Page 24

NINETEEN

Walls was on the couch with an arm around Thorn’s shoulders.

She had a hand on his knee. Together, they watched the fireplace roaring.

Baking atop the mantel were three loaves of cat: one gray, one orange, and a white.

Bandit’s miraculous willingness to share the space with Pumpkin and Pepper was the thing that snapped Thorn back to reality, to the porch where she stood two arm lengths away from Walls.

“What do you need me for?” she asked. “A potion?”

“No. To talk to a couple of cats.”

Not long later, Thorn was in the consult room of Thimble Veterinary Clinic, her heart breaking at the sight of three clearly frightened cats.

“Ella was admitted yesterday.” Walls motioned to a gray-and-black tabby who flattened herself against the back of the cage, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Her symptoms are similar to that strange case from a few weeks ago. And today, two more were brought in.”

Thorn moved to the next cage. The hospital intake card revealed it was a caramel cat named Toffee, but all she could see was an IV line running into the cage and disappearing under a trembling ball of towel.

“Toffee’s brother Tux is just as terrified,” Walls said. “In fact, all these cats were brought in because they were suddenly behaving very strangely.”

In the last cage, the black and white hair on the cat’s back stood upright. I don’t want to die , Tux said, flicking his tail nervously.

“Walls will fix you,” Thorn said.

Walls paced in front of the wall of cages.

“I can’t find anything wrong with them physically except for a little dehydration.

But that’s because they haven’t been eating or drinking.

Their blood tests all came back normal. I thought maybe it was a feline virus spreading in the area, even though these are strictly indoor cats.

But I called up other vets in the area, and so far, I’ve found six similar cases. All from the past two weeks.”

“What about the first case from a few weeks ago? How is that cat doing?”

“The owner said Munchkin is slowly returning to normal. I was hoping you could talk to these cats and help us figure this out.”

“Tux,” Thorn said, her voice soft and gentle. “Why do you think you’re going to die?”

I just know it.

As far as she knew, cats couldn’t foretell the future, much less their own demise. More often they underestimated the dangers that might end them, which made their extra lives handy. “How do you know? Did a witch tell you?”

I can feel it.

She opened the cage.

Help! Tux’s meows were so heart-wrenching that Walls didn’t need to understand the words to feel the pain. He grimaced, and there was a helplessness etched into his face that made Thorn all the more determined to help him.

“Walls and I are trying to save you. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to feel your paw, if you let me.”

Tux didn’t reply, but he stopped crying. Thorn reached in and felt his toe beans. “He only has one life left.”

“How many is he supposed to have?” But Walls immediately recalled the saying. “Nine.”

“Let me check the other two.” She had to feel through the blanket but found that Toffee had only one life left.

So did Ella. “I can’t tell you if their strange behavior has anything to do with having no more spare lives.

I’ve met cats with only one life left who still act like they’re invincible overlords. ”

“Perhaps it’s just a coincidence that they’re all on their last lives.”

“You said Toffee and Tux were brought in today. Did their owner say they started behaving like this at the same time?”

Walls nodded. “He said that this morning, he got up late because they didn’t harass him for breakfast like they usually do.

He even had to search the house to find them.

Toffee was hiding under a cabinet. Tux was cowering in the bathtub.

He said when he saw them before bed last night, they were their normal cheeky selves. ”

“What happened between last night and this morning, Tux?”

I’m afraid , was all Tux said.

My servant is a man-whore , a muffled voice said.

Thorn looked at the trembling ball of blanket. “What did you say, Toffee?”

He brings a different woman home each week.

“What kind of woman? Like a cleaner?”

How naive are you? For coitus.

“Maybe he just prefers ‘one-night stands,’?” Thorn said, proud of her use of modern lingo. “Did a woman come over for that last night? And it scared you?”

Of course not. It happens all the time. And they always close the door on us, like we don’t know.

“Then what happened? What are you afraid of?”

I don’t remember. All I know is that something happened and it was scary. Is scary. I can’t die yet! My helpless servant needs me to rule his roost. Please, do something! The towel trembled even more violently, and Toffee began to meow wordless meows.

“I’ll give her something to calm her down.” Walls prepared a syringe and pushed it into Toffee’s IV line. Soon she quieted down and the trembling slowed.

After that, Thorn tried to talk to Ella, but the cat also didn’t say anything other than that she was terrified. And Thorn didn’t want to make it worse. She turned to Walls. “Sorry, I’m not much help.”

“Please don’t be sorry. I’m very thankful you tried.

And you did get me a clue. Maybe the woman Toffee and Tux’s owner went on a date with wore a perfume or essential oil that’s toxic to cats.

That doesn’t explain the same thing happening to the others, but it’s something to consider. Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

“I’m an expert at the pedestrian crossing now. A modern woman. See?” She lifted her arms and twirled slowly. “Look at this blouse and Jean’s pants.”

Walls studied her, and she felt her face burn.

His lips parted, but before he could say a word, she was already running for the back door of the clinic, except it wouldn’t budge.

She pulled and pulled, afraid that any moment, she might do something stupid like tell Walls that she had a crush on him. “Why is this locked? Let me out!”

Walls walked toward her. She whirled around. He leaned forward. She could feel the warmth radiating from him. His arm went around her. She shut her eyes.

There was a click and a creak, and then, “Thorn?”

She opened her eyes to find Walls had stepped around her. And the door was open.

“You’ve gotta push,” he said.

When she dashed out, she might have exceeded the speed of light.

After three blocks of sprinting, her burning lungs and creaking knees forced her to slow down.

“Stupid, stupid Thorn. Acting like a lovesick teenager. You’re almost forty, for curses’ sake! And you were there to help those cats, not fawn over a man.”

She was still chastising herself when her phone rang. It was Meg calling.

“Hey, Thorn. I finally tracked down someone involved in the construction of Thimble Park. Before they cleared everything out, there was what appeared to be a grave in the form of an old and weathered cairn. They triple-checked since it could be of archaeological value, but when they dug all around that spot, there was nothing in the ground.”

“But then… where’s Rose?” Once again, Thorn saw her sister lying in the grave, eyes open, green and empty.

Raucous honks jolted Thorn back to the present. In her preoccupation, she had stepped off the curb and was standing in the road, a hair’s breadth away from the bumper of a van. The driver stuck his head out his window and yelled, “Do you have a death wish?”

Thorn sprinted across the otherwise empty street.

The van impatiently zoomed off, accelerating so fast its tires burned.

The acrid smell took Thorn right back to the week after Rose died.

She had been woken up by a pungent smell; she’d fallen asleep while taking a break from stirring the cauldron.

As quietly as possible, she heaved the smoking cauldron off the fire.

The brew had burned down to a crispy crust. Her heart sank thinking about what Mother would say.

That she was a disappointment. A useless bother.

But fortune was on Thorn’s side. Mother was slumped at the table, her spell book under her cheek.

It was the first time Mother had slept so soundly in almost a month.

Perhaps Thorn could brew another batch before she woke up.

She tiptoed over and tried to slide the spell book out from under Mother’s face.

But then she saw that Mother’s eyes were open, green and still and empty.

Those lifeless green eyes that had haunted Thorn’s dreams were not Rose’s.