Catopolis

“That’s the spirit, Norbu!” encourages Tai Pan. “Stand up. Be strong. Go now, and cast that thing away!”

Slowly, Norbu stands up. He walks toward Garakk, putting one foot in front of the other. His lips are tight and a frown of concentration marks his smooth forehead.

Garakk glares at the boy after pi

Norbu walks toward Garakk almost as if the beastly thing were nothing more than a pesky fly. Reaching up, he grabs Garakk’s arms and shakes them until the monster’s body rocks back and forth. Shindig flies from the claws to land hard on the ground.

The youngster stares the monster in its repellent eyes and, full of juvenile anger, hammers each of his words.

“ENOUGH! I-AM-NOT-AFRAID-OF-YOU-ANYMORE! GO-AWAY, AND-NEVER-COME-BACK!”

Garakk snarls at Norbu. It staggers back, dropping Mugs, and tries in vain to free its arms from the boy’s grip. It can’t move. Feeling its strength waning, Garakk voices a deafening shriek. Norbu stands his ground unafraid, seeing now what a pathetic creature Garakk really is. The beast shakes its head and gives Norbu a spiteful grimace before vanishing in a puff of noxious green-yellow smoke.

“Thanks for the help, mate!” Mugs says as he flicks his switch-claws back in. He then scratches his neck with a back foot and steps toward Shindig to help the bouncer up. “Oy, Tai Pan, we done here?”

“This was a favor well returned,” answers Tai Pan. “Your debt is paid, and your account with me settled, old friend. Thank you.”

“Good thing, that is. What of the boy, mate?” Mugs looks closely at Norbu. “What’s between you and him?” Shin also eyes Norbu with curiosity.

Drawing himself up to his full height, Tai Pan says, “As you put it so well, my friend, that is between him and me.”

“Fair enough, mate. Nice doing business with you,” concludes Mugs. “Come on, Shin.” The two cats disappear into the Astral night.

Tai Pan turns back to Norbu. The boy is watching him.

“What happened?” he asks. “I mean, really?”

Tai Pan chooses his words with care, fluffing his fur as he thinks.

“It so happened you fell into someone’s trap. You can’t go bouncing around in your dreams anymore. It’s just too dangerous. From now on you must learn to stay conscious when leaving your physical body. Careless journeys are a thing of the past. I’ll see to teaching you that.”

Norbu nods at Tai Pan’s caution. “I’m so glad you’re here, Titus.” As he looks at the snowy mountains, thinking of all that had happened, the veil of dreams once again clouds his gaze. He’s exhausted.

“I think you’ve had more than enough excitement for this night,” says Tai Pan. He levitates up to Norbu’s waist and presses his paw against the boy’s solar plexus to get him started home.

Satisfied with the sight of his student diving back toward his physical body, Tai Pan begins to think. He doesn’t expect Tara Moondreamer as she materializes next to him. He steps back a pace, startled.

“Not bad for a first effort,” says the old cat, smiling as she gives Tai Pan a moment to regain his equilibrium. “Of course, the lamas were very worried about Norbu ru

“This turned out to be a very costly first try-one life and one major favor paid,” laments Tai Pan. “I’ll be out of business before long at this rate.”

“Ah, yes. You lost one life,” remarks Tara, “but did you not gain another, with a deeper meaning and a greater worth? Did you not just trade a favor from an acquaintance for another of much higher value?”

“Touché,” agrees Tai Pan a bit sheepishly. After a moment of silence, he adds, “I’m just realizing there is no greater wealth than that of true friendship, especially the boyhood friendship of a lama destined for greatness. Thank you for pointing out the obvious, Tara. With that in mind, I think I’ve just become the richest cat in the world.” He stands up, preparing to leave the Astral Plane.

“What will you do next, Sir Tai Pan Titus de Pa

His voice lingers on the Astral Plane after he disappears. “If you please, I need to take a long nap. Then I’ll plan Norbu’s next lesson.”

THE GUARDIAN OF GRIMOIRE HALL by Christopher Welch

With his head low to the ground, whiskers straight, eyes glimmering and ears attentive, Delavayne entered the Antique District with uneven, silent steps. Following a trajectory of shadows in the moonlit cityscape, he had unsuccessfully searched most of the metropolis in the last week. Within minutes of treading the concrete of the Antique District, his toes began to tingle.

Grimoire Hall and The Book of Apedemak must be in this part of the city, he exulted.

He stalked the alleys and avenues, prowling between ancient structures and around parked vehicles and late-night pedestrians as quickly as his four awkward limbs allowed. His nose twitched, bringing him strong unfamiliar scents.

The smoky sheen of Delavayne’s gray fur blended with the city’s neon and concrete shadows. He’d also taken arcane precautions to veil himself from the city’s feline population. He left little scent to track.

Despite my precautions, a big orange cat almost spotted me earlier this evening. Delavayne had faded into the darkness of the urban corridors.

Fu

What other secrets do you hide from me? Delavayne wondered. What other arcane gifts has the god Apedemak bestowed upon you?

Delavayne saw a tall tabby farther down the street, strolling toward him. A distinctive metaphysical aura emanated from the cat’s body.

This one has answers!

Delavayne ensconced himself in shadows. Smiling, he flexed his claws and prepared to pounce.

Inside the underground Grimoire Hall, Tenja nestled on a pillow reading a book she had borrowed from the shelves upstairs without Clara’s knowledge by means of the ka spell. It had been years since she’d read the Poe collection, and it was like visiting an old friend.

Tenja had nearly finished

Murders in the Rue Morgue, and she was anticipating The Purloined Letter, her personal favorite. I’ll recommend this book to Fergus the next time he stops by, assuming his stiff feline pride can be convinced to read a human author, Tenja thought, the corners of her mouth turning upward. It is good to know something of the people who claim to keep us. And as poet laureate of the city, he’ll appreciate the refrains in Ulalume.

Tenja’s whiskers tingled. Sleek muscles under her white-and-calico coat tensed suddenly.

Something is amiss, her Guardian instincts told her.

No one touched the ancient books surrounding her without her approval. No one. Since early Renaissance times, members of her long-lived family had guarded the precious tomes.

Tenja rose, abandoning Poe as she assessed the situation. Her copper-colored eyes darted across the amber-lighted hall.

The Book of Apedemak lay on its central pedestal, the scrolls remained safe in their cases, and countless bound volumes by austere feline scholars and philosophers stood in orderly fashion.

Ru

Everything was just as it should be, but her whiskers still tingled.

Is something wrong in the Antique District?

Tenja listened at the back door with ultrasensitive ears. She heard fading footfalls in the alley, then after six heartbeats… nothing. The threat had passed. Her nose told her nothing.

If there is a real problem, Fergus or Sampson or even some nosy kitten will tell me about it. Kittens are good at finding out odd things.