Рахма Крамбо - Guardian Cats And The Lost Books Of Alexandria

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

“Not very friendly, are you?”

“No.”

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

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

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

Cicero narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

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

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

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

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

“Most assuredly.”

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

“Your eyes are tricking you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe I did have some hope.”

“What was my big crime?”

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

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

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

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

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

The changeling cat disappeared without a trace.

Chapter 51: Beat ‘em with fries

Polo ran randomly through yards and across parking lots, dodging cars and dogs and a baby carriage. He was not tired of running, especially since he’d been tied up so long, but a thought stopped him. It wasn’t something that happened very often, but he thought about how Tweezer had saved his life and how he and the others were fighting the raccoons. The cats were in trouble and here he was, running away. What was he doing here under a tree, when they needed his help?

He didn’t think any further, like what chance a silly ferret would have in fending off a dozen gangster raccoons. He chewed on what was left of the leash, thinking more than he’d ever thought in his life, when he heard footsteps. When they got close enough, Polo saw it was a pack of mangy cats.

“Hey!” one called out.

Polo loped over to meet them.

“Maybe you could give us directions?”

“Depends on where you want to go,” said Polo.

“The library.”

“I just came from the library, and I don’t think you want to go there now.”

“Why not?” asked one of the cats.

“The library’s on fire and there’s a pack of raccoons in a brawl with the cats.”

“That’s the place.”

“Really?”

“We’re friends of Tweezers. He asked for backup and we’re it.”

“Tweezer could use some help, but I have to tell you, those raccoons are brutal, and I don’t know that you could do much good.”

“Well, we’re here now. We have to do something.”

Polo decided to tell them what he’d been pondering. “I’ve been thinking of trying a diversionary tactic,” he said. It was a term he’d learned from Marco, and he’d been waiting for a chance to use it.

“Say what?”

“You know, a way to take their attention away from the cats, with something they want more than fighting.”

“Well, you seem to know so much. What do you think would get their attention?”

“Simple,” said Polo. “Raccoons are pigs. They love to eat more than anything. We’ll tempt them with food.”

“Brilliant idea. But how do you propose we get food to them? We’re cats. It’s not like we can steal food and lug it over there.”

Polo smiled. “That’s why you need me.”

The one cat who seemed to be the group’s leader brought the rest of them into a huddle. Then he went back to Polo. “Okay. Here’s the deal. We weren’t gonna come, ‘cause we like our lives and don’t want anything to mess with that. Understand? But some of us got to thinking about what Tweezer and Caffeina said, and it made sense. We’d want help if we were in trouble. So here we are, but we don’t have much of a plan. So, we took a vote. We’ll go with your plan.”

Polo suddenly found himself in charge of a troupe of cats. He puffed up with pride. “First thing we need to do is scope out some food. Anything will do. They are not picky eaters.” He almost added, ‘not like cats,’ but caught himself in time.

Boris sniffed the air. “I smell French fries.”

“Take us to the fries, then,” commanded Polo, and they followed Boris to a dumpster.

Polo scaled the large bin in a flash. The cats waited below.

“Here, catch!” He tossed bags of fries over the side until he was satisfied they all had one. He secured one in his mouth and hopped down.

“Follow me.” The cats each had a bag clenched in their teeth and they trotted down the street, surely a strange sight if anyone had been looking out their window.

Once they made it to the library, only Polo was brave enough to get close to the raccoons and let them get a whiff. But it was enough. The first raccoon picked up the scent and lost interest in fighting. The stray cats dropped their bags and beat a hasty retreat.

The raccoons knocked each other over to get the fries, leaving the Dead Cats stunned but grateful.

Chapter 52: Things left unsaid

The fire had been quelled before any major damage occurred. The entire newspaper section was reduced to ashes, but it was the smoke which created the greatest hazard, and the library had to be closed for several days. Cicero slept uneasily in the magnolia tree, which did not suit him in the least. Marco kept him company.

“Were you scared?” asked Marco. “Didn’t it remind you of the fire at Alexandria? I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Bait setting the fire. How could he change so much? I swear, he looked like a raccoon at first. And up on the roof, he was talking to a shadow who wanted him to kill you. The whole thing was so weird. But I stopped him! I would never let anyone hurt you, Cicero.”

“Thank you, dear Marco,” Cicero said wearily. “You have proven yourself worthy. I have chosen well after all.”

Marco had stopped short of telling Cicero about his own conversation with the Whisperer. He couldn’t tell him how close he’d come to walking away from the whole thing. It was impossible to think of it now without cringing. If it weren’t for Lily, well… he didn’t want to think about it.