase to four or five if you break it up with a cut in the middle to indicate the passing of a sufficiently humorous length of time."

Cocoa stared blankly. "Oh. I didn't realize that."

"Right, so what we would do here to figure out the optimal length of the joke is look at the marginal cost of each additional iteration against its marginal utility, and run a comparative analysis of the competing versions of the script, keeping in mind that marginal utility decreases as a function of time, so in order to generalize the rule, you really want to look at the total overall funniness as an indefinite integral with respect to—actually, if there's some graph paper here, maybe I could draw you a chart, and that would—"

"Stop, stop! I promise I'll stop asking, just please don't make me do math!"

Forty-five minutes in:

I have now learned that if you keep Kate in a car for too long, she starts to burst into song. She is threatening to perform the entire score of Rocky Horror. Unfortunately, she is finding out the hard way that my body has a different vocal range than she's used to, and it's throwing her out of key. However, I've decided that this behavior is ultimately cute and should be encouraged. I'm resolving to teach her the ghost sound cantrip when we get back home.

An hour and fifteen minutes in:

"There's the bridge!" Hannah said.

"Ooh, I wanna see!" I hopped up onto the dashboard to get a better view. I don't often visit San Francisco, but when I do, one of my favorite things is that first glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge, blanketed by the morning fog over the bay. It was beautiful.

"Wow," said Kate.

"I love this bit," I said. "It's so pretty. Even though it's all blurry."

Hannah reached out a hand to pat me on the head. "Have an eyesight spell, Mal. I know you love this part."

My vision suddenly became clearer and sharper than it ever had been before. I gasped. The view wasn't just beautiful, it was breathtaking. I could see every detail with incredible clarity. "Oh, oh wow! Thank you, Hannah!"

"She says thank you," Kate translated. "She loves it."

Hannah smiled. "No problem! That's actually why I prepared that spell today."

Aww! That was really sweet of her!

"I feel like this raises a serious question," said Cocoa.

"What's that?" Hannah asked.

"...Are we there yet?"

Kate burst into laughter.

Chapter Text

Mal was starting to doze off in my lap by the time Hannah finally found a parking spot, and once we parked, it was still a bit of a walk in order to get to our destination: the Salesforce Transit Center, a multistory transit hub spanning four city blocks, capped with a rooftop park and recreation area. It was a relatively recent addition to the urban landscape, and technically still unfinished—plans were in the works to link it to an ambitious high-speed rail line that would connect San Francisco with Los Angeles.

Most of San Francisco's citizens probably didn't know that the Salesforce Transit Center was also currently home to the oldest and most stable natural worldgate on the West Coast.

Sophia's directions led us to an empty storefront on the ground floor of the complex. "For Lease" signs were posted in the unlit windows, and a gray tabby cat was scavenging in an overturned trash can just outside the door. Around us, commuters rushed past without sparing a glance as I double-checked the address on Mal's phone. She was following along at my heels, and Hannah walked next to me, with Cocoa snug in his pocket dimension.

"I think this is the place?" I said.

"Looks empty," Mal remarked.

I shrugged. "It does look empty, yeah. But I assume that's, like, a magical illusion, right?"

The gray tabby cat extracted himself from the trash can and looked at us with interest. "Oh, hello!" he said. "Are you ladies looking for the worldgate?"

I stood there processing this turn of events for a moment before I answered. "Um. Yes. Sort of. Um…we're actually looking for the, uh, the Senior here, who helps maintain it?"

"...Oh!" Mal said, as if she'd just realized something. "It's you, isn't it? Are you Urruah?"

"One and the same!" the tabby replied proudly. "Dai stihó! Yep, I'm your Senior for now, while all the usual ones are away on the high road. Wish it left me more time for lunch breaks." He glanced wistfully at the trash can. "Ah well. Step into my office, and let's see if I can help you, shall we?"

He sauntered right through the closed and locked door of the empty storefront. Then there was a clicking sound, and the door swung open a crack behind him.

"What just happened? What did that cat say, Kate?" Hannah asked. "I don't speak Ailurin."

"He said he's Urruah, and he's going to try to help us," I explained. He was a cat…and he was a wizard. There were cat wizards! That was so cool! Wow!

We followed him into the empty shop. It was, in fact, empty, with no furnishings, no visible human occupants, and no light sources aside from the partially-blocked windows. A young black cat, barely older than a kitten by the look of it, sidled out of the corner of the room to join Urruah, staring at us.

"Ah, of course, manners," Urruah said. "I am called Urruah, and this is my apprentice, Sah'hli. Well met on the Journey, cousins. How can I be of assistance?"

"Okay, that I understood, and the fact that I understood it is cool as fuck," Hannah said. "It's good to meet both of you!"

"Urruah, Sah'hli, dai stihó to you both," Mal said respectfully. "I'm Mallory Avalon. This is my partner in magic, Katelyn Winters, and my friend and colleague Hannah Weiss. We've run into some difficulty with, uh, a body-swap situation, and we were hoping you could help us out, if it's not too much trouble?"

"A Person with a human as a partner?" Sah'hli remarked incredulously. "How does that work? Humans can't see hyperstring structures—can they even do magic?"

Urruah swatted her ear with one paw. "Of course they can. You should know by now not to be so close-minded." Sah'hli looked down in embarrassment, and Urruah turned back to us. "Body-swap problems, huh? The two of you switched, and you're having trouble switching back, I'm guessing?" He gestured to Mal and me.

I nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

"It would explain why your Ailurin is so good for a human, and why yours is so stilted for a feline. No offense," he added, looking at Mal.

"None taken," she said.

"Actually, I just have a magical ability to speak with cats," I clarified. "We're from a different magic system."

"Haven't seen one of those in a while," said Urruah. He paused, tilting his head like he was focusing intently, or maybe like he was listening to something. "Ah. Arcanists? That also explains a lot."

"What's an arcanist?" Sah'hli asked.

"Ask the Whisperer; she'll explain," replied Urruah in Ailurin.

"Who's the Whisperer?" I asked.

"You know how your local Advisory uses a book to help with her wizardry?"

I nodded.

"Well, that's more of a human way of doing things. When our wizards need information, Hrau'f the Silent whispers it directly into our minds. It saves a lot of paper."

"Hrau'f the Silent?" Hannah asked.

"Yes. Ah, what were some of the names you humans have for her? Thoth? Athena? She's one of the Powers that Be."

Ah! Of course. I didn't expect that Urruah would be working quite so directly with deific powers, but this new information certainly supported Mal's instinct to classify his style of magic as divine in nature. I could tell she was thinking the same thing, too—a brief twinge of surprise, followed by the feeling of gratification that she often gets when she's right about something.

"Let's get our claws into this problem of yours, though," Urruah continued. "Sah'hli, pop quiz, how would you go about helping them?"

Sah'hli thought about it for a moment, and then replied, "I would pull at the threads of the spell and unravel it. That would undo the effect with minimal expenditure of energy."

"Except it wouldn't work," Urruah said. "Look again."

The smaller cat stared intently at us. "Ah," she said.

"Exactly."

"Yeah, it's, uh, it's an instantaneous effect," Mal confirmed. "I have the spell to reverse it in my spellbook, but I goofed. I need human-like hands in order to cast it."

"We just need to turn you human again long enough for you to re-cast your spell," Urruah said, switching back to the Speech. "There is a slight catch, though!"

"What's the catch?" I asked.

"Well, I'm sure you know by now that all magic has a price. It's the laws of physics: you can't create or destroy energy. It has to come from somewhere. And in this case, that energy comes from…" He booped Mal gently on the forehead with his paw. "...You! If we use our wizardry to turn you human, the spell will naturally want to drain energy from the most accessible source, which, since you're an arcanist, would be your spell slots."

Mal caught the trouble immediately. "But I need my spell slots to prepare the spell. It would defeat the purpose of the exercise."

"Exactly."

"Well, that's not too bad, is it?" Sah'hli said. "I'm sure I can design the spell to draw energy from us instead."

"I don't want to take energy from you while you're managing a worldgate!" Mal protested. "You must need it more than I do! Surely there's some way the cost can fall upon me alone!"

"There is a way. And don't call me Shirley," Urruah said, with a hint of amusement. Then, noting the expression of glee on my face, he added, "Yes, I am familiar with human cinema, although personally, I've always preferred opera."

"He's actually a big ol' nerd," Sah'hli said conspiratorially.

"Hush, Sah'hli. I appreciate your offering to bear the burden yourself, Mallory Avalon. It's your right, and your choice. But the price for this may be more than you are willing to pay."

Mal flicked her tail proudly. "Try me. What's the price?"

"Probably about $25."

Mal and I both blinked. Hannah raised an eyebrow.

"That's how much it costs for a medium chicken and anchovy at the pizzeria down the way," Urruah explained. "Just get us some calories to refuel and we'll be fine."

"Sounds pretty reasonable to me," I said with a shrug.

