Matt was already feeling the benefit of the gel coating his ankle, and he moaned in quiet relief as the pain gradually diminished. Closing his eyes, he settled down in the chair and breathed deeply….

  …before being rudely brought back to reality as a hard object was dropped in his lap, thankfully not landing anywhere too sensitive. Looking down, he saw his loom.

  “No time for sleeping now Dad, you’ve got some magic to make!” Kira exclaimed excitedly. “And I know just the thing to start off on!”

  She ploughed on, drowning out Matt’s attempts to get a word in. “You know what Mum and Aunty Carry were saying about the fridge and freezer? I had the idea – what if you can make a badge that keeps something cold? That would solve a lot of problems, wouldn’t it?”

  “That sounds li….” Matt valiantly attempted to slay the dragon of chatter. Failing like a knight who had left his magic sword at home and tried to defeat said dragon with a wooden spoon.

  “And I’ve been reading all those things that you told me about, and I think you can do it! I think what you need to do is blend some ice into the threads as you wind them up…”

  “Weave them, you me…”

  “Don’t interrupt Dad. You blend the ice in, and as long as you’re focused enough on what you want it to do, it should work!” She paused for a breath, beaming down at her thoroughly overwhelmed conversational adversary.

  There was a long pause, before Matt turned a deadly serious look on his daughter.

  “How did you get my loom, young lady.”

  A nervous expression crossed Kira’s face and she backed away slightly, wringing her fingers.

  “I… err… may have popped over the road while Aunty Carry was in the loo. Theoretically?” Her next words vomited out in a rush. “But I was perfectly safe, there was nothing there, and we needed your stuff to start making magi…”

  “Not the point Kira!” Matt shouted, fear of what might have been, vying with anger at the risk she had taken. “You haven’t seen what those things…. you don’t know… you can’t…” Matt slumped back in the chair, hyperventilating, the awful possibilities of the terrible fate his daughter would have faced if a rat, or something even worse had been lying in wait.

  Kira lunged forward and flung her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry Dad, I didn’t go alone, I promise!”

  The room had frozen as Matt’s shout rang out, startled. Arlee came forward and wrapped arms around them both.

  “Hush love, breath. Deep breaths. She made a mistake, but nothing came of it, and…” She turned a withering gaze on her daughter. “…she won’t be doing anything that silly again. Will she?” These last words cut through the air like a laser.

  “I promise Mum. I wasn’t alone though; Nala and Oli came with me and were next to me the whole time!”

  “That doesn’t make it better Kira. Cats aren’t robots that will do whatever you tell them. They will wander off if something catches their attention. What if they had…”

  “But they are doing what I ask Mum!” Kira dared to interrupt, tears streaking her cheeks. “I can prove it!”

  She stood up and moved to the centre of the room, clear space around her. She concentrated for a second, then hissed. A sibilant kishh sound, which seemed to hang in the air, as shadows moved and….

  …there were suddenly a pair of large feline shapes, stepping out of the shadows of the furniture and stationing themselves either side of the young girl. They looked up at her with an air of expectation; their normally relaxed expressions focused only on her. Matt recognised Nala and Oli from their respective markings – information that had been indelibly etched into his brain from the first time Kira had met the small bundles of adorability.

  Not so small now, Matt thought to himself, as his mouth and brain struggled to catch up to the fact that his daughter had – in the space of a few hours – turned into the Cat Whisperer! She stood, fingers nervously curling through the silken fur on each cat’s back. Unlike their normal, affection-demanding nudges and nuzzles, the two felines were still as statues, attentive to the young girl who had seemingly spoken to them – commanded them?

  Matt and Arlee looked at each other, having no real response to this development. Seeing no explanation coming from each other, they turned back.

  “How did you do that Kira? How did you know how to do that? Is it a trick? Something you’ve worked on them with?” Arlee’s voice was curious, not accusing.

  “No Mum, I promise!” Kira quickly replied, looking like the archetypal child caught in something they know they shouldn’t do – that they’ve been told not to do – but did anyway, was caught, but now sees a tiny chance for wriggling out of trouble.

  “I was going through my book, looking up all the stuff Dad asked me to find out about.” As she said this, she turned to Matt and pointed toward a pile of several pages of notepaper, covered in her small, tidy script. Turning back to Arlee, she continued.

  “These two kitties were demanding some attention, and I thought how wonderful it would be to actually talk to them. I turned the page, and there was this entry on the Curmar.” She beamed, with the absolute certainty of the young that this single word explained everything.

  She looked around at the blank expressions. “The, err, language of shadow prowlers. Our four guardian beasts.” She scritched the cats’ heads fondly, and they finally relaxed their unnerving focus and yawned in pleasure at her attention.

