Kat Among The Pigeons

by Lazette Gifford

  "Into the sewers. Back to the mountains. At night they wander everywhere. They look at things."

  "They plan something," I said.

  She bobbed her head and finally took interest in the grain. I let her eat a bit and listened to the others -- fragments of descriptions liberally mixed with pleasure at having me back. Their happiness filled me with joy, and I held the emotion even when I saw a horseman at the barn door.

  "Be gone," I ordered. I had the feeling the rider spied on me to take the news back to someone. I reached with a quick spell and tried to make him go, and when it didn't work, I struck the ghost rider with a bolt of magical energy. The power had come of pure frustration, and the careless expenditure put me down to my knees, panting and dizzy.

  "Careful Kat!" Pretty warned, her wings flapping in distress.

  I watched with grim satisfaction as small pieces of the rider scatter on the breeze, tendrils pulled away in waves of mist until he disappeared.

  I wish I had such power to attack all of them. However, despite the extra magic in the air, I felt as though I couldn't pull enough in to recoup the loss. I had so little natural magic left that my skin had gone pale and my body translucent. More loss too soon and I'd no longer be me. I might reform after a while, but I'd have lost this life along with the memories of who I am.

  I was still quite sane enough to think life as a spirit on the wind didn't sound like an interesting adventure.

  I sat in the cold with the pigeons dancing around me. They ate the grain I offered and sang happy songs about me. I felt as though not everything in the world had gone bad. They didn't talk any more about the dark things. I thought about them, though. I knew what I needed to do tonight.

  The extra magic in the air finally helped me recover. When I could stand without feeling ill, I bade farewell to the pigeons and walked back out into the snow-filled day. The riders had moved out of my immediate range, so I guess my show at least did some good.

  Pretty came to the door behind me and stopped as a dusting of snow covered her feathers. "Careful Kat," she cooed and shifted from one foot to the other. "Careful."

  "I will be," I promised, happy for the warning from a friend who cared.

  A flock of chickadees flittered around the limbs of a tree nearby and shouted greetings as I headed for my car. They didn't have anything to add to the warning from the pigeons, but I didn't mind. Having them nearby soothed me.

  I drove straight home. Birds had gathered in the trees outside my place and I had the odd feeling I now had more guards than I could feed. I would have to go back to The Rookery or one of the co-ops and pick up more bird food.

  I smiled as I went up the porch steps and opened the door -- then looked back with a start as half a dozen cats charged across the yard. I stepped inside and held the door for them, and they ran straight into the house with Trouble in the lead.

  "Holy shit!" Gaylord shouted. He leapt from the perch to the top of Shakespeare's head, and from the startled parrot to the top of my china cabinet.

  "They won't hurt you," I told him.

  He didn't believe me, no doubt because some of the cats watched him with what could only be a hint of hunger and the lust for a hunt.

  "Yeah, right. I'll just stay up here."

  Trouble came and rubbed against my leg, which he'd never done before. The others stood back and waited. I hadn't ever met two of them.

  "We tried to reach you," Trouble said, his voice a loud rumble, deep and strong. "But something kept pushing us away. Some cats wanted to stay clear of you after what happened to Pawford and the others, but I knew their deaths weren't your fault. And you always done right by us. You gave us fish and we never starved. I figure we owe you."

  Thank you," I said. They would get plenty of food today. "What --"

  Cato stepped into the room, yawning and stretching. Fur fluffed up all around and hisses filled the air -- normal cat greetings. Cato's tail fluffed out and his ears went back, but before I could give a warning to either side, he shook his head and took a step backwards.

  "I'll just go to go nap in the closet again."

  He turned around and walked away.

  Trouble watched Cato retreat, his head to the side, plainly perplexed. He finally looked back up at me.

  "We're still trying to catch those little creatures," Trouble said. He gave an impatient flick of his tail, and I knew the peripix must have been frustrating them all. "We get a few on the street, but mostly they've taken up nesting in places where I get the feeling they shouldn't be. The power plant, the phone exchange, the cable and computer buildings --"

  "Oh hell," I said, feeling another one of those rollercoaster surges of adrenaline. "They're going to cut the power to everything before too long!"

  "Maybe it's what they want," Trouble said. The other cats nodded emphatically.

  "I don't think peripix have the intelligence to plan --" I stopped, remembering what the pigeons had told me. "They have help."

  "Yeah. We seen things at night," a little gray cat said at last. She shivered. "Big things and they eat cats. We stay clear of them. But sometimes the little things go wandering around with them."

  "Stay clear of them. Don't risk yourselves," I said. I saw green, gold and blue eyes turn my way with a little disdain. Cats never like to hear that they're small and weak. I quickly rethought my statement. "I need you guys to keep watch places where I can't go. Someone purposely made sure you couldn't talk to me because you're important. I need you."

  Those words suited them better. Trouble rubbed my legs again.

  "I know you've seen the riders," he said. "The humans don't see them yet, but I think they will soon."

  "That's what I fear."

  "We'll keep watch." He turned and headed back out the door. Outside the birds flittered around, and I heard groups heading off on recon work. Things appeared well organized.

