Paw Power Page 2

  “Easy,” said a calm voice. “You’ll wake the whole house, carrying on like that.”

  Maddy gasped. Sitting beside her ballerina lamp was the grey cat from her new set. He blinked at her and gave a friendly purr.

  “Better now?” he enquired politely.

  He was completely and unquestionably alive . . . and only five centimetres tall. Maddy gaped at him, unable to move.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Cat got your tongue?” He chuckled at his own joke.

  “You – you’re real,” whispered Maddy. She pinched herself under the bedclothes, and winced.

  The cat looked affronted. “Naturally I’m real. Why shouldn’t I be?”

  There were so many answers to this that Maddy didn’t know where to begin. Her gaze flew to the other cats. They still sat on the desk where she’d left them.

  The grey cat gave a long stretch, pulling his body to its full length. “Ah, that’s better!” he purred. “One does get a bit stiff, sitting in the same position for so long.”

  Suddenly he leaped onto the bed, landing beside the mound that was Maddy’s leg. The pink and white duvet plumped up around him, and he scrambled onto her knee. “May I?” he asked, nodding at her hand.

  Hardly daring to breathe, Maddy held out her hand. The cat stepped delicately onto it, settling himself in the centre of her palm. She could feel the warm aliveness of him, the small but definite weight.

  Carefully she raised her hand until the cat was almost at eye-level. Oh, he was beautiful! A miniature, perfect cat with golden eyes, and the most strokable-looking fur she had ever seen.

  “Do you have a name?” she asked softly.

  The cat twitched his tail, looking amused. “Of course I have a name. It’s Greykin.”

  “Greykin,” murmured Maddy, enchanted. She longed to run a finger across his gleaming bluish-grey fur, but was too shy to ask. Remembering her manners, she sat up straighter. “I’m pleased to meet you, Greykin. I’m—”

  “I already know who you are,” interrupted Greykin gently. “You greeted us earlier, Maddy Lloyd. That’s what brought me to life.”

  Maddy’s mouth dropped open. So the woman hadn’t been mad after all!

  Greykin looked at her desk. “Would you take me back to my compatriots for a moment?”

  Maddy blinked, and then realized he meant the other cats. She slithered out of bed, holding Greykin as steadily as she could. Carrying him to her desk, she laid her hand flat, and he stepped off her palm as neatly as getting out of a lift.

  Sliding onto her desk chair, Maddy watched, wide-eyed, as Greykin padded first to the black cat and then the tabby, solemnly touching noses with both. She half expected the other two to burst into life as well, but their painted features remained cold and silent.

  Coming back towards Maddy, Greykin sat beside her pencil case. They were just the same height. “Would you mind putting them together?” he asked. “It makes their job easier.”

  “What job?” asked Maddy softly. With a tiny clink, she arranged the two cats so that they were entwined once more.

  “That’s better,” said Greykin. “The job of keeping me alive, of course.” He smiled at her bewildered expression. “Shall I explain?”

  “Yes, please,” said Maddy. “Only – only first . . .” She hesitated, biting her lip.

  “What is it?” asked Greykin.

  “Oh, could I stroke you?” Maddy burst out in a whisper. “I’ve just been dying to – your fur looks so soft!”

  Greykin’s furry face beamed. “Of course you may,” he said. “It is rather soft, if I say so myself.”

  Holding her breath, Maddy slowly ran her index finger down his back. It was even softer than she’d imagined, like stroking rich velvet!

  A low rumbling filled the air as Greykin purred. “You may do that again, if you like,” he said dreamily. “Perhaps with a bit of fingernail this time?”

  Maddy scratched his back – tentatively at first, and then harder as the grey cat hummed with pleasure, butting his head against her hand. She could feel the tiny tickle of his whiskers, and giggled.

  At last Greykin sat back on his haunches with a contented sigh. “Very nice; thank you. It’s been a good fifty years or so since I was last scratched.”

  Maddy gaped at him. “Fifty years?”