"Why pizza, specifically?" Hannah asked.

"I like pizza."

Chapter Text

"Favorite color?" Sah'hli asked.

"Pink," Mal answered.

Sah'hli tugged at the spell diagram with one claw. "Favorite cheese?"

"Um. If I had to pick one…brie?"

"Any known allergies?"

Sah'hli wasn't just asking these questions for no reason, of course. The point of this interview was to collect enough information to describe Mal in the Speech with as much detail and precision as possible. In order for the two feline wizards to transform Mal, they needed to include her true name in the casting. A lot of information is wrapped up in a true name, and all of it needs to be accurate, or else you risk changing the subject in a way you didn't intend. Divine wizards—for the sake of disambiguation, I'm just going to say wizards like Sophia and Urruah are "divine wizards" and wizards like Hannah and Mal (and hopefully me!) are "arcane wizards"—are very careful about that sort of thing. Hence, interrogation.

By the time all the questions had run out, the pizza was already mostly gone, devoured by Sah'hli and Urruah. I managed to snag a slice for myself, too. Hannah wasn't interested—she's firmly against anchovies on pizza—but the smell did coax Cocoa out of his Familiar Pocket to claim a portion. He eyed the three cats warily the whole time he was eating, and then retreated cautiously back to the safety of Hannah's jacket once he was done.

Anyway, once the spell was ready, Urruah instructed Mal to step into the center of the diagram, and then…

Well, actually, from the outside, it didn't look very interesting at all. There were none of the usual flashing lights and special effects that I'd become accustomed to. He simply spoke a word, and suddenly a naked human Mal was sitting on the floor where a blonde cat had been a second ago.

"Cool! There's two of you!" exclaimed Hannah. "Um. The nudity is a surprise, though."

Mal blushed with embarrassment. I shrugged off the jacket I was wearing and handed it to her. "Thanks," she said gratefully, covering herself as best she could. It was probably a long enough jacket to preserve her modesty, so long as she didn't partake in any athletic activities. Or climb up any ladders.

"Is something wrong?" Sah'hli asked.

"Humans have, um, a thing about clothes," Mal explained. "There's, like, a nudity taboo? Uh, anyway, I'll, uh, I'll be fine. How long will this last?"

"25 minutes exactly, unless you dismiss it earlier," said Urruah. "Well, 24 minutes now."

She nodded and reached for the knapsack on the ground nearby, retrieving the sketchpad and pencil from the largest pocket. "I'd better get to work, then!"

As before, it took 15 minutes to prepare the spell. Urruah excused himself to the back room of the empty store to run a quick diagnostic on the worldgate. Meanwhile Sah'hli stayed and watched us, presumably to learn, not to supervise—I got the sense that she was nearly as green as I was when it came to magic, even if she did have a deity whispering knowledge in her ear.

Hannah was curious too, but not about Mal's method of spell preparation. She followed Urruah to watch him fiddle with the gate—and probably also pepper him with questions, as she was wont to do.

"Okay! Preparation complete!" Mal finally announced. "Hey, thanks again for your help," she added, turning to Sah'hli.

"That means 'thank you,' right?" Sah'hli asked. "I'm sorry, I really don't speak Human very well."

"It does mean 'thank you,' yes," I said. "If it helps, the language is English, not Human. Humans have a lot of different languages."

"Ah. I didn't know that."

"You're pretty new to this, aren't you?" I asked.

Sah'hli curled her tail in mild embarrassment. "Yes. I only just finished my Ordeal quite recently, and I haven't worked with members of your species before."

"I think you're doing very well so far," I said encouragingly.

"I appreciate that!"

I looked at Mal. "So, shall we, then?"

"I'm ready if you are," she replied. "Damn, it's too bad I don't have my clothes, or we could take a really cool selfie together first!"

"Alas and alack," I agreed. "Ah, well. Let's swap back before something inevitably goes wrong again."

Mal nodded, then took out a piece of chalk to draw a pentacle. One short ritual later, there was a flash of purple light, and I found myself standing on four legs in a heap of clothing, back in feline form.

It was just in time for a rift to open in the air about five feet away from us and spit out a Christmas tree wearing a baseball cap.

…Um. Wait. Sorry…what the fuck?

Mal—now fully clothed again in the pink pajamas she'd worn when we first switched bodies—rubbed her eyes. "Am I hallucinating, or did a rift just open in the air about five feet away from us and spit out a Christmas tree wearing a baseball cap?"

"No, yeah, we're on the same page there," I agreed.

"Please…help…" the tree said in the Speech. Then it collapsed to the ground…unconscious? Can trees faint?

I know I said that something would inevitably go wrong again, but this was not on my bingo card.

Chapter Text

Mal and I were pretty thoroughly flabbergasted. Sah'hli moved in to get a closer look at the tree, her body language giving the clear impression that she didn't know what was going on either.

Urruah bounded out of the other room. "Who in the Queen's name just did a transit here without—oh, shit! Is that who I think it is?"

"I don't know!" Sah'hli said, reverting back to Ailurin in surprise. "Uh…a tree of some kind!"

Hannah followed the gray tabby, a concerned expression on her face. "What's going on?"

"A talking tree just appeared out of what looked like a portal," Mal said, gesturing towards the tree. "I think they said 'Please, help,' before falling over. Um. We successfully swapped back, by the way. I'm Mal. Urruah, do you know who this, uh, who this tree-person is?"

"I don't know any other Demisiv who supports the New York Yankees." Urruah rushed over to the tree. "Sah'hli, check the gate logs, see if you can find out where the transit originated. Filif? Hey, Filif! Is that you? Wake up!"

Sah'hli twitched her ears in assent and began examining the air where the portal had opened. The tree—Demisiv?—rustled, and then stood up in what I can only describe as a groggy manner. I don't know how a tree can be groggy, but this one was.

Filif—if that was the tree's name—was an evergreen tree about eight feet tall. Bright red berries adorned needly green branches, looking for all the world like natural Christmas lights. The smell was not the earthy green aroma I normally expected from a conifer—it was sweeter, with strong notes of cinnamon and spice. Where there should have been roots, I could only see a blurry area that my eyes refused to focus on properly, although now that I was back in cat form, I did have an excellent view of the bright octarine aura marking Filif as a powerful mage.

"Ow," said Filif.

Urruah purred excitedly. "Filif! Everyone thought you were dead!"

"Urruah? Is that you?" said Filif. "I thought you were dead!"

"Pssh, sa'Rrahh herself couldn't keep me down for long! But never mind me, though, where have you been?! Your planet is—"

"It's not just my planet," Filif interrupted. "We need to mobilize, and quickly—there's so little time! How long have I been gone?"

"It's been six months for us since we got word of your disappearance."

"Six months!" This news seemed to hit hard. Filif slumped. "Am I too late? I…I thought there would be more time to prepare…"

"We've already committed a lot of people to save Demisiv," Urruah said. "I mean, they made me a Senior, so you know we're stretched thin. Are you saying that was a distraction, and the real attack is…?"

"No, that's the thing, both attacks are real! It's an assault on two fronts! While my planet burns, the fabric of time is being undermined by the forces of entropy!"

I felt like I was following maybe 80% of this conversation, but it definitely seemed like there was a dire situation of some sort unfolding.

Mal gasped. "Are you saying time itself is in danger, too?" she whispered.

"Yes!" Filif answered. "Well, sort of. It's hard to explain. Um."

Sah'hli tugged at an invisible string, then looked startled. "The place you came from…it's…it's so dark, and…and hopeless!"

"Yeah, uh, it sucked. I look forward to never going there again. One daring escape from the Lone One's personal dimension is enough for me. Good news is, I got something out of it." A cube formed out of what appeared to be yellow light appeared in Filif's branches. "A temporal key. This is what we need to repair the damage to the fabric of time! Assuming we can get it where it needs to be. And it isn't horribly booby-trapped. And the bad guys don't catch up with me and kill us all first."

"Well, shit," said Urruah. "Where does it need to go?"

"I…have no idea," Filif admitted, putting the cube away again in whatever extradimensional pocket it had been pulled from. "Um. Somewhere. I'm sorry, Urruah, I'm tapped out like you wouldn't believe. All I want to do is root down and rest, but…well, you know how it is with these things."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Hannah asked.

Filif rustled nervously, filling the air with the smell of cinnamon. "Maybe? Uh…apologies, cousins, I'm afraid I don't know who most of you are."

"Oh. I can do introductions," said Urruah. "Filif, meet Hannah, an arcanist; Mallory and Katelyn, two partners, both arcanists as well; and Sah'hli, my apprentice. Kids, I'd like you to meet Filifermanhathrhumneits'elhessaiffnth, or Filif for short. She's a Demisiv wizard from the planet Demisiv who spends enough time on Earth to be the de facto ambassador between our respective planets."

"Actually, I've switched genders again since we last met. I'm a 'he' now," Filif corrected. "It's good to meet you all."

