Heather lay in her bed, feeling almost suffocated under the layers of duvet, blankets, and other fabrics that Aunt Elizabeth had conjured from the chest of drawers. “For goodness sake!” thought Heather indignantly, “I know that old people need to wrap up warm, but 14 hardly counts as old, and it’s mid-July!”
Suddenly Heather screamed. The sound was horribly muffled by the heavy hangings, and it sounded like a thin squeak piercing the deafening silence, more like a cat mewing than a scream. The back of her head was prickling horribly and her body was tingling all over, but gradually the feeling subsided, and Heather was able to curl back up and attempt to go to sleep.
She curled her tail around herself and settled down for a nice---- “TAIL?” thought Heather suddenly, sitting bolt upright. “I’ve got a TAIL?!?” She whipped around, and there it was, just as she had suspected, black and silky, curled up around her furry body—“FURRY BODY?!?!? I think it’s time I investigated this properly!” Heather thought sensibly, as she trotted off to the bathroom to find a mirror, waving her new-found tail regally in her wake. She put her front paws – yes, paws – up on the sink and peered into the foggy glass. A black furry face peered back at her and Heather whipped around to find that she was the only inhabitant of the room. Unnerved, Heather looked slowly back at the glass. The cat was still there. She snarled at the cat, and the creature simultaneously bared it’s (exceedingly sharp) teeth back at her.
Suddenly it struck her. SHE WAS THE CAT!!!!! Heather slowly touched the reflection as it reached out towards her with a tentative paw.
“Well,” thought Heather unconcernedly,” at least that’s one mystery solved. Now I can think about WHY I’m a cat!” Following these words to the letter, Heather promptly decided that the best course of action would be to find her Aunt immediately, so she trotted off in the direction of the master bedroom.

* * * * * * *

Aunt Elizabeth surveyed Heather disapprovingly over the breakfast table as she watched her dip a paw in the marmalade. “Well really Heather!” she scolded the kitten, “You may have been turned into a cat, but there is absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t eat your breakfast like an ordinary human. Just look at the mess you’re making with that marmalade!” she indicated the pool of sticky amber liquid smeared across the starched white table cloth. Heather guiltily drew her paw out of the marmalade, and, instead, tried the bowl of whiskas her Aunt had prepared for her. She nibbled at a salmon nugget, but her heart wasn’t really in it. She was still in shock over the improbable ancestry that Aunt Elizabeth had explained to her. She thought back to early morning when the subject had first been broached…
* * * * * * *
As the small black kitten jumped softly onto Aunt Elizabeth’s bed, and gently patted her face with a silky paw, the sleeper groaned, and, seeing the kitten, passed a hand over her eyes in despair. “Those blasted Ancients! I made sure to tell them to wait until she knew, and now they trigger it on the first day she spends here. THE FIRST DAY!!! I don’t know what they thought they were thinking of!” she mumbled incoherently, stumbling from her bed – her feathery white hair more flyaway than ever. She picked Heather up, and stroked her absentmindedly. “Well then, whatever should have happened hasn’t and we’re stuck with you like this, before I’ve even had time to contact Doris. Oh well, you come with me and we’ll find you something to eat.”
On the way to the kitchen her Aunt had explained how, every two generations, the oldest girl in the family was blessed with the power to transform into a cat at will. She was the seventh occurrence of the prophecy, and so Heather (the eighth) was required to fulfill even greater demands. The original prophecy stated that this miracle would occur eight times and then that the last girl would travel on a quest to free the Ancients (who had bestowed this gift upon the family) from their imprisonment, and return them to where they belonged.
No one knew what the Ancients looked like, or where they were, but one of the offspring of two ancients (known as ‘Doris’) lived in Sydney, and had instructed Elizabeth to bring Heather to her as soon as she began to be able to operate her power, to be trained in how to release the Ancients. The Ancients had been imprisoned by Bastet, the cat goddess, as
she had taken offence at the gift, regarding it as mockery to her own kind.
But there was one hitch. If Heather failed to free the Ancients, the world would be thrown into chaos, and Heather would be pitched into the Ancients’ prison for eternity…

Heather couldn’t believe how quickly it had all happened. Less than 24 hours ago, she was unaware of her unique powers, and now here she was, about to be trained in the very first art!
Aunt Elizabeth had taken her to the nearest portkey (in a particularly ugly fountain next to the Walled Garden) and she had experienced her first ‘Improbable Journey’. It had not been an experience she was eager to repeat. The jolting whirl of the fountain almost made Heather sick, and she felt like she’d left her stomach back on the ground and that with every second, it was dropping further away from her.
