“Very insightful,” Ben grunted. “Could you be a bit more precise, perhaps?”

The cat blinked. “Certainly. Watch this.”

The cat shimmered suddenly in the dark, glowing as if radioactive, and the sleek body seemed to alter shape. Ben squinted until his eyes closed, then looked again. The cat had grown. It was four times the size it had been, and it was no longer just a cat. It had assumed a slightly human face beneath cat’s ears, whiskers, nose and fur, and its paws had become fingers. It swished its tail expectantly as it stared at him.

Ben started half-a-dozen questions and gave up. “You must be a fairy creature,” he said finally.

The cat grinned—an almost-human grin. “Exactly so! Very well reasoned, High Lord!”

“Thank you so much. Would you mind awfully telling me what sort of fairy creature you are?”

“What sort? Well, um … hmmmmm. I am a prism cat.”

“And what is that?”

The grin disappeared. “Oh, I don’t think I can explain it—not even if I wanted to, which I really don’t. It wouldn’t help you to know anyway, High Lord. You wouldn’t understand, being human. I will tell you this. I am a very old and very rare sort of cat. I am but one of just a few still remaining. We were always a select breed and did not propagate the species in the manner of common animals. It is that way with fairy creatures—you have been told this, haven’t you? No? Well, it is that way. Prism cats are rare. We must spread ourselves quite thin to accomplish our purposes.”

“And what purpose is it that you are trying to accomplish here?” Ben asked, still trying to make some sense out of all the verbiage.

The cat flicked its tail idly. “That depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Oh you. On your … intrinsic self-worth.”

Ben stared at the cat wordlessly. Things were becoming a bit too muddled for him to stay with this conversation. He had been assaulted in his own home and bounced out like a stranger. He had lost his identity. He had lost his friends. He was cold and he was hungry. He felt as if any intrinsic self-worth he might possess rated just about zero.

The cat stirred slightly. “I am deciding whether or not I shall be your companion for a time,” the creature announced.

Ben grinned faintly. “My companion?”

“Yes. You certainly need one. You don’t see yourself to be who you really are. Neither does anyone else, apparently, save for me. This intrigues me. I may decide to stay with you long enough to see how it all turns out for you.”

Ben was incredulous. “Well, I’ll say one thing for you. You’re a different sort—whether cat, human, fairy, or whatever. But maybe you’d better think twice about sticking with me. You might be letting yourself in for more than you can handle.”

“Oh, I rather doubt that,” the cat replied. “I seldom encounter anything that difficult these days.”