Рахма Крамбо - Guardian Cats And The Lost Books Of Alexandria

The cats stared at him in utter astonishment.

Tweezer plowed on. “What are you doing here? You don’t have to hunt for food. You’ve all gone soft. Come on and live a little. Break out of your routine.”

Caffeina thought Tweezer was overselling the mission, but she admired the spirit of his speech.

But the cats weren’t buying it.

“Adventure? Why in the world would we want an adventure? We like eating and sleeping and we love being spoiled by our human,” said one.

“Yeah, why would we risk our necks to fight wild raccoons? That’s not an adventure. That’s suicide!” said another.

Tweezer pleaded with them, which was something he wasn’t used to doing. “What if you were in trouble? Wouldn’t you want someone to come and rescue you?”

“Tweezer. Look around. In case you forgot, we’ve already been rescued."

Tweezer didn’t respond, and Caffeina worried he’d run out of arguments. Before she even realized what she was doing, she jumped onto the table next to him. “You don’t realize how serious this is. These raccoons are not only out for our blood, but you may well be their next victims. And then you’ll be begging for our help.”

“Well, well. The little princess has spoken,” said Lulu, an old female, who was not aging gracefully. “You’re scaring us, Princess.”

Contrary to her normal behavior, Caffeina ignored her. She’d deal with this female later. Besides, she was beginning to enjoy delivering this little pep talk.

“There’s more at stake here than defense and rescue. They’re planning a heist.”

Tweezer leaned over close to her. “You have to use simpler words,” he whispered.

“Oh, sure. Uh, a heist is like a burglary.” She looked at Tweezer and he motioned to go down a notch.

“Stealing.”

“Yeah, what can they steal from a cat?”

She knew it was going to sound strange, but what could she do? “A book. From the library.”

“What’s a library?” asked the kitten.

“Oh, my. That does sound serious,” said Lulu. “You Dead Cats are so weird. The rumors are true.”

“Why would we care about some stupid book?” yelled Boris, the dirty white fat cat.

This was not going well. Caffeina thought quickly and decided to take a different approach. Even though she’d never read much more than fashion magazines, she had absorbed Cicero’s teachings. She had listened to his tales about the Guardian Cats, their gallant and noble deeds and now, when she needed them, they came to her rescue. Just knowing about them inspired her.

“Think about others for a change. Don't be concerned only with your own lot. Test your courage and strength." She paused and took a deep breath. "See what you’re made of. You won't know until you’ve put it to the test.”

She looked into their faces. “Think of it as a quest,” she said a little breathlessly.

Caffeina felt Tweezer staring in amazement at her.

“What’s a quest?” asked a kitten.

Chapter 42: When rumors are not enough

Bait was on the library roof. He felt the charge in the air. Tonight was the night. Tonight he would get his revenge.

He never thought that treating a ‘girl’ badly would put him out of the league of Guardians. Then of course, there was that time he let his shield down. That fraction of a second had cost him dearly, but it was Cicero who would pay. His old mentor, who had taken him in and given him the attention he'd never received.

It was all he ever wanted, and when he first met Cicero, all that had changed. The old cat took him everywhere. They would sit for hours together in the chambers, and Bait would listen to the Guardian stories and countless other stories of adventure and intrigue. They went out at night, stalking and hunting. He told Cicero about his own past, his shows, his awards. Finally, he told him about being dumped by his human.

Then Cicero abandoned him. Just like that, it was all over. Bait kept up his appearances. That was the one thing he excelled at. But inwardly, he seethed with resentment. He vowed that, whatever it took, he would steal the thing that mattered most to Cicero.

He was not in a hurry, and he took up reading books on magic. He discovered he had a gift for it.

At first, he learned how to change his appearance in small ways. His fur color, his eyes. Then he concentrated on more radical alterations until he was able to completely disguise himself. It was then that he realized the intense attraction he had toward Cicero's Book. More than revenge, Bait wanted the Book for himself.

A shadow moving on the roof crept over and sat next to Bait.

“You make a good raccoon," said the Whisperer.

“I know. An opposable thumb makes everything possible," Bait said. He felt himself starting to shake. He could almost taste the power of magic, as if it were a drug. Black magic. It was so delicious.

Now when he needed its power the most, something was wrong.

"I can’t hold the shapes as long," he told the shadow.

"You must get your power from the Book now. It is the only power that will serve one so advanced as you."

"I'm working on it!" flared Bait, but he felt himself growing weaker.

He could almost feel the vibration that came right before he brought about a transformation. Enough to make him crave it all the more, but when his power was too weak, it made his craving stronger.

"You must control yourself," breathed the Whisperer.

"Yes. You are right," said Bait. He tried to calm himself. “Tonight I will know if my plan will work. If Cicero is worried about the safety of the Book, he will try to move it. In all this time, I have not been allowed to get close to it. Tonight, though, you will see something amazing. It is sure to frighten Cicero into action.”

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

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

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

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

"You have something in mind?"

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

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

Chapter 43: Power in the wrong hands

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

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

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

“I’m hungry,” said Tweezer.

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

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

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

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

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

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