They’d entered the utterly normally skyscraper – strangely unnoticed by the rest of the city’s population – and went up in the lift to the top floor. As the doors swished shut, Heather wondered if, next time she stepped out onto the streets full of ordinary people leading ordinary lives, she might not feel so at home, after what was about to happen to her in this mysterious building.
Suddenly the doors slid open – Heather jumped. They had reached the top of the skyscraper without her even noticing the lift had started. She stepped shakily out and peered around herself. The carpeted, muffled room she was in was not unlike the waiting room at the dentists, or the doctors, and Heather immediately began to feel more at home, although she clutched Aunt Elizabeth’s hand tightly.
Her relation gave her hand a comforting squeeze as the next set of doors opened and they walked into yet another room to confront the creature they’d come to see. But as Heather entered the cluttered office, she stared. She’d thought that Doris was not really a human, she hadn’t expected this stout old woman, with slightly greying hair and dark glasses! In fact, as she grew accustomed to the darkness of the office (a large portion of light was blocked out by the teetering piles of books and papers), she began to feel more and more at ease. But, as Doris bustled around, making tea for everyone, Heather had noticed flaws in her body. Was it just her imagination, or was that a faint covering of soft golden fur over the woman’s face? Were her ears completely upright and her canines slightly protruding?
But Heather shook her head and smiled to herself. What had she expected? Certainly, she’d not expected Doris to be like this, but what did it matter? After all, she resembled a human being so much more than Heather could ever have imagined. She turned her attention back to Doris who had begun to talk. “Well Heather m’dear, as you can see with the 7 arts and all the planning and training required for you to start on your quest we have no time to spare! So I suggest we begin right this minute with the first and most basic of the 7 arts, base transformation.” Heather opened her mouth to ask a thousand questions, but Doris simply waved her away and continued talking. “Now, can you remember what it felt like when you first transformed?” Heather nodded nervously. “You must try and recreate that feeling as best you can. Have a try, and don’t worry if it’s hard – when your aunty here first came to me, it took her over a month to master it!”
Elizabeth nodded nostalgically and Heather closed her eyes, and imagined the prickling she had felt the previous night. Suddenly she jumped. There it was! The back of her head was tingling uncomfortably and she opened her eyes in triumph, only to discover that she was still herself, although while she didn’t remember standing up, she was crouched on all fours on the ground. Flushing, Heather clambered to her feet, and threw herself back down on her chair.
However, while Heather was disappointed with her effort, both Aunt Elizabeth and Dora were standing with their mouths open, looking absolutely flabbergasted. “Well!” breathed Doris, collapsing into her chair. “That was absolutely astounding! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody grasp that concept so easily!”
Heather looked from one to the other, thoroughly confused. “But I didn’t transform! When I opened my eyes I was still me!”
“Well,” interjected her Aunt – “You came pretty close! Just keep your eyes shut for a few more seconds, and I’m sure you’ll be there!”
“Try again now Dearie!” added Doris, “ You have such talent! I expect it comes from being the 8th, but this really is extraordinary!”
Heather closed her eyes again and waited for the familiar prickling. It was taking a long time in coming to be sure, and her trance-like state kept being disrupted by muffled screams and so forth, but Heather was concentrating so deeply that she barely noticed and paid no heed to what was happening
around her. She was focusing her whole concentration on transforming, and the tingling sensation but, after a long time, even she began to doubt it was ever going to come.
But there it was. Finally. Heather settled herself down to some serious transformation, but the screams were coming louder and louder. Before they had seemed muffled but now they were much, much clearer. Suddenly, Heather realized that the screams were coming from her own mouth. She tried – too late - to open her eyes, but then her vision exploded with white hot pain, and she sank gratefully into unconsciousness.

Heather opened her eyes and gasped as the movement triggered a searing pain, a white hot line from her right leg, up her spine, right through to the backs of her eyeballs, which felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets. She tried to sit up, and the pain intensified, forcing her back onto the cold cobbled floor of a cottage, where chilly draughts played across her face.
Heather’s arms were not tied, though she felt sure that her captor was aware of her temporary immobility, and simply felt that there was no need for ropes.
However, as strength returned to her, Heather turned around and spotted a note pinned to the cottage rafters. She eventually managed to retrieve the note after many attempts and read it. Her desperation at being entirely alone increased with every word. The message read, simply, but ominously:
‘Rescue the Ancients, and your Aunt, and the half-breed will be lost to you forever.’