"Good to meet you too," said Mal.

"I don't think any of us has ever met a Demisiv before," Hannah said, entranced. "It's a pleasure, truly."

"I wish it were under better circumstances, but dai stihó, Filif," I chimed in. Talking trees from space weren't exactly in my comfort zone, but I was warming to this one quickly. Filif had a gentle sort of charisma about him, even in his current frazzled state. It was hard to imagine disliking him.

"Well, I'd be glad for all the help I can get. Um. I don't suppose any of you would happen to know where this temporal key belongs?"

The question was met with shrugs and shaking heads.

Filif sighed. Don't ask me how a tree can sigh. I don't know how he did it, but he did it. "Worth checking. Okay. Well, we need information. I don't suppose we can contact the Mobiles?"

Urruah flicked his tail. "You're talking about that silicon-based species of living supercomputers from a couple galaxies over that compulsively archives all known information in the universe? No, their remote communications are down, and we don't know why—although I'm starting to suspect."

"Damn. Even their mental connection with their mother?"

"Fuzzy and unreliable at this distance, even in the best of times."

"What does this temporal key do, exactly?" Mal asked. "Does it let you, like, travel through time, or…?"

Urruah looked thoughtful. "Well, no, but also, sort of. A worldgate like this one already allows for 'time travel' if you're approved for it—it's just that the temporal functionality stopped working recently, and now I think we might know why. But with a temporal key, maybe we could jump-start it for a transit or two."

"So, uh, can we go back in time to before comms went down, and ask them in the past?"

Filif swiveled towards Urruah. "Can we?"

"It would be dangerous, but it could work." He tilted his head. "And I can report that we've just been approved for the necessary timeslide, so the Powers are on board if we want to try it."

"Oh. Uh. Wow," said Mal. "Okay, so the gods have personally approved my plan. That's, uh, that's cool." She sat down, feeling a bit dazed. I took the opportunity to sit in her lap.

"Technically, they're more like demiurges than gods," Sah'hli supplied helpfully.

Urruah looked at her. "Sah'hli, do you think you can work with Filif to incorporate the temporal key into the gate's temporospatial coordinates? I'll be along shortly to help power it."

"Sure. Follow me, cousin." She padded off to the back room, and Filif shuffled unsteadily after her.

Urruah hopped up onto the windowsill to address Hannah, Mal, and me.

"So. This escalated quickly, huh?"

"You can say that again," Hannah remarked. Mal nodded in agreement.

"I want you girls to know that you don't need to get involved in any of this. I know you're thinking it, but it's not your responsibility to join a dangerous mission just because you happened to be standing nearby at the time."

He was right. Mal and I were definitely thinking it. "But you and Sah'hli have to work the gate," Mal pointed out. "And you can't just send Filif by himself in the state he's in. He needs some backup."

"Yeah, I mean, as much as I like to think I'm a pretty adventurous person, I can see how we wouldn't be your first choice to help with this," Hannah admitted. "We're just a couple of low-level wizards and familiars from the suburbs. But…like, it doesn't seem like you have a very deep bench at the moment? And the stakes seem pretty high."

I nodded.

"I know, I know. All of that is true, and it's probably not a coincidence that Filif's transit spell dropped him here with you all present. You're here now, and that means you're invited, even though you haven't taken the Oath. I just need you to understand the risk, and to understand that it's okay to decline the invitation. No one will think less of you if you do." His tone was serious. "People die on missions like these. Dying is not fun. I know that from personal experience."

"You've died?" I asked. I was a little confused on that point.

"Yes. I came back. Cats have nine lives. Humans don't."

Oh. Hmm. This raised interesting questions about what would happen to me if I died as a cat. I was not especially eager to find out the answers the hard way.

"There are also risks if we do this without you," Urruah continued. "If we go ahead with no backup, the chances of one or more of us getting hurt or dying go up significantly. And if the temporal key falls into our adversary's hands, we can expect timeslides everywhere to be locked down indefinitely. All wizardly interventions will need to be done in real time, with much less room for error. More interventions will fail that might have otherwise succeeded. Entropy will increase, and the death of the universe will arrive that much sooner."

"That's…pretty heavy stuff," Mal said.

"I agree. And you deserve to have as much information as I can give you to help you decide. I just wish I could give you more time to think about it. Do you have any questions?"

"I have a question," I said. "Are we the only backup available? Is there really no one else?"

"Good question. You are the only backup that is immediately available. If we delayed the mission, we could probably muster up someone else. However, time is of the essence, and that delay could easily be the difference between success and failure."

Hannah looked down at her jacket. "Cocoa, how do you feel about this?"

"I am against the death of the universe," squawked Cocoa from inside her pocket. "I like the universe. I am also against being in mortal peril. I would like to not be in charge of this decision, please."

"I guess it all boils down to one question," Mal said slowly. "On the one hand, we can risk our own safety to protect others. On the other hand, we can let other people absorb the risk to keep ourselves safe. It's an alignment test. Are we Good, or are we Neutral?"

Well. That certainly cut to the heart of things, didn't it? It's not often in your life that you're faced with such a clear choice between what's righteous and what's safe. I mean, little versions of it crop up all the time, but they're hardly ever framed in that kind of stark relief, you know?

"Good," I decided. "I mean, if it's okay with you, Mal, I'd like to be Good."

She hugged me. "Oh, thank the gods, Kate, I was really worried we wouldn't be on the same page! If I can be of help, I want to help, however I can. Let's be Good."

Hannah sat down, looking worried. "If you're going, then I'm going with you. I'm nervous about it, not gonna lie. But I have your back. Far's I'm concerned, we wizards stick together."

"Friends who write together, fight together," Mal said. Both girls smiled and shared a fist bump.

"So, uh, it sounds like you're going with the mortal peril," said Cocoa's muffled voice. "Are you going to need a lookout, or can I just hide in here the whole time, maybe?"

"A lookout would be really helpful, actually, now you mention it," Hannah said seriously.

"Aww, dang. Fair enough."

"Alright then," said Urruah. "Follow me."

The worldgate was beautiful.

It bore some resemblance to the tear in space that Filif had arrived through, but there was a sense of depth to it, elegant and unfathomable—as if rather than being ripped open, the air had been delicately sliced with a sharp knife and a skilled hand, leaving an oblong octarine cut in midair through which a blurry, shimmering view of the programmed destination was barely visible. Octamarine threads trailed from the edges of the worldgate, and if I looked closely, I could see that the whole magical structure was woven together out of those ethereal strings, which Urruah and Sah'hli seemed to be able to manipulate with all the grace of a master harpist.

Listen. If you dangle a piece of ordinary string in front of me, I will paw at it. That's just, I mean, that's basic stuff. You bat at it, y'know, maybe pounce a little, and make sure not to actually eat it because it's a choking hazard or whatever. But divine wizards take it to a whole 'nother level. The strings in the worldgate were, like, the world's spiciest ball of yarn. I wouldn't touch that spell even if I had a doctorate in Applied Quantum Mechanics.

Mal had taken a quick moment to dress herself in the extra layers I'd worn while I was in her body, and to don her knapsack of spellcasting supplies. Sitting on her shoulder, I could feel her mind fixating on all of her empty spell slots, wishing she had time to prepare something in them.

Cocoa was also perched on his wizard's shoulder now, and he was fidgeting nervously. Hannah patted him on the head to reassure him. She seemed to be oscillating between nervousness and excitement.

"Are we all ready?" Filif said, somehow managing to look tired, but also resolute. Seriously, for someone without a face, he really was extraordinarily expressive.

"I don't think I'm getting any readier," Mal said. Hannah nodded.

"Remember, the goal is to get the information and get back safely," Urruah said. "Try not to contaminate the past with knowledge of the future, and definitely don't lose the temporal key, or you might find yourself coming home the long way round. Which would be bad. Understand?"

We all nodded. Get in, get out, don't cause a paradox, don't get stuck in the past. Easy.

Naturally, three reptilian humanoids chose that moment to materialize just outside the doorway and point guns at us.

Chapter Text

One of them fired, and a laser beam narrowly missed Filif, carving a burnt trench into the wall behind him.

"Shit!" said Sah'hli. "Make the weapons go away!"

She pulsed with energy, and the guns flew out of the reptilians' hands and vanished. They hissed and began advancing toward us. Urruah slashed at the air, and the attackers were knocked off their feet and thrown backwards. "Go! We've got this!" he shouted.

Mal and I were both frozen.

"He's right, we need to go," Filif said urgently. "Come on!"

Hannah grabbed Mal's hand, snapping her out of her shock, and before I knew what was happening, we were tumbling through the open worldgate, landing in a heap of limbs and branches. Through the other side of the portal, I saw Urruah's silhouette tugging at an octarine string, and the gate zipped closed behind us, blocking any pursuit—hopefully.

Welp. That, uh, that was…bracing.