  Greykin nodded. “Yes. We don’t bond easily, or often. It has to be the right sort of human who greets us before we can wake – though we do sometimes help things along with a bit of a hint.” His grey tail coiled into an L.

  “My initials!” breathed Maddy. “You really were meant for me.”

  “Indeed.” Greykin smiled. Flicking his ears towards the other two cats, he added, “You see, they’re working very hard right now – providing the ka that I need. It helps if they’re touching each other.”

  “What’s ka?” asked Maddy eagerly.

  The cat cocked his round face to one side as he considered. “Life force. Energy. Magic. It’s what makes us able to come to life.”

  Maddy looked again at the black cat and the tabby.

  “Yes, they can come awake as well,” said Greykin, answering her unspoken question. “But only one of us at a time can ever do so. It takes a lot of ka from the other two, you see.”

  “What are their names?” asked Maddy. She started to touch the tabby’s head, and then drew her finger away. It seemed disrespectful somehow, now that she knew these two could come alive too.

  Greykin settled down beside the pencil case, tucking his paws under his chunky body. “Their names are their own to tell – you’ll meet them sometime in the future, when it’s their turn. But for now, it’s I who have been chosen for the task ahead.”

  “Task?” echoed Maddy. The cat’s golden eyes gazed at her, unblinking. Her pulse quickened. “What do you mean?”

  Greykin leaped to where Maddy’s hand lay on the desk and curled his tail around her little finger. “It’s very simple,” he said. “We’ve a job to do together, you and I.”

  Chapter Three

  WHEN MADDY WOKE up the next morning she lay in bed for a moment, trying to remember the wonderful dream she’d had. There had been something soft . . . a pair of golden eyes . . . and magic, the most amazing magic!

  It came back in a rush. Maddy scrambled out of bed and darted over to her desk. The three ceramic cats sat clustered together, stiff and smooth. The grey one’s painted eyes stared blankly at her.

  “Oh,” murmured Maddy. She dropped onto her chair. A dream. It had only been a dream.

  Hot tears clutched her throat. Slowly she disentangled Greykin and held him on her palm. It had been babyish to believe in magic, even for a moment, but – but this had seemed so real! He had sat on her hand, he had talked! He—

  She froze as a ripple ran across the grey cat’s surface. Painted ceramic melted away into warm, living fur.

  The cat sat up, blinking pleasantly. “Good morning,” he said.

  “Arghh!” shrieked Maddy. She jerked her hand back, and then shrieked again as Greykin clung to hold on, digging his claws into her palm.

  “Careful, I’ll fall off!” he yowled.

  “Maddy?” called Maddy’s mother. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine!” gasped Maddy over her shoulder. “Let go, that hurts!” she hissed at Greykin. Tiny red dots welled up on her palm as the cat retracted his claws, watching her warily.

  “You all right!” he huffed. “What about me, I’d like to know?” He leaped onto the desk and turned his tiny back on her, lashing his tail.

  Maddy’s heart thudded. He was alive! He really was!

  Maddy’s mum poked her head in. “What was that shouting about?”

  “I . . .” Maddy glanced wildly at Greykin. He was ceramic once more, frozen safely in place. “I thought I saw . . . a moth.”

  Her mother rolled her eyes. “You and your moths. Come on, it’s almost time for breakfast.”

  The door shut again. Maddy waited for her mum’s footsteps to fade
away, and then lunged across the desk. “It’s all right, she’s gone,” she whispered urgently. “Please, change back!”

  Slowly Greykin’s soft fur returned. He peered coldly over his shoulder. “Well? Are you going to screech in horror and try to fling me across the room again?”

  Maddy winced. “I’m sorry. It’s just – I thought last night was a dream. I couldn’t believe it when you were really real!”

  “Mmm,” sniffed Greykin. “Yes, you registered your surprise quite effectively.” But he seemed a bit less cross, and turned to face her. “Did I hear someone mention breakfast?”

  Maddy straightened. “Oh! Are you hungry? I mean – do you eat?”

  “I don’t have to, but it’s a very pleasant pastime,” said Greykin. “I particularly enjoy a nice bit of bacon.” He looked at her pointedly.

