Catalyst

by Sarah Beth Durst

  “I don’t . . .” Zoe felt as if her head were thick with a million thoughts, all of them bashing into one another. Aunt Alecia had been right—it was a lot to absorb. Sitting down had been a good idea.

  Harrison jumped in. “Yes, we absolutely want to see a unicorn!”

  “Not just the unicorn,” Aunt Alecia said. “Sanctuary. The magic world. It’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To bring these extraordinary creatures to their new home, the place where they belong?”

  Zoe wanted to jump to her feet. “No! We came to find a way for me to take Pipsqueak home. You were supposed to reverse this and fix everything!” She threw her arms around one of Pipsqueak’s legs.

  Aunt Alecia sighed. “There you go again, talking about changing them. They are all exactly who they are meant to be.”

  “Well, yes, I know you said that,” Zoe said, still hugging Pipsqueak. “But a giant cat living in Eastbury—”

  “Even if it were possible to change her back, which it isn’t, you would be depriving your cat of who she was meant to be. Because she met you, she is able to realize her potential. Without you, she’d have been unhappy, always missing a piece of herself without knowing why. Unable to grow to her destined size. Unable to speak. Or read. But now . . . look at her! She’s whole.”

  Leaping into the air, Buttermouse performed a flip. “And me! You gave me wings, Zoe! You made me extraordinary! Thank you!”

  Kermit spoke up. “I was sad when my owner wanted me gone, but you all made me happy again. You gave me a new pack.” He thumped his many tails hard on the ground.

  Zoe looked up at Pipsqueak. If she hadn’t changed, she never would have been able to talk with us. And we never would have had this adventure. “But if she stays like this, how can she ever be with me? I promised her we’d be together!”

  Pipsqueak wrapped her paw around Zoe’s waist. “I might be unhappy if I were changed back, but I’ll also be unhappy without Zoe. That’s all I want, to be Zoe’s cat and for her to be my human. That’s what this journey was for. Also to find answers.” She paused. “And to splash in swimming pools, climb up ski lifts, and sing under the stars!”

  “None of which would have happened if you’d stayed a tiny kitten,” Zoe said. She knew that, but . . . “If we can’t change her back . . .” Or if we shouldn’t change her back.

  Wow, that was something she hadn’t even considered.

  But maybe she should.

  All this time, she’d been so focused on “fixing” Pipsqueak that she hadn’t really thought about who Pipsqueak had become . . . Her size, her intelligence, her ability to talk and to read—it was all a part of her.

  Harrison said from the beginning that Pipsqueak was amazing, Zoe thought. I wish I’d listened to him better.

  She stroked Pipsqueak’s paw, marveling afresh that it was larger than her hand. Changing Pipsqueak back now would mean losing everything she had become.

  Maybe Aunt Alecia is right.

  Zoe started again. “If we can’t—shouldn’t—change her back, is there anything we can do? Besides send her through some magic portal, even if it was made by my own great-grandfather?”

  “You won’t be sending her,” Aunt Alecia said. “You’ll be going with her. Once you see the other world, you’ll understand. Pipsqueak will be safe and happy there, and you’ll be able to return home knowing you’ve helped an extraordinary creature.”

  “Come on,” Harrison whispered. “This is a chance to see another world!”

  “I . . .” Zoe looked up at Pipsqueak, who was gazing at her with the same full-of-trust expression she’d had as a kitten. Zoe wanted to jump on her back and ride her all the way home. She wished they’d never come. She should have found a way to hide her, a way to help her . . . but there hadn’t been a way. Coming to Aunt Alecia was the only idea she’d had. And now Aunt Alecia had dumped all these impossible revelations on her . . . Me, magic? And her late great-grandfather had created a portal to another world? A magic world?

  Everyone was looking at her.

  “Well, we’ve come all this way,” she said. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to see it.”

   Chapter 17

  “KERMIT, COULD YOU PLEASE put out the fire?” Aunt Alecia requested.

  Standing, Kermit trotted to the fire, lifted one of his hind legs, and . . . put out the fire as Zoe and Harrison both scrambled away.

  Kermit congratulated himself. “Good dog.”

