“At home. Can you please just get yours and tell me what the hell I’m supposed to be doing?” I plead, hoping my desperation will motivate him to be fast about it.
“Why is it at home?” Tad asks instead as I give an orange tabby that’s giving me the stink eye a wide berth.
“Well, after being magically tazed when I sealed the bones to me, I was kinda in a hurry and forgot it. Can youpleasejust remind me what it says about familiars?” I beg, and I can practically feel the head shake Tad is doing on the other end of the line.
The distinct sound of him clomping up the stairs to his room has me releasing a relieved exhale. I knew I would be bad at this, but my level of suckage is surprising even me. I need to up my ginkgo biloba because I’m struggling to recall any of the things that have been hammered into me since practically birth. I forgot that I even owned a book that details what to do if this ever happens,that’show bad I am at this.
I wait patiently as I hear Tad rustling around on the other end of the phone, and lean in closer to an adorable calico kitten that’s lapping up water from a stainless steel bowl. I smile and swallow down theawwwthat I’m just about to voice when the kitten looks up at me and immediately arcs its back and hisses. Every hair on the kitten fluffs out to stand on end, like each individual follicle is offended by my presence, and I quickly back away from the angry little fur ball.
Sheesh.
“Okay, I’m paraphrasing here,” Tad starts. “But it pretty much just says that you need one, it can be any living thing, and you’ll get all tingly when you find a good fit for you,” Tad tells me, and I can hear the flipping of pages as he scans his guide book for any more useful information. “Yep, that’s it aside from the incantation to bind a familiar.”
Words and their cadence pop into my mind unbidden, and I immediately recognize the very incantation he just mentioned. Weird. Maybe my brain is just rusty and not useless like I thought. Tad starts to read the first line of the binding.
“I know it, don’t keep going!” I shout, hurrying to cut him off before he completes the incantation and accidentally makes Small, Poofy, and Ragey my next familiar. He stops and I press a palm to my chest. That was close. I back further away from the still angry little kitten.
“Thank you, Tad. I’ll let you know if I find one.”
“Better hurry, it’s almost seven, and I’m sure pet stores and shelters will all be closing soon.”
Panic flares through me, and I hang up the phone before he can say anything else, and hurry on with the task at hand. I scan the rest of the cat cages hopefully and continue to make my way through the feline portion of the first shelter that popped up on google. Like some weird Peeping Tom, I peer into every cage, my eyes intense and my body expectant. I stare and I wait for the tingles that are supposed to come, but after my second round of creeping out the cats, nothing happens. I sigh tiredly and accept that finding my familiar at the first place I stopped was probably wishful thinking.
I leave the cat enclosure, defeat echoing in the tap of my steps against the polished concrete floor. I rummage through my purse for my keys and pull up on my phone a list of other shelters or pet stores I can try to get to before they close. A cacophony of frantic barking pulls my attention away from the maps app I just opened. I look up and see rows of kennels with a myriad of different-sized dogs in each chain-link pen.
Crap, I must have gone out the wrong door.
I turn to retrace my steps through the cattery and back to the door that lets me leave, but the handle on the door I just came out of doesn’t budge. After trying it a few more times, I curse my luck. It’s locked. I scan my surroundings, looking for another exit, and wince at the high-pitched desperate barks of the animals all around me.
Pulling my shirt up over my nose in hopes it will block out the smell of wet dog and anxiety that’s permeating this place, I start to make my way down the line of kennels in search of a way out of here.
Dogs yap and yowl at me as I pass, and I pick up my pace, the smell and noise becoming more and more overwhelming. A set of double doors that look like they lead to salvation come into view just as I pass a particularly loud kennel. Tingles erupt all throughout my body. I feel like I just stuck my finger in a light socket. I’d bet if I saw my reflection right now, my curls would be standing on end from the electric charge humming through me.
Dammit.
I squeeze my eyes closed, rub at my tingling arms, and throw my head back. “A dog?” I demand. I mean, of course it’s a dog. They’re needy and stinky and super demanding of things like time and affection. I needed something more independent and loner-ish. Something that wouldn’t judge me for not knowing how to take care of it. I was willing to settle for a cat, but really I need a hedgehog or a snake, definitely not some pesky pooch. My apartment doesn’t even allow dogs.
I remind myself that it could be a ferret and try to rein in my irritation. The tingling sensation working through my body gets stronger, and I shake my head in denial and exasperation as I open my eyes.Tad said that the tingles would happen if I’m compatible with a familiar, not that I had to take one just because I went all static cling over an animal.I take a deep breath at that thought and try to get a better look at what I’m dealing with. I peek hesitantly into the kennel I’m standing in front of, which is when a fucking dire wolf straight out of the pages of an epic fantasy novel chooses to attack from the dark corner of its kennel. The door to its cage rattles ominously as it snarls at me and looks me dead in the eye with a clear message ofI will rip you to shreds and devour you piece by motherfucking piece, bitch.
It charges the cage again, and I stumble back in fear and slam into another kennel behind me. No fucking way am I taking that monster home. The bones can’t be serious.
“Ha ha, ancestors, you’ve had your fun!” I shout, completely unnerved.
The declaration comes echoing back to me, mockingly, as it bounces off the cement walls of the large room and dances all around me like some playground taunt. I scan my surroundings to make sure no one else is in here witnessing my crazy as it unfurls like a flag in the wind. And that’s when I hear a snort coming from the kennel I’m currently pressed up against in my efforts to get as far away as I can from the demon dog across from me. Snarls ricochet off my back as I turn to see what’s responsible for the disgruntled pig noises.
My eyes widen with surprise when I find a pair of moon-dust gray eyes looking up at me. It’s a dog, but not a breed I’ve ever seen before. He looks like some kind of pug, bulldog, collie mix with his long hair, perky battish ears, and squished face. His soot-gray coat sticks out all over the place and looks how I just felt, all charged and staticky. He lies there, his moonlight-toned eyes staring at me like he can’t be bothered to bark or get excited.
The prickling I was feeling before gets even more intense, once again lapping through my body and making me feel charged and fuzzy. I’m both relieved and anxious at the same time. Yay for theGame of Thronesbeast not being the one to set off my spidey senses, but it’s still adogthat’s giving me the familiar feels.
A clang sounds around me, and I jump, startled from the loud noise. I spin around, hoping that wasn’t just the sound of the rabid fucker’s lock breaking on its door behind me.
“What are you doing back here?” a shrill voice demands, and a reedy woman stomps her way over to me.
I throw my hands up like I’m under arrest and take a step back. “I was in the cat area and went through a door that led me here. I tried to get back, but I was locked in here,” I explain defensively.
She shakes her head. “Sorry about that. I thought we got that door fixed. If you’re looking for a dog, these are not the ones you want. They’re all unadoptable. Follow me, I’ll show you where the available dogs are.” She moves to walk away, and I hesitate to follow her.
I don’t want a dog, but I also don’t want to be looking around for days or risk that my ancestors might throw something worse my way. As much as I hate it, I also can’t help feeling a little bad for the pet reject. I look down at the gray four-legged Ewok, my senses confirming that he’s the one, and sigh.