Heather shivered, and suddenly the lonely old cottage seemed even less welcoming. Swiftly Heather considered her options. She could either believe the message and return home or… Heather sighed. There was nothing for it but to go and rescue Elizabeth and Doris herself. She wondered what the best course of action would be and decided to transform, so as to be able to travel more easily. She shut her eyes and waited…
To any spectator, she would have looked most peculiar: scrunched up on the floor, eyes tightly shut, brow furrowed in concentration. Then suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the girl sprouted silky black fur and a tail, and a black kitten was curled up on the floor – sound asleep. It got up, stretched, yawned widely, and trotted off into the big outside world.
* * * * * * *
Heather was exhausted. Fatigue coursed through her limbs, and her tail hung limply between her legs. Shefelt defeated. It had taken her the whole day to reach the nearest village, and she was still no closer to finding Doris and Elizabeth, imprisoned wherever they were.
She curled up under a car and thought, long and hard. Her philosophising was suddenly interrupted by the humming throb of an engine. Heather jumped to her feet and, on a sudden impulse, jumped into the car boot, which lay slightly ajar. However, the boot slammed shut as she jumped in. Heather suddenly realized what she had just done. From the conversation she could hear in the front, it soon became apparent that the family was going to America for a month. Heather almost fainted with shock. She was being taken to America, and Aunt Elizabeth could be anywhere from Argentina to Zimbabwe. In short, there was a pretty small chance that the prisoners would be in her current destination out of all the possible places.
But, despite the obvious disadvantages of the trip, Heather had to admit that the villains she was dealing with were probably not entirely human, and they would probably have tried to take their captives to the most distant place they could think of – also the hardest for Heather to get to. In that respect, America was not such a bad place to start.
She settled down in the car, and promptly fell asleep and she prepared herself for the long trip. After all, it wouldn’t do to get jet-lag!
* * * * * * *
Heather awoke just as the family was taking their luggage out of the car. She looked at them with big doleful eyes, and was rewarded with a grumpy scowl from the driver and excited coos from the children.
Heather (feeling that her previous plan was not going to work) slipped onto the plane with passengers, and curled up on an empty seat. She only woke up as the plane was taking off and felt an ominous feeling that she was being watched. She opened one eye sleepily and saw a crowd of blue uniformed staff crowded around her, all grinning widely.
A blond-haired engineer, with a cleanly shaven face, picked her up under one arm and stroked her affectionately. “Quite the little stowaway, aren’t we!” he smiled jovially, “We’ll take you down to the mess, and you can stay there till we arrive, right pussy?” Heather purred her approval and she trotted off behind the joking engineer – feeling that things certainly could have gone much worse!
She curled up in the mess, surrounded by adoring staff and, all too soon for Heather, the journey was speedily over. She scampered happily off down the gangway, yowling her thanks back to the crew and Hans (the blond-haired engineer) and wandered out of the station, to a deserted area of coastline. She stared out to sea, wondering where her Aunt was when suddenly she saw a sign-post, indicating the island of Alcatraz, an old prison which had fallen out of use, and was now just a ruin.
Heather stared out to sea, and caught a glimpse of the black island, covered with cawing rooks and crows.
Suddenly out of the corner of her eye, Heather glimpsed a sudden movement on the island. She whipped around, but too late, all seemed peaceful.
There it was again!
As Heather surveyed the island once more, an ominous chill went down her spine. Unused though the poster assured her the prison was, Heather had a horrible feeling that in the last few days, the inescapable prison may have been called out of retirement to hold two very special prisoners…

At first, Heather was all for leaping straight into the sea there and then and tentatively dipped in a paw. She realized that, in her transformed state, she wouldn’t be able to bear getting drenched and snatched her paw away, sharpish. Sighing, Heather realised that this wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. For the first thing, even in her human form she wouldn’t be able to cope with the choppy waves so she’d have to find a boat and probably have to stow away. Luckily though, before Heather could become too immersed in her own problems, she spotted a small rowing boat, floating unoccupied in the harbour. She managed to transform inconspicuously (a small miracle!) and, jumping into the boat, set out for the forbidding island prison.
On the way there, however, Heather began to have doubts about what she was doing. She had stolen a boat! What if her Aunt wasn’t even on the island? What would she do when she returned the boat to its owner? Say she had just taken it out for a pleasure ride? She didn’t have any money on her – what if the owner demanded compensation for unauthorised use of their boat?
