One needs to be loyal. Maybe to an idea, a friend, or even to love, but I think most of all to oneself. It is this loyalty that gives real meaning to life.
Simon came home late, and even though ghosts needed neither rest nor sleep, he looked like he could use some.
"So?"
He sighed. "You were right. They are not preparing for a simple ritual at all but for a trial."
I raised one eyebrow.
"This kid's got himself in a lot of trouble," he continued "A string of thefts and burglaries."
I sighed. "Did you look at the paperwork?"
Simon nodded and held out his hand.
I quickly scanned the documents through his memory, and sure enough, Rolo had committed a lot more than I expected. Maybe that was why he's been acting more nervous lately.
"There's something more," he added.
I grimaced and let him touch me again.
Rolo slipped silently out of the apartment, his steps barely making a sound. He must have known that his disappearance wouldn't go unnoticed, but since no one had ever commented on his absence before, he probably wasn't too concerned.
Of course, he knew I knew exactly what he was up to. He could tell by the way I subtly warned him with a look whenever he encountered someone shady after returning home. I never spoke a word, but my displeasure was clear.
Alex likely left me alone simply because he was used to it. I had disappeared or gotten myself into dangerous situations so many times that maybe the wolf didn't feel entitled to bring it up with Rolo.
In any case, Alex never asked questions. He just silently supported me, never pressing. Sometimes, Rolo envied that, though I could see the faint flicker of jealousy in his eyes whenever he glanced at Alex. Of course, Rolo knew his own value to the famiglia, but sometimes he couldn't help feeling envious—only to brush it off immediately.
Rolo wasn't often uncertain of himself, but tonight, something about the situation made him question everything, perhaps not for the first time, but certainly after a long while. People had always treated him in a way that made him feel special, but I saw him for what he truly was—and that must have been both unnerving and oddly reassuring for him.
He reached his destination and glanced at his watch—exactly one minute before the appointed time. That minute seemed to stretch on forever.
The mage appeared out of nowhere, his hood still obscuring his face. With a few murmured words, he cast some simple spells to ensure there would be no surprises for him.
"Did you bring it?" the boy asked coldly, once the mage finished.
The mage didn't respond with words, instead pulling a small book from his cloak. Rolo exchanged the book for the money, and the transaction was completed in silence.
The mage vanished almost immediately—he couldn't risk being caught. Rolo quickly made his way back to his hiding spot.
Hiding behind a container, he swiftly undressed, stashing his belongings in a small pouch with the book. The pouch, of course, was enchanted to expand in space, allowing him to fit everything into a tiny bag.
Then, he changed shape. By now, Rolo had nearly mastered the pain, and the transformation took only moments.
He seemed to revel in his cat form. If one could say such a thing, he looked more at ease, more confident. His movements were fluid, graceful, as if he had been born to leap meters at a time, to almost fly or balance effortlessly on top of fences.
For some time, Rolo had made an abandoned house in Somogy his secret base. It had been empty for almost a decade, and before that, it had been a school for young Christian pupils. No more students came to study there, and now only the old priest and his daughter kept the place somewhat habitable. Stray cats were often fed around this time. They tried to feed Rolo a few times, but he refused the dry food so vehemently that they eventually gave up.
Rolo had created a small opening in the wall, just big enough for him to slip through—hidden by a bush. The priest never noticed it, and it led into a forgotten room filled with discarded rubbish. He had spent two weeks carefully removing the fibreboard from behind a cupboard. It was there he slipped through, the cupboard door creaking open with the gentlest touch of his paw.
The room was abandoned, dusty, and desolate. The furniture barely stood, moth-eaten curtains fluttered in the breeze, and mold coated the walls. There was, however, a door leading to the attic.
The attic was just as neglected, but it had become Rolo's refuge. The boarded-up windows gave the space a feeling of isolation that others might find oppressive, but to him, it felt secure and hidden. Cobwebs clung to the beams of the roof, and Rolo often balanced on them with ease.
This was crucial—if the priest had ever thought to check the attic, Rolo's presence wouldn't be noticed, hidden in the shadows of the beams.
In the attic, Rolo stacked his stolen books, his notes, and the items he had acquired. He had repurposed some boxes into makeshift tables and covered them with jars and bottles, each one labeled carefully.
Returning to his human form with ease, Rolo donned a robe and settled onto one of the boxes to read. His eyes devoured the lines describing meditation exercises that could help him understand his magic better. He skimmed the simple spells that followed, searching for something of true use.
