Prologue, Continued

The black cat watched.

Suddenly, the shop-bell rang. Two humans, a male and female, came in from Cutting Lane. The shopkeeper glanced up into the shadows for a moment, then rested its broom against the counter and approached them.

Human beings were as shadowy to Majicou as he was to them. But in his lifetime--which was long--he had watched them come and go, and come and go, and he knew their qualities. This pair were young and nervous--he could smell it on them--a little disoriented by the darkness of the shop. They were cheerful, harmless, well provided for, and keen to share their luck. They were eager to adopt. The moment they saw the kitten, they forgot everything else. This suited perfectly his design: they would fulfill the kitten's needs until Majicou was ready for him. Nevertheless, the black cat watched exasperatedly as, through body languages of need and self-deception, all the age-old misunderstandings and betrayals enacted themselves again--

The male poked its fingers into the pen to attract the kitten's attention. It made a noise at the back of its soft palate, "Cs cs cs." The female laughed. At first, obsessed by the finches, the kitten ignored them both. Then, jumping down as if he had grown bored with what he couldn't have, he strutted over, stiff-legged, tail up, cocky and curious and full of himself, to have a look. Ambushed by the beauty of his wild barred face and huge green eyes, the female gaped in delight.

Seeing this, the shopkeeper smiled a complex smile, deftly opened the pen, and scooped the kitten out into the female's waiting arms.

For his part, the kitten sat still and stared intently at the two huge faces that loomed above him. His nose was full of possibilities. He sensed great positive change. He began to purr. His purr was like a great soft engine that trembled through his warm white pelt into the woman's arms, from his bones to her bones. "Take me with you," said the purr. "Take me with you. A fine home, and room to roam! Take me there and feed me sardines. Game casserole. Beef and kidney. Tuna in brine!" The kitten rolled over to display his pure white belly. "Look! Take me home!"

(Majicou viewed this performance emptily. "Charm them now," he thought: "Charm them well. But how will you help yourself when they have charmed you in return?")

The silver kitten wriggled and purred.

Fifteen minutes later, he was leaving his prison forever, riding in a large wicker basket.

The shopkeeper stood like a wound-down toy for a moment, watching them go off along the empty street. Then, the smile fading suddenly from its face, it backed into the shop, shut the door, and peered out between advertisements--dog food shaped like a bone, cat food shaped like a bird. It reached up with its free hand, changed the sign from OPEN to CLOSED.

Then, without warning, every animal in the shop seemed to go mad.

Finches hopped from perch to perch, filling the air with shrieks and whistles of alarm. Noses twitching, the fat hamsters and guinea pigs stared panickily through their bars then buried themselves as fast as they could in their straw. The Belgian rabbits turned their backs, as if this gesture could render them invisible. Even the fish seemed agitated, flickering through the bubbles in their water worlds.

The shopkeeper turned to see what was the matter. Its broom clattered to the floor. It stared wildly around and seemed to be about to say something, deny something; apologize for something. Instead, for no apparent reason, it opened the street door again. The one-eyed black cat slipped out into Cutting Lane.

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