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“That’s right, Dickens,” Dewey said as he fluttered through the air. “I’ve got a nice juicy steak for you, buddy.”

Paige glanced at the teal dragon buzzing through the air.

He waved a raw slab of meat in the air. “Now, be a good boy and put Paige down and come get your steak.”

Dickens flicked his paw a few times to toss Paige aside. She somersaulted through the air, smacking into a shelf and sliding to the floor.

Dewey tossed the steak onto the floor and sailed around the approaching cat toward Paige.

“Paige,” he shouted as she shook her head and adjusted her glasses.

“I’m okay,” she said in a shaky voice as Dewey offered her a hand.

He pulled her to stand, and she brushed off her clothes.

“Whew, that was a close one. Thank goodness you were quick. I wouldn’t have made it much longer.”

“Let’s hope it works,” Dewey said, raking a paw over his forehead. “I went as fast as I could.”

“You didn’t mess anything up, did you? You were careful, right?” Paige asked, her eyes wide.

“Yes, of course!”

“You didn’t do anything crazy like estimate his weight at ten pounds or something, did you?”

“No, Paige, this has nothing to do with weight anyway. Will you stop bringing up the time I mistakenly estimated your weight at 250 pounds?”

“Sorry, I just want this solved before Dickens destroys the library archives. How long should this take?”

“It should be almost immediate upon ingestion,” Dewey said.

They both glanced toward the spot where Dewey had tossed the meat earlier. A wet stain marred the gray floor where the meat had sat. No sign of the steak or the cat existed.

Paige adjusted her glasses as she scanned the area. “Dickens? Are you cured, buddy?”

She craned her neck as she searched for the cat.

“Well,” Dewey said while they inched forward, checking the aisles as they passed them, “it may have worked. You couldn’t miss him before.”

“Unless he slinked his huge butt into the main archive,” Paige said.

“Let’s hope not.”

They continued toward the exit, searching for the cat. When they reached the aisle near where the meat had landed, Paige froze.

Her jaw dropped open, and she wrinkled her nose. “OMG,” she whispered.

“What is it? Did you find him? Is he okay?” Dewey asked as he buzzed across from the opposite side of the aisle.

Paige reached down and scooped up the newest form of Dickens. Now pint-sized, he fit into the palm of her hand. “Dickens! You’re tiny!”

Dewey pulled his teal lips back into a wince, his purple tongue sticking out between his fangs. “Oops.”

Paige used a single finger to stroke the tiny cat’s head. “Well, I guess at least he can’t kill us. And he probably can’t reach anything else to eat it and turn into something scary.”

“Very true, Paige. Way to look on the bright side.”

They started their trek back to Dewey’s nest.