  “And you know this, how? All from the book?” Carry interjected, silent up to this point, but now swapping her gaze between Kira and her four-legged attendants. “Does it have the lottery numbers as well?”

  The tension that had built into the room relaxed somewhat at this, chuckles circled the room, and Kira’s shoulders lost their defensive posture. She looked down at the cats, and vocalised a hissing Hassara, at which they looked up at her, blinked and then faded back into the shadows around the room.

  Matt scrunched his eyes, rubbed them and looked again. The large, waist-high cats had slowly loped into the shadows behind the sofa – where there was no possible way for even one of them to fit, let alone both. But in defiance of all laws of physics, they were…. gone.

  Kira noted their dumbfounded looks and shrugged. “I guess that’s why they’re called shadow prowlers. Apparently, they can use shadows like we would use a doorway, or a trapdoor, hiding spot… you get the idea.”

  She turned back to Carry. “I haven’t looked for the lottery numbers yet, but anything I concentrate on, the next page I turn, it’s there. Just a bit of information, about a page, not like everything, but most of the things I look up talk about other things which I can also look up. That’s how I found out all the stuff about those things you put on the list, Dad.”

  Matt reached over and picked up the first sheet of paper from the group of loose pages, and started reading.

  “A Locus (plural: loci) is a physical manifestation of significant connection for an individual to a specific location, event, emotion or action. Those with the capability to observe a manifestation may attune to it, creating a bond to the energy residue of the occurrence. This has the effect of optimising mental clarity, strengthening external arcanic expression and imbuing greater transfer of energy during arcanic creation.”

  Mystified at most of what Kira had transcribed for him, he moved onto the next sheet.

  “All physical objects and immaterial expressions are composed of Essence – the fundamental meaning of the entity in question. This Essence is more commonly recognised as one or more characteristics of the entity, which can be a physical trait, an emotive feeling, or an environmental impact. Essence is a primary driver of expression in arcanic creation disciplines.”

  “Well, that’s as clear as mud.” Matt muttered to himself, as he instinctually reached for the next sheet, totally enthralled despite his overwhelming ignorance. She went above and beyond here, Matt thought as he turned the page. And I just yelled at her.

  “Expression is the display or projection of force or energy from the controlling entity in a two-, three- or four-dimensional pattern, manifesting dependent on intent, focus and attuned power.”

  While he read, Arlee and Carry sat down on the sofa, Kira kneeling in front of them.

  “Tell us more about how you talk to them Kira.” Carry asked softly. “Can you understand them as well?”

  “No, but I really only know a few things at the moment.” Kira replied. “The book gave a few common words, but it went into a lot of boring stuff about context, hier-ar-chy and influence. I know ‘kishh’, which means ‘come to me’, and ‘hassara’, which is ‘watch in the shadows’ or ‘look out of the shadows’. That was how I asked them to follow me over to our house.”

  Kira hurried on with her explanation. “I really was very careful Mum, and you know that the cats kept Uncle Al and Aunty Carry safe last night, and we needed Dad’s stuff so he can make more magic badges, and….”

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Arlee held up a hand, forestalling the avalanche of junior justification. “I know you felt safe Kira, but your Dad was right. We have no idea what else might happen until this all gets sorted out – if it ever does. Imagine what would have happened if one of the enormous flying things had been overhead when you went outside? Or if one of the spiders from the back yard was now the size of one of the cats and shoots web like Spiderman?” She shuddered at the thought.

  Carry laid a hand on Arlee’s leg and continued. ”It’s very common for young people to feel safe, when we adults see a lot of risk, because we’ve seen a lot more of the possibilities that exist. But unless this all somehow magically goes away, the lights come back on and things go back to normal, we don’t live in the same world that we did last week.

  Kira had gone dead still as her mother had mentioned the possibility of giant, web-slinging spiders. Now, as the weight of what she was being told was absorbed, she leaned forward and grabbed both their legs, hugging them tight and trying to keep tears at bay.

  They wrapped comforting arms around and held her in comforting unity. Eventually Kira raised her head, wiped her eyes on a sleeve, and sat back up.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I was sure I was okay. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

  “I know you will love.” Arlee said fondly. “I don’t like to scare you, but the truth is, we live in a much scarier world now, and it’s going to take some time to get used to. We have to be extra careful while we learn about it and how to live in it safely.”

  Kira nodded, looking back around at her father.

  “Dad?”

  Matt raised his head from the page of handwritten notes.

  “Hmm, yes?” He noted the serious expressions. “What’s up?”

  There was a pause, as the two ladies looked at each other.

  “Men!” Both exclaimed at the same time, then laughed. Kira stood and moved over to Matt’s chair, leaning over and hugging him.

  “I’m sorry Dad, I promise to be more careful and sensible.”

