Misfire

By Abigayle Claire

I peer through the scope of my crossbow. From my vantage point in the rafters, I’m as good as invisible to the royal family below. As if being a male peasant doesn’t make me invisible enough already. But all that is about to change.

In mere moments, the king will be dead, and I’ll be an outlaw—the people’s hero.

I adjust my grip and align the scope’s crosshairs with the king’s chest. Already, I can smell the meat pie I’m going to purchase with my reward money. I inhale deeply, readying my trigger finger to pull on the exhale.

Something orange fills my scope, and I lower my weapon in frustration. A cat? Lucky for me, the king scowls and hands the creature off to the princess. She covers it in kisses.

I raise my crossbow again, aim, and—

An unearthly shriek pierces the air at the exact second my finger tightens on the trigger.

The boing of the crossbow tells me I’ve fired—its clank tells me I’ve missed.

In a single moment, I see it all—the princess holding her arm, the orange cat slinking off, my arrow ricocheting off the stone wall, all eyes turning to me. I scramble to escape on the beam, but the weight of my weapon throws me off balance.

I tilt, wobble, and then plummet toward the floor.

As I come to, a haze of colors and light swims before my eyes. Odd. Every bone in my body should have splintered against the flagstone floor. Based on the cushioning beneath me, I’m in recovery.

I frown. Based on what I’ve done—or failed to do—I should be rotting in the dungeon.

My ears register a rustling sound before something casts a shadow over my watery vision. “Can you hear me?”

Amyra. The king’s sister. Dread fills me as I try to sit up.

“No, don’t move!” Amyra insists in a fierce whisper, running a hand down my back. It’s strangely comforting. “Just listen carefully. This is going to be a shock.”

I lay my head back down and close my eyes. I’ve failed her. I try to form an explanation, but all that comes out is a pitiful squeak.

“You’re my best chance for getting the throne, so I brought you back.”

My ears perk at those words. She… what?

“Don’t ask questions. I can’t understand you. I’ve brought you back from the dead—given you a second chance.”

I scramble to all fours—all fours?—blinking my eyes until I can see clearly. She’s much bigger than I remember, kneeling and bending over me like this. I have a ridiculous urge to bat the laces that sway from her bodice.

Amyra grimaces. “I should have known there’d be a catch when I bought the magic. It will take you a while to adjust, I’m afraid.”

I clear my throat and try again to form words. This time, something close to a meow escapes me.

My eyes widen as I stare up at her. Panic builds as I try to speak again, once more, twice. Nothing but frantic meows.

“Yes… Well, I think the assassination is still worth another try.”

I pause my panicking to stare at her. She’s brought me back from the dead to kill her brother. I’d heard rumors that such incantations could be bought if one knew where to look.

“It will be harder to kill him like this, but no one will suspect you. Please. You know how the princess loves cats.” She looks hopeful, but my jaw falls.

With all the mystifying sounds, ambiguous smells, and bizarre urges demanding my attention, we’ll be lucky if I keep breathing.

Some part of me I’m unaccustomed to twitches, and I spin around to see a silky black tail. My entire sleek body now fits on a pillow. It makes my fur stand on end, which must be the cat equivalent to almost fainting.

“Will you do it?”

I look from my tail to Amyra’s face. She’s turned me into a housecat and still expects me to be able to kill the king? I remember the kissy princess and the orange cat that bit her.

Wait. Cat.

I raise a hand in front of me and flex my petite black paw. Sharp claws appear.

Oh, yes. Way less conspicuous than a crossbow.

Befriend the princess, kill the king, become the rightful queen’s favorite pet. With a twitch of my whiskers, I give her a reluctant nod. I guess I can do that. Especially if the cooking game wafting this way is part of the bargain.

But first I have an orange cat to usurp. My ears flatten involuntarily. A cat that’s cost me my one and only human life.

If I concentrate, I can already smell his presence and hear a mouse in the hall that he’s sure to want for lunch. I can picture myself bounding up into the rafters once more—this time with ease. Even if I do fall again, I bet I’ll land on my feet.

Maybe this orange cat will kill me, but so what? Something tells me I’ve got a total of nine lives now. And this is only my second.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Abigayle Claire has been a writer ever since her mother taught her how to hold a pencil. Inspired by a literal dream at the age of sixteen, she set off on a journey to self-publish her first novel. Since then, Abigayle has devoted herself to sharing what she has learned through her blog and affordable editing services. None of her successes would be possible without the support of her Savior, large family, and online community.

---

Author Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter