he’s sad that his master is dead?” asked Sammy.
Will shook his head. “Not exactly, maybe, I don’t know. Let me see if I can convince him to let us stay.”
“Convince him?” said Erisa, her voice tinged with disbelief. “It’s a cat.”
“Grandfather didn’t think so. He always said the goddamn cat was our landlord. Wait here a minute,” he told them.
“Where are you going?” asked Sammy.
“To get an egg.” Will went around the side of the house and through the garden, a trip he had made hundreds of times before. Moments later, he returned with a fresh egg in hand. He had no idea if he was doing the right thing, but he decided to trust his instincts. In his mind he could still hear his grandfather’s last words, “Don’t piss him off.”
Sammy and his mother watched him with odd looks on their faces as he dragged Arrogan’s body until it was at the edge of the porch. The goddamn cat perked up at that and stepped forward to investigate. As they looked on, it sniffed Arrogan’s head and then licked it once before returning to the porch. It lay down there, crossing its front paws and staring at Will.
He could almost imagine its words. Your move, human. Approaching cautiously, he got down on his knees at the edge of the porch and held out one hand to the cat. “I know you had an agreement with him. He’s gone now, but I’ll do my best to honor it, if you let me,” he said, keeping his voice neutral.
The grey tom blinked, once, then sat up.
I hope that’s a good sign, thought Will. Reaching out with the other hand, he showed the egg to the goddamn cat. “Let me in and I’ll get a bowl to put this in for you—ow!” The cat’s claws had flashed out and torn a deep scratch across the back of his hand, causing him to drop the egg.
Standing up, Will sighed and looked at the broken egg. It had fallen on the ground, where it began to seep into the dry dirt. He turned to the others. “I guess I was wrong.”
Sammy pointed at his feet. “Look!”
Glancing down, Will saw that the goddamn cat had moved. It sat beside his leg, cleaning the blood from its foot. It finished and then stood, circling his feet once and brushing up against his trousers before walking to the front door.
“I think he’s telling you that you can go in now,” said Sammy, amazement in her voice.
Testing the theory, Will walked to the front door. The grey tom ignored him, but as soon as Erisa and Sammy started to follow him, it stood and hissed, arching its back once more. “They’re with me,” Will told it.
The goddamn cat let them by after that.
Once they were inside, Will’s mother wasted no time cleaning the scratches on his hand. “I can’t believe we had to negotiate with a cat,” she muttered.
“Maybe he’s magic,” put in Sammy. “This is a wizard’s house, after all.”
Will wasn’t so sure about that. He’d seen no sign of magic around the cat, or any other strangeness, other than its behavior. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But before he died, Grandad warned me not to upset the cat. He made that point to me several times while I lived with him.”
“Knowing him, that crotchety old man probably did it just to have a laugh. He’s probably looking down on us now, laughing at us for believing him,” said Will’s mother. She wiped at her eyes with one sleeve. “He was always doing odd things when he taught me. I never knew what to think.”
Sammy stared at her aunt. “You’re a wizard too?”
Erisa shook her head. “No. He taught me herbs and midwifery. He always said he’d never take another apprentice.” She glanced at her son. “Until Will convinced him somehow.”
Will had no answer to that. “I should cook something,” he told them.
“What about…” Sammy looked toward the door and they all understood her meaning. Arrogan’s body was still out there, in front of the porch.
“We’ll bury him in the morning,” said Erisa. “Is there something we can wrap him in overnight?” she asked Will. “I don’t want anything taking a bite out of him while we sleep.”
Will gave her one of his blankets, and while she attended to the body, he went to fetch fresh vegetables from the garden. Following his old routine seemed natural and helped him keep his mind clear. The last thing he