And then, he found it—the chapter on telepathy. The mage had written about how to communicate with humans while in the form of an animal. That seemed useful.
Rolo reread the passage a few times, memorizing it, before turning the page.
I opened my eyes just as Simon's cool fingers pulled away from my forearms. I nodded in thanks.
"Are you sure you want to let him get involved in this kind of business?" Simon asked, his tone more concerned than usual.
I looked up at him. His face remained as neutral as ever, but his eyes betrayed genuine concern.
"Whatever I told him, he wouldn't listen," I replied simply.
Simon frowned but didn't say anything further. He knew I was right.
(...)
Alex stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the woman across from him for a long moment, clearly taken aback.
Seraphina was more intimidating than the king of cats.It wasn't easy to pinpoint why—perhaps it was the fluid, lethal precision with which she moved, her every step exuding an air of danger. Or maybe it was the fact that she never spoke, at least not in my presence. Before she came to us, I had never once heard her voice.
Perhaps it was the cold, emotionless depth of her gaze, capable of freezing anyone who met it. That stare made people instinctively back away, creating enemies out of everyone. Her eyes were a void—absorbing light and life, a gaze so full of intent it sent chills down your spine. Yet, when she looked at Leo, something shifted ever so slightly, a fleeting softness. There was a bond there, unspoken but undeniable.
Alex fought the impulse to slam the door and let her inside. She gave him a curt nod, then ignored him entirely, turning her attention to the hallway, her sharp eyes scanning every inch of it, as if she feared I might be hiding a secret, or worse, someone.
Alex finally guided her to the kitchen, excused himself, and rushed up the stairs to knock on my bedroom door.
"Shay!" he called, his voice louder than usual, "I know you're awake!"
I groaned, throwing the covers off me. Getting out of bed, I quickly dressed, wondering just how long it would take Alex to decide breaking down my door was a reasonable option. But, as usual, that didn't happen. I opened the door, stifling a yawn, and trudged downstairs to the kitchen.
Sera was sitting at the table, her piercing grey eyes fixed on me, her impatience barely concealed. I slid into the chair across from her, giving her a tired smile as I yawned again.
"You're earlier than I expected," I commented, but she remained silent.
"It's 8:30," Alex reminded me, clearly irked by the slow start to the morning.
I shot him a glance and responded with a simple request. "Fried eggs. Three of them."
Alex arched an eyebrow at me, looking over at Sera as if seeking confirmation. I leaned back in my chair, stretching out, then turned to Sera with a false politeness, "Breakfast, perhaps?"
"No," she replied coldly.
Her voice was soft, velvety even, but laced with an unmistakable chill. It carried an underlying danger that made the air around us feel heavier. I gestured toward the fridge for Alex to prepare the meal, silently indicating I wasn't going to argue on an empty stomach.
The sizzle of eggs in the pan broke the silence, a sharp contrast to the palpable tension in the room. Alex was visibly uncomfortable, shifting between the stove and the counter, trying to ignore the hostile energy crackling between me and Sera.
When he finally set the bowl of eggs in front of me, he busied himself with making a mug of cocoa, hoping it would divert attention from the simmering atmosphere. I took my time eating, feeling Sera's watchful gaze. Her eyes remained trained on me, sharp and penetrating.
Once I finished, I took slow sips from the cocoa, letting the warmth settle in.
"Where is he?" she asked, her voice devoid of emotion.
I thought for a moment before answering. "He's in Somogy. Sometimes he disappears there for a while."
Her gaze hardened. "You should be more responsible."
I met her eyes without hesitation. "I know exactly where he is and what he's doing," I cut in sharply, "which, frankly, is more than you've done so far."
The words hit their mark. Her eyes flashed with annoyance, but she remained silent.
"He'll be back soon," I added, taking another sip, "and then you can question him to your heart's content."
With a sigh, she shifted her focus back to me. "I'll start with you in his absence."
"I'm listening," I said, leaning back in my chair.
"I have a few questions," she continued, her tone formal and measured.
I nodded, giving her the go-ahead.
"How many members are in your famiglia?"
"Who knows?" I shrugged, my casual response causing her gaze to sharpen, but I wasn't about to make it easy for her.
Her eyes narrowed further.
"Cats really have nothing to do with it," I added with a smirk.
This game was more about getting information to sell than about making sure I was fit.