"Ow," said Hannah. "Is everyone okay?"

I examined my surroundings. Cocoa was perched on top of Hannah, who seemed to have broken my fall as well. Hannah was sprawled out face-down next to Mal, whose lower body was pinned underneath Filif.

We were in a corridor. It smelled generally grungy—I wasn't skilled enough yet with my feline olfactory senses to get anything more specific than that. There was graffiti on one of the walls, and it looked like a sign was posted a little further down, although I couldn't read it from here.

"I'm okay…I think," said Mal shakily. "A little bruised, but nothing feels broken."

"I'm okay too. Sorry about that," Filif said, righting himself so that she could stand. "Oof. Twice in one day. I need to stop falling out of gates before I break all my branches."

Hannah sighed. "I'm fine, except…" She propped herself up on her elbows and picked up her glasses. They'd fallen off her face; one of the lenses had cracked, and the other was completely shattered. "…I don't think these are going to be much good anymore."

I meowed sympathetically.

"I'm fine too," said Cocoa. "Where are we? Also, when are we?"

"You're underneath Manhattan," a new voice said in the Speech. I looked behind me. A young male cat about Sah'hli's age with black and white fur had appeared in the corridor, seemingly out of nowhere. "It's the summer of 2012. Dai stihó. Visiting from the future?"

"That obvious, huh?" I said.

"Nah, I just know because it was flagged in the gate logs. You're off-target, too. Thought I'd check it out. What year are you coming from?"

"2024," I replied.

"Neat. I'm Arhu. Junior worldgate technician. What's your business in the past?"

"We are on errantry, and we greet you," Filif said. "Sorry, Arhu, it's a secret mission, can't tell you the details. Say hi to the rest of the team for me, though!"

"Uh…sure, definitely, definitely…who are you again?"

"You don't remember me? We worked together during the…" Filif trailed off. "Ah. No. Wait. Never mind. Just, uh…don't worry about it!"

"Okaaay, well, I look forward to…uh, whatever that's about…happening on my end."

"I think I already hate the Temporal Prime Directive," Mal remarked. "I have this sudden terrible urge to warn you about the horrible dangerous things that are going to happen in 2012."

Arhu cocked his head. "Probably a bad idea to do that."

Mal shrugged. "It's just as well. I don't think I even remember what happened in 2012. I was five years old; I wasn't exactly paying attention to the news at the time."

My ninth birthday would have been coming up soon. Right now, somewhere in the greater Sacramento area, a young Katie Winters was probably spending her summer vacation arguing with her baby brother about whose turn it was on the trampoline and then eventually settling the matter with a spreadsheet. I think this was the year I broke my arm, actually. That trampoline was always an accident waiting to happen.

Hannah placed her broken glasses in her pocket. "We should get a move on. Filif, where are we headed from here?"

"We need to get in touch with the Mobiles, and that means getting in touch with their mother. She has a direct link to them."

"Uh, is this the secret part that I'm not supposed to hear?" said Arhu.

"Eh, you were going to eavesdrop anyway."

"Wow, you really do know me!"

"In that case, may as well warn you that we might be chased by space lizardfolk with ray guns," Mal said.

"Could be here any minute," Cocoa added. He had perched himself on top of Hannah's head and was scanning the corridor in both directions, alert for any potential threat. You could tell he was shaken by the encounter with the reptilians because he didn't seem to have any qualms about turning his back to Arhu. At this point, an unfamiliar cat was nothing compared to laser lizards.

"Oh, dang! I'll let the rest of the team know. If we can set up an intercept checkpoint for any incoming transits where weaponry is detected, we could really slow down your pursuit." Arhu closed his eyes like he was concentrating.

"While he's working on that, how do we get in touch with your contact, Filif?" said Hannah, pushing the discussion back on track.

"At this point in the timeline, if I'm remembering right, she should either be on the planet Wellakh, or…nope! Never mind! I'm being told she's currently at her home in Long Island!" Filif said. "That's good news! It means we should be able to reach her by telephone!"

Evidently, Filif's equivalent of a Manual was also whispered directly to him by the Powers that Be, and he was currently receiving a real-time update. That made sense, I guess—it would be a little weird if a species of sapient trees had spellbooks made from paper.

Hannah got out her cell phone. "I don't have any bars here," she said.

"Me neither," said Mal. Perhaps we'd gone back to a time before their phone service providers had cellular network infrastructure in place here. Or perhaps the signal just sucked in this tunnel.

"Are there any pay phones around here?" I asked.

Mal raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Do they even still have pay phones? I mean, I know we went back in time, but we didn't go that far back in time, right?"

"The rest of my team is officially looped in," Arhu reported. "They're working on the interception spell now. And pay phones are definitely in decline in 2012, but we still have 'em! There's a working phone booth around the corner."

"Hot damn, the good luck is flowing!" Hannah said cheerfully. "I've even got some coins to pay for it, too! Lead the way, Arhu!"

Arhu seemed to bristle a little at being told what to do, but he flicked his tail in acknowledgement and led us down the corridor and around the corner to an empty stairwell, where a dingy phone booth waited. The door was missing, the walls were marred by graffiti, and although there was a phone book attached to a chain, it looked like it was missing half its pages. But the important thing was that it worked.

"I've never used a pay phone before," Hannah remarked as she picked up the receiver and dropped some quarters into the slot. A dial tone sounded. "This is kind of cool, actually."

"We don't have anything like it on my planet," said Filif. "Wizards operate openly on Demisiv, so we use magic for a lot of things humans use technology for. Oh, the number is (516) 555-6768, by the way."

Hannah dialed the number. "It's ringing," she said. "What should I say when they pick up?"

"Ask for Dairine," Filif suggested. "She'll have known me for about two years at this point."

"The progenitor of an entire silicon-based species is named 'Dairine'?" I whispered. Mal shrugged.

Chapter Text

"Callahan household, this is Harry Callahan," said a baritone voice on the other end of the line.

"Hi, um, is Dairine available?" said Hannah.

"Who should I say is calling?"

"Oh, uh, I'm Hannah, but I'm calling on behalf of Filif?"

"Ah! Tell him hello from me. Hold for a moment, I'll go get Dairine for you."

I heard the k-chunk sound of a phone being set down on a table. Hannah turned back towards Filif. "Harry Callahan says hello," she said. "I'm not entirely sure I understand all the context of what's happening here, but I'm just going with it."

"Well, you see, I stayed with the Callahans when I visited Earth for the first time as part of an interplanetary exchange program. Dairine and her father, Harry, hosted me and two other visiting wizards while her sister, Nita, visited the planet Alaalu. It was supposed to be a vacation, but we ended up having to save the world…long story. Anyway, we all ended up becoming good friends."

I cocked my head. "So…you were a foreign exchange student here? That's pretty wild."

"I cannot adequately express in words how much I want to sign up for this exchange program," Hannah said.

A female voice came from the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hello!" Hannah replied. "Um…hi!"

"This is Dairine," the voice said. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Ah, well, my name's Hannah, I'm a wizard, and I'm calling because Filif said you might be able to help contact, uh, the Mobiles?"

There was a pause. "I can do that, yes. Why? What's wrong?"

"I'm…not sure how to explain it. Um. It's something about…" Hannah lowered her voice. "Something about a temporal key."

"...I don't know what that is, but it sounds vaguely MacGuffin-y." Dairine replied. "I never much liked chasing after MacGuffins."

"It is a bit MacGuffin-y, yes," Hannah said apologetically. "Some angry alien lizardfolk already tried to shoot us over it, too."

"I never much liked being shot at, either."

"What do you think? Can you help?"

"That depends. Are you secretly evil, and only pretending to be a friend of Filif's in order to get me to tell you the location of your thingy so you can use it to take over the universe?"

"Um." Hannah scratched her chin. "No? No, I'm pretty sure I'm not evil, secretly or otherwise."

"Say it in the Speech."

This request was reasonable. According to Sophia, it was impossible, or at least extremely inadvisable, to tell a lie in the Speech. Very bad things could happen to you if you tried. She was vague on the details. Unfortunately, in this case, Hannah didn't know the Speech; she wasn't that kind of wizard.

"I don't know the Speech. I'm not that kind of wizard."

"What other kind of wizard is there?" Dairine demanded.

"The Dungeons & Dragons kind?" Hannah offered.

"Is Filif with you? Put him on."

"Just a second." Hannah put a hand over the receiver and looked at Filif. "She wants to talk to you. Does your language even work over the phone?"

"Uh…some of it does! Phones don't get all the nuances, which is why I normally use a cross-compatible mobile communications device that Carmela bought me, but that's out of commission right now. Here, hold it for me, I'll do my best."

"Do we know who 'Carmela' is?" Mal whispered to me, as Filif attempted to convince Dairine that our group was legit.

"I don't think so," I whispered back. "I really wish this time-traveling adventure came with footnotes. It would be much easier to follow."

"Agreed."

