Catfantastic II

The noise attracted the immediate attention of both the owl and the wizard. "Oh, my," said the wizard. "What have we here? I left a cat on my desk, and now I see no cat, but instead a boy. No, wait-there is a strong feeling of magic here." The wizard peered at his desk, noticing the opened bottle. He then carefully surveyed the boy, who stared back, speechless, from the floor.

"Most interesting," observed the wizard. "I see before me a boy of ten or so years, with unusual dark gray hair edged with silver, and-yes, azure eyes in a rather triangular face. Can you speak, lad?"

The cat-now boy-tried to yowl his dismay, but produced only a wretched croaking sound.

"I thought so!" exclaimed the wizard. "You are the cat! That is to say, you were the cat; you are now a boy. Oh, I do feel most keenly responsible for this, you understand. I could have sworn I'd given those shape-changing lozenges to Otwill ages ago… or was it Otwill who gave them to me? There was supposed to be a parchment attached to the bottle…" He sorted unsuccessfully amid the clutter for a moment, then sighed. "I shall seek it later, but I do fear… well, no need, to borrow trouble. Quite likely I am recalling the wrong strictures entirely. What should we do first? Arrange for you to speak, I should think; most frustrating otherwise for us both. I have a spell for speech tucked away here somewhere-aha! Here, in fact. Now, pay attention." He intoned more sounds unintelligible to the cat/boy, but suddenly the sounds were intelligible.

The wizard watched expectantly. "Can you say my name, boy? My name is 'Flax.' "

His mind whirling from all the unimaginable changes that had befallen him, the cat/boy opened his mouth, producing a grating sound. "Fflleeckss?"

"Not at all bad for a first try," said the wizard, nodding encouragingly. "Take a moment to settle yourself. You might be more comfortable sitting in a chair… or then again, perhaps not."

The cat/boy swallowed, and tried to move his paws. But they weren't paws any more… and he was so LARGE. His whole viewing perspective seemed horridly wrong, shifted dizzyingly far up in the air above where it should be. And… and he had no fur-except for that on his head-and no whiskers, and-he gazed frantically down at himself-no tail! However could he walk, or jump? With a low moan, he tried to extend his claws… but he had no proper claws, either. Instead of his formerly elegant paws, he now had great long finger-things, with blunt, flat nails that wouldn't extend or retract. Apprehensively, he tried to stand on his four legs… but he now had only two-great LONG legs, with peculiar bent feet. He fell over with a resounding thump.

The wizard hurried to assist him. "I know," he said kindly. "Your balance must feel quite askew, but then your body proportions have altered significantly. Before you harm yourself falling, try sitting in this chair. Yes, the rump goes there, and you must bend your legs-what were your back legs-at the knees. Those joints are knees, you know, although they must seem oddly placed. The feet stay flat on the floor, by the way. That position will be different to you as well, I fear, for cats' feet are more like our human fingertips and toetips. At the moment, you are quite frankly clumsy, but you'll soon adapt. We must call you something. I had named you 'Raindrop' last night while you were a cat, but that seems a trifle poetical for a lad's name."

The wizard paused, regarding his shivering guest. "And there you sit, naked. I must find you some clothes before you suffer a chill. Weren't there some lad-sized clothes in this chest? Ha, try on this sleeved jerkin. It fits on over the head. No, no-arms through those holes, and head out the top hole. Never mind, I'll pick it up. Try again, a bit less vigorously. Much better. Not 'Raindrop,'-no. 'Drop.' That should do admirably for the present. I shall call you 'Drop.' Can you say it? Very good. Anything else you care to say-no? In my experience, cats usually aren't loquacious creatures. So much more restful to have about the house than parrots. I once treated a parrot with an eye ailment. I finally had to settle a dumbness spell on the wretched bird. He wouldn't give a person peace to think in-always prattling on and on. Ah, here are some breeches of a reasonable size, and some soft slippers that should fit your feet. "When you have dressed, you might try moving about a bit. Yes, the breeches fit over the legs. While you're finishing, I shall search for Otwill's parchment. I know I saw it quite recently. The cord around the bottle had frayed, you see, so I slipped the parchment into one of these cubbyholes for safekeeping."

Drop wrestled with the hideously uncooperative clothing, then subsided into the chair, breathing hard. His exquisite sense of cat-balance was asserting itself, adjusting to his new body shape. He flexed his curiously divided fingers, pondering the other changes that intruded into his awareness. Scents, for one thing, were now much less keen and distinct. That was discouraging, but perhaps compensated for to some degree by the enormous expansion of his color vision. Before, as a cat, he could tell a difference between blue-to-green colors and orange-to-red ones, but only in bright light. Now the world was a riot of colors, for which the wizard's speech spell obligingly provided him names. He wondered briefly about his night sight-so important to a hunting cat; his loss or gain there would be revealed later. The humans he remembered seemed to take shelter at night. Perhaps, he reasoned, they couldn't see as well in dim light as in full sun.

Drop looked curiously at the preoccupied wizard. Although the old man had initially appeared bulky because he was swathed in so many layers of cloth, it was now clear that he wasn't actually much larger than the cat-boy's own body size. His head was completely bald and beardless; frost-white eyebrows shaded a pair of bright blue eyes flanking a beak of a nose.

"Aha!" The wizard triumphantly waved a dusty scrap of parchment, then brought it near the lamp to read the faded writing. "I thought so-it was Otwill's, for here's his rune. I don't know what possessed him to create this spell." The wizard frowned at the scrap as he read aloud, " 'Reveals the true character of the user: what his spirit might otherwise have been but for the accident of birth.' Meddlesome-I always said Otwill was a meddler, although generally well-intentioned. I remember now… he sent me these lozenges shortly after they had turned his servant into a toad. Most unfortunate. Still, the fellow really was rather toadlike, and Otwill did take good care of him afterward. Put him in a walled garden, I believe. Hmm."

The wizard read on, then paused and sighed. "I must be honest with you, Drop. This Keep-Shape Spell of Otwill's is not, I fear, reversible… at least, that is, he neglected to specify how to reverse it." For an instant, his face brightened, then fell back into an apologetic expression. "I was about to say that I could transmit a query to Otwill concerning this spell, but I just recalled that he has been missing for some time-went on a quest for phoenix feathers or some such rare thing. Bother. I shall simply have to puzzle it out by myself." He stopped and gazed thoughtfully at Drop. "Until I can return you to your proper cathood, you are most welcome to stay here and lend a hand." He waved vaguely at their muddled surroundings. "Would you care to learn a bit of magic? First, of course, you'd have to learn to read. I've never before taught a cat to read, but I feel sure you should be quite capable of learning. Oh, do speak up! I hate talking to myself all the time."

"P… paw?" asked Drop, extending his injured hand, which had swollen and was darkening with bruises.

"Forgive me," exclaimed the wizard. "That little beeswax mitten I made for you last night couldn't possibly contain the mass of a human hand." He bustled around the room, collecting materials. "My numbing spell should still be in full effect. Now I can attend properly to those broken bones. I shall need some dry plaster, water, strips of cloth, and perhaps some light wooden splints."