  The riders hovered, just beyond the yard, and I knew there would be more problems from them soon. We were running out of daylight. I feared the trouble we would face tonight.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I didn't expect Aletta to show up at my house. I saw her walking along the street, looking like a fashion model that had lost her way from a magazine cover. She paused and glanced into the trees, frowning at the birds. With a wave of her hand, she sent them all scattering.

  I was not in the mood for her games, so I met her on the porch, hoping to get her away all the faster.

  "Kitty." She took a step forward as though she expected me to invite her in. I didn't. She gave a petulant little frown that probably melted men's hearts, but the look did nothing at all for me.

  "I'm working, Aletta. Or haven't you noticed the problems?"

  "Problems?" she asked and then gave a little wave of her perfect fingers. "Oh, The Edge moving. I talked to my mother. She told me it moved all over the world, but everything is stable now."

  She had talked to her mother? I couldn't get through -- but I said nothing. "I meant the riders, Aletta."

  "What riders?" she asked.

  They weren't here. None in sight. Hell. I didn't need this kind of pressure, so I didn't even pursue it with her. She wouldn't be any more help than she had been so far anyway.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked.

  "I thought David might be here, working," she said with a bright predatory smile. "We need to make plans for tonight."

  Somehow I kept my hands from rising and smacking her with a nice good, ugly spell. Maybe a big wart on the end of her nose to make people realized what kind of bitch . . . um, witch she was.

  "As you can tell, he's not here. Nor is his car here." I kept my voice calm. And I felt obligated, I don't know why, to say more. "He's been acting strangely, Aletta."

  "He's a human." She gave a wave of her perfect hand again and dismissed my concerns.

  Fine. I had given her all the warnings I was going to.

  "I have work to do. I'm sure David will turn up at the hotel."

  "
Well you don't have to be rude, you know. Honestly, I don't know how any of your family got to hold so many posts. You're all so bad tempered."

  "You want to take over for me?" I asked.

  She made a little noise of disgust. "Can't even be bothered to do the work? Well I have better things to do."

  She turned and stomped her way across the yard. I watched until she disappeared around the curve of the road. What the hell had brought her here?

  "Don't like her, don't like her!" a pair of ruby-crowned kinglets shouted as they swept into the tree.

  "Well, you're not alone there."

  I went into the house feeling annoyed and bad tempered, which aggravated me more since Aletta had already accused me of such behavior. Even Gaylord took one look at me and decided meticulously examining one of his new toys might be a really good idea right now.

  I did the dishes, by hand and without any magic. I still needed time to recover my powers before I faced the enemy again, but I had to do something to keep busy. Cato came out, lapped at some water in his dish and nibbled the dry food I'd put in the other one. He didn't say anything either. I felt as though we were all waiting for something to happen.

  I found two dust bunnies when I swept. I cuddled the little things for a couple minutes, and then put them in the holding cell. For a moment I thought about following them -- Alice down the hole.

  Since Aletta had talked to her mother I decided to try contacting my father. I settled into the comfortable brown chair and closed my eyes, forcing calm. Cato silently settled in my lap, purring when I petted him. Better. Much better.

  I still couldn't reach home, though. I tried for a few minutes and then gave up, knowing I shouldn't waste any more magic on the attempt.

  I wanted help. I wanted to talk to someone who could give me advice, because this was way over my head. But I could find no one but Aletta, and she was no help at all.

  I sat in the chair and closed my eyes, but the calm didn't return. The night would fall soon, and I had a growing fear sunset would bring far too much trouble for me to handle. Could I do anything about the peripix? Why were they purposely nesting in places where they would do the most damage? Why was someone -- something directing them there?

  Why did they want the city powerless?

  The thought made me shiver. Nothing from the other side would purposely mess with humans like this, not unless they planned to do something big and powerful -- and very much against all the rules, laws and covenants.

  Every time I thought this through a little farther, something worse came along and I felt more inadequate to the job.

  I decided everything needed dusting. Busy work, busy work -- it helped in an odd way.

  I dusted the china cabinet, straightened things by the birds, with both of them quiescent and uncomplaining. I moved on to the bookshelves. Those needed more work since I hadn't really straightened them after the break in. I pulled books and put them in some sort of order, then stacked magazines in their little spot.

  The top was a nature magazine I'd been in. I flipped through the pages to my article and remembering how wonderful and simple everything had seemed. I wished I could go return to writing and not see the gathering of disaster right outside my window.

  Yes, the riders were back. I thought they appeared more solid. Darkness couldn't be more than an hour away and then the other things would hit the streets.

  I started to close the magazine when something caught my eye: An article on the Mojave Desert, with pictures by David Carter. My heart thumped and I flipped the page open, staring at the lovely shots. He had talent. I wanted to work with the man who had taken those pictures and who plainly loved the world around him. I wanted that David back.

  On the last page, at the bottom of the article, I found a picture of David Carter, standing beside a tripod, the camera ready.

  With his age-lined face and slate grey hair. Glasses.

  Not the David Carter I had met.