"Hey, Arhu, do you know who Carmela is?" I asked.

Arhu looked up from his shameless eavesdropping. "From context, I'd guess Carmela Rodriguez. If Filif knows Nita and Dairine Callahan, he'll definitely know Kit Rodriguez, too, because Kit is Nita's partner, and if he knows Kit, it would make sense for him to know Carmela, because she's Kit's older sister. She's not a wizard, but she knows the Speech and she does a lot of interplanetary travel, so she's definitely wizard-adjacent."

"Additional names and relationships for me to remember," I lamented. "Are these all humans that we're talking about, at least?"

"The ones I just mentioned, yes. You should ask the Whisperer for a rundown of everything."

"We don't, uh, we don't have access to the Whisperer, unfortunately. We're not that kind of wizard."

"Right, yes, I definitely knew that the whole time!" Arhu said. "Well, I wouldn't stress too much about it. If it turns out to be important, just introduce yourself when the time comes. You'll be fine."

"Oh, hey, speaking of stress, Mal, you should take your anxiety meds. I packed a dose for you."

"Oh! Thank you, Kate! Good thinking!" Mal rummaged in her knapsack for the little baggy of pills I'd stuck in the front pocket for after we swapped back. One less thing to worry about!

Suddenly, there was a loud pop, and two figures appeared out of nowhere in the corridor next to us. Cocoa squawked in alarm, and I instinctively arched my back and puffed out my fur.

But it wasn't a new set of attackers. It was a short teenage girl with pale skin, red hair, and a serious expression on her face. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a Star Wars t-shirt, and she looked like she might have been fifteen or sixteen years old. Accompanying her was what appeared to be…a laptop computer, but with legs?

I blinked. Yes, that was definitely a laptop walking around on four legs. A MacBook, by the look of it. Okay, I guess, uh, on balance, that was probably only the fourth or fifth weirdest thing I'd seen today? Was this what it was always going to be like to work with divine wizards? It was starting to feel like the genre of my life was increasingly blurring the line between urban fantasy and sci-fi.

Well, nothing wrong with a little sci-fi. I could roll with it.

"Dairine! It's great to see you!" said Filif cheerfully.

Dairine looked him up and down. "Great to see you too, Fil! You've gotten a lot taller since I last saw you."

"Well, you know what we trees are like, always growing, ha ha!" Filif rustled nervously.

Dairine raised an eyebrow. Then she took stock of the group that was gathered in the corridor, eyeing each of us in turn. "You two are the D&D wizards?" she asked, gesturing at Hannah and Mal. "And their respective familiars?" She gestured at Cocoa and me.

"That's right," Mal said. "Mallory Avalon, D&D-style wizard, at your service. You can call me Mal. And my familiar here is Katelyn Winters."

"You must be Dairine," I said. "Good to meet you. I'm Kate. Used to be a human, got turned into a cat by accident, and now I'm soulbonded with this lovely wizard here." I patted Mal's head with my paw.

"And I'm Hannah, and this is Cocoa," Hannah added. "It's a pleasure."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Dairine Callahan, and this is Spot." She gestured to the walking laptop. "Don't mind him, he can be shy around new people."

"Hey, looks like I'm being called back to Grand Central, but it's good to see you, Dairine! And good to not meet you yet, everyone else! Go well!" Arhu vanished.

"Bye, Arhu!" Dairine gave the departing cat a nod, then rounded on our group, arms akimbo. "Now, what sort of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey nonsense is happening here? Are you here from the future to save the present or something?"

"Um. Nooo…?" Filif said unconvincingly.

"Hey, a fellow Doctor Who fan!" Mal said, offering a high five.

Dairine begrudgingly returned the high five. "Peter Davison is my favorite Doctor," she admitted.

"I like Jodie Whitaker! Especially her first season! She does a really good job of…uh…" Mal trailed off, belatedly realizing that Jodie Whitaker's first season hadn't aired yet. "I mean, uh…"

Dairine was giving her a blank look. "Jodie who now?"

"No, no, not Jodie, Codie, Codie Baker! That's, uh, that's my nickname for Colin Baker, because…because, um…reasons…?"

"Nobody's favorite is Colin Baker. You're definitely from the future," Dairine said confidently.

Mal shuffled her feet. "Dammit."

Chapter Text

"Don't feel too bad; I already knew. Spot picked up the Bluetooth signals from your cell phones. He identified yours as a 2023 model."

"Oh."

"So, as curious as I am about this whole concept of D&D wizards, let's table that for now, and you can tell me why you're here in 2012 asking me about temporal keys for a mission so secret that I can't even get a précis in my Manual." She looked at Filif expectantly.

"Well…"  

Filif launched into a debriefing of the current situation in broad enough terms to (hopefully) minimize spoilers for what was going to happen in 2024. During this recap, Hannah moved closer to lean up against the wall next to us.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," Mal replied.

"I noticed you froze up earlier, before we went through the gate. You holding up okay?"

Mal fidgeted. "I, uh, yeah. I think so."

"If you need to talk about it…"

"No…no, really, it's…it's fine. But thanks. For offering. And, uh, for snapping me out of it."

Hannah nodded.

People have different reactions to unexpected crisis situations. Some people stay cool, others scream, or panic, or freeze. I don't think you ever know what type you are until you find yourself in a crisis. Turns out, I'm the freezing type, and so is Mal. That's nothing to be ashamed of, really, but it was disappointing nonetheless. I mean, we all want to be the cool-headed one, don't we? I was really hoping at least one of us would be.

My understanding is that the real key isn't any inherent bravery, it's preparation and training. That's why we have fire drills, yeah? So that if there's a fire, it's a well-known, well-understood emergency, and we all know how to react to it without having to form brand-new neural pathways, or whatever. Space lizards popping out of nowhere to shoot you and your tree friend with death rays is not something most of us ever planned for. Right?

"The enemy had a surprise round against us," I said confidently. "And we rolled poorly on our Initiative check. That's all. Next time, we'll do better."

Mal smiled. "Good point, Kate. Thanks. Let's hope we don't give up any more surprise rounds, though. I don't think I like having the flat-footed condition."

It looked like Dairine and Filif had finished their debriefing session. Dairine turned to address the whole group. "Okay, people, listen up. Good news is, you were definitely right to come to me. I can use Spot as a remote uplink to the Motherboard, and the Mobiles can analyze the temporal key without us having to go to their planet in person. Which is good, because their planet is an absolutely absurd distance from here and we aren't currently lucky enough to have subsidized transit at that scale."

"What's the bad news?" I asked.

"The bad news is it'll take time to run the analysis. Their processing power is enormous, but not unlimited, and they're juggling a lot of projects right now. Between that and the distance factor, expect a delay of somewhere along the lines of 24 to 48 hours."

"That's not too bad," Hannah said. "I mean, at least we can use that time to rest and recharge, right?"

"But it'll give our enemies more time to catch up with us and chase us down," Mal pointed out.

"A delay is bad for us," Filif agreed. "But since we don't have much choice, we may as well make the best of it. Let's just not sink our roots too deeply into the soil—or, what's that phrase you use here…let's sleep with one eye open?"  

"I can help keep watch. I'm good at keeping watch," Cocoa said. "Well, except at night, when it's dark and/or I'm asleep. I'm a crow, not an owl."

Dairine started pacing. "You'll need someplace to stay. I could put you up at my house, and you'd be relatively well-hidden there. Or if you prefer, we could ask Carmela to book a room at the Crossings on Rirhath-B, where the security is a lot beefier—wards against violence and such—but then you'd be going out in public, and there would be more witnesses to track you. What do you think?"

Hannah sighed. "As much as I would love to visit an alien space port, I don't think this is the best time to play tourist. It pains me to say it, but in the interest of being harder to trace, I vote to stay on Earth."

"I agree," I said. "Also, I assume interacting with fewer people should mean fewer opportunities to contaminate the timeline."

"Good point, Kate. Dairine, I think we'll put our roots down at your house tonight, assuming it's alright with your father."

She waved a hand dismissively. "He's used to having unusual visitors, especially for fate-of-the-universe stuff. He'll understand." She hesitated. "I guess I should still let him know, though. Spot, compose a message for Dad, body text: Filif plus two humans, one corvid, one feline staying over at our house tonight. Errantry business. Hope that's okay."

"Verbal entry received," said the computer in a male voice that sounded like a text-to-speech generator. "Send message?"

"Yes, please. And CC Nita on that too."

"Message sent."

"Thank you, Spot."

Spot beeped cheerfully.

"Okay!" said Dairine, clapping her hands together. "Normally, I'd say we should ride public transit to save energy, but we're trying to avoid being out in public, so a direct short-range transit seems like the way to go. Shall I do the honors?"

We all indicated that we were ready.

"Spot, load group transit to Home and enable anti-tracking measures. Six to beam up. Run."