  “Yeah, right.” Matt smirked, ruffling her hair, before putting on a serious look, taking her face in both his hands. “If anything happened to you, our world really would end Kira. Even the thought of what might have happened is awful. So, for the sake of this old man’s heart, try to think hard about what you’re doing from now on, okay?”

  “Deal Dad, I promise.” She paused, then with an impish grin, reached down and picked up a battered wooden box, filled with rolls of thread, half-finished patches and other paraphernalia of Matt’s hobby.

  “Now get working, your wizardness!”

  At that Arlee stood, exhaustion still plain in her movement. “I think I’ll take you up on that hot water now, thanks Carry.”

  “Of course, Arl, head up to the bedroom and grab some of my things, I’ll bring it up. We can leave these two with their discoveries.” She rose and followed Arlee from the room, heading to the kitchen as Arlee trudged wearily up the stairs. Alan passed her on the way down, running a towel over his head, still shivering slightly from the cold dousing he had endured.

  “Good luck Arl, that wasn’t my favourite wash ever. Certainly did the job in waking me up though!”

  Arlee smiled mysteriously but said nothing on the way up. Alan hobbled into the living room and collapsed down on the sofa, finishing drying his hair.

  “Now, a well-earned rest” He said, reclining and stretching aching legs.

  Matt awkwardly positioned himself in the armchair, leg still elevated in front to take the weight off his injured ankle. With the small loom in place, he reached into the box of supplies and took out a reel of thread. As the first passes forward and back, he spoke to Kira without lifting his gaze.

  “What do you think we should try first?”

  “I saw a cool box on the trailer, did you find some ice?” Kira’s mind was racing as a world of possibilities started firing off. “It’s going to melt soon, so that should probably be the first thing, right? Before it’s gone and we can’t get any more?”

  “We did, good idea.” He looked up, considering his next words. The fear and anger he had felt earlier at Kira’s little excursion had faded, but he didn’t want to negate the lesson his daughter needed to learn from the experience.

  “Kira, were you listening properly earlier, and did you take in all the things we said, about how unwise your trip outside was?”

  “I did Dad, I’m sorry. And I was listening. It’s just that…. it feels strange how different things are now.”

  “Understood, and I agree. It’s going to take some getting used to, but we don’t have the luxury of being able to make excuses anymore, so I… we need to know that you are going to remember, and be safe in everything you do from now on.”

  “I will.” Her eyes were downcast, her voice quiet, half expecting another lecture on the new equivalent of ‘Stranger Danger’.

  “Good. Now, if the cats will stay next to you the whole time, could you start bringing the small stuff in from the trailer please? It’s right by the door, so you don’t need to wander at all, and you must remember to check the sky all around before walking out the door, in case there is anything flying around.”

  She leaped to her feet, excited and surprised at the task. Anticipating being stuck inside for the foreseeable future, she relished both the opportunity to prove that she could be trusted, and being able to get out of the house.

  “I will Dad thanks! Nala! Oli! Kishh!”

  Matt and Alan both jumped slightly as the two large, black forms emerged from shadows which were absolutely too small to hide them, padding to Kira’s side as she left the room and moved to the front door.

  “Al, have a look out the window please. Kira! Wait for a moment and remember to check the sky!”

  Alan levered himself up. “No worries mate, I can sit in the front yard and keep an eye from there.”

  Matt smiled and nodded gratefully, thankful to be experiencing the new world with such reliable, capable and understanding friends.

  “Thanks Al. I don’t want to get all mushy and make you burst into girly tears, but it means a lot – everything you’ve both done for us. We’ll get our stuff sorted out and give you back your space as soon as we can.”

  Alan paused by the doorway, considering Matt’s words. Eventually, he shrugged and spoke.

  “No problem mate. We’ve sorta been thrown together a bit, and loners never make it in the post-apocalypse movies, unless they have crazy powers or a boatload of guns. Better we have each other’s backs and get through this strong. Plus, you’re going to be the world’s new Dumbledore or something, so I’m sure you’ll remember your old mate Al when you’re rich and famous.”

  With a smirk, he turned and held Kira’s shoulder while carefully opening the door. Sweeping his gaze up and down the road, as well as upwards, he moved outside slowly, to the side of the trailer where he reached down and picked his staff up. He waved Kira outside, leaning against the wall as she and the cats joined him.

  The felines sat themselves in the front yards, eyes moving around, focused on any sound, and occasionally turning to look back at Kira, as she grabbed the cool box, straining to lift it enough to clear the trailer walls, before lugging it back inside and setting it down heavily next to Matt.

  “Just the small stuff Kira, don’t try moving anything too heavy.”

  “Got it Dad.” She leaned over and hugged him briefly, taking the opportunity to slip an ice cube down the back of his shirt.

  Her musical peel of laughter rang out as he gasped at the cold and contorted himself trying to get it out. Wincing as his leg shifted, he grimaced and Kira failed to put on a contrite expression.