"What made you choose Roland as a member of your family?" Sera asked next, her voice cutting through the air like a blade.
"He chose me, not the other way around," I protested.
"But you allowed him to join," she countered. "There must have been a reason."
"Whatever reason I give, you wouldn't accept it," I replied absentmindedly. "You think I lured him away from your boss because of his skills."
"Isn't that what happened?" Her tone was laced with suspicion.
"No," I said lightly, "I don't care how highly he's regarded by your kind."
Sera's steely grey eyes scrutinized my words, searching for any trace of a lie. But there was none, and that only deepened her dissatisfaction.
"I hear you don't like cats," she remarked. "Yet you keep one by your side. That strikes me as unusual."
"My opinion hasn't changed," I said, "but there are exceptions."
"And why is he an exception?"
I shrugged. "I got to know him."
She didn't believe a word of it, but she let the topic drop, moving to her next line of attack.
"Do you think you can take care of him?"
I nearly smiled. How quaint. It was a question designed to corner me. If I said yes, she'd pounce on any perceived weakness. If I said no, I'd concede defeat. Oh, sweet Sera, underestimating me so greatly.
"Rolo isn't a baby," I replied smoothly. "He can take care of himself, and you know it."
She gave me a long, hard stare, her gaze as sharp as ever.
"Are you finished?" I asked, feigning boredom.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She knew she couldn't shake me, no matter how hard she tried. This round was mine.
"It seems the other party has arrived," I announced.
Her eyebrows moved slightly closer together—a subtle sign of her confusion. Her features remained as emotionless as ever, her eyes as steady and piercing.
"I suggest you don't mess with the kid," I added, just enough to keep her in check.
She couldn't decide if my comment was a threat or a warning. In the end, she didn't have time to ask.
A few moments later, the front door opened softly and then closed. Rolo wasn't surprised that someone had come to investigate, but Sera's personal appearance caught him off guard.
He shot me an angry look for not giving him a heads-up. I knew if he'd known beforehand, he'd have been too nervous—no one wanted to face Sera.
He greeted her formally and invited her to his room. Before they ascended the stairs, I caught a piercing glance from each of them. I suppressed a laugh.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to leave them alone?" Alex asked, breaking the silence.
I nodded. "Probably."
"That woman is very determined," Alex remarked.
"Indeed," I agreed. "She was a stray herself before Leo found her. She sees herself in the kid, which is why she's so protective."
"She won't give up," Alex said. "I can feel it."
"Once she realizes how different they are, she'll have no choice," I replied. "Now hush, or I'll miss the good part."
With that, I closed my eyes, leaned back in my chair, and listened intently. Alex rolled his eyes but kept quiet.
Rolo closed the door behind them, gestured for Sera to take a seat, and settled into the chair opposite her. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, tension thick in the air.
"What made you do this?" she demanded.
"He didn't make me do anything," Rolo retorted. "I chose him, and that's not going to change."
Sera exhaled sharply but forced herself to regain composure.
"I won't be giving a favorable report," she declared, her tone resolute.
Rolo's green eyes glinted with a cold fury.
"If you mess this up, you won't walk away unscathed," he warned. "Trust me, you don't want to make me your enemy. I may not be a threat now, but one day, I'll repay the favor."
"You don't know him," Sera argued, her voice rising. "You have no idea what kind of monster he is!"
A wry smile tugged at Rolo's lips.
"I've seen enough of him during the war," he replied. "I know what I'm dealing with."
"You don't know everything!" Sera insisted. "You don't know nearly enough about him to make this kind of choice."
"Do I know enough about Leo?" Rolo shot back. "I don't know much about him either."
Sera's lips pressed into a thin, razor-sharp line. She rose to her feet, casting a withering look at him.
"I wonder if your faith in him will remain unshaken tomorrow," she said flatly before storming out of the room, and moments later, out of the house.
"Well, that didn't seem to go well," Alex remarked.
"On the contrary," I said.
But there was a problem. Contrary to my calculations, Sera had held back her trump card. She was saving it for tomorrow's confrontation. She was going to throw everything she had at Rolo, and if he cracked before the Council, it wouldn't just jeopardize his coming-of-age ritual—it would be far more serious than that.
I knew I should have talked to Rolo, prepared him for the truth that would come out. I had intended to, but as I approached his door, I found myself walking past without slowing down. I should have prepared him for the devastating truth, but the strength to face him eluded me—even though I knew everything would come to light tomorrow.