Arturus saw the boy in the garden. He seemed to have a glow around him. Their eyes met and he turned away. The door behind him was open. His watcher stood there.

“What were you looking at?” his watcher asked.

“The stars,” Arturus growled. His ears pinned and he stalked away from the window. “What do you want?” he asked.

“The master has guests tonight. You are to remain quiet – and here – until they’ve gone,” the watcher said. “I know you like to read at night, but – ,”

“The guests won’t go into the library,” Arturus growled. He paced the room for a moment. “The guests never go into the library. There is no need to disrupt my routine because he has guests.”

“Arty, try and relax,” the watcher said, his hands raised in a mollifying gesture.

Arturus yowled at him.

“Use words,” the watcher reminded.

“I want my books,” Arturus growled.

“I’ll bring you some books with your supper. Relax, Arturus,” the watcher said.

“Don’t forget this time,” Arturus said. His eyes slid shut as the watcher smoothed his fur. “I want fish for supper.”

“Of course,” the watcher said. He stepped back and headed toward the door, careful to watch Arturus the whole time. “We have pasta alfredo as well. I’ll bring that up with your fish.” Then he was gone and a soft click told Arturus that the door was locked.

As he usually did, Arturus reached under the door with his clawed hands and shook it. To his utter shock, the trick worked for once and the door popped open. His ears pricked, Arturus peeked out the door and then padded softly down the steps.