10 – Aftermath by Asprin, Robert

So that’s how he accomplished his not-so-impossible surprise entry!

“I’m sorry, Strick. C’mere, you dam’ cat. He always makes that sick- eningly sweet li’l kitten sound when he hears aggravation in my voice and he thinks he deserves a tongue-lashing. Come . . . Here, Note . . . able!”

“mew?”

Strick sat very still while the red cat-unduly, unequivocally, and al- most unconscionably large-trotted tippy-toe past him and, an instant after Hanse said “No, Notable!” and started to duck, precipitately ap- peared on the lap of the seated young man’s tunic. Hanse grunted and gave the spellwright an unusually, unconditionally, and decidedly un- wontedly subdued and guilty look.

“I’m, uh, sorry, Strick.”

“It looks very much as if Notable has decided he is your cat, Hanse, not Ahdio’s.”

“Aye, I know,” Hanse said. His voice was sad, though .his face was not.

“Once a cat makes up its mind . . .”

“Alleged mind. Aye, I know. It’s just that Ahdio’s so damned big . . .”

“Urn. Let’s hope he’s big about understanding, too. Hanse . . . listen, I need a favor. Two.”

“Uh.”

“Take Frax and Wints out and show them how you got in here. Tell them I want them to make any changes necessary to make sure no one can do it again.”

“Strick, I swear: no one else could.”

Strick sat staring at him in silence until Hanse had to exert his strength to keep from looking down. The expression of wide-eyed innocence that had long served him well with others didn’t work with this man. This maker of spells was different. Strick was like . . . like no one.