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4. Cats also seldom listen


"Someone must look out for him, you know," Cat said sulkily. "And why wouldn't he be perfectly pleased to do whatever I like?"

Not a week can go by around here, Janet thought. Last week, Humble Cat had been pleading with her to 'please, please do something about that Tonino.' This week, Imperious Cat seemed to be monopolising every moment of the other boy's life, from what she could discern. Cryptic literary allusions now made more sense.

Janet found Cat's sudden change of heart troubling. What she knew of Cat's childhood in Wolvercote convinced her that he'd not grown up with the best of role models. Tonino seemed an agreeable boy, but entirely too meek and obliging. He'd no doubt be flattened under Cat's peremptory version of care. She was reminded a great deal of an absent someone she'd heard so heard much of but never met.

"Why can't he look out for himself?" she asked.

"You weren't there, so you wouldn't know how it was," Cat said with a broad wave to encompass several day's worth of imprisonment. "He doesn't do magic like me. He doesn't even have strong magic."

"No one does magic like you, Cat. You're an enchanter," Janet pointed out, exasperated. But she knew from listening to dinner table discussions that Tonino's natural talent was unique in this world: amplifying and reinforcing the magic of others around him. She had no idea what that might entail, but wondered if it ought to be dismissed as easily as Cat seemed to believe.

"Who's a pig-headed porcupine then. Never mind," she muttered, tossing herself back on the pillows and feeling drained. Her first morning of receiving guests had started out feeling so grand, and she'd been anxious to see Cat again and hear more about his and Tonino's escape. How irritating that it had so quickly descended into an exhausting squabble.

Cat still looked mutinous, but now also faintly ashamed. "Are you feeling all right?" he asked.

"Why how kind of you to inquire," she said pointedly, as it was the first time he had. She wished, not for the first time that week, that her parents had thought to provide for a measles injection in her own world.

"Er, sorry," Cat said, suddenly contrite.

"No, I'm fine, really," Janet relented. "Just tired, is all. Nothing to be sorry for."

"No, there is." He dug his toe into the rug. "I meant, for the row before you were sick. And, er," then it tumbled out in a rush, "well I think perhaps I didn't want you to get sick because you know and maybe that was what made you worse."

"What was that?" She sorted through it all. "Oh."

He continued to glare at the rug, for its sins. "I might have."

"You don't know?"

"Well, no. Not really." His expression shaded into that peculiar combination of sullen and miserable that was Familiar Cat.

Janet sighed. "Don't be an ass," she said. "Millie said that magic has no affect on measles."

But now she would wonder about this as well. Cat was still proving to be painfully slow at learning the theory that might help him sort out the confusion. His inability to understand or control what he could do was a problem, only made worse when he intended to do something. And now Cat intended to look out for Tonino. She wondered if the Castle would survive.

"This reminds me. You had an examination today, I hear," she said.

Cat started. "What?"

"A test. Of your schoolwork." She added smugly, "That labour of which, at present, I am free."

"Well, yes," Cat glowered, kicking his toe into her abused rug.

"So?"

"So what?"

"So how did you do?" she demanded.

"Fine," Cat scowled.

"You never passed?" she said, and winced at her own tone of incredulity. This was not 'ideal sister.' She needed more practice.

"'Course I did," he said, irate. "I got them all. Why is everyone so surprised? I'm not completely stupid you know."

"Just a little stupid."

Cat glared at her. "You've got your night-dress on front to back."

"Witness the triumph of common sense over nonsense," she said grandly, flipping the lacings at him. "But you must admit that this suddenly sterling mark is worthy of note?"

"Maybe," he muttered. "Your hair's a mess as well."

"All the better to frighten you into subservience. Some of us can do that perfectly well without magic, you know."

"It was better when you were sick, you know. More peaceful!"

"How unfortunate for you that I'm getting well."

"It is."

"Ass."

"Witch."

"Not yet, but soon," she promised darkly. "I hope that you're properly afraid." Chrestomanci had said she'd be given Gwendolen's magic, still stored in the Castle safe, as soon as she'd passed her elementary theory levels. Even with that, she was aware that she'd only have an ounce in comparison with the sheer tons of magical firepower that Cat could wield with a flick of a left finger.

Which he knew as well as she did. Which was why he was now cowering in Proper Fear.

She leaned forward and cuffed him. "Stop that. Why not go out on the grounds today? You could show Tonino the tree-house in the horse chestnut."

Cat went red and avoided her eye. "No, we're going to do other things."

