Sarra's Seven Cats

         Sarra stared across the dirt road to the old, rundown tower, her hazel eyes growing big with worry. Why had she promised to look after the witch’s seven cats? What had possessed her to say yes? There were seven of them in all and each was a different size and color.
         Now, it wasn’t that Sarra disliked cats- as a matter of fact she liked them quite well- but caring for an ordinary bunch of seven cats was handful enough. Imagine caring for seven witch’s cats that were twice as troublesome and even more intelligent (some more so than others) than most normal cats. And, she had to watch them for two entire weeks, perhaps longer- the witch had given her an exact time.
         Irritably, she tore herself away from the window. Why had Avelyn the witch chosen her anyhow? Their village contained plenty of folk and she could think of at least seven children who’d be eager to earn a bit of coins. Though, the village children are quite noisy, she reasoned, and not many are very responsible. Also, Avelyn had probably seen how Sarra leant down to affectionately stroke her cats whenever they wandered over. Or, perhaps she’d merely chosen her because they lived so terribly close.
         Despite the close proximity of their homes, however, they hardly knew one another. In truth, Sarra had really only seen rather brief glimpses of the woman. And, she’d passed her working out in her herb garden once or twice before and had politely called out a greeting. Avelyn had simply grunted in response.
         Sarra had grown to know most of her cats quite well, though. She’d even given them each a nick name as she was far too shy to ask for their real names. She supposed she ought to ask eventually- a couple of the names she’d come up with were less than flattering.
         From within the kitchen, a voice rang out, disrupting Sarra’s thoughts. “When did you say Avelyn was coming over?” it inquired, sounding impatient, as though the question had been repeated at least twice already. It was a voice she knew as well as her own- her mother’s.
         “Any time now,” Sarra responded, yawning widely. She’d forced herself to wake early that morning to prepare herself for when Avelyn came to show her around the tower.
         “Now remember,” her mother said in a low voice as she emerged from the kitchen, “examine everything- every corner of her tower and then report back to me.” Sarra strained herself against rolling her eyes. Her mother was absolutely one of the nosiest people she knew. The woman had to know everything about everyone and she adored gossip.
         “Why don’t you just come with me someday? Tomorrow?” Sarra suggested, quite annoyed with the task given to her.
         For a moment, her mother looked tempted by the idea, but then she hastily shook her head. “She’s probably got warding spells to keep anyone but you from getting in- and if not… well, I’m sure she has her ways of finding out who’s intruded into her home.” She shook her head rather regretfully. “No, I’m afraid you’ll have to be my eyes.” Sarra frowned. Now, on top of caring for the cats, she was given yet another chore she’d much rather not do. And she didn’t know what her mother was looking for. Surely all she’d find were odd, witch objects that neither of them knew anything about.
         Sarra’s mother, who’s eyes had flickered to the window, let out a sudden gasp of surprise. She frowned suddenly. “Oh, I do so wish those felines would stay on the witch’s property.” Sarra followed her gaze to the source of her annoyance. A smallish gray cat was setting just outside the window, staring in at them with a slightly bemused expression. She had to hold her breath in order not to giggle.
         “It’s not funny, Sarra,” her mother said, giving her daughter a pointed look. “They’re always giving me such a fright.” She wrinkled her brow. “Those aren’t normal cats. They’re very strange creatures indeed.”
         Sarra hid her smile behind a hand and said nothing. Apparently, her mother could sense her amusement anyhow for she started on a rant about how just last week, a couple of the cats had managed to sneak inside and stow away with three of her freshly baked meat pastries. “And I hope they each received a burnt tongue for their wretched act of thievery.”
         Sarra was saved from coming up with a response that would not lead into yet another rant by a knocking at the door.
         “At last she’s arrived,” her mother grumbled. “I believe a person should always arrive on time- not a moment before and most certainly not twenty minutes late. Especially when you live directly across from whom you are meeting with.”
         Ignoring her, Sarra went to the door. As if her mother was always on time!
         As she had suspected, Avelyn stood in the doorway. Her appearance was slightly disheveled- more than a couple dark strands of hair had escaped the loose bun at the nape of her neck and her dress was crumpled. The woman was young, Sarra realized with some surprise. She’d never gotten a very good look at her face before and now that she saw her, she didn’t believe Avelyn to be any older than 25 years of age.
         “Hello,” she greeted extra warmly to make up for the scowl she knew to be on her mother’s face.
         “Good morning, Sarra and Elena,” she said, her voice quiet and husky. Sarra chanced a brief look at Elena who’s expression appeared pleasantly surprised. She’d not been aware that Avelyn even knew her name.
         “Would you like to come inside?” Sarra inquired, stepping aside as if to allow her to pass. Avelyn didn’t budge.
         “No, thank you,” she responded politely. Two of her cats came to stand on either side of her- the smaller of which, a fluffy orange creature with a rather small head and a round stomach- made a move as if to take up her offer. Sarra could almost feel her mother stiffen at the sight. However, Avelyn stilled him with a slight scowl.
         The girl wondered if he’d give her such obedience. It’s not likely, she decided. Avelyn was his master and a witch- she was naught but an ordinary sixteen-year-old girl.