Free The Cat-Astrophe by Lexi Connor Page A

questions in advance, can we?”
    “That wouldn’t do at all,” chipped in Hermes. B smiled to herself. Her spell might not count, but at least it had worked!
    “Indeed,” Madame Mel continued. “So this time, make Hermes fly, if you’d be so kind.”
    B studied Hermes’s bulgy-looking body. He looked as aviation-worthy as a serving of mashed potatoes.
    “Okay, Hermes, don’t be scared. F-L-Y.”
    Hermes lolled over onto his back, poking his little paws up in the air, and basked in the sunshine. Not flying at all. B felt her palms begin to sweat.
    “Maybe he needs help with takeoff,” she told Madame Mel, stalling for time and praying her theory was right. She reached down and picked up Hermes, depositing him gently on Madame Mel’s desk, noting with surprise how silky-soft his fur felt.“Hermes, run across the desk and leap into the air, okay?”
    “As you suggest. Please be prepared to catch me if your magic is, ahem, insufficient.” Hermes waddled at full tilt across the end of the desk, then leaped into the air. B held her breath.
    He dipped down only slightly. Then he spread out all four paws and glided leisurely around the room, soaring above both their heads.
    “This is rather exhilarating, I must say!” he called with a high-pitched giggle. “Look at me! Wheeeeeee!”
    B watched Madame Mel’s face anxiously. The corners of the Grande Mistress’s mouth twitched as Hermes’s fur ruffled in the breeze. “He’s starting to show off,” Madame Mel observed.
    “Better come down now,” B told the skunk.
    “Certainly not! This is the best flying spell I’ve had in years!”
    “Never mind; let him enjoy himself,” Madame Mel said. “I’ll tend to him later. Now, for the potion. This time, I will choose the type of brew.”
    B’s hopes fell. She’d been planning to concoct a truth potion, something she’d had some success with in the past.
    Madame Mel dumped out the drawer of ingredients once more. “Would you make a politeness potion?”
    After some consideration, she chose a glove, a breath mint, a moist towelette, and a postage stamp — which made her think of sending thank you notes. She wasn’t sure if it was a strong enough mixture of politeness objects, but she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and spelled, “P-O-L-I-T-E.”
    B opened her eyes and saw that the objects had formed into a tangerine-colored liquid. She breathed its citrusy fragrance before pouring it into a little goblet. Her nose tingled. Uh-oh … she’d inhaled some of the potion!
    Madame Mel pursed her lips and drank a sip.
    “Thank you, B,” she said, her voice syrupy-sweet. “I don’t know when I’ve tasted a lovelier potion.”
    “No, thank
you,”
B replied. “It was a charming idea for an assignment.”
    “My pleasure entirely,” Madame Mel said. “Won’t you pull up a chair? Please, make yourself at home. Can I offer you any refreshment? It’s nearly teatime.”
    “Oh, I’d hate to trouble you,” B said. “I’m perfectly all right. But thanks for offering.”
    Madame Mel hiccupped. “Gracious! Excuse me.” She dabbed at the corner of her lips with a napkin. “I do believe your potion has been successful, B.”
    “He flies through the air with the greatest of ease…,”
warbled Hermes, floating belly up and pretending to backstroke. His altitude was dropping. B plucked him from midair before he bumped into the grandfather clock.
    “I say!” the skunk cried indignantly. “Another flying spell, please!”
    “S-P-E-E-C-H-L-E-S-S,” B spelled before he could lecture her any further. Then she returned to her chair.
    “Awfully kind of you to rescue my skunk. And my clock,” Madame Mel said.
    “Not at all,” B said. “My pleasure.”
    “Ahem. Yes, well, I do apologize for asking anything more of you, B, but we must be moving on with the test. I have another student waiting, and I’d hate to inconvenience him. If you’d be so kind, for your final exercise, would you turn this