Wind doesn’t have teeth. It doesn’t have claws. And it doesn’t bargain.
It just is. Or it isn’t.
This whole cat mess is an excellent example of thinking before you act. So many mortals bewail their fates and plead for magic to come in and make everything better. But let me tell you a secret: magic doesn’t usually make anything better. If anything, it complicates things until what ought to have been a relatively simple task becomes a tangled mess of fur and paws and sharp teeth.
Believe me, I know.
No, magic is meant to be a spark. A tiny flash of fire that ignites a person’s fate. It has its own rules and logic. For instance, if I’m not working as your fairy godmother, you can’t see me. You can’t talk about me. And you wouldn’t believe in me even if you could see me. That’s just how things are. I’m only as real as the wanting in my DIDs’ hearts.
And it’s rather lowering to have one’s existence hinge on another’s. If I were to have complete control over my wand, if I were no longer at the mercy of some girl’s starry-eyed dream as a means of escape from a life of ill treatment, well, I would be a little more self-serving, now wouldn’t I? No wonder the djinn seek to double cross their masters any chance they get. It isn’t pleasant being seen as a thing, a means to an end. Just as magic rarely works as a cure-all solution, magical folk have feelings too. Even the djinn. And yes, even the cats.
In a way, I suppose it was only inevitable that they should strike a bargain. They’ve been waiting for their master for a very long time, and even immortal creatures get bored after a hundred years.
But still, what they’re asking for is impossible. Havethor hasn’t been seen in nearly a hundred years. The brightest, most able among the mortals and magical both, have been searching for him all that time without result. What makes those cats think I can do something so many have tried and failed to do? It’s conventional wisdom that fairy godmothers can make the impossible possible. But people who believe that either haven’t read enough stories or haven’t been paying attention.
Fairy godmothers don’t make impossible things happen–we only help it along. And it looks like I’m going to really have to help things along if I want my DID safe. But for now, I’ve learned my lesson. I’m going to make sure there is an anti-cat clause in all of my contracts from here on out. The moment my DID sprouts claws, whiskers, and a tail, we’re through.
But for now, it looks like Impossible is the next thing on the agenda.