Darklord’s Cat

Naomi Hoshino was going to be late getting home.

This was not unusual.

She had been late on Monday because Aiko wanted to stop for something to eat. She had been late Tuesday because the train had been delayed. Wednesday had been entirely Naomi’s fault, though she continued to blame the bookstore for placing a new manga display directly in her path.

Today she had an excuse.

It was raining.

Naomi stood beneath the awning of a small shop and watched the rain fall upon the street. Cars moved slowly along the wet road, their tires pushing water toward the sidewalk.

She looked at her phone.

5:17.

Her mother had already sent two messages.

Where are you?

Then, three minutes later:

Naomi?

Naomi sighed.

“I’m coming.”

The phone did not care.

She typed a reply.

Rain. Walking home. Almost there.

She stared at the message for a moment before adding:

Don’t worry.

That would probably guarantee her mother worried.

Naomi slipped the phone into her school bag and pulled the hood of her jacket over her head. Her school uniform was already damp around the bottom of the skirt. Her shoes were wet. Her socks were wet.

She hated wet socks.

There were probably worse things in life, but at seventeen Naomi had decided wet socks deserved a respectable place on the list.

She stepped from beneath the awning.

Cold rain immediately struck her face.

“Wonderful.”

Naomi hurried along the sidewalk.

Home was only a few blocks away. She could already imagine getting inside, dropping her bag near the door, changing clothes and finding something warm to eat. Her mother would complain about the bag being left near the door. Naomi would promise to move it.

She probably would not.

A traffic light ahead changed.

Naomi quickened her pace.

She reached the crossing as the pedestrian signal began flashing.

There was enough time.

Probably.

Naomi stepped into the street.

A horn sounded.

She turned.

Bright headlights filled her vision.

There was no time to move.

The impact came hard.

Then there was nothing.

***

Naomi opened her eyes.

For several moments she remained perfectly still.

Something was wrong.

She knew this before she understood anything else.

Her head did not hurt.

Her arms did not hurt.

Nothing hurt.

She remembered the horn.

She remembered the headlights.

Naomi tried to sit up.

Her body did not cooperate in the manner she expected.

She rolled awkwardly onto her side.

“What?”

The word did not come out.

Instead, Naomi heard a small sound.

“Mrr?”

She froze.

That had not been her voice.

Naomi tried again.

“Hello?”

“Meow.”

She stopped moving.

No.

Absolutely not.

She attempted to lift one hand.

A small black paw appeared in front of her face.

Naomi stared at it.

The paw moved.

She moved what should have been her fingers.

The paw flexed.

Naomi’s eyes widened.

She tried the other hand.

Another paw.

“No!”

“MEEEOOOW!”

Naomi scrambled backward.

Her four legs immediately became involved in an argument over which direction backward actually was. She tumbled across a hard stone floor and struck something wooden.

A book fell from above and landed beside her.

Naomi jumped.

The movement carried her much farther than expected.

She landed on top of a table.

Her claws scratched across its polished surface.

Naomi looked down.

The floor was a considerable distance below.

She looked at her paws again.

Four.

She had four paws.

Her breathing quickened.

This was impossible.

She remembered leaving school. She remembered the rain. She remembered checking her phone. She remembered crossing the street.

The car.

Naomi stopped.

The car had hit her.

“No.”

A quiet sound came from somewhere nearby.

Naomi spun around.

Someone was sitting in a chair.

She had not noticed him.

That fact disturbed her almost as much as the paws.

The young man stared at her.

Naomi stared back.

He appeared only a few years older than she was, perhaps eighteen or nineteen. His dark hair fell carelessly around his face. He wore a long black robe with silver markings sewn around the collar and sleeves. Several books were stacked on the desk beside him, along with glass bottles containing liquids of various colors.

One of the bottles was smoking.

The young man looked at the bottle.

He reached over and moved it farther away from a pile of books.

Then he returned his attention to Naomi.

“Interesting.”

Naomi’s fear briefly gave way to irritation.

Interesting?

She was a cat.

She was apparently a cat sitting on a table in a room belonging to someone dressed for a fantasy convention, and his contribution was interesting.

“Who are you?”

“Meow.”

The young man tilted his head.

Naomi stared at him.

“Where am I?”

“Meow.”

His eyebrow lifted.

Naomi’s ears lowered.

“Stop looking at me like that!”

“MEEOW!”

The young man leaned back in his chair.

“Well, you certainly have opinions.”

Naomi rushed toward him.

She intended to grab his robe and demand answers.

She had momentarily forgotten she possessed claws.

The young man quickly stood as Naomi attached herself to the front of his robe.

“Ow!”

Naomi hung there.

He looked down at her.

She looked up at him.

“Release me.”

Naomi hissed.

“That was not a request.”

She hissed again.

The young man sighed.

“Very well.”

He carefully took hold of Naomi beneath her front legs and lifted her away from his robe.

Naomi suddenly found herself dangling in the air.

She did not like this.

Her back legs kicked.

“Stop that.”

Naomi kicked harder.

“You are accomplishing nothing.”

One rear paw struck him on the chin.

The young man nearly dropped her.

