Free Solace & Grief by Foz Meadows

heady and scary and wonderful all at once. And yet, for all that, she knew very little about Manx; as little, in fact, as he really knew about her. Until today, their understanding had been silent, intuitive, unaided by explanation.
    Biting ruefully at the inside of his cheek, Manx exhaled sharply and tilted his head back, so that he was watching the sky. The corner of one eye flickered.
    ‘Solace,’ he said, ‘I can turn into a cat. A big cat. Not a panther or a lion or anything. Just a big. Damn. Cat.’ He straightened his neck again, facing her. ‘I'm told it's very intimidating, if you're drunk.’
    ‘That's… weird,’ said Solace, trying to imagine the sight and failing quite spectacularly. She'd braced herself for a revelation, but whatever she'd been expecting, this wasn't it.
    ‘I mean,’ he continued, ‘what would be so wrong with a leopard? Even an ocelot – I know they're small, but at least they look, you know, respectable. But a big house cat? That's just cruel and unusual.’ He glanced at her. ‘I think I understand why I don't shrink – distribution of mass, or whatever – but that doesn't explain why I'm just a bigger version of something small.’
    Solace blinked. ‘Manx. You're trying to rationalise shape-shifting, a supposedly mythical process wherein you change species . If there's an explanation for what any of us can do, you and I included, then I doubt it has anything to do with commonsense, let alone the laws of physics. Or at least, the laws of physics as currently understood by normal people.’
    He sighed. ‘I know. I just wish I was fierce.’
    Solace smiled, toying with the empty cup in her hand. ‘So that's why you're called Manx - after a cat breed.’
    ‘Pretty much. I mean, I have a tail when I change, I'm not an actual manx. I just like the sound of it. It's more interesting than Matthew.’
    Silence flickered between them. For a moment, Solace worried he'd change the subject, but after some moments had ticked by, he began talking again, more slowly than before.
    ‘It's… uncomfortable to change, less so to change back. The longer I stay a cat, the more I start to think like one. I don't know why. Even when I'm human, my hearing and eyesight are sharper than normal. I can –’ he grinned, briefly, ‘– talk to cats, and you'd be surprised by how interesting that really is. I mean, it is interesting. Cats get around. They see lots of things that people think nobody knows.’ He dropped his gaze and when he looked back again, his voice had quietened. ‘I found out when I was seven. The first time I changed, I almost couldn't come back. My parents are old-school Catholic. They thought I was possessed, tried to have me exorcised.’ He laughed, softly and without humour. ‘Eventually, I ran away. Found Electra when I was sixteen. Or maybe she called me. Jess told you about her Trick?’
    Solace nodded, hardly daring to move, lest he change the subject. Around them, twilight flickered like a fading candle, sputtering sparks as the streetlights switched on. Manx plucked idly at a blade of grass, twirling it as he spoke.
    ‘She was twelve. I found her in an alley. Some people were attacking her, saying she'd stolen their things. Well, what she does isn't stealing, not really. We've figured out now that it needs to be lost, but it used to just arrive. She'd want, and the thing would come. And this one time, she'd wanted something pretty. Her family was poor, she was young. It was wishful thinking. Sure enough, a gorgeous necklace arrives, all silver and sapphires. It looked – it was – valuable. She almost got rid of it on the spot.’ He sighed. ‘The first day she wore it, a man claiming to be the original owner saw her, said she must've stolen it. He was a neighbour. Well-known. When Electra didn't give it back, he started spreading lies at the local pub, saying she was a burglar. People believed him.’
    ‘Why didn't she just hand it over?’
    Manx shook his head.