“Wait,” said Henry. “Flaming swords?”
“Yes,” said the cat. Flaming swords of righteousness.”
“But they’re not righteous,” said a fairy. “They are the bad guys.”
“That’s true,” said the cat. “They kill anyone who isn’t like them.”
“Um” said Henry, looking at the man once again. “Do you have a flaming sword?”
“I have a sword,” he said, looking around. “I just don’t know where it is.”
“Great,” hissed the cat. “So you haven’t been keep your wings in fighting condition, nor anything ELSE, it seems!”
The man sat perfectly still, then started to open his wings. He concentrated as hard as he could and little by little they opened more and more. Feathers fell to the floor and the cat pounced on them, upset with himself for doing so. Finally, his wings hit the walls of the living room and could go no farther.
“They don’t look that bad,” said the cat, a feather, stuck to his side. “How do they feel?”
“Strange but familiar,” said the man, smiling.
“I made a couple of stops before I came here,” meowed the cat. “I talked to a few of the fallen and they couldn’t believe that those idiots, that was their word,” he said haughtily, “would come after you after all this time. They volunteered to help you fight.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” said the man frowning. “This is my fight and I don’t want anyone to get hurt on my behalf.”
“Oh, blah, blah, blah, it’s not all about YOU,” said the cat, pacing back and forth in front of him.
“It’s not?” asked the man, surprised.
“Okay, it is, but there are a lot more like you now, than there have ever been before and they want to fight against the establishment.”
“I get that,” said the man nodding.”
“So where do you think you put your sword?”
“It’s in the back room behind a lot of rare books,” said one of the fairies, brightly. “I’ve been polishing it for years.”
“You have?” asked the man, taken back.
“Sure,” twittered the fairy. “I thought it might come in handy one day. You know, in case you ever had to fight for your life, or protect us,” she said, pointing at everyone. “I’ve been taking care of the gun under the counter as well.”
“I’m going to talk to the books,” said another fairy. “They can help.”
“How?” asked the cat.
“Leave it to me,” said the fairy, flying out of the room.
“How many will show?” asked the man.
The cat caught another feather and rolled on top of it. “No idea,” he mewed. “They said they would pass the word.”
The man nodded. “I guess I’ll get ready then.”
“Okay,” purred the cat, rubbing against the wall. “I can’t wait not to be a cat,” he meowed. “They do such…oh, another feather,” he said happily, leaping into the air.
The man leaned over and scratched the cat’s head. “You make a wonderful cat.”
“I make a wonderful ANYTHING, and don’t you forget it.”
The old man picked Henry up off the table and took her into the bedroom. He put her in her drawer and told her not to come out until he said it was okay to do so. Then he went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.