"Such as?"

"Other things. We can all go to the tree-house when you, and Roger and Julia, can go out again."

"It may tumble from the tree under our combined weight," she mused. She didn't press the issue. She suspected where Cat intended to go -- because he was Cat, and Cat was nothing if not stubborn.

Well, invalid girls who were tired and rash-ridden and confined to their rooms couldn't be expected to tell tales. She could look forward to more company after the two of them were grounded to the children's wing for the rest of their natural lives.



Janet plumped up her pillow and settled in comfortably. Tonino seemed a gentle Mediterranean breeze after a bracing monsoon of Cat. She entertained herself for a brief instant with offers of international winds-trade.

"He is to introduce me to the stable cats this afternoon, after his lesson with Chresto, er, Sir Christopher," Tonino was saying happily.

"Oh really?" Janet hadn't expected that at all. "Cat's not that fond of them that I'm aware of."

"He is not?" Tonino's face fell. "But I was certain he said that you had a cat."

"Well, yes, I do," Janet said, frowning. This discussion needed to be gently steered elsewhere. "So you're fond of cats, then."

"But of course," Tonino said absently. "Benvenuto would not be pleased if I did not pay my proper respects. The Castle cats here are special."

"Special in what way?" Janet asked guardedly.

"My mother has told me that they are descended from Lady Millie's boss cat Throgmorten, who was an Asheth Temple cat. The Temple cats are renowned for their magical properties," he explained.

"Oh, really." Janet was fascinated. "No one's ever told me that. Where is the Asheth temple?"

"The Temple of Asheth is in a parallel world in our own series," Tonino explained. "The parallel worlds are--"

"Oh, I do know about those," Janet said. "Is that why they've extra toes then? More and more fun facts I've yet to learn," she said ruefully. Then she laughed. "I think your mother must have spent more time in this Castle as a girl than I have."

"But is this not your home?" Tonino said.

"Well, yes, it is now," Janet said. "A rather strange and Edwardian home, but I grow accustomed to its quirks."

When Tonino looked perplexed, she said, "I thought you knew. Cat wasn't always my brother. I'm from one of those other worlds in this series myself."

"Another world?"

At his blank expression, she could see that no one had explained. Once she was well enough to attend services with the Family, Tonino would no doubt wonder why the vicar called her "Gwendolen" and shook his head at her so mournfully.

"A rather different world," she admitted. "A rather long story for another day." She wiggled two fingers over her head, "But look, no antenna! I'm perfectly safe."

To her horror, Tonino became sad and thoughtful and considerate. "But, but that means you must be -- are you alone here?"

"No, no, it's not like that," Janet said hastily. She'd forgotten how sensitive Tonino was. "I'd just meant that I can understand too well how you'd be homesick at times. But truly, I'm happy enough here, measles aside. And Cat needs someone to keep him in line, you know."

At that, like Cat before him, Tonino began to study the carpet intently.

"I know, I know. Cat's been making life a trial," she said.

"Oh, but no," Tonino said, flushing. "He, he's been awfully decent."

Janet studied him narrowly. That did not sound like this morning's Cat at all. Perhaps it meant something different in Italian. "Are you certain you didn't mean 'awfully despotic'?"

"Er, what?"

"Right." She waved a casual hand. "Cat can be clingy and moody as the murk over the moors at times. If you've discovered a means of finessing him, I salute you."

"He's not like that at all," Tonino protested mildly.

"Then only you think so," Janet assured him.

Tonino shifted uncomfortably and examined his hands. Then he suddenly said, "If you do not mind, may I ask? Do you know of anything special about buns or bread?"

"Sorry?" Janet blinked. "Oh, I see, I've kept you. Is it already tea-time?"

"No, no, it is not." He assured her, smiling. "I was thinking of something said to me at home that I do not understand yet."

"I see," she said, not really seeing at all. "Nothing leaps to mind. But speaking of home," she said kindly. "Your Benvenuto sounds rather domineering himself."

"It is only because he knows so many things," Tonino said. "For instance, Benvenuto tells me that cats are fond of the English, so I will like them as well. As always he is correct." He beamed.

It was Janet's turn to blush. Eccentricities aside, Tonino could be oddly charming.

In that moment, Janet had a curious impulse. It was, she thought, probably a terrible idea. In fact, when questioned about it later, she did honestly wonder where the notion had come from.

But as easily as that she came to a decision.

"You also might be interested in meeting the, er, boss cat of Chrestomanci Castle," she told him.