Free Bite-Sized Magic by Kathryn Littlewood

something small and gray pacing back and forth at the bottom of the building, with green eyes that shimmered in the dark.
    â€œGus?”
    â€œWho else? Are you expecting another feline visitor? Are you seeing another cat behind my back—”
    â€œGus!” Rose cried out. “You’re back!”
    â€œYes, yes, I’ve returned. Rosemary Bliss, Rosemary Bliss, let down your hose!”
    Rose gathered the fire hose from the dark test kitchen, tied it to her backpack, and lowered it to the pavement. “Thank you!” Gus called as he jumped into the backpack.
    She hoisted him up, thinking, Gus can sneak down and get a Moony Pye for me .
    When the backpack reached the window ledge, Gus leaped through the air and landed squarely in Rose’s lap, where she hugged him until he nearly stopped breathing.
    â€œRose!” he gagged. “I know you’ve missed me, but please, be careful. My ribs aren’t made of iron.”
    Rose kissed Gus on the head and loosened her grip. “I’m sorry. I’m just so happy to have you back. When you weren’t there this morning, I almost worried you’d invented the story about the Caterwaul just to have an excuse to get out of here.”
    Gus gasped. “How could you even think such a thing! You silly kitten.”
    â€œSo . . .” Rose stared into his bright-green eyes. “Did you find another cat?”
    â€œOf course I did,” Gus said, licking his paw with feline nonchalance. “Across the great black sea of asphalt, I traveled. The rising sun did not stop me, nor did hunger. No, I was single-minded in my determination. But the fence I found was too high even for a cat of my famous agility to leap over. I had no choice but to wait.”
    â€œAnd a cat came by the fence?” Rose asked.
    â€œDon’t rush me,” Gus said with a twitch of his whiskers. “A tale, like a tail, should be long and strong and interesting. Now where was I?”
    â€œFence,” Rose said. “Waiting.”
    â€œOh yes! The night had passed, and I waited there all day in the hot sun. With each passing hour, my energy waned. I needed a fat piece of tuna, or a can of chicken. But I could not forsake my duty!
    â€œFinally, as I was beginning to doze off into what might have been my final rest, a lynx appeared from the surrounding grasslands.”
    â€œGrasslands?” Rose repeated.
    The cat made a tiny shrug. “He stepped out of a bush, if you must know.”
    â€œGus, did he agree to pass on the message?”
    â€œEventually.”
    â€œAnd that’s the end of your story?” Rose said.
    Gus turned several tight circles on the bed before settling down. “Minus the part where I came back. It was much easier once I knew where I was going, of course.”
    â€œThank you,” Rose said. “At least my parents will know where I am.” But the cat was already asleep.
    Rose tucked herself into bed and tried to ignore the train engine sound of Gus’s purring.
    She tried to think about what her family might be doing at that moment—crying at the police station, no doubt—but her thoughts drifted once again to the Moony Pye. She didn’t want to gloat, but it was pretty impressive, the way she’d adjusted the recipe to make a Marshmallow Cream so decadently delicious, so spellbindingly scrumptious, that even she couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was sheer kitchen sorcery of a sort even her mom would have admired.
    Magic! Suddenly, she thought of how Marge’s shrieks of pain seemed to soften the Moon’s Cheese. There seemed to be a connection there, but hard as she tried to puzzle it out, it slipped out of reach.
    Gus awoke and whined, “Please, cease your sobbing. I can’t sleep.”
    â€œI’m not crying!” Rose retorted.
    â€œThen who is?” Gus asked. “My folded ears detect the sounds of distress.”
    Rose left her bed