Free The Pinhoe Egg by Diana Wynne Jones

just what to do. He knew how to adjust his weight and how to use every muscle in his body. He knew almost exactly how Syracuse felt—which was surprise, and triumph at having gotten the right rider at last—and just what Syracuse wanted to do. Together, like one animal that happened to be in two parts, they surged off across the yard, with Joss Callow in urgent pursuit, and through the open paddock gate. There Syracuse broke into a glad canter. It was the most wonderful feeling Cat had ever known.
    It lasted about five minutes, and then Cat fell off. This was not Syracuse’s fault. It was simplybecause muscles and bones that Cat had never much used before started first to ache, then to scream, and then gave up altogether. Syracuse was desperately anxious about it and stood over Cat nosing him until Joss Callow raced up and seized the reins. Cat tried to explain to him.
    â€œI see that,” Joss said. “There must be some other world where you and this horse are the two parts of a centaur.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” Cat said. He levered himself up off the grass like an old, old man. “They say I’m the only one there is in any world.”
    â€œAh, yes, I forgot,” said Joss. “That’s why you’re a nine-lifer like the Big Man.” He always called Chrestomanci the Big Man.
    â€œCongratulations,” Chrestomanci called out, leaning on the gate beside Julia. “It saves you having to teleport, I suppose.”
    Julia added, rather vengefully, “Remember you have to do the mucking out now.” Then she smiled, a sighing, relieved sort of smile, and said, “Congratulations too.”

Chapter Five
    C at ached all over that afternoon. He sat on his bed in his round turret room wondering what kind of magic might stop his legs and his behind and his back aching. Or one part of him anyway. He had decided that he would make himself numb from the neck down and was wondering what the best way was to do it, when there was a knock at his door. Thinking it must be Roger being more than usually polite, Cat said, “I’m here, but I’m performing nameless rites. Enter at your peril.”
    There was a feeling of hesitation outside the door. Then, very slowly and cautiously, the handle turned and the door was pushed open. Asulky-looking boy about Roger’s age, wearing a smart blue uniform, stood there staring at him. “Eric Chant, are you?” this boy said.
    Cat said, “Yes. Who are you ?”
    â€œJoe Pinhoe,” said the boy. “Temporary boot boy.”
    â€œOh.” Now Cat thought about it, he had seen this boy out in the stableyard once or twice, talking to Joss Callow. “What do you want?”
    Joe’s head hunched. It was from embarrassment, Cat saw, but it made Joe look hostile and aggressive. Cat knew all about this. He had mulish times himself, quite often. He waited. At length Joe said, “Just to take a look at you, really. Enchanter, aren’t you?”
    â€œThat’s right,” Cat said.
    â€œYou don’t look big enough,” Joe said.
    Cat was thoroughly annoyed. His aching bones didn’t help, but mostly he was simply fed up at the way everyone seemed to think he was too little. “You want me to prove it?” he asked.
    â€œYes,” said Joe.
    Cat cast about in his mind for something he could do. Quite apart from the fact that Cat was forbidden to work magic in the Castle, Joe hadthe look of someone who wouldn’t easily be impressed. Most of the small, simple things Cat thought he could get away with doing without Chrestomanci noticing were, he was sure, things that Joe would call tricks or illusions. Still, Cat was annoyed enough to want to do something . He braced his sore legs against his bed and sent Joe up to the very middle of the room’s round ceiling.
    It was interesting. After an instant of total astonishment, when he found himself aloft with his uniformed