Lines of text in the written form of the Speech scrolled across Spot's display, then there was a whirring sound, and then a loud pop of displaced air, and we were in Dairine's very ordinary-looking backyard. It was late afternoon, and the weather was sunny and pleasant. And, unlike our last experience with teleportation magic, we arrived in the same standing positions we'd been in when we left. I found this greatly preferable to the "everyone lands in one big heap" method.

"So, this is Long Island," Hannah remarked. "Never been. Nice weather this time of year."

"Yep! Make yourselves at home!" said Dairine. "There's a low-level privacy screen here to keep the neighbors from noticing any wizardy stuff, and I hacked the home security system ages ago to detect magical means of ingress, so if any more bad guys try to teleport in, we'll have advance warning. It's not much, but it's something."

I breathed a sigh of relief at that. It would have been impossible to sleep with the specter of "scry-and-die" ambush looming over our heads.

Filif settled into the soil of the backyard with a sound that I interpreted as another sigh of relief. "I'm just going to root here for a while, if that's okay. I'm exhausted."

"Good. Rest," Dairine said, patting him fondly. "You'll probably need it soon enough. Everyone else—are you hungry at all? I don't know what time of day you're coming from, but we're coming up on dinnertime here."

"I am a little hungry," said Hannah.

"I already had a slice of pizza before we went through the gate," I said. "These humans, though, they haven't been properly fed and watered yet."

"Hey, I would have had pizza too, if I weren't a cat at the time," Mal said.

"Mal, all the other cats ate it, and they were fine," I pointed out.

She crossed her arms. "Yeah, well, the other cats probably have magic that prevents them from getting sick from it."

"Anchovies don't belong on pizza," Hannah said firmly. "They're too strong. They overpower all the other flavors and make the whole thing just taste like a fish pie."

"I've had fish pie before," Mal mused. "It was fine, if you like fish."

"I like fish," said Cocoa. "I also like food in general. I will gladly accept your offer of 'dinner,' red-haired human whose name I've forgotten!"

Dairine rolled her eyes. "I'm going to take all that as a collective 'yes.' C'mon inside and let's get you some food."

Chapter Text

"Hey, Dad, did you get my message?" Dairine yelled as we followed her in through the back door.

Her father was reading the newspaper in their living room. He turned around to inspect our group. "I did. What's the occasion this time?" he asked.

"The usual. Errantry business."

Mal stepped forward and offered a handshake. "Harry Callahan, I presume? I'm Mal Avalon, and this is my familiar, Kate Winters. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," he said, setting his newspaper down and returning the handshake.

Hannah waved. "And we spoke on the phone. I'm Hannah Weiss, and this is Cocoa. Your daughter offered to let us crash here for tonight, if that's alright with you."

He shrugged. "Just for one night? I don't see why not. What harm could it do?"

Mal grimaced. "Ah, well, in the interest of full disclosure, there might be violent bad guys trying to track us down."

"Oh. I see. Well, if a fight breaks out, take it outside, please. I'm not looking to have to replace all the furniture. Again."

His was the voice of a weary man who had seen too much of the magical world. I sympathized.

"Nita's still not home, right?" Dairine asked.

"That's right," said Harry. "Still out with Kit."

Dairine groaned. "She's normally the one who cooks dinner. Well, there should be some leftovers in the fridge."

Three hungry teenage girls (and one hungry crow) descended upon the leftover spaghetti and mashed potatoes.

"So, Dairine," Mal said, "do you mind if I ask about the Mobiles? Filif mentioned that they're basically living supercomputers, but I'm not sure I understand what your connection is with them."

"Oh, that's a long story," said Dairine. "So, when I first became a wizard, day one, I decided to go to space."

I nodded. "As one does."

"Right. One of the planets I went to was the Motherboard. Basically a planet-sized sentient computer. I made first contact, we chatted, Spot facilitated a mind meld thing between us, and I ended up helping the Motherboard to spin off a species of cute little supercomputer guys."

"The Mobiles."

Dairine nodded. "The Mobiles. It turns out they have incredible processing power and mathematical ability, and every single one of them is a wizard. And…I'm kind of their mom!"

"Is Spot one of them?" Hannah asked. "He's pretty cute."

"No, the Mobiles have more of a cyber turtle look to them. Spot is someone else entirely. I'm a huge computer geek, so the Powers sent me a Manual in computer form. He wasn't originally sapient, but that mind-to-mind contact with the Motherboard changed him, and now he has a mind of his own." Dairine reached down to scratch her computer, who responded by humming happily. "He's a good boy," she added.

"Is it common for a Manual to come in a form other than a book?" Mal asked.

"At this time, approximately 68% of human wizards in the Eastern United States receive their wizardry from a book or other analog device," Spot recited. "Approximately 17% receive the Knowledge directly into their minds, and approximately 14% use electronic devices such as computers or MP3 players. These ratios vary from region to region."

Dairine gave a little there you have it gesture.

Wow. MP3 players. We really were in the past. I used to have an iPod as a kid. I loved that little thing.

"How do you get your wizardry?" said Dairine. "Is your Manual written like a D&D book, or something?"

"It's a different magic system entirely," Hannah explained. "We don't use the Speech for it, we don't say anything like an Oath, and we have to write our own spellbooks from scratch, just like wizards in the game do. Actually, the game mechanics are based on real-world arcane methodologies."

"Your people usually refer to us as 'Arcanists,'" Mal added.

Spot chirped. "Information is available on this topic."

Dairine patted Spot on the…head? "He's talkative today! Normally he's quieter around strangers; I guess he likes you."

"We need to prepare spells in advance before we can cast them," Mal said. "Actually, I ought to prepare some ASAP. I wasn't able to this morning."

This led into a tangent about whether it was appropriate for Dairine to observe Mal's spell preparation process to learn more about it, or if that would unnecessarily contaminate the past with information from the future and violate the Temporal Prime Directive. Good points were made on both sides. In the end, it was concluded that Spot's existing knowledge banks were adequate and no further study was necessary.

And so it was that Mal was finally able to fill her spell slots back up again—including a couple of non-lethal combat spells that we hoped we wouldn't need to use.

It wasn't long before we started to get tired. Which didn't really make sense, because although we had traveled back in time, we had also traveled from California to New York, skipping ahead three time zones from early afternoon to late afternoon. You would expect us to be jet-lagged in the other direction and have trouble falling asleep, right? Nope! The exact opposite! Was it a side effect of time travel, or was it just exhaustion? Beats me!

What I do know is that once we settled down to sleep on the couch in the living room, we drifted quickly off to sleep.

Chapter Text

"Why do you trust them?"

The man stood with his back toward me, facing the window of his penthouse office, hands clasped behind his back.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Just what I said. Why do you trust them, Kate?"

"Who?"

"Those meddling busybodies who call themselves wizards. People you've never met. Talking trees, talking cats. They claim to have the universe's best interests at heart…so they say. What makes you think they're telling the truth?"

I looked around. "Who are you? Where am I? Where's Mal?"

The man waved his hand dismissively without turning around. "She'll join us shortly. But you're changing the subject, Kate. I asked my question first. I'd like to hear your answer."

"I don't know. They seem nice. Why do you ask?"

"They seem nice, and yet they recruit children as soldiers in their wars, to fight and die in the name of Powers they don't fully comprehend. Is that right?"

"Where are we?" asked Mal. She was suddenly standing behind me. "Who's this guy?"

"Ah, Miss Avalon, kind of you to join us," said the man. "Your familiar and I were just chatting about your new friends. I wonder how well you truly know their organization."

Mal looked confused. "What?"

"You don't find it suspiciously convenient that your little group just happened to be the only ones available to help in a life-or-death situation that just happened to crop up on the same day you came to visit? Oh, and it's so urgent! No time to think, just act!" The man's tenor voice was dripping with irony. "Quite the coincidence, wasn't it?"

"I mean, they seem nice," Mal said.

"See? That's what I told him, too," I said. "He's being really cagey about answering my questions for some reason."

"That's pretty sus," said Mal. "Who are you, anyway? I don't know you. What are you doing in our dream?"

"Oh, but you do know me, I think, even though, perhaps, we may never have spoken."

The man gestured for us to sit. Two chairs were waiting for us in front of a stark executive desk with no nameplate. Once we were seated, he turned around and pulled up his own chair on the other side of the desk.

He was a white male who might have been in his early thirties, dressed in gray slacks and a blue polo shirt. He looked like he could have been the CEO of half the tech startups in Silicon Valley, except for his eyes. There was something about his eyes—they were pitch black, like miniature black holes that sucked the light out of the air around them. I shivered.

"Who am I? I am the fairest and fallen, the change which comes unbidden and unwelcome, the waves that grind the shore to dust, the bird who sharpens its beak on the mountain. Or, more precisely, I am the Lone Power: God of Entropy, Ruin, and Death." He smiled, showing his teeth. "It's so kind of you to visit."

Mal and I shared a look.

