Of Mice & Magic: Book 1 Ravenspell

Chapter 11: The Dark Mage (part 1)

There's a little monster in everyone.

—Nightwing

Amber raced through the pet shop, chasing kittens, swallowing them whole, and shooting them out. Her thoughts swam in a red river of rage. She kept remembering how the Abyssinian had enjoyed tormenting her. She recalled the little song that Domino had sung about nibbling the heads off of mice, and she understood something that she'd never imagined. For a cat, killing was play.

How many mice had died beneath cats' paws? How old was time? How wide was the world? And in that ageless, vast world, how many mice had died in torment?

"Stop it," Amber shouted through a red haze of rage. "Stop killing us. Stop it now!"

Everything became a blur. Amber chased evil kittens through the pet shop, past aisles brimming with puppy chew toys, around a koi pond where fountains burbled and enormous fish swam lazily beneath the lily pads, and over the tops of lizard cages where iguanas and bearded dragons lazed beneath artificial suns.

In her haste to grab one white kitten, she ripped open a huge bag of fish food. Dried flies and brine shrimp whooshed through her belly and shot out her tail, then sat glittering in the air. A Siamese kitten tried to climb over a bird cage and knocked it to the floor. Amber lunged through displays of dog collars to reach it.

Around the room, Amber chased the kittens, finding them hiding behind cans of dog food, and climbing under counters. She tore the pet shop apart, smashing cages and hurling bags of bird seed, all in her effort to find them.

She saw a huge kitten on a nearby wall, ran to it, and attacked with her claws. The kitten shredded, and Amber saw that it was just a picture. Just a picture.

Behind the picture, the wall was made of cinder blocks. Amber's metal claws had gouged a trail.

She stared at it in shock. Distantly she heard a small voice. "Amber, stop! Stop!"

Numb, she turned and looked down. Ben and Bushmaster were on the floor nearby. Both held their spears and Ben wore his silly little helmet made of walnut shell. Bushmaster stared at her in fear and surprise.

"Stop it," Ben shouted. "The kittens are gone. They've all gone back to their cage."

Amber turned. The terrified kittens were indeed back in their cage, shivering in fear. Amber hadn't meant to hurt them, but she saw cats limping about, one with a torn ear, some with swollen eyes.

Indeed, everywhere that she looked, the animals cowered in terror. A tank full of turtles looked like nothing but turtle shells. Snakes were burrowing holes in the sands of their cages, cockatoos cowered in the shadows.

Amber's heart pounded so hard, it was as if there was a hammer inside, beating to get out. I'm as tall as a human, she thought. Everything is smaller than me. Nothing can hurt me.

For the first time in her life, Amber realized what it was to be free—free from the fear of being eaten, free to move across the world at will.

What a wonderful thing it must be to be human, she thought. Free from all cages. Free to grow old.

Yet she looked down at Ben, and saw how handsome he was. Strong and sleek and precious.

"I wish," she said. "I wish I were a mouse again."