Cat by the tail

Jericho frowned up at the illuminated second story window of the small Victorian nestled among its neighbors in the affluent Castro Valley of San Francisco. It was a cold night and even with a decent weight wool coat and thick scarf the air was biting. Jericho missed the desert sometimes, the smell of it, the rich gold and red colors, and the way the sun beat down with its radiant hot face. There were, of course, lots of things he didn’t miss about those long ago days and San Francisco had her own charms even if the weather was not one of them.

He sighed and adjusted his garments before climbing up the magnolia tree to tap on the windowpane. Thirteen years old and the girl was already turning into a handful. And really he was getting too goddamn old for this sort of thing anyway. What he wouldn’t give to be at home right now, a glass of whisky warming in his palm and his favorite cashmere blanket across his lap.

The window flew open so fast it almost smacked Jericho in the head, most probably sending him tumbling to the ground. He pulled back scowling but his displeasure seemed not to register.

“Oh God Jerry,” Vesper yelped, her face just inches from his. Her long dark hair was in braids that were woven with bits of colored fabric and charms swinging wildly around her shoulders. And Gods above if those black-brown eyes with their thick curtain of lashes were not the spitting image of her mother. Trouble through and through. “It was, like, the worst thing ever! What took you so long? Oh crap. Don’t be mad at me.”

“Be calm child and lower your voice.” He gestured her aside and stepped delicately across the windowsill and into the girl’s bedroom. It was the typical space of any young teen, the walls covered in posters and photographs of friends, the large pink bed covered in disarray of stuffed animals. But Vesper wasn’t typical—not by any stretch of the imagination. She was already showing promise as a powerful witch, coming into her linage with startling ease. Her feet were bare and curling in the carpeting, each toe painted a different color.

“What ever is the matter now?” Jericho asked. “This couldn’t wait until your Tuesday lesson?” Vesper bit her lip hesitating. Jericho’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed his student’s guilty expression. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Out with it,” he demanded, voice a low rumble. “What did you do now?” 

“I didn’t…well I didn’t mean to anyway…”

“Vesper!”

She flinched. “Oh all right. I wanted a familiar. You know like a bird or a little black cat or something like that, to you know, help with spells and stuff.” Jericho’s heart sank. He had his own reasons for disliking such practices but he could hardly expect Vesper to know them. He hated the idea of any sentient creature being enslaved to another.

“Vesper that is far too complicated a spell for someone at your age and experience…besides…”

She cut him off, face turning red with embarrassment. “Oh well I know that now because it wasn’t an animal I conjured…it was a man! A fricken’ naked guy! In my room! It was horrible.”

“What! You summoned a spirit powerful enough to take human form?” Jericho’s voice was tight with anger making Vesper’s eyes widen. “Was it a demon?”

“I don’t know! How would I know something like that?” She stuttered in alarm. “I just…”

He hissed low between his teeth. “Keep your voice down. If your mother comes up here because of your shouting we are going to have a hell of a time explaining what I’m doing in your room and this time of night. I agreed to take you on as a student because of a promise, but this continues only if you show a little digression.”

 “Jericho, I’m sorry…”

“Not as sorry as you are going to be my lady.” Vesper flinched again. Somehow Jericho always found the most unpleasant chores to do as punishments. She had a feeling this was going to be the worst one yet. “Did you bind him to you?”

She shook her head, eyes beginning to fill with tears. “No. I freaked out. He took, like a pair of my pajama bottoms and some pink slippers and took off. Mom and Dad were still out so they didn’t hear. But then I had to wait for them to go to bed to call you…”

Jericho swore under his breath. That meant the thing, whatever the hell it was, had been unbound and loose in the city for hours. This night just got better and better.

“Stay here,” he ordered, turning and climbing back through the window. “And in case it isn’t obvious, you are expressly forbidden to use magic until my say so.”

“Yes, Jericho,” she said, voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident I swear.”

He paused on the tree limb and studied her for a moment before nodding. There was no doubt she had her families dark beauty and she was shaping up rather quickly to have more than her fair share of their talent, now he had only to sincerely hope she did not have also their share of heartache.

“Indeed. Most tragedies are, child. Stay here. We will talk later.”

###

“Hey now, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Jericho sighed in exasperation and dropped to one knee in the alleyway, peering at the little black cat huddled under the dumpster. He winced, the thin silk trousers he was wearing doing very little to pad him against the rough ground. “Come here. I mean you no harm spirit.”

Bright yellow eyes watched him intently but made no effort to respond to his plea. Jericho sighed. He had been searching for the creature for weeks, stumbling through an infuriating number of near misses and close calls.  Now that he finally had it cornered he wasn’t going home without it in his possession. “I know you’re frightened but I’m not going to hurt you.” Still nothing but that unblinking gaze. He squinted trying to confirm what he was dealing with.

Spirits came in many forms. Some were benevolent or at least useful in the right hands, but others spread petulance and mayhem, feed on the weak and created suffering wherever they went. He preferred to give all things their freedom but he would have to consider the greater good in this case. With a sigh of the truly weary Jericho began to whisper a potent spell but stopped short and swore as something darted forward in the darkness, knocking him from a knelling position onto his back, pressing hard on top of him until it was a struggle to draw breath. It was heaver than any man, grinding him into the rough ground of the ally. It gathered on top of him like smoke, a condensing black thing with glowing yellow eyes.

Shit, shit, shit. This was far, far more serious than he had hoped it would be. Jericho choked on his own magic, on the cold fingers that pressed into his mouth and against his tongue, stilling his spell by force. The creature made a sharp guttural hissing noise, teeth flashing white in the dim streetlights.

“Stop. No mean magic, mage.” The voice was rough and unused but still boyish sounding. It was harder to be brutal to something that came in the form of a child, but sometimes it could not be helped. Sometimes there was no choice. Jericho bit down hard on the fingers that were cramming their way into his mouth, his hands reaching up to squeeze around a pale throat.

The thing snarled and kicked, tearing into the delicate skin of Jericho’s wrists with claw-like nails. It hurt plenty but it gave him enough time to get his mouth free and shout an incantation, gathering his power into a tight ball of energy. It was sloppy work, humiliating really.

“Yield, damnable spirit,” Jericho bellowed. An elbow hit him across the face hard. He tried to sit up, push against the dark crushing feeling with his own power. They rolled, crashing into broken glass and garbage. Jericho swung his legs so that the thing was thrown from him at an angle, its head colliding with a dumpster making a sickening thudding sound.

“No, no no,” it whined, trying to crawl away on hands and knees, dazed. The spirit boy was nude, dirty and pale with black matted hair that hung in his face. Jericho stood up and grabbed a handful of the inky tangled mess and pulled hard, sinking his magic deep so the creature could not escape. He was sweating, his clothes torn and lip bloody.

“What is your name?”

“No, no, no. Not nice.” The words came out in pitiful sobs. “Please. Let go…”

“You’ve caused enough trouble. Now give me a name. Believe me I have no intention of binding you with it.” A name is a powerful thing, especially to a creature whose physical form is temporary. He yanked hard on the hair, pulling the boy to his knees and making him cry out. His eyes were like twin candles, sad and flickering as they looked up at Jericho. He was no child but a young man, just small, almost on the scrawny side.

“Who are you?” he asked, a little more gently. “What name called you from your homeland?” 

“I don’t know.What does it matter? My witch didn’t want me. I came for her, but she didn’t…”

Jericho shivered to his bones. “Come on. Come on. Let’s at least find you some clothes to have this conversation.”