  “I’ll go and get you some right now!” said Maddy. Quickly she pulled on a pair of jeans and a bright red sweatshirt with pockets. She felt like singing. Greykin was real, he really was!

  “You’ll go?” Greykin shook his furry head. “I’ll go with you, you mean.”

  Maddy was crawling about on the floor, looking for her stripy socks. She glanced up in alarm. “But you can’t go downstairs; they’d see you!” She knew without question that this would be simply awful. Her parents were very nice people, but they would never understand about a magical cat only five centimetres tall.

  Greykin’s expression was suddenly serious. He leaped up onto her stapler and flicked his tail at her. “Don’t you remember what we talked about last night? I must see the rest of the house; it’s very important.”

  Maddy’s sock dangled from her hand as she stared at him. In the excitement of realizing that Greykin was real, she had forgotten what he’d said the night before. Suddenly it all flew back to her.

  According to Greykin, he and the other cats only came to life when there was a problem that needed solving. Their duty was to fix whatever was wrong – and they needed her help to do it. But first they had to find out what the problem was.

  Last night this had seemed exciting and magical. Now, in the cold light of day, Maddy felt a twist of worry in her stomach.

  “Er . . . what sort of problem do you think it might be?” she asked nervously, pulling on her sock. “It won’t be anything dangerous, will it?”

  Greykin shrugged. “Sometimes there’s danger. And sometimes it’s only a small problem, though very important to the person involved. Other times, of course, it’s not a person at all.”

  “What then?” Maddy frowned.

  “Oh, all sorts of things.” Greykin’s broad, furry face squinted in remembrance. “Once, in India, we had to save an ancient tree from a colony of termites. Millions of them – fat white things over two centimetres long.”

  “Urgh!” Maddy drew back in disgust.

  Greykin chuckled, and hopped down onto her desk. “I don’t imagine we’ll have that problem here,” he said kindly. “But I need to feel the rest of the house before I’ll know anything – and that’s why I must go downstairs with you. One of your pockets will do nicely,” he added, looking at her sweatshirt.

  “My . . .” Maddy glanced down, and grinned. Oh, of course! She could take him downstairs after all. Smiling widely, she went over to the desk and held out her hand. Greykin stepped onto her palm again, and she tucked the little cat into her pocket.

  “Are you OK?” she asked, peering in.

  “Very comfortable,” replied Greykin, curling into a warm grey ball.

  Maddy couldn’t resist giving his fur a quick stroke, and he touched his nose to her finger in a friendly way. A sudden giggle escaped her at the thought of eating breakfast with Greykin in her pocket – and the rest of her family not having a clue!

  “Maddy, this is a serious matter, you know,” chided Greykin’s muffled voice from the depths of her sweatshirt. “And please don’t forget the bacon.”

  At breakfast, Maddy cut off small pieces of bacon and smuggled them down to Greykin, trying not to laugh as she felt the little cat moving about.

  Her father winked at her from across the table. “You’ve got ants in your pants this morning, haven’t you?”

  “Ants in her knickers!” said Jack, sniggering into his orange juice.

  Maddy bit the inside of her lip to keep from bursting into wild laughter. “No – not ants,” she choked out. But she tried to settle down after that, in case her family got suspicious.

  After breakfast Maddy wandered about the house so that Greykin could “feel” every room. He’d been very firm about the need for this. Worry began knotting Maddy’s stomach again as she circled upstairs and down.

  What if the problem was something awful? Was her family in some sort of trouble? Everyone seemed all right – Jack was playing with his hamsters, and her dad was in his study working on his book – but how could she tell?

  “Maddy, go and watch a dvd or something!” exclaimed her mother finally, looking up from the computer. “You’re making me nervous, pacing about like that.”

  “Sorry,” muttered Maddy. Returning to her room, she closed the door and placed Greykin on her chest of drawers. “Did you find it?” she asked anxiously, keeping her voice low in case Jack was listening. He was a terrible snoop.