Naomi twisted free, landed upon the table and immediately backed away.

He rubbed his chin.

“You are remarkably violent for something so small.”

Naomi hissed again.

“And you hiss too much.”

Naomi wanted to hit him again.

The young man returned to his chair.

He studied her carefully.

Naomi used the opportunity to study the room.

Stone walls surrounded her. Tall shelves covered much of them, filled with books, scrolls, jars and objects she could not identify. Candles burned without producing smoke. A large circular window looked out upon a dark sky.

Naomi approached it.

There were no city lights.

No buildings.

No telephone poles.

No airplanes.

Beyond the window were mountains.

A forest stretched beneath them.

Naomi stared.

This was not Tokyo.

This was not anywhere she knew.

She turned back toward the young man.

He had picked up a book.

Naomi could not believe it.

He was reading.

She walked across the table and sat directly on the open pages.

The young man looked at her.

Naomi looked at him.

“Move.”

She remained where she was.

“I am attempting to determine what went wrong.”

Naomi’s ears rose.

The young man noticed.

He slowly closed the book as much as Naomi’s body permitted.

“You understood me.”

Naomi stared at him.

“Meow.”

His expression changed.

He stood.

Naomi backed away.

“Do you understand what I am saying?”

Naomi nodded.

Silence filled the room.

The young man stared at her.

Naomi stared back.

“That,” he finally said, “should not be possible.”

Naomi slapped one paw against the table.

“Meow!”

“Yes, I gathered that you disagree.”

Naomi pointed a paw at herself.

Then she pointed at him.

The young man’s eyes narrowed.

“You are attempting to communicate.”

Naomi nodded rapidly.

He stepped closer.

“What are you?”

Naomi looked down at herself.

She looked back at him.

Her eyes narrowed.

Really?

She lifted one paw and displayed it.

The young man frowned.

“I can see that you are a cat.”

Naomi smacked the paw against her forehead.

Apparently she had been reincarnated into a world containing magic but not common sense.

The young man walked toward another table. A circle had been drawn upon the stone floor beside it. Strange symbols surrounded the circle. Several candles had burned almost completely away.

Naomi watched him kneel.

He touched one of the symbols.

A faint violet light appeared beneath his fingers.

“I completed the invocation correctly.”

Naomi jumped from the table.

She landed easily this time.

Her new body was beginning to make sense whether she wanted it to or not.

She approached the circle.

Something about it bothered her.

The young man looked at her.

“This is a familiar invocation.”

Naomi stopped.

He pointed toward the circle.

“I performed it shortly before you appeared.”

Naomi stared at him.

Familiar.

She knew that word.

At least she knew what it meant in fantasy stories.

She pointed at herself.

The young man nodded.

“Apparently.”

Naomi shook her head violently.

“Meow!”

“I assure you, I did not request a cat.”

Naomi’s eyes narrowed.

That sounded insulting.

The young man apparently realized this.

“I did not mean there was anything wrong with being a cat.”

Naomi growled.

“There is clearly something wrong with this particular cat.”

Naomi charged him.

He raised both hands.

“Enough.”

A pulse of violet light crossed the room.

Naomi stopped.

Not because she wanted to.

Her body simply refused to move.

Her eyes widened.

The young man seemed equally surprised.

He lowered his hand.

Naomi could move again.

She immediately backed away.

“So the bond exists.”

Naomi did not like the sound of that.

The young man slowly crouched so they were closer to eye level.

“My name is Lucien.”

Naomi watched him carefully.

“I am master of this tower.”

She looked around.

Tower?

That explained the height.

Lucien continued.

“I hold the Seat of Alchemy upon the Arcane Conclave, although I doubt that means anything to you.”

It did not.

“What concerns me is that my spell called for a magical familiar. Instead, I received you.”

Naomi sat down.

She pointed at herself again.

Then placed one paw against her chest.

Lucien frowned.

“You have a name?”

Naomi nodded.

“Of course you do.”

She waited.

Lucien waited.

Naomi opened her mouth.

“Meow.”

Lucien stared at her.

Naomi closed her eyes.

This was going to be difficult.

Very difficult.

Then Lucien suddenly stiffened.

Naomi opened her eyes.

He was staring directly at her.

“Naomi.”

Her ears rose.

Lucien’s face lost some of its color.

“I heard that.”

Naomi stepped closer.

Lucien placed a hand against his temple.

“Not with my ears.”

Naomi stared at him.

“Naomi,” he repeated. “Your name is Naomi.”

She nodded.

Lucien slowly sat upon the stone floor.

Naomi approached him.

For the first time since she had awakened, neither of them appeared interested in fighting.

Lucien looked into her eyes.

“Naomi, what were you before you came here?”

She thought about school.

Her mother.

The rain.

The headlights.

The car.

She concentrated upon a single thought.

Human.

Lucien’s eyes widened.

Naomi saw the answer upon his face before he spoke.

“Oh.”

Naomi waited.

Lucien looked toward the summoning circle.

Then back at her.

“This is a problem.”

Naomi hissed.

Lucien nodded.

“Yes. I thought you might feel that way.”