"Are you getting really skeevy vibes off this guy too?" she asked.

"I mean, he did use the word 'meddling' a minute ago," I pointed out. "And he was staring out of a giant skyscraper window with his hands clasped behind his back. That's some Lex Luthor shit right there."

"So quick to judge," he said, shaking his head. "But I am a part of you both, am I not? Death is within you all your life, and it will claim you one day. We are connected, you and I, else we could not meet in dreams as now we do. To judge me is to judge thyself."

"Now he's using archaic second-person pronouns," I remarked.

"We judge ourselves all the time, you know," Mal said. "I don't think that's the gotcha you seem to think it is." I nodded.

He frowned. "You're not taking this very seriously, are you?"

Mal shrugged. "It's only a dream, isn't it? It's not like we're really…uh…where are we, anyway?"

"My realm." He gestured toward the window. Outside, I could see a shadowy cityscape, choked by noxious-looking smog, lit only by the hellish-orange glow of wildfires in the distance. "There is a certain beauty to it, don't you think? A dark kind of beauty, but beauty nonetheless."

"I'm not sure I like it," I said.

He shrugged. "You don't have to like it. It is the future that awaits your civilization, someday. In the end, all things fall to Ruin."

"Yes, well, speaking for myself, I think I'd like to stave off that particular apocalypse for as long as possible, no matter how darkly beautiful it is from a certain point of view," Mal commented. "No offense."

"Agreed," I said.

The Lone Power gave us a look of disgust. "You sound just like those 'wizards' you've attached yourselves to. Always insinuating themselves into the way of things. Interfering with my work. But do they understand what the universe would look like without me?

"It would be a universe frozen in amber. With no entropy, there can be no growth, no change. There is no Life without Death. No love, no passion, only stagnation, an empty existence, devoid of any meaning or drive. Would you be rid of me, as they so often seem to wish? Would you carve me out of the universe and leave only a quiet husk, perfectly still, preserved for eternity?"

He somehow managed to sound both smug and indignant at the same time.

"Didn't you send your minions to try and straight-up murder Filif just a couple hours ago?" Mal pointed out.

He leaned forward over the desk, staring at us with those black hole eyes. "I am a force of nature, Miss Avalon. If a hurricane blows down your home, do you swear vengeance against the wind? Do you recruit an army of child soldiers to charge into tornadoes in your name?"

"Okay. You're obviously the hurricane in that metaphor. Which means you did send them."

"I feel like 'Don't send minions with guns to attack us' is not a lot to ask," I added. "It would be great if we could all agree on that."

He leaned back again in his chair and grinned. "I can see I'm not getting through to you like I hoped. Very well. Your request is reasonable. A truce, then: you and your comrades on this…misguided quest of yours need not fear any further aggression on my behalf. Until you return to your native time stream, and for two days thereafter, you will be in no further danger from me and mine than the standard perils of your everyday life shall warrant. Nor will I exact revenge for any actions you take against me during this time. So I have said, and so it shall be." He raised his eyebrows. "Happy?"

I felt a little bit confused. "Just like that? What's the catch? Do promises in dreams not count, or something?"

"Oh, this is a dream, but make no mistake, it is very real, and a bargain struck here is just as binding—for both parties. I'm sure your friend Grace can attest to that. No, there is no catch. You see, I don't need a catch." His face was suddenly stern. "I won't compel you to return my temporal key, because I don't need to. It will return to me, one way or another. Everything does, in the end."

"Then why call a truce in the first place? What's your game?"

"No trick, no subterfuge," he said. "I simply feel that the price I have already extracted is sufficient. But by all means, second-guess. Keep looking over your shoulder, if paranoia gives you comfort. There is no one chasing you, nor will there be."

"What price have you already extracted?" Mal asked suspiciously.

He smiled. "Fear. A modicum of respect, which I sense in you despite your glib façade. And, I confess, a petty satisfaction at seeing your new friend Urruah embarrassed. He has been a thorn in my side in the past, and after that dire speech he gave you about death and peril, it amuses me to prove him wrong. Ultimately, the injuries you've suffered were at his hand, not mine. He'll hate that."

"What injuries?" I asked.

"Yeah, I don't think we actually got hurt, did we?" said Mal, perplexed.

"Did you think time travel is a toy? That you could play with it safely and then put it back in the toy chest for another day?" The Lone Power laughed. "A trip so far into the past…oh, it will leave scars. You're already feeling the effects. You must have wondered why you tired so quickly today."

Shit. I had wondered that.

"I'm sure he didn't mean to send you back quite this far," the Lone One continued. "Such a shame, isn't it, that the wizards in charge of operating the Gate were distracted. A temporal key can be such a difficult variable to account for, especially under pressure. And with both of them so new to the San Francisco Worldgate! They can be forgiven for losing a decade one way or the other, can't they? Oh, in the end, it won't be too bad, so long as you make it back to 2024 in short order. Normally, the effects wear off quickly once you return to your own time."

He paused. "Of course, normally, wizards aren't using a temporal key to jailbreak a worldgate and bypass security lockouts that were set in place by one of the Powers that Be, hmm? I think you'll find that your symptoms will last a good deal longer than expected."

"Oh, you bastard," I growled.

"There's no need to be so hostile, Kate. It's not as if you're going to waste away into nothing…well, not any sooner than anyone else does, at least. Not unless you fail to return to your present. No, assuming all goes well for you, you can just expect chronic headaches, fatigue, a weakened immune response…perhaps even some disruption to your reproductive cycle! Won't that be fun?"

"No! Nothing about that is fun!"

"Well, don't get all snippy at me. I'm only the messenger," he replied, feigning offense. "I'm calling off my goons, aren't I? Surely a slightly lower quality of life for a few months—or years, even—is nothing compared to being disintegrated by blaster fire, is it not?"

I rolled my eyes. "Okay. I guess. Thanks for the truce, you snide, smug, villain-coded excuse for a deific entity. In the future, please stay out of our dreams, and don't call me Shirley."

"What she said," Mal agreed. "C'mon, Kate, let's wake up. This guy's an asshole."

We both stood up and began walking toward the door.

"Farewell, then!" said the Lone Power mockingly. "Enjoy being collateral damage in a conflict you never should have been involved in! And when you wake up, ask Dairine how old she was when she was drafted into this meat grinder!"

My eyes snapped open. The morning light was only just starting to seep into the Callahans' living room, and I could feel Mal stirring under her blanket. The memory of the dream was still vivid in my mind. In fact, I almost thought I heard malevolent laughter echoing from somewhere…

No. No, it was probably just my imagination.

Chapter Text

Hannah's cot was unoccupied, but I could hear her over in the other room, humming in the shower. More interestingly, the scent of frying bacon wafted in from the direction of the kitchen, accompanied by the distinctive gurgle of a coffee machine. Naturally, I hopped off the couch and stalked in to investigate, leaving Mal to her teenage slugabed ways.

"Dai stihó and good morning," said the girl who had taken charge of breakfast. She looked older than Dairine, with an average build and a smell that my nose recognized from elsewhere around the house. Her hair was more light brown than red, but there was a strong family resemblance.

"Nita Callahan, I presume?" I said.

"I see my reputation precedes me," she replied cheerfully. "Sorry I didn't get the chance to introduce myself yesterday—you were already asleep when I got back in. Katelyn, right?"

"The very same. I don't suppose some of that bacon is for me?" I meowed hopefully.

Not only did she offer me a whole strip of bacon and pat some of the grease off with a paper towel for me, she also gave me a saucer of some of the best cream I've ever tasted. I gotta say, she was making a very strong first impression.

"We don't get a lot of visitors from the future," Nita said as I chewed on my bacon. "Other planets? Sure. Other times? Not so common. I'm not used to seeing so many redacted sections in my Manual."

"Don't ask me how Game of Thrones ends," I replied. "You don't want to know. Trust me."

She laughed. "Okay, seriously, though, one of my specialties is prophecy, and I gotta tell you, it is refreshing not to be the only one around with future knowledge, but at the same time, I'm extremely jealous that you get to know the future without having to decode cryptic abstract dreams first."

"Technically, it's not the future for us, it's the past," I pointed out.

"That's fair."

"Oneiromancy, though, huh? Dream-based divination?" I lapped up some more cream thoughtfully. "Do you ever get visited by deific entities in your dreams? Because I'm pretty sure I had one of those nosing around mine last night."

"It happens," Nita said seriously, taking a sip of coffee. "That's a common way for the Powers to communicate with you, if you've gotten their attention somehow. I've had my share of those dreams—usually with the Lone Power."

"Oh, so you know him!"

She wrinkled her nose. "Is that who you spoke with? I hope it wasn't too bad for you. Most wizards face off against the Lone One pretty early in our careers, myself included. He's always been something of an arch-nemesis for us."