  “That’s right,” Aunt Alecia said, patting his head. “You’re a good dog.”

  He wagged his many tails.

  “Uh, okay, that worked, I guess.” Harrison picked up his backpack.

  Fetching her pack too, Zoe told herself they were just going to look at this Sanctuary place, to see if it all was true. Maybe while they were there, they’d think of a way Pipsqueak could come back home with her. “Is it far?”

  “Very close,” Aunt Alecia said, gathering her supplies and carrying the still-hot kettle. “I marked it on the map. You were right near it. It’s just hard to see, nearly impossible in fact, if you don’t know what you’re looking for.” She led the way, and they all followed.

  They tromped through the forest to the next clearing, where Zoe was sure they’d been before. Or mostly sure. They’d seen a lot of mountains and woods, and the scenery was all blurring together.

  Stopping, Aunt Alecia said, “Here we are.”

  “Is it hidden with a magic shield?” Harrison asked. He immediately began walking around the clearing, holding his hands out in front of him as if he expected to bump into an invisible wall. “Cloaking device? Please say it’s a cloaking device.”

  Aunt Alecia laughed. “Close. The entrance to Sanctuary is invisible—”

  “Knew it!” Harrison whooped.

  “You did not,” Zoe said. “You thought the map led us nowhere.”

  Aunt Alecia pointed. “If you look at it just right, unfocus your eyes a bit, and look at the background instead of the foreground, you can see it.”

  Kermit’s green tongue lolled out of his mouth. “I think I smell it,” he said.

  Following her finger, Zoe saw a shimmering up ahead. It looked like heat above a barbecue grill—the air seemed to waver—but when she looked directly at it, it vanished.

  Buttermouse landed on Zoe’s shoulder and said, “Look! It’s shiny!”

  “Yeah, I see it too!” Harrison said. “Sort of.”

  Reaching up, Zoe stroked Buttermouse’s back between his wings. The little mouse didn’t seem scared or even worried, which was reassuring. “How did you know what to look for the first time you found it?” she asked her aunt.

  “Your great-grandfather. Remember I said the magic had popped up in our family before? He left a diary that explained how he made this portal, though it took me years to find the right spot. He was vague on where he’d made it.”

  Zoe wished she could have met her great-grandfather. She had a lot of questions for him. Maybe he would have known what to do about Pipsqueak. There has to be something I can do besides say goodbye!

  “Go ahead,” Aunt Alecia said. “Look around a bit. Get your friends settled. We can talk more when you get back.”

  All of them stared at the crack between worlds. It looked, Zoe thought, like a knife had cut the air. You could see the pine trees on the opposite side of the slit, but they were wavy and blurred.

  “So we just . . . walk through it?” Harrison asked.

  Kermit whined. “Will it hurt?”

  “Not at all,” Aunt Alecia said. “Here, I’ll show you how easy it is.” She strode up to the shimmer. “It doesn’t hurt even a—” And she vanished.

  Zoe had been expecting a slow fade. Or a sparkle. Or some kind of special effect like you’d see in a movie. But mid-sentence, Aunt Alecia stepped into the wavering air and disappeared.

  One second there, the next gone. Like magic, Zoe thought.

  Of course like magic.

  “Wow,” Harrison said.

  “Yeah,�
�� Zoe agreed.

  They waited what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds, and then Aunt Alecia reappeared just as suddenly. Zoe hadn’t even blinked.

  “See? Easy.” Aunt Alecia beamed at them. “I’ll wait here until you’re done.” She dropped her pack, settled herself on a rock, and poured herself another cup of tea from the kettle.

  “You look scared,” Pipsqueak said to Zoe.

  “I am,” Zoe admitted.

  “Aren’t you curious? Curious as a cat?” Pipsqueak lowered her head and bumped it gently against Zoe. “There are answers through there.”

  “But there might not be a way home.”

  “Maybe once we see, we’ll figure out a way.”

  I hope so, Zoe thought. Reaching up and petting between Pipsqueak’s ears, she stared at the portal and couldn’t sort out how it made her feel. She felt jumbled inside.