  “It’s not here,” announced Greykin. He prowled across the white painted top of her chest of drawers, examining each item with interest.

  “Are you sure? How do you know?”

  “Simple.” He stopped to sniff at a plastic bangle that was larger than he was. “When I find what needs to be done, my whiskers tingle. My whiskers haven’t tingled once in your house. So I deduce, it’s somewhere else.”

  Phew! Maddy’s shoulders slumped with relief.

  Greykin reached her ballerina jewellery box and stood on his hind legs, peering in and swishing his tail. Oh, he was just the most perfect little cat! Maddy hugged herself, still hardly able to believe that this was real.

  All at once Greykin leaped into the box. “This will do nicely, once you clear away all the clutter.”

  Maddy blinked. “Nicely for what?”

  He peered up at her with his golden eyes. “A bed for me, of course. It needs to be someplace hidden, or else I have to turn back to ceramic at night.”

  Charmed by the idea, Maddy scooped out a string of plastic beads and a small locket, placing them on her chest of drawers. Then she frowned. “But, Greykin . . . if the problem’s not here, then where is it?”

  “All I know is that it will be someplace connected with you. Where else do you go?” Greykin nosed at a hair-scrunchy. “That can stay; it looks rather comfortable.”

  Maddy found a few more scrunchies and made him a cosy nest as she thought. “Well . . . school, mostly,” she said. “And ballet class twice a week. And we go swimming at the sports centre sometimes,” she added.

  Greykin shuddered. “Water? No thank you! We’ll start with school.”

  Maddy’s hand froze. “But—”

  A hundred thoughts crashed together in her mind. She could show Greykin to Rachel! Her best friend would be utterly gobsmacked. But what if Mrs Pratt, Maddy’s teacher, saw him? Or Sherry Newton?

  “What’s wrong?” asked Greykin. He leaped onto her wrist and bounded nimbly up to her shoulder, barely larger than a mouse. His soft fur tickled Maddy’s neck as he nuzzled her.

  “Um . . . nothing.” Maddy tried to smile. She couldn’t let Greykin know what a coward she was; it was too embarrassing. “OK, you can come to school with me – but we’ll have to make very sure you keep out of sight!”

  Chapter Four

  WHEN MADDY GOT to school on Monday morning, her best friend Rachel came racing across the playground, all long legs and flying blonde hair.

  “Did you ask your mum about the kitten?” she asked breathlessly, straightening her glasses.

  Maddy blinked. She’d forgotten all about the kitten! “Yes, but she said no,” she said. “But, Rachel, listen, you’ll never believe it – the most
incredible thing has happened!” She drew her friend over to the swings, and plunged into her story.

  “Very funny,” grinned Rachel. She twirled round on the swing. “You should write that down in a story.”

  “But I’m not joking,” said Maddy in surprise. It hadn’t occurred to her that her friend wouldn’t believe her.

  Rachel raised her eyebrows sceptically. “Maddy, it’s a bit early for April Fool’s Day. It’s only October!”

  Maddy glanced around. Sherry Newton and her gang were safely across the yard, clustered around a DS. “You cheated!” Maddy heard Sherry shout angrily, shoving one of her friends. “I should have won that one!”

  “I brought him with me,” said Maddy in a low voice.

  Rachel’s blue eyes widened. She scuffed at the ground to stop her swinging. “What – really?”

  “Really. But Rachel, you can’t tell anyone.” Maddy hopped off the swing and picked up her school bag. She stared solemnly into Rachel’s eyes. “OK? It’s very, very important.”

  Rachel slid off her swing too, frowning in confusion. “Well – of course I won’t – but Maddy, it’s not real, is it? I mean, it can’t be!”

  Maddy unzipped her bag and took out her flowered pencil case. Greykin had been a bit huffy at the idea of travelling in the case, and had only agreed once she’d made him a little bed inside, with scraps of bacon in case he got hungry.

  “Are you ready?” she whispered.

  “Er – I suppose.” Rachel’s eyes were bulging. She edged closer to Maddy, staring down at the case as if a snake might slither out of it.