“What happened to you, Bait? You were not like this when I first met you.”
“No? Maybe not. Maybe I still had some hope in me. Like you. I thought I could get back into Cicero’s good graces. But he shut me out... completely. Then you came along… not so corrupt as his old student… and I knew it was all over for me. He gave up on me. So I gave up trying.”
Marco felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Bait. “I’m… ”
“Don’t,” said Bait.
“Wha…?”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I can’t stand it.”
“You are heartless, even to yourself. I think that’s the saddest part of this.”
“I don’t need your pity!” Bait suddenly leaped onto him and sank his teeth into Marco’s leg. “There! You want to retract that touching bit of sympathy? Save it for Cicero—after I finish with him.”
Bait backed up and crouched, ready for another attack. Marco ignored the pain and got himself into a better position. He didn’t want to be caught off guard again and didn’t wait to be attacked. He leaped on top of Bait and held his head between his paws, his sharp claws digging into the sides of Bait’s face. Blood spurted out, making it harder for Marco to keep his hold. He slipped and rolled down the steep roof. The only thing that kept him from falling was the gutter.
He righted himself just as Bait pounced on top of him. Marco fell over the edge of the roof, barely grabbing hold of the gutter with his claws. Pain pierced through his body and he felt himself slipping toward certain death.
Bait came over to gloat at Marco’s predicament. “Too bad for you. It’s certain now that you’ll never become a Guardian,” he said. “But think of it this way. At least you've secured your legacy as one of the Dead Cats."
Bait put his full weight behind the punch he prepared to deal to Marco. It should have been the end of him, but a deafening crack of thunder and a high-voltage jolt of lightning split the sky open. Bait lost his concentration and his balance.
Rain poured from the sky and Marco heard the thud of Bait’s body hit the ground sixty feet below.
Chapter 48: Dead cats
“What’s this?” cried Tank. “A dead cat?”
“One dead cat!” announced Crimmany, circling the body, like he was taking credit for his demise.
Tweezer and Caffeina came over to view the lifeless body. They stood there in the rain, sniffed and nudged him with their noses and looked at each other. What a strange thing that Bait had come to fall out of the sky with the rain, thought Tweezer.
“Aw. Poor kitty. Looks like you lost one of your pals,” said Sting. “But save your crying for later. After you’re all dead.”
“That’s a good one, Sting!” said Crimmany.
Sting was ignoring Crimmany and staring hard at Tweezer instead. Tweezer raised to his full height and more than met his look. “I believe we were in the middle of a fight,” he said.
“Looks like you’ve lost more fights than you’ve won,” Sting replied. “Just like you’re going to lose this one.”
“You’ve haven’t seen my opponents when I’m done with them.”
“Fightin' kitties doesn’t count.”
“I’ve wrestled with you before.”
“Just warm up exercises.”
The sound of sirens was in the background, growing louder. Tweezer tuned it out, so he could keep all his senses for the battle. He dared not look away from Sting, but he was aware of Tank and Crimmany. They flanked their leader on both sides. Then there was the two other raccoons hovering around the edges.
Tweezer moved to one side to keep his opponent slightly off balance.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” goaded Tank.
Caffeina, however, could not keep hers. “What’s the matter with you Sting? Why do you enjoy making our lives miserable? We are peace-loving cats, but I’ll tell you right now, you will be sorry you got on our bad side!”
“You cats are such comedians. I’m dying from laughter,” said Crimmany.
The two combatants continued to size each other up, both on their haunches, thrusting paws in threatening gestures, each provoking the other into making the first move.
Tweezer had his eyes locked onto Sting, but he knew what was going on around him, as though he had eyes in the back of his head.
Caffeina saw the movement at the same time Tweezer did. “Tweezer! Watch out!” One of the raccoons at his back lurched forward to attack him.
Tweezer lunged forward to avoid the attack. At the same time, he shoved Crimmany into Sting’s body with a force that took both raccoons down.
Tweezer whirled around to face the other raccoons, while Pudge, Skitzo and Caffeina had already tackled the other three.
But Tweezer soon realized they weren’t home free. Raccoons came creeping out of the bushes, their eyes on fire. They swallowed up the very air around them and dove into the melee.
It was a noisy, riotous brawl and the cats were completely engulfed by their attackers, the odds totally against them.
No one saw Bait get up from his fall and slink away.
Chapter 49: Would you like something for the pain?
The thunder no longer came in soft rolls. It hit with deafening cracks and competed with the blare of sirens.
Marco was still on the roof, licking his wounds. He didn’t care that he was getting soaked. His leg, badly bitten, was too painful for him to move. However, as torn and bloody as he was, he was satisfied he’d taken care of Bait. Actually, he was pretty proud of the way he’d handled the whole thing and couldn’t wait to tell Cicero.
“You were lucky.”
Marco jerked his head up in surprise. He saw only the rain hitting the dark tiles of the roof. The voice spoke again in a low murmur. “Lucky this time. Maybe not so lucky the next.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m your inspiration.”
“You are? Why can’t I see you?”
“I work behind the scenes.” Lighting streaked white veins across the black sky and Marco saw the blur of a shadow where the voice came from.
“Would you like something for the pain?” Without waiting for an answer, the shadow swept over and covered Marco like a cloak. The pain disappeared and he no longer felt the rain falling on him.
“Isn’t that better?”
“Yes, very nice,” said Marco, feeling pleasantly drowsy.
“What are your plans now?”
“Plans? I don’t know. I should find Cicero and see what can be done about putting out the fire.”
“Don’t worry. The firemen will take care of it.”
“Good. That’s very good,” Marco answered groggily.
“We need to have a talk, Marco.”
“We do? I just want to sleep.”
“Yes, you will sleep soon enough. A nice, long nap. But first, I want to ask. Have you really thought about what it means to be a Guardian?”
“Sure.” Marco peered out through half-opened eyes, wondering who he was talking to.
“You should be aware of some things. Can I tell you now?”
“Okay.” Marco sighed contentedly. He felt happy and warm, in spite of being wet. It was nice to have someone to talk to.
“You should think about what it means to be a Guardian. For the rest of your life, you will be bound to the Book. You cannot leave it, put it aside, or go on a journey, even a short one. No matter what, you will spend the rest of your days as the library cat. Day after day. Year after year. It’s not an exciting life. Not the life of adventure you had planned.”
“Really? I hadn’t thou…”
“I know you hadn’t. That’s why I’m here. To help you think.”
“Oh, well thank you.” Marco could barely stay awake and was not at all sure what this thing… or whoever was talking to him… was saying.
“You will never be able to tell anyone what you do. Not even the librarians will know. You will live in obscurity, petted by old women, tortured by small children. No one will appreciate your sacrifices.”