  On the other side of that hazy bit of air was supposedly a whole magical world, maybe filled with giant talking cats . . . If we go through that shimmer . . . Will we discover that Pipsqueak belongs there instead of with me? “It’s just—what if . . .”

  “Ride on me,” Pipsqueak suggested. “We’ll go through together.”

  That was the perfect idea. Zoe wrapped her arms around Pipsqueak and climbed up onto her back. She held out her hand and helped Harrison up behind her. Buttermouse flew over to them and landed on Pipsqueak’s head.

  Together, they rode up to the shimmer, with Kermit following. Zoe could hear Kermit murmuring to himself, “You can do this. You’re a good dog. Brave dog. Yeah, who’s a good dog? You are.”

  Stopping in front of the portal, Pipsqueak stuck her paw into the hazy air. It vanished.

  Harrison yelped. “That! Is! Freaky!”

  Pipsqueak yanked her paw back. She licked the pads and between her toes and then extended her paw again. It vanished a second time. “Your aunt is right—it doesn’t hurt.”

  “Still looks freaky. Half of me wants to turn around and run the other way,” Harrison admitted with a melodramatic shudder.

  “And the other half ?” Zoe asked.

  “The other half wants to shout ‘Tallyho!’ and ride through.”

  Zoe’s lips twitched. It was hard to be scared of anything when Harrison was with her, making her laugh. His enthusiasm was contagious. “Seriously? Tallyho?”

  “Try it, Zoe,” he urged.

  Together, Zoe, Pipsqueak, and Harrison shouted “Tallyho!” and Pipsqueak plunged forward, carrying them through the shimmer.

  * * *

  The forest blinked around them, and they were in a meadow. Zoe inhaled, and the air made her feel dizzy. It smelled, even tasted, different, as if a thousand flowers had been wadded together and dipped in honey. The bright sun, after the dappled forest, made her squint as the scenery resolved itself: a meadow, a stream, a few distant mountains, groves of trees.

  It was the White Mountains. But it wasn’t. Aunt Alecia wasn’t here. Breathing in, Zoe again tasted the difference, even though she couldn’t see it. Maybe the magic is in the air, she thought.

  “It’s the same,” Harrison said. “Sort of.”

  “Pretty!” Buttermouse cried.

  “It feels different,” Zoe said. She couldn’t exactly put her finger on why it felt different. It was a bit like the way your head felt if you stood up quickly. A little dizzy, but not in a fall-down way. She twisted around and saw the portal behind them, wrinkling the air.

  Kermit the Dog popped out of the shimmer. He immediately began sniffing everything: rocks, bushes, flowers. “Everything smells good!”

  “Very good!” Buttermouse squeaked. He wiggled his nose, sniffing the air, and then flapped his wings, rising up from Pipsqueak’s head. Zoe watched him wobble in the air as he joined a flock of other winged mice. They landed on fat pink flowers that swayed beneath them. “Yay, more friends to meet!” sang Buttermouse. “I am the luckiest!”

  “Guess we came to the right place,” Harrison said.

  Zoe felt Pipsqueak stiffen beneath her, and then the cat sat down. Zoe and Harrison slid off her back. Coming around to her head, Zoe asked, “What is it?”

  Pipsqueak let loose a yowl so loud it could have shaken a football stadium.

  She bounded across the meadow, and Zoe saw, by a grove of trees, another giant cat. This one was long-haired, with black and white fur in splotches. She saw the strange cat’s tail arch up and then settle down as Pipsqueak skidded to a halt.

  They were too far away for Zoe to hear what they were saying, but they were clearly talking. Pipsqueak was circling the other cat, examining him from every angle, but her tail was relaxed and she didn’t look scared.

  “She’s really not the only one,” Zoe said, awed.

  Everything Aunt Alecia had said was true!

  Even about me? she wondered.

  And even about Pipsqueak belonging here?

  Watching Pipsqueak frolic in the meadow with the black and white cat, Zoe began to laugh. She didn’t know why she was laughing. It was only that Pipsqueak looked so free and happy that she couldn’t not laugh. It bubbled up inside her.

