Chapter Fourteen

Another Saturday afternoon, Pete and BarCat werewatching their favorite show, Hidden in the Dark. Today's investigation was into the myth about spiders laying eggs in human skin and hatching out. While some exciting graphics showed different scenarios and various old wives' tales, the narrator, Karl Burrstack, told the viewers that, rest assured, spiders do not lay eggs in human skin. The rest of the show presented other kinds of bugs that burrow into human skin, and the images were graphic. While it did not bother BarCat because Karl never mentioned that these insects would burrow into cat skin, Pete did look a little uncomfortable and appeared to be scratching a bit more than usual.

As the afternoon wore on, BarCat indulged in his favorite pastime, drinking from a shot glass and listening to conversations that floated through the bar. Most of them were uninteresting. There were burger offerings passed on to him and an additional drink or two, but for the most part, it was another evening at the Zodiac Bistro.

It was about six-ish when some ladies from one of the new covens in the area came in for dinner. He had seen them several times before. It was initially a group of three ladies, but it had grown, and now there were seven. They were discussing something they had been doing with their coven. Obviously, this coven was not oathbound. They freely discussed the members, the High Priestess, their Book of Shadows, and the workings they were attempting. From the sounds of it, they didn't appear to be getting anywhere with their workings. There was much disappointment from the seven ladies seated at the table. Their practice yielded them nothing, and they were getting frustrated with the whole thing.

BarCat was not surprised. Real magic workers smelled of magic. The types of magic they used had different smells. Necromancers had an earthy, decaying smell about them. Chaos magic smelled of sulfur, and the really bent-out-of-whack ones smelled of gasoline. Witches smelled of herbs, flowery earth, or fresh air, depending on what kind of magic they used. These girls, well, they smelled like regular people. The smell of magic was totally missing.

Missy had brought a pitcher of beer and glasses to the table. The afternoon waitress called off, and the evening waitress would not be in till seven, so Missy filled in as needed. One of the girls stopped her and asked her a question. Something about how long it takes magic to manifest. At that point, a burger offering was placed before BarCat, drawing his attention elsewhere.

What actually happened is a brief discussion on magic and the elements thereof. Not a teaching lesson but more a casual conversation about what makes it work. From what BarCat remembers, certain things must be included in the equation. If they are not all there, then poof, nothing happens.

Another lady came in and sat at the table, and the discussion deepened. Voices appeared to be raised. BarCat chewed his burger and focused on what was going on.

Missy had recommended a couple of books to answer the ladies' questions. She did not want to interfere with what the ladies were being taught. Still, it seemed to Missy that they could augment their knowledge base with some additional reading.

However, the lady who had just arrived was their High Priestess. And she blew up. First she got angry at the ladies at the table for discussing coven business with outsiders. The ladies objected, saying that was never addressed in the coven. The High Priestess said it didn't need to be discussed. They should know this.

While BarCat thought that was a direct contradiction of what she just said, he took another bite. He chewed his burger as the conversation got weighty. Missy had stood up at this point and was turning to head back to the kitchen when the High Priestess stood up and started yelling at Missy for poisoning the minds of her students.

At this point, BarCat stopped chewing and swallowed. He didn't know whether to take cover under the bar or watch the fireworks. Missy, the bar owner, is also a witch of extraordinary reputation and the long-standing and highly respected High Priestess of a local coven. The twit who just started calling her names obviously had no idea and was being incredibly disrespectful, to say the least.

He opted to watch. He lapped some more of his drink and waited. The entire bar stood still and held its breath, waiting for Missy to do something. And she did. Missy returned to the kitchen, got the next order, and served another table. Five minutes later, she returned with the bill, placed it on the table, and left.

BarCat understood. Missy was a class act. She would not do anything to a stark raving mad non-magical person. And that is exactly what that woman was. Not a drop of magic smell came from her. Missy would never harm someone who could not do her harm. She can scream all she wants, but she simply would not be welcomed back into the bar again, which Pete told them as he took the money for their meal. Do not come back, he said. You just insulted the bar owner and will not be welcome here again. The others looked surprised, but the bitchy little wannabe high priestess snorted and said that suits her just fine. And they all left.

In reality, they would never be able to find the Zodiac Bistro again. It will simply be an incident they remember that happened in a bar somewhere. They could stand in front of the door and not see it. The Bistro is magic, and if a person is not wanted, they would be unable to find the bar again. And while the owners do suffer some individuals who are obnoxious and drunk, they do not ban them for being drunk. After all, this is a bar.

But insulting the owner? Poof, gone.

However, BarCat was not satisfied with that. That woman had insulted his source of food and drink and the roof over his head! Yes, BarCat was pretty well gone at this point. After all, it was Saturday night, and that glass had been filled - well, he didn't remember how many times. Besides, he's a cat. He can't count. But he was pretty sloshed. And he wouldn't stand for his source of pleasure to be insulted.

It was about two weeks later when a story came over the news. A reporter was talking to a spokesperson for the CDC. A new spider has been discovered. It is a previously unknown spider species that laid eggs in the face of a sleeping woman. She had presented herself to her doctor with some massive swelling on her face. Upon examination by the doctor, he admitted her to the hospital for observation. A day later, the swelling erupted, and dozens of baby spiders emerged.

They showed a picture of the woman whose face was obscured by bandages. The doctor who treated her said they had been keeping her sedated as she had totally broken down with the incident, which was to be expected. She did, however, scream at a nurse in the background while they were taping. BarCat quickly recognized that annoying tone and voice. The CDC spokesperson said all the spiders were contained and killed. Still, they had never seen anything like this before and were confident this was an isolated case.

BarCat smiled, licked at the bourbon in the glass, and thought to himself - yeah, sure.