Catfantastic II

His Cheeks went quite Scarlet, and his white Beard seemed almost to Bristle with Outrage. 'What Audacity!' he shouted, ringing for Musgrave with unaccustomed Vigor. 'Some Charlatan is endeavoring to sully my spotless Reputation! A Letter must be sent at once, Musgrave (for that Individual had arrived promptly).'

He turned to his Table and his Quills, but when he thrust the first into the Silver Inkwell, so disturbed was he that he broke its Nib against the Bottom. Ink splashed onto the Calculations laid ready for Work, and he looked as if he might burst into Tears.

'If I might be of Service,' I told him in the Private Speech used between Familiar and Charge, 'I will be Happy to Inscribe the Message for you.'

He lifted me onto the Table with much Gratitude and sent Musgrave from the Room on a Pretext. We try never to disturb Servants with our Association, for many of those become Fearful when faced with our Abilities.

My Kit had left his small Pen on a Corner of the Table, and I managed to make my Letters large enough for easy Reading by Humankind. Slowly, my Master dictated his Missive, and as I copied his Words, I felt a Chill in my Heart. This was Mischief, not Conspiracy, and I had a dreadful Intuition as to its Cause.

Learned Sirs: the letter began,

It was with Dismay that I received your Communication of two Hours past. A Comet that threatens to destroy the Terrestrial Globe? I have found no trace of such a Matter, though I have scanned the Sky each clear Night through the best Telescope within my Means.

The Letter sent to you over my Signature is obviously a Forgery of the rankest Sort. I had not supposed that Jealousy existed among our Fellowship, and I refuse to believe that any of our Trusted Peers are involved in this Conspiracy. I can only suppose that Others, unknown to the Society of Amateur Astronomers, have decided to disrupt our Cooperative Endeavors and misguide our Investigations of the Heavens.

You have my deepest Apologies for the Unease this unfounded Report must have caused within the Group. I will, rest assured, look into the Matter with all possible Assiduity, and if the Culprit is discovered, I will reveal his Name to the Society, that he may be called to account.

Your Friend and Servant,

Athelstan Grisby, Brt.

As Sir Athelstan read the Letter, sprinkled Sand on the ink, and appended his Signature, I was investigating for myself. Beside the Spot on which Rufus's Pen had rested Lay his Copybook. I strolled to sit beside it and washed my Face daintily, managing while so doing to Read what was Inscribed there.

He had, as I suspected, been Writing in Sir Athelstan's distinctive Hand, making the Letters large enough to convince anyone that they had been formed by a Human Being. Additionally, those Letters were intermixed with Calculations resembling Those on my Master's unfinished Pages.

Without any Doubt, I was looking at the Practice Sheet that was the Forerunner of the Forged Letter sent to the Society. How? That was, of course, instantly Apparent. Sir Athelstan's Secretary, who came each Morning to tidy his Correspondence, must have seen this Missive lying on the Table, ready for the Post, and he had Sealed it and placed it with the outgoing Packet.

Musgrave entered the Room, took the new Letter, and left again. With my most beguiling Purr, I settled onto Sir Athelstan's Lap, the Kits at the moment being engaged in being Fed in the Scullery.

I stared up at him, my Eyes pleading. 'I know the Culprit,' I conveyed to my Charge. 'And it is no Enemy of yours, but instead a great Admirer. He meant no Harm, rest assured. I do hope that you will not be Angry with him!'

He stared down, his eyes wide. 'But-but how could You possibly know who did this Outrageous thing?'

I sighed and licked one paw reflectively. Then I rubbed my Chin against his Knee. 'Because it was Rufus. Look at his Copybook, there on the farther Side of the Table.'

He reached and found the Item in question. When he began Perusing it, I felt his Stomach begin to quiver with Chuckles.

'That little Devil!' he said. Now he was beginning to Laugh aloud. 'Would you believe that a mere Kit could comprehend my Discipline well enough to mislead an entire Society of Astronomers, if only for a short While?'

'Rufus is not your ordinary Kit,' I responded, feeling great Relief that he was reacting with Amusement rather than Fury.

'But why did he imitate my Style and my Handwriting?' asked Sir Athelstan, rereading the scribbled Page.

'Admiration? Emulation? Who can say what motivates a Child?' I asked. 'But you do need to Caution your Secretary, when you find the Opportunity. Unless you have outgoing Letters in a certain Spot, he should never send them out without asking you.'

'I will see to it.' His Stomach was still joggling gently. He stroked my Head with his free Hand as he read the Page yet a third Time.

As one might suppose, I had Words of my own with my Precocious Kit. Rufus was suitably Subdued when I was done, for not only the Society was misled for a Time. The News had been sent to the Newspapers, before the Recipients of the Letter thought to verify the Information therein. This led to considerable Excitement and Distress among the Readership of the Publications involved.

So respected was Sir Athelstan that his Name (which was admirably forged) was enough to convince the most Skeptical of the Authenticity of the Danger. By the time Corrections were made, the Damage was done.

It was not an easy Matter to correct this Mishap. Some unnamed Villain is still blamed, for not even one so Secure in his own Skill as Sir Athelstan could possibly admit that this sort of Deception could be managed by a Domestic Animal.

However, nowadays when my Charge is busy with his Mathematics, Rufus is usually at his Elbow. The Kit has a Gift for this, and Sir Athelstan plans to Work with him in Future, using his unusual Skills to Augment his own.

As the Child's Mother, I am, of course, extremely Proud and Grateful. But as Sir Athelstan's Familiar, I keep a very close Watch upon them Both. Neither is as Mature as one would Wish, and both tend to be Daring in the Extreme.

I have no wish to deal with another such near Catastrophe as the last might have become. And though I have Worked extremely hard, I still cannot comprehend the Calculations needed for charting the Courses of the Stars. It is difficult enough to keep an Eye upon my pair of Astronomers.

Quest of Souls by Ann Miller and Karen Rigley

'Prosh! Where are you?' Rasson called, running from room to room as his voice echoed through the huge stone dwelling.

The boy heard an annoyed 'meow' in answer and skidded to a stop in front of a stretching gray cat. 'Cat Prosh, I can't wake the Master!'

Then let him sleep. Prosh licked his left paw to express disinterest.

'You don't understand. My master cannot wake. He lies white as morning snow and still, so still. Come see!'

Rasson raced through the main chamber into Master's bedroom with the cat darting past him. Prosh hopped upon the bed, using nose, whiskers and very keen cat eyes to examine the pale master.

You're right. Master cannot wake-his soul is gone. Cat Prosh gazed unblinkingly at the boy.

'Gone?' Rasson leaned over the bed to poke at his master's cheek. 'You mean he's dead?'

No, but he will die, Prosh warned, if you do not rescue his soul by the next new moon.

'How can I do that?'

Get help from the village witch. Prosh leapt off the bed. Now I must find Cook and get my meal.

'Cat Prosh,' called Rasson. 'Come back!'

The cat ignored Rasson and shot away toward the kitchen with the pleading boy trailing behind. They found no