While Darwin's salivating gaze eagerly drank in the sight of this new and rare magic being displayed before him, watching every move as it was made, like he was seated in a surgeons observatory watching the doctors remove a failed organ or tumor. But without the stench of an open wound, He felt positively giddy for the first time in a while, his mind racing to index which of the inconsistent and ignoble lost arts he might be witnessing. Had these hags found the secrets of an ancient master? or had they rediscovered it by themselves in some dark researchers pact between them, or stolen it from a master magician that was far too careless with his research notes? What was this art capable of, could it be lethal, what was it's acting medium? if the old witch was using it to cure the hags mind of something, could it also be used to twist the minds of others instead?

  He had to know, he needed to know, that power was rightfully his, it would give everything he wanted to him, revenge, respect, Command over nations and armies. He'd be able to read the Forbidden records with impunity, tell the old fogies' on the Council to get stuffed, or better yet just kill them all. The world looked like it had finally recognized his efforts, Rota Fortuna smiled on him as it always should have, the blind wench's wheel finally turning in his favor. With these powers learned and soon to be mastered, he'd soon find a way to do all the things he wanted and craved. His eyes gleamed as he drank in the scene, ambitious fires flickering in his mind as his stormy mind conjured ideas to fill his skull. The multitude of notions and concepts dancing around like a wild pagan rite in the summer nights as he desires burned ever higher and hotter. Once more blotting out the light of good reason with the smoke of his ignorant revelries.

  He was so caught up in his day dreaming, he hadn't noticed the woman in black had finished her work for the moment and stood up to leave, her elderly patient slumped in her hair snoring peacefully. The entirety of the operation having past Darwin by as he'd been quietly preening himself to steal and absorb all their knowledge, his want for boasting and wild speculation snapping tight like a hunters snare, pulling his ambitions of dominance from the fires of victory into the jaws of defeat, and to add insult to injury, as he leapt towards the table to better inspect the old sleeping woman, a sound in his ear like a smashing glass and then a stroke of incredible pain.

  The sensation caught him as he was about to leap from his perch on the counter top, and the sudden impetus of the sharp agony forced him off course and into a higher trajectory, one whose uncontrolled destination was that of the ceiling or as close to it as possible. The shocked and mournful wail that left his body reached an inhuman keen as he sped away from the earth with boundless terrified energy. A burning phantom mark between his ears threatened to split his skull open before he made impact. The pain was incredible, and the ceiling was just about to arrive. He slammed against the wood and plaster, crumpling his whole body from the blow, then limply started his journey back down. Like Bellerophon falling from Pegasus, denied entry into Olympus. Bah, tawny gods, who needs them.

  His mind tried to command his body while his instincts twisted and curled to absorb the impact of the fall, the contradictory commands resulting in a harder fall than would be expected of a cat his age and size. The Floor, like the ceiling, gave no opinion in the matter, as it was merely cheap scrap wood that had been put to use finishing the house to meet city demand. Darwin smashed into it face first and bore the brunt of the impact on his nose and front left paw, the rest of him landing in a heap somewhere on top of or behind him. the splattered pile of black fur and yowling bones drew some attention as the slumbering woman at the table was roused for a moment, smiled with her yellow teeth and drunkenly picked him up while he was still shaking the dazed pain from his body.

  "Come 'er to momma, my pretty kitty, come to me now... You silly kitty." she crooned, pulling him off the floor and into her arms, coddling him as a naughty toddler. Darwin, while still in a blinding pain and confusion still took up the cause of rebellion against this display of affection towards his person and thrashed wildly. Though it didn't do him any good. she had him on his back and he couldn't roll over, the screeching and lashing out with claws drew some attention, but not the freedom he craved. As the duel between idle affection and undignified wrath played out in the Kitchen, two on lookers starred in confused amazement.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Valentina had only turned her back for a moment, when she'd heard a noise, rushing back into the kitchen to find Fran awake and playing like a child with some screeching animal in her arms. A dull plodding pain began to pound at her temples as a she shook the exhaustion from her eyes and body. Dorothy stumbled in from outside, having displaced the other cats and vagrants from the house so they could work in peace and without distraction. She brushed past Valentina and reached to grab the squalling black thing in Francesca's arms only to jerk back suddenly. "Agh! God's Bones!" she cried. Valentina, imperious as ever gave her a wuthering stare, Dorothy flinched, stepping back to suck her bleeding fingers as she cursed more subtly under her breath.

