"Of course, it's not lost, detective. You shouldn't accuse people without reason. But that damn cat..."
The man inside the door spoke through gritted teeth, as if the cat had eaten up his life savings. His face twisted with rage.
"Just take it away! I will never take care of an orange cat again."
"Alright, where is the cat?" Shade asked, though he wasn't particularly fond of cats. For the generous reward, however, he was willing to carry the creature through the streets without complaint.
"On the roof."
The man pointed upward, his expression growing even more bitter.
"Since that other detective brought it here, it hasn't let anyone get near it. It scratched my wife and Cindy twice. It won't eat cheap cat food, and it bullies the other pets. In all the years I've run this place, I've never seen such an aggressive six-month-old kitten... At this time of day, it's always sunbathing up there! Take it away, I can't deal with it anymore."
Shade tried to ignore the man's complaints and stepped back from the doorway to look up at the three-story building.
"And how exactly do you expect me to get up there?"
"There's a ladder in the backyard. You can climb up to the roof. I'm not going up there—I never want to see that cat again!"
Shade had no interest in climbing that high, especially with safety concerns. He was about to try persuading the big-nosed man when the latter pressed a shilling into his hand.
"That other detective gave me one shilling and ten pence to look after the cat for two months. Take the shilling back and get the cat out of here! Don't let me ever see it in this alley again!"
The man's voice was nearly hysterical, drawing the attention of children playing in the street and a woman hanging laundry on a nearby balcony. It was hard to imagine the psychological damage that little orange cat had inflicted on him.
Following the man through the house, Shade was led to a backyard cluttered with empty pet cages. The man held the metal ladder steady while Shade gingerly climbed to the roof.
The rooftop was strewn with junk and debris, making Shade wonder how it had all been hauled up. In the southeast corner, in the only clean patch of ground, lay the cat. It stretched lazily on a metal pipe, basking in the morning sun.
It was indeed a small cat, no more than half a year old, its body as relaxed as a puddle. Despite its lean build, its fur shone healthily in the sunlight.
Although the cat was technically orange, it looked more like a white cat wrapped in a soft orange blanket. As it stood, Shade realized that the brilliant orange was indeed its natural fur color.
Perched atop a rusty pipe propped on a discarded sofa cushion, the cat was slightly elevated above the other rooftop items. It stood up, backlit by the morning sun, and regarded Shade with cautious amber eyes. Shade, unfamiliar with handling animals, was unsure if the cat would attack him, given the big-nosed man's warnings.
But the cat, named Mia just like its owner, didn't seem particularly aggressive. It studied Shade, and Shade knew he was being judged. He tried to appear friendly, constantly reminding himself of the cat's value.
"I'm here to take you back to your owner, Miss Mia Sand Gold."
He carefully found a stable place to stand amidst the debris, crouched slightly, and clapped his hands in what he hoped was an inviting gesture. He forced a smile, but as expected, his suspicious appearance did nothing to win the cat over.
"Mia Sand Gold."
This time, Shade spoke with a local Tobesque accent, a skill he had picked up in the past couple of days. The cat's small orange ears twitched. It lifted its right front paw, licked it, and continued staring at him with its bright amber eyes.
Shade pressed his lips together, looked around, and confirmed that no buildings nearby were taller than this one. Then he extended his right index finger.
"Look."
Silver light glowed at the tip of his finger, and the cat's amber eyes immediately widened. It slightly opened its mouth, still perched on the rusty pipe. Its whiskers twitched as it leaned forward to examine the glowing finger.
"Mia Sand Gold," Shade repeated, slowly approaching the orange cat. He cautiously extended his left hand, suppressing his worries about handling a "wild animal," and gently scooped it up.
The orange cat wasn't heavy—not yet, at least.
It continued staring at Shade's glowing finger, but once the light faded, it didn't attempt to escape from his arms. Instead, it leaned against his chest, lightly batting at his glowing hand with its small paws, fascinated by its "new toy."
"Good girl."
Shade sighed in relief, standing up with the cat still in his arms. The young orange cat squirmed slightly but didn't struggle much.
"Not fierce at all. She's even quite well-behaved. Maybe I have a knack for making animals like me."
In good spirits, Shade was about to leave when he noticed something beneath the pipe where the cat had been lying. Holding the cat with one arm, he bent down and picked up the item. It was an old box of tarot cards.
The cards weren't particularly special—certainly not magical ones like those used in high-level rituals. They were the kind Shade had seen in taverns, simple and cheap, worth only a few pence.
Seeing nothing valuable, he slipped the cards into his pocket and carefully descended the ladder with the cat in his arms.
The big-nosed man nearly cried with relief when he saw Shade leaving with the cat.
Once out of the alley, Shade headed straight for Miss Sand Gold's house. The orange cat purred quietly at first, but then settled down, occasionally pawing at Shade's sleeve and chest without trying to escape.
Since Miss Sand Gold was willing to pay such a high price to recover her cat, she clearly wasn't poor. She lived in a quiet residential neighborhood in the south of the city, on Sandler Street, where every house had its own small garden, and each gate bore a neatly engraved nameplate.