  After a few minutes, Pipsqueak trotted back toward them, with the other cat following. Both were roughly the size of elephants. The black and white cat was narrower, and its fur draped from its belly to the grass. “Zoe, meet . . .”

  “Cow,” the other cat said. Reaching them, he added, “When I was half grown, I got lost. I accidentally fell through the portal and found my way to a farm. There were cats there, but they were ordinary size and afraid of me. So I didn’t spend time with them. I spent my time out on a field, with the cows. The farmer did think I was one of them, at least until he got closer. Anyway, when Alecia rescued me and brought me back to Sanctuary, Cow became my name.”

  “Nice to meet you, Cow,” Zoe said.

  Harrison grabbed her arm. “Look! Bigfeet!” He pointed toward the trees, where several hairy man-shaped creatures were lumbering by. “Bigfoots? We can ask them which it is.”

  Cow craned his neck to see where they were looking. “You won’t get much of an answer out of them. They mainly grunt. But you can try if you like. I can promise you, though, I’m a much better conversationalist. How about you tell me your names, where you come from, and why you’re here?”

  “Oh.” Zoe studied the cat for a moment. “Aunt Alecia . . . my mother’s sister . . . she guided us here.” She watched Kermit race across the meadow, fetch a random stick, and then run back.

  “You’re Alecia’s family! Excellent news! She has been missing her family. She told me so herself during my most recent visit to your world.”

  “The cat paw prints we saw!” Harrison burst out. “They were yours!”

  He displayed his paws. “Must have been.”

  “I’m Zoe. And this is my friend Harrison. You met Pipsqueak. That’s Kermit”—she pointed to the dog and then the flying mice, though she wasn’t sure which mouse was theirs—“and that’s Buttermouse.”

  “You found so many!” Cow asked. “Highly unusual!”

  “Aunt Alecia says I’m a Catalyst. Do you know what that means?”

  Cow began to purr. “Oh, that explains everything! How wonderful! It means you have reunited more families than just your own. They were drawn to you, and you brought them here. Pipsqueak, Kermit, and Buttermouse, welcome! You will be safe here! Your families will be found, and you will flourish in your new home!”

  “Oh, Pipsqueak and I are just visiting,” Zoe said quickly. All she had to do was figure out how she could keep Pipsqueak safe at home without changing who she’d become. “Right, Pipsqueak?”

  But Pipsqueak didn’t reply. She was marveling at the flock of winged mice flying by, with Buttermouse at the center, performing figure eights in midair.

  * * *

  Cow showed them around.

  Sanctuary looked like their world in every way, except for the presence of magical creatures. Same sun. Same sky. Same mountains blanketed in evergreen
s. Zoe, Pipsqueak, and Harrison walked along a stream that burbled over stones, and while Cow pointed out a herd of unicorns grazing on wildflowers, he told them that farther to the south, there were cities with people.

  Stopping, they stared at the unicorns, so distant you could see their horns only as slim shadows rising from their foreheads, but the signature horns were unmistakably there.

  “Our friends will be safe here?” Harrison asked.

  “This world is called Sanctuary for a reason,” Cow said. “Everyone here understands the rule of ‘Do no harm.’”

  “This place is amazing!” Pipsqueak said. Nearby, Kermit clearly agreed. He was racing back and forth beneath the flock of mice, zigzagging as he followed one and then another.

  Pipsqueak seems happy, Zoe thought. And she’d be safe here, and unafraid.

  “So all these creatures”—Harrison waved at the unicorns and the flock of flying mice—“they were born in this world, surrounded by magic, so they grew up magical. Except for the ones whose distant relatives got stuck on Earth. They didn’t change until they got here, or until they met someone like Zoe. Or, more accurately, were drawn to someone like Zoe. Yes?”

  “Correct,” Cow said.

  “Cool.”

  They watched the mice and the unicorns. Kermit was digging a hole for no apparent reason. His tails were wagging so hard with joy and excitement that his whole body was vibrating.

  “Magic is real,” Zoe said, trying out the words.

  “Yep. I believe in magic,” Harrison said. “One hundred percent believer here. Going to move all my fantasy books to the nonfiction shelf.”