  “Sorry! I forgot about your hurt leg.” She backed away, before turning and fleeing the room back to the unloading.

  Matt eventually located and evicted the offending ice cube, muttering imprecations to his absent daughter. He turned his attention back to the loom, and the sounds of the house faded away as the threads became his focus.

  Some time later, he became aware of Alan and Kira manoeuvring one of the barrels to try and fit through the door. They were laughing quietly at the futile effort, before giving up and moving around the side of the house.

  Matt looked down and was astounded by the progress he had made. Judging by the fact that Kira was still unloading the trailer, it couldn’t have been more than half an hour that had elapsed, but his progress was much further along than expected. It typically took him a couple of hours to put together just the main shape of a patch of cloth, but either more time had passed, his ability with this skill had taken a leap forward, or – maybe, he thought – this newfound connection they were all discovering with individual objects had accelerated the process.

  Evaluating how much work he had left to do, Matt took a deep breath, opened the cool box and fished around for the biggest lump of ice he could find. Taking it in hand, he hurriedly turned back to the loom and resumed his threading.

  He noticed no difference, only a growing cold and wet feeling as the ice melted fast in his grip, dripping down his fingertips to wet the loom and the thread. Frowning, he paused, trying to remember the sensation he had felt as the rays of sunlight curled around his fingertips and meshed with the threads.

  Dumping the rapidly melting cube back into the cool box, he wiped his hands to dry them and went back to the notes that Kira had prepared for him.

  “The effect of the imbued focus is determined primarily by the components and essence used in its creation, combined with the clarity of the creator’s intent.”

  Matt thought hard, trying to recapture the moment of creation, of the rays of light becoming – not tangible – but somehow in accordance with his….

  Intent!

  He hadn’t been focused on the weaving but observing the beams of light as they shone down through the window.

  Re-energised at this epiphany, he reached into the cool box and withdrew another large ice cube from the growing pool. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated, fingertips guiding the thread as he held the cube in a cage of his fingers and palm. Searching for a mental picture of what he was trying to achieve, Matt settled on a gentle source of light, barely visible waves of blue light pulsing out steadily into the surroundings.

  As he worked, he noted the absence of water droplets, his fingers dry with none of the melt drops from his first attempt. The tips of his fingers felt a chill as they wound the thread. His heartrate increased, excitement building as a faint blue sheen gradually appeared over the woven patch. Focusing hard on the mental construct he had created, his fingers completed the last few movements to place the end of the thread and trim loose ends, before applying a dab of glue to seal the edges.

  Wiping sweating palms, Matt carefully lifted the patch from the loom, feeling once again the completeness that had marked his first effort. He let out a breath he had not realised was being held, then set aside the loom, carefully rose to his feet and gingerly tried putting some weight on his injured leg.

  The pain was still there but muted, no longer the sharp stabbing bolt and distinctly more manageable. Whether a product of the rest, or another example of Carry’s newfound healing power, be breathed a sigh of relief before slowly walking through to the kitchen.

  Laying a hand on the fridge door, he muttered a quick plea to any deities that might be listening and opened the door. Moving quickly, he pushed the patch onto the side of the interior wall of the fridge and closed the door, then hobbled back to the living room and started preparing the next patch.

  Minutes passed in nervous anticipation. Upstairs he could hear Carry and Arlee speaking quietly, while outside Kira and Alan appeared to be arguing about barrels. Finally, he could bear the suspense no longer, so put the loom aside and moved back through to the kitchen, opening the fridge door.

  Inside, a pale blue light - rising and dimming like a digital heartbeat – radiated from the patch where it sat against the wall. Matt could feel the cooling air spill from the fridge, and reaching in could feel the regular waves of cold moving through the interior.

  Quickly retrieving a couple of items, Matt closed the fridge door. A huge grin threatened to take in his ears as he opened the back door and went into the garden, where Kira and Alan were positioning the water barrel on some paving slabs and bricks. Moving over to them, Matt held out a bottle.

  “Nice cold beer, Al, after all your hard work?”

  Alan reached out to take the bottle. “Wouldn’t that be nice mate. Looks like warm ones only from now on. A bloke can’t even look forward to a frosty frothy at the end of….”

  His eyes widened as he gripped the bottle, only now noticing the slight misting on the shiny surface. Saying nothing, he unscrewed the cap and took a long swig, eyes closed reverentially. Savouring the mouthful, he swallowed and slowly opened his eyes, looking back at Matt contentedly.

  “You are the last part of a flat thing running around a mountain, mate. A ledge-end.”

  They savoured the just reward for their efforts in silence, a breeze rustling the treetops the only sound, before Alan broke the spell.

  “Mate, that’s outstanding. What else can you do?”