"How trustworthy would you say he is?" I asked. "Because he said…uh, some things…"

"You met the Lone Power, huh?" said Dairine from the doorway. She shuffled into the kitchen, took out a plate, and slid several slices of bacon onto it along with a package of Pop-Tarts from a box on the counter. Definitely not a healthy breakfast, but then again, who was I to talk? "Morning, Neets. Kate. Sorry to eavesdrop, but I wouldn't trust the Lone One farther than I could throw It if I were you."

Nita raised an eyebrow. "And how far is that, exactly?"

Dairine paused. "Hmm. Actually, now you mention it, I bet I could hurl that cosmic jerkwad at least halfway to Alpha Centauri. Okay, correction, I wouldn't trust the Lone One farther than Nita could throw It." She winked.

Nita crossed her arms, giving Dairine that annoyed glare that older sisters have been giving their younger siblings since time immemorial. "Don't make me turn your bacon into tempeh. I can and I will."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

Mal wandered into the room, yawning.

"Well, whatever…the point is," Dairine continued, "The Lone One loves tricking and misleading people into doing Its work for It. You have to take anything It tells you with a grain of salt. Actually, several grains. In fact, probably best to bring the whole shaker. G'morning, Mal."

"Good morning," said Mal blearily. "I heard there's bacon. Are we talking about that creepy guy from our dream? Because if so, he offered, um, a truce?"

Dairine furrowed her brow. Nita's expression was hard to read.

"Yeah," I said from down at Mal's feet. "Basically, uh, he said he was calling off his goons because he didn't need them, and he was satisfied by how fucked over we already are, or…something to that effect."

"Do you remember the exact words?" Nita said urgently.

Ah, shit. I did not. "Nope," I said. "Um…he talked about how his goons distracted the gatekeepers who sent us back here so that they couldn't account properly for the key? And he said it was going to cause us some really nasty, long-lasting side effects as a result, which he seemed very gleeful about."

"He claimed he was mostly keen on embarrassing…someone involved in sending us to the past," Mal added. "I guess I probably shouldn't say who, since that's future knowledge. But the Lone Power seemed to think it would be most embarrassing if we took this trip, got sick as a result, and it turned out Filif never needed our help in the first place."

Dairine looked thoughtful. "Dang. I suppose it could be a feint, to throw us off our guard?"

"Or it could be an attempt to save face," Nita said. "Maybe He knows He's lost this particular battle, and He's trying to make it out to sound like a victory."

"Or both at the same time," Dairine pointed out.

"Did He say these things as direct statements, or was it all couched in implications?" said Nita. "That's a go-to tactic for the Lone One. Say something that's technically true, but phrased or juxtaposed in just such a way that it leads you to the wrong conclusion."

I tried to think back to the dream. Now that she mentioned it, that skeevy guy had kind of been Socratic Method-ing us, hadn't he? I nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, he phrased a lot of it as questions with obvious implied answers. He was being really cagey. I called him out on it, even."

"That's true," Mal agreed. "I remember. He was like, 'Oh, I wonder how much you can trust those wizards! Oh, is it suspicious at all that they're recruiting kids? Oh, I'm just asking questions!' Cagey motherfucker. I'm seventeen. I'm, like, barely a kid."

The two Callahan sisters shared a glance. "I…don't think He was talking about you," Nita said.

"I don't think so either," I said. "Remember, Mal, before we woke up, he said to ask Dairine how old she was when she was…I think his words were 'drafted into the meat grinder'?"

"Oh. Yeah, he did, didn't he?"

Dairine frowned. "Really? That was supposed to be His argument?"

"I mean, you were only eleven. That is very young," Nita said.

"Yeah, it is. But I also kicked His butt when I was very young, specifically because I was very young," Dairine countered. "It's crazy how much more powerful wizards are during latency. The younger you are, the stronger you are. And I'm pretty sure I was the youngest wizard in the human race at the time. When I first started, I was scooping the cores out of stars to forge weapons for gods."

Mal stared. "Uh…"

"Long story. Okay, not that long—I scooped out part of the core of a star to help re-forge a divine weapon from Irish folklore. It was a whole big thing. But I couldn't do that today! I don't have anywhere near the raw power I had only a few years ago, and certainly not as much as I had during my Ordeal."

"Me neither," Nita admitted. "When you're a kid, you can do impossible things because you don't know they're impossible. It's also easier to learn new languages, which is a big deal when your life depends on mastering the Speech. And we aren't just handed power for no reason—every wizard is a solution to a problem that no one else is positioned to solve. That's the point of the Ordeal: to save lives. Sometimes whole planets."

"If the universe didn't need wizards, there wouldn't be any wizardry," Dairine said matter-of-factly as she unwrapped her Pop-Tarts.

"Basically, yeah," Nita agreed.

Wow. Okay, well, that was…logical, I guess? But I could see why the Lone Power would try to stoke our outrage about it. I couldn't help but wonder how Harry felt about having his daughters spending their middle school years roaming around the universe picking fights with gods.

"Do you mind if I ask what your Ordeal was like?" said Mal. "I've heard they can be really harrowing, but so far no one I've talked to about it has really gone into much detail."

"I don't mind, but before I do, as someone who deals with this sort of thing regularly, I think it would be a good idea to write down as much of your dream as you can remember first, while it's still relatively fresh in your mind," Nita said. She pulled a notepad and pencil out of thin air, tore off a sheet of paper, and offered it to Mal.

We all agreed that this was very sensible, so Mal and I wrote down what we could, which was not very much beyond what we'd already shared, but hey, every little bit could be useful, right?

The Lone Power had suggested that we weren't useful at all, and that our presence on this quest was pointless, and we would have been better off staying home. But wasn't that just what he wanted to think? He was anything but a credible, objective source. If we were going to be useful in fighting against him, he would have a vested interest in making us think it wasn't worth the effort, right?

Ugh. Trying to figure out what might be a bluff or a double-bluff was giving me a headache. And it looked like it was starting to give Mal a headache too.

…Wait. Shit.

Chapter Text

Okay, it definitely seemed like the Lone Power was not lying about the accelerated time sickness—or at least if He was lying, His lies were based on a grain of truth. All of the time travelers in our party were already feeling worn down.

"I suppose this probably goes without saying, but it seems like we ought to get back to 2024 as soon as possible," said Filif.

It was after breakfast, and we were all gathered in the living room to discuss our next move. Mal and Hannah were seated together on one couch, Dairine and Nita on another. I was draped over Mal. Cocoa had found a comfortable perch in Filif's branches, and Filif, who was standing off to the side of the room, seemed to have decided that it was an honor and a delight to have been chosen for this purpose.

"I agree, but we need the data first," said Hannah. "Dairine, what's the ETA like on that analysis?"

"Spot says somewhere between 3 and 12 hours," Dairine replied. "That's as precise as we can get at this point in time."

I flicked my tail nervously. "How long will it take us to get back to our time once we have the information we need?"

"Not long," Filif replied. "A quick personal gating spell can take us back to Manhattan, and the worldgate management team there will be able to use the temporal key to reverse our original timeslide."

"Is there anything we can do in the meantime to help?" Mal asked. She was feeling antsy.

I was right there with her, and not just in the literal sense. I mean, I was sitting in her lap, so I was also right there with her in the literal sense. But, y'know, emotionally speaking, I was feeling a little antsy myself.

The truth was, last night's dream really had rattled me. I couldn't stop thinking about how impulsive it had been to follow Filif on this excursion in the first place, and how little we'd actually contributed so far. Was the Lone One being sincere? Or was it all just a mind game? My thoughts were going round and round in circles, trying to figure it out.

Well, if it was just a mind game, it was clearly working.

"Sometimes, the hardest part of wizardry is sitting and waiting," Nita sighed.

"Tell me about it," Dairine agreed. "But you can't run your code until it's finished compiling, right?" She shrugged. "I'm used to it by now. I do a lot of multitasking. I'll have spell research in one tab, stellar mechanics research in another, Wellakhit history and culture in a third, and music playing over all of it."

"Research is a great idea!" said Hannah. There was a sparkle in her eyes that told me she was still brimming with questions about everything that was happening. "Do you think you could teach me some of your universal language? Lately I feel like Cocoa and I are the only members of my party who can't speak with cats."

"Marco can't either," I pointed out.

Hannah gestured toward me. "See, like right there, Kate said something and I didn't understand a word of it. It makes these conversations very confusing sometimes."

Dairine scratched her chin thoughtfully. "You know what, I think I can do you one better." She summoned Spot over to her and started typing. "Seeing as you guys only got dragged into this situation because you wanted to back up my friend, it couldn't hurt to give you a little extra backup of your own, right?" she continued without looking up. Then she double-tapped a key, and Spot blurred briefly.

I blinked.

There were now two identical Spots sitting there instead of one.

"Did you just…" Mal trailed off.

"Copy and paste? Yep!" Dairine grinned as one of the Spots scampered across the room to our couch. "He can do that. It's a very handy skill. Why don't you borrow this duplicate for a while?"