  "Lost your touch?" Valentina asked with dispassionate teasing, Dorothy glared at her with comical ire. Her annoyance clear as open skies, but the effect was diminished by the two fingers stuck in her mouth. If she had anything to say, it was garbled by the fat fingers in her mouth.

  "Take your hand out of your mouth, you're not a child." Valentina chided her, Dorothy removed the damaged digits with a scowl.

  "blasted creature actually bit me! The cheek of the hairball! Why I oughta-" as she was warming up to an indignant wailing, Valentina simply groaned "Dorothy, please, my vitae is weak and I have a splitting headache, the house is a mess and we still have much work to do. So if you wouldn't be so loud or rude or any of your obnoxious habits, kindly shut your trollop mouth!" Valentina spat, fighting to keep her tones even, she limped to a chair and slumped into it. Dorothy, quite for a moment, dark and brooding expression on her face.

  "God, I must be tired, speaking such filth aloud" Valentina groaned, hands over her face. Francesca, oblivious to the both of them continuing to play with her hissing ball of piss and vinegar in her lap. Dorothy reached down again to pry it loose from Fran's lap, when a curious scent, or the feeling of a scent, passed over her skin. It was sharp and fiery and held all the warmth of hot coal but without any of the hospitality, like someone had just thrown a load of pepper flakes into her face.

  It was like a slap to to her senses, but by the time she'd realized what it was, Dorothy had pried it loose and thrown the creature outside where it continued to screech and caterwaul. The door barely thick enough to muffle it's atrocious noise, Dorothy still muttering foul resentments under her breath as she walked, kicking random piles of filthy and scrap clothing aside.

  "did you feel anything just now?" Valentine asked, Dorothy looked around puzzled "What, like a funny sound or something? might be a draft in here somewhere perhaps." Valentine shook her head "No, not that, like... A blast of heat all of a sudden, like an opened oven." Dorothy thought for a moment and shook her head "Nah, nothing like that, are you sure your alright Val? you don't look so good."

  Valentina sighed, tired and in discomfort, trying to maintain the hard exterior of a lady in control of herself. "I don't know Dorothy, I really don't know, But I swear for a minute there, I felt, I don't know... a bit of vitae, oh what do they call it here, Pneuma?"

  Dorothy shrugged "Magic is magic, and you've spent a lot of it today missy, whenever that happens, you get all prissy and say stupid things."

  "I do not!

  "Yes you do, you called me a trollop just a minute ago"

  "I didn't mean it, you swore, that's evil!"

  "You hurt my feelings, that evil too."

  "Is not!"

  "Is too, you spinstress hag"

  "You goat faced idiot!"

  "stupid nanny"

  "Child!"

  "Bitter old-"

  "Both of you please shut up!" came an interrupting cry from Fran "At least let me die in piece you jabber jackdaws, my head feels like a stone." She complained, having been roused from whatever fragmented trance had gripped her, pressing her hands to her face, trying to chase away the last of the shadows clinging to her mind as the lucidity of thought broke through. "Francesca, you're awake, I-"

  "I'm fine Valentina, I'm just very faint at the moment, like waking up in a bad way. I'm so very tired." She tired to stand and stumbled, Dorothy caught her as Valentina was still trying to get up. "Oh, Dorothy, thank you..." Fran muttered "Help me to my bed will you? I seem to be ill."

  As Dorothy helped Fran to her bed in the private room, Valentina was left with her migraine and her thoughts. There was something nagging at the back of her mind, something that felt wrong ad concerning, but she was far to put out to think very hard at the moment.