Cat’s Witches
By Alex Holt
There were minutes to go and Olusola Lowal stood anxiously before her mirror trying to decide how she felt. She’d picked out the fabrics for these robes herself; bold geometric shapes of black and rich indigo, ordered from her Uncle back in Nigeria. The tailor had outdone themselves, and they looked great, but she couldn’t help but feeling a little out of place in these clothes that were more expensive than anything she’d worn in her life. And shortly they’d probably be ruined. She’d take it to a spell-weaver after to get repairs of course, but you could always tell it wasn’t quite the same…
She decided that she didn’t like her make-up and whispered a quick spell, and the pigment shifted into something a bit more imposing. She pulled a couple of faces, but still wasn’t sure about it. She was about to change it once again, when an insistant meowing sound appeared at her ankles as Ndidi appeared.
and rubbed herself against them. The little black cat rubbed herself up against Olusola, before peering with her wide yellow-green eyes. Olusola relaxed a little at the cat’s presence. Looking at the mirror again, perhaps just a little more eyeliner was all it needed? She was as ready as she was ever going to be. Olusola walked out of her room, and off to the College Final of the Baba Yaga Tournament for Witch Duels.
Ndidi purred contentedly and then casually waltzed off in a direction all her own. Meandering through the hidden places that even a witch wouldn’t think to look. To a watching human, the route would have made no sense. Climb a old wooden fence that could have been walked round. Walk across a courtyard, only to turn back at a particular dandelion pushing through the cracks. Tip-toe across the high parapeps, then weave through the stools in the local bar, a hint brimstone in the air hinting at its clientele, a nod at Miss Thraxapoteles in the kitchen, then out the catflap in a door that had been otherwise wedged shut by ivy for decades.
But these were the rites, and they must be observed, though getting a quick scratch behind the ear from Professor Mikkola was an acceptable diversion. Eventually, she arrived at the same at the Arena, just in time to see Olusola enter the front door. She clambered up a honeysuckle clad elm, scurried along the branch, and leapt onto a gargoyle, and then through the window. Ahead of her awaited the true battle of the evening. She slipped through a pair of crates and out into the rafters above the arena. The other cats awaited. Draped across the beams like so much fluffy bunting. All eyes awaiting her arrival. Her opponent was washing herself as she dropped down into the reserved box. The large, fluffy persian cat, whom the humans named Momo eyed her with half interest.
Now for the great secret.
Olusola stepped into the lights. It was only a fairly small arena, but the stands were packed with spectators - some with them with various arcane recording crystals, some with mundane smart phones. She watched as her opponent, Aoi Kikushi, flushed a mortified scarlet, as her father stacked canvases to be painted by a djinn he’d hired. His big beaming grin, full of pride for his daughter. Her own two brothers just had their smartphones out, and thankfully just gave small waves from a bit further back.
She knew all the announcements by heart at this point anyway. She silently mouthed “good luck” to Aoi, and received a warm smile and an equally silent “you too!” in return. They’d trained together so much, but only one of them would get to advance to the next level of the tournament. It was that anxious moment of waiting.. and then the wind bound horn above the arena sounded, and within a single movement, green fire was leaping forth from her staff.
Above them in the rafters, the cats had begun their own test of power. To a human observer, the rules would seem arcane in all senses of the word. Each flick of the tail contained a multitude of nuanced tactics and mystical significances. Momo countered with a slight bristling and a paw placed just so. But Ndidi harboured no doubts about her abilities; that Momo was accomplished would only add to the glory when he was vanquished. A batted ear signalled her own rebuke.
Aoi had nearly got her with that last one; that ebon lance wasn’t a spell she’d had to face before, it had fallen out of fashion, and Aoi had clearly prepared it in secret, hoping on lack of familiarity with it. She’d nearly been right. She’d have to check what the proper counter was later - for now summoning a Jzarvic homunculus to take the hit for her would have to do. A waste of a potent spell, but at least it kept her in the fight. But it did give her a brief opening to fill with her own repost; an irridescant beam. She doubted it’d land a significant hit, but if she was lucky, Aoi might counter it with something that’d make her vulnerable? Aoi shifted her stance left, and shrouded herself with a Coat of Mirrors, scattering the Spectrum Beam into a dazzling display of colours across the arena. Olusola began to form a sigil in the air...
The other cats watched the confrontation with a casual interest. They were not creatures to make complex alliances that the humans might, but perhaps something useful might be gleaned from watching the stand off. A tell in either of the competitors, or some technique they might use later. Though of course, they all acted as if it were merely for their own entertainment.
But the true secret of Witchcraft lay here, unbeknownst to all it’s silly human practitioners. Everyone knows that witches have cats. But while the humans presumed to think that their magic came from themselves, cats know the truth. Magic is a gift that a cat may deign to loan to a mortal. The reasons for doing so are as varied and chaotic as cats themselves, but it always boils down eventually to merely “because they felt like it”. And on such an occasion as this, where witches test their power against one another, the truth is of course testing which cat is greater than the other, and no cat would dream of admitting it’s own inferiority.
Below in the arena Olusola was throwing lightning, forming phantoms into walls and summoning beasts from the ether. Humans were so melodramatic. The true fight was up here between their noble benefactors. It was entering into its final stage: the yowling. Muffled from below by the noise of crowd, each escalated it further, with arched backs and bared fangs. Momo was an adequate opponent, but Ndidi could sense the crux moment arriving as their cries reached a crescendo… and there it was…. Ndidi leapt forward, breaking the tension and Momo’s nerves shattered, and the bigger cat bolted in a streak of white fur. Ndidi had claimed her victory. As if there were any question!
Both witches were near the end of their endurances - both had expended some potent spells that would have been more than enough to cinch victory in previous rounds, only to have them blocked or deflected. It was coming down to who would faulter first… and there it was! Even as she readied her own Herrera’s disc, she spotted Aoi had misread the gestures, and was preparing the wrong counter. Then it was over; the disc shattering the wall of iron that Aoi had hastily erected, and knocked her opponent over and outside the lines painted on the floor. The klaxon sounded even as Olusola dashed over to help Aoi up. Around them, the arena erupted in cheers.
Odd creatures humans, Ndidi mused later in the evening. She of course would never be caught doing such a thing for a vanquished foe. They deserved to sympathy. It was a good thing that she was the sensible one in this partnership. Humans clearly couldn’t do anything for themselves and were lucky to have such power given to them or they would achieve nothing, she pondered as Olusola got her evening food out the tin and then came over to give her a scratch behind the ears.