  Something caught in my throat. I shook my head, thinking someone had mixed up the pictures. No, the writer was not David Carter either. I grabbed a handful of magazines and went to the table. I used magic to find the David Carter articles. Two more had photos of him. One was from an entirely different magazine.

  All of them were of the same, older man. None of them were my David.

  I sat on the chair and stared, fear making a little hollow in my stomach. The man here in town -- the one who had spent time with me, whom I had even kissed -- was not David Carter the photographer. I swallowed the sour taste in my mouth and shivered.

  If he wasn't David Carter, who was he?

  Aletta needed to know. As much as I disliked Aletta, I would not leave her with this imposter without a warning. I tried to reach her by magic, but failed miserably. I thought she might have blocked me out.

  "I have to go." I stood and glanced at Cato, still in the chair. "David isn't -- he's not who he pretends to be, and I have to go warn Aletta."

  "Are you sure?" Cato asked. "You really have to tell her?"

  "Yeah, I do. I don't like her either, but I can't ignore this."

  "I guess that's what makes you better than her," he said with a sigh. He stood and stretched as I headed for my jacket. "I'm coming with you."

  "This could be dangerous --"

  "Well duh." He looked at me with a little frustration this time as the tip of his tail twitched. "In case you haven't noticed, staying here isn't exactly safe, either. Nothing is right now."

  "I'm going in the car."

  "Good. We don't have time for a nice leisurely walk."

  I thought I still ought to argue. I didn't want one of my friends with me in case I ran into trouble. But hell --

  "Come on."

  We left the house. I asked the birds outside to keep an eye on things and find me if there was any trouble here. Then I gave Cato one more chance to remain behind. He climbed into the car ahead of me.

  When I got in he stood and leaned against the dashboard, shaking of his head.

  "The riders seem more -- I don't know --" he said, shaking his head.

  "Solid?" I offered as I started the car.

  "Anxious."

  I had been noting the riders without really looking at them. Now I could see the horses pranced more and the riders sat straighter. Some glanced toward the sun as though to measure the time until sundown.

  Damn.

  I headed down the hill. Cato turned to watch behind. "Yeah, we have a parade following us. Maybe you could lead them out of town?"

  "Worth a try."

  I drove to Highway 34, and near Lake Estes the riders stopped, milled, and turned around. I had the odd feeling I'd been run out of town. I turned around at the first cabin driveway without high drifts and headed back into the city.

  We soon had our tails again. I shrugged at the same time Cato did. I suspect he's picked up far too many of my mannerisms.

  I set out a little bit of magic to find Aletta so I didn't go wandering around all over town. She appeared to be at the hotel. I wanted to peek in on what she was doing, but she'd notice such an intrusion. Instead, I followed the trail.

  The shadows grew longer, the sky starting to darken behind the clouds. I had no idea what I would do when sunset came. Maybe this would shock Aletta into realizing something dangerous was happening, and she would help me.

  Right. And pigs would fly.

  Actually, I could make pigs fly. I couldn't make Aletta do any work.

  I left Cato in the car and jogged across the slush-filled parking lot to the front door of the hotel. Riders galloped through the lot, avoiding cars and leaping bushes. I wondered why they hadn't gone into the buildings. Ah, of course -- though they were creatures of magic, they remained tied to what they could do by the shape they took. Real horses couldn't charge through walls into buildings. While these might leap a bit higher and run farther and faster, that was only an extension of what a horse could do, not a complete change.

  I began to wonder i
f the riders would ever get down.

  Anxious, I headed into the lobby, following a hint of the magic. I had hoped to find Aletta alone. Instead, I spotted the two of them lingering over an early dinner in the hotel restaurant, both apparently quite pleased with life.

  I almost backed away, thinking I could wait for Aletta somewhere else. Unfortunately, David -- Not-David -- spotted me.

  Since they were the only two in the dining room I decided to go ahead and confront them both rather than slinking away. So I walked straight over before either could speak, I leaned both hands on the table and stared the man in the face.

  "Who are you -- and don't lie, because I know you're not David."

  He sat back, plainly startled. "How did you figure it out?" he asked.

  I had secretly hoped for a denial, and an offer proof showing he hadn't lied to me. I hoped I kept the hurt from my face.

  "I found some articles you'd worked on, and the pictures of the real David Carter."

  Shock came to his face, but a moment later I saw amusement. I stepped away from the table, thinking I must be facing some sort of madman: a stalker of some sort, who had assumed David Carter's identity. I worried about what might have happened to the real photographer. The magazine people had said he would be the one to meet me.

  And this man adapted to the kind of persona Aletta would like when he went with her? It made an odd, twisted kind of sense.

  Aletta appeared confused, glancing from her dinner companion to me. This stranger reached over and patted her on the hand. I wanted to slap those fingers aside and snatch her away from whatever danger he represented.

  But she nodded and smiled. I almost thought there might be magic in his work, but I still only felt my own spell repulsing me.

  "Aletta, he's lying about who he is --"

  The realization seemed to amuse her as well. "I guess that makes him a little mysterious."

  "Aletta --"

  "Do go about your business." I could see beyond her usual facade to the hatred this time. "Just go. Don't bother me anymore."