Part 46 (1/2)
Arthur shook his head. ”Too convenient a conversion, I fear, but we'll speak again later.”
”I saved you from that shadow! You owe me.”
”I do.”
”And this is how you repay me?”
”The two are not connected.”
Sam watched the Immortal King head out of Pet Supplies and searched for a sufficiently scathing last word. Unfortunately, nothing came to him. One paw braced on a crossbar, he rose up on his hind legs and studied the latch. It could only be opened from the outside.
”Hey, little furry dude. What're you in for?”
Sighing, he dropped back down to all fours and glanced mournfully up at Stewart. ”I wouldn't promise Arthur I'd stay in the store.”
”Oh, for crying out loud; what part of 'lying' did you not understand?”
Oops.
”Couldn't lie to him, eh? Yeah, I know how it is. He's the kind of guy you can't lie to because this little voice in your head just kind of chimes in and says he deserves the truth.”
”The little voice in my head keeps calling me kibble-for-brains.”
”Harsh.”
”Yeah, but cats are supposed to be good at lying. And they're supposed to only think of themselves, but I can't stop worrying about Diana. And Claire. And you guys.”
”Us guys? Hey, we're fine.”
Sam swept an amber gaze up one side of the mall elf and down the other, getting full mileage from the disdainful expression Arthur hadn't seen. ”No, you're not. The only person I'm not worried about is Dean, and that's because he's got Austin with him and Austin knows what he's doing. He can keep bad things from happening. I can't.” The stripes on his forehead folded back into a worried frown. ”I just haven't been a cat long enough.”
”Yeah?” Stewart picked up a tiny purple mouse on a scarlet string, looked at it thoughtfully for a moment, then began attaching it to a braid. ”What were you before you were a cat?”
”An angel.”
”An angel? A real angel? No s.h.i.+t?
”Not until I got a body, then it came as a bit of a surprise.”
”Okay.” Reaching into a birdcage, the mall elf pulled out a tiny mirror. ”Why do you suppose birds want to look at themselves?”
”I have no idea.”
”Are they just, like, really vain? Or do they think the mirror's some kind of, I don't know, magic window to another bird?”
Mirror's some kind of magic window.
Magic mirror.
Sam padded over to Stewart's side of the crate. ”Can I have that?”