Reduced to a speck of dust, Marco turned his face to wash a non-existent itch on his back. Cicero would change his mind now, probably throwing him out on his ear.
"Marco, look at me. We are cats. Try to remember that," said Cicero simply. “Now come up here and let’s have no more foolishness.”
Marco looked up at Cicero, who had made his blunder vanish like a puff of smoke. With this cat, nothing was predictable.
Marco jumped quickly up to the table. Alaniah flew in swirls around the room, in ever-smaller circles, until she landed on top of the box. As soon as she touched it, one side of the box opened up like a flower. Inside was Akeel’s book.
Marco gasped. “It really is Akeel’s book.” He looked around the room, half expecting to see him. “I wish he were here.”
"I understand. I do feel his presence when I am with the book. This is his legacy, however.”
"So… Akeel brought the book here?"
"No, but someday I will tell you the story of how we both came to be in this place."
Marco started feeling cocky again. “Make it do something. Like Akeel did.”
“Not allowed.”
“What do you mean? You are the Guardian. You can do whatever you want, right?”
“Yes… and no.”
“That’s not much of an answer. Here I am, on my first day of training. So train me.”
He felt Cicero’s glare, but he didn’t feel like backing off.
Finally Cicero gave in. “I will show you one small thing. But understand this. You cannot use its magic except for very serious matters. Life and death. Or to save the Book itself. Its power is addictive and it becomes dangerous to the one using it.”
Marco waited eagerly.
“Marco?”
“Yes?”
“Do you understand?”
Marco was sure the right answer was ‘yes’. “Yes, Cicero.”
Cicero looked around the barren cave-like room with only a table and the Book.
“Hop down,” he ordered Marco.
They both jumped off the table. Cicero closed his eyes and mumbled some words, and the table changed shape. In one smooth transformation, the top became a piece of thick clear-cut glass, and the legs appeared to be growing out of the floor like a tree trunk.
Cicero looked pleased. “I may leave it that way. It’s one way I keep in practice… changing the table.”
Marco could not believe how lame this trick was. “How will this help me? What if I’m in some life or death situation? I hardly think redecorating tables will save anyone!”
“You want something more dramatic?” Cicero sighed. “Okay, Marco, just this once I will give you dramatic. You will need to learn the language anyway.” Cicero closed his eyes. “I usually say this silently.” He began to chant in a strange language.
“Fa-taw-lah-nee, rah-ma-la-nee, ma-fa-taw-nee, moon-too-lah.”
Marco had never heard anything so silly in his life. He yawned—and because his eyes were closed for a half second—he missed how the magic happened. When he opened them, a strange human towered above him.
Spooked, Marco turned and ran out the door, but he stopped on the other side to peer back inside. The man was chuckling and holding out his hand to Marco. “Is this dramatic enough?”
“Cicero?”
The man looked at Marco and smiled. “Yes?”
“You’re human?”
Cicero as a man reached down to pick up Marco and scratch behind his ears. “I always wanted to see what that felt like to a human.”
Marco loved being held again. “Will you stay like this?” he purred.
“Oh my, no,” replied Cicero. “Being human is much too complicated.”
Chapter 34: Library Invaders
Sting never hated cats before. He never even thought about them except when they got in his way. What was he doing wasting his precious time stalking this stupid Marco? Hanging out by the library, for pete’s sake. But there he was, climbing a tree with that ridiculous ferret right behind him.
But at least he knew he was in the right place. The strange raccoon had been telling the truth about the cats’ new hideout. He didn’t know what to think about Lazer. He’d never taken advice from anyone before, so why was he listening to this guy?
Oh yeah, something about the cats having magical powers because of a book. And if he was right about the cats, then he must be right about the warehouse full of food. Sting’s mouth watered at the thought of so much food all in one place. More than he could eat, Lazer told him. Hah! Like that was possible.
“Crimmany, go see what he’s up to,” he ordered. “Maybe he’s got the book in there.”
Crimmany dutifully climbed up the tree and looked in the library window.
“Well? What’s in there?” Sting whispered loudly.
“Not much.”
“What are they doing? Readin'?” Sting yelled sarcastically, not bothering anymore to keep quiet.
“Mostly sleeping.”
“Stupid cats,” Sting muttered. “Well, if they’re sleeping it oughta be easy. All we got to do is steal the book and we’re home free.”
“Home free? Whaddya mean, boss?”
Sting couldn’t explain it to these two morons, but he couldn’t exactly remember what Lazer had said either, and it didn’t make quite as much sense now. Oh well, they’d be eatin’ good. That was the most important thing.
“We steal their book and we’ll be smarter and stronger."
"You told us we already were smarter and stronger," whined Crimmany.
"Of course we are!" snapped Sting. "But if we have their book, the cats will go back to being normal—like stupid alley cats. That's obvious, isn’t it? Enough talk. It’s time for action.”
Besides being the meanest, one of the reasons Sting was the leader was his scouting abilities, and this time, too, he was able to find a tunnel that got them inside the library. The raccoons clambered over each other, trying to be the first one through. Sting won, of course. Crimmany came next, but was too slow and Tank kicked him in the backside.
Once inside, they stopped in their tracks, awestruck. They were immersed in a sea of books.
Sting was almost reverent. "This is gonna be a bigger job than I thought,” he said. For a moment, he was overcome by the atmosphere, by things he didn’t have the brain cells or language to explain.
Then he came to his senses. “Figures cats’d hang out in a place like this.”
“Disgustin’ ain’t it?” Tank said.
Crimmany piped up, “Hey, maybe we should learn to read.” He spotted a table with children’s books lying out. “I’ll bet it’s not that hard.” He climbed on the table and opened one. “Oh, cool pictures. Take a look, you guys.”
Tank started to wander over, but Sting nudged him, rolling his eyes and staring at the ceiling.
“It might be kinda fun. We should give it a try,” insisted Crimmany.
“Why would I want to read?” barked Sting. “If I want to know somethin’ I’ll ask a cat!” He wadded up a piece of newspaper and threw it at Crimmany.
“Cut it out!” yelled Crimmany, abandoning the book. He made his own paper wad and ran after Sting. In the midst of the tussle, Sting caught a movement from the second floor balcony.
He froze, even as one of Crimmany’s paper balls struck him on the head. How long had that stupid cat been spying on him? He cursed under his breath.
“Well, look who’s here!” Sting said to Marco, as if he didn’t absolutely loathe him. “I believe we’ve met before. Let’s see, you’re the Defender of Deformed Rats, aren’t you? What are you defending tonight? Must be books, ‘cause that’s all I see here.”
Chapter 35: Pandemonium
Marco glared down at Sting from between the rails of the balcony. Why did this creep keep showing up everywhere? Especially here, his refuge from the world. “What are you doing in the library? You can’t read.”