But as she neared Alcatraz, these qualms were dismissed as movement appeared more and more frequently on the island, now Heather was starting to wonder what on earth she was going to do when she got there. She had simply come here on impulse, without really considering any other factors in the equation other than herself, her aunt and Doris.
As Heather neared the island, everything went deathly still, apart from the endless sloshing of the waves becoming ever stronger. The hull of the boat bumped against a rocky outcrop and Heather (tying up the boat with an old rope she’d discovered in the bottom) set foot apprehensively onto the island. Already, it was clear to see why nobody imprisoned in Alcatraz had escaped and lived. The daunting rock face that Heather was now confronted with was almost sheer.
Heather gazed up at the rock face, feeling queasy, it would not be a nice feeling to be trapped up there. Beginning to feel desperate Heather wondered what to do. She tried climbing several times, all in vain…
Aha! She had it. The small black kitten climbed the cliff with typical feline ease, and Heather continued towards the dark forbidding building which had appeared on the horizon.
* * * * * * *
As the derelict prison drew closer, Heather began to wonder what she was actually going to do when she found out where the prisoners were (if they were even on this island out of the wide, wide world) - and what was guarding them! She had simply come here on a whim, without really thinking it through. She supposed that she might be able to return in the boat, but she didn’t even know if Doris and her Aunt would have enough energy to transform to climb down the rocky face.
But Heather steeled herself and carried on towards the prison. She had started this so now she was going to finish it. The tall iron gates drew closer and closer, but they couldn’t keep out the kitten, who hopped through a loop in the ornate and once majestic entwining metal.
Gazing around the prison, she was surprised how little security there was. Remembering her last history lesson, Heather supposed that not many prisoners would have been able to get past the guns of the warders and the electric fences there had been, let alone the cliffs which encircled the island.
But suddenly a figure remarkably like Aunt Elizabeth ran out of the buildings towards Heather and hugged her tightly. Heather hugged her back, bemused. Why would Aunt Elizabeth have rushed out and had time for a hug? And where was Doris? Only the second question managed to find its way out of Heather’s mouth. Aunt Elizabeth frowned and scolded Heather “Oh for goodness sake, we’ve got to get out of here! Don’t worry about the half-breed – she can look after herself. Now come with me, I know where they keep a helicopter we can escape in”
She seized Heather’s wrist with a grip of steel and pulled. But then suddenly there was nothing left to pull as a diminutive coal-black kitten bounded towards the cells. The woman screamed with rage, and gave chase, although she was nowhere near to catching the kitten.
Heather was soon out of breath as she escaped from the Aunt Elizabeth imposter. Or at least, that’s what she thought it was. Aunt Elizabeth was caring and kind – and she would have wanted to free Doris. And, by the way she’d been talking about knowing where the helicopter was, this Aunt Elizabeth had been given free run of the island rather than locked up in a cell. And Aunt Elizabeth didn’t try to stop
you from getting away when she was leading you to a route of escape.
Heather charged into the nearest cell which, remarkably, contained both Doris and Aunt Elizabeth. Heather was just starting to wonder why the door was open and the two old ladies were making such strange signs at her when she was lifted off her feet by two none-too-gentle hands, and brought face to face with a burly prison officer. “Well, well, well what have we got here?” he sneered, “A pretty little pussy come to free some prisoners. Well I’m afraid that this time you’ve run out of luck little pussy…”

Heather clawed at the man’s face, leaving a series of thin red lines across the whole of his face. He cried out in pain, dropping Heather, and ran out of the room, clutching his face.
Heather ran to her Aunt and Doris, gnawing through the thick ropes binding them to the wall. Immediately the two women transformed: Elizabeth into a sleek Siamese, Doris a tawny lioness, with rippling fur and razor-sharp claws. Heather supposed that it must be a side-effect of being half-ancient. The three feline companions slipped past the injured guard without trouble – a glare from the lioness sent him away, whimpering. In fact it almost seemed like they were going to make it, but suddenly the Aunt Elizabeth imposter blocked their way. Looking grim, Aunt Elizabeth transformed. Doris and Heather quickly followed suit so that all three of them confronted her.
“Heather!” announced the real Aunt Elizabeth, glaring at the other woman, “I want you to meet your grandmother, Victoria Simmons, my twin sister.”
Heather stared at the two women, side by side. Everything was starting to slot into place. Her mother, so reluctant to talk about her childhood, why she had never seen her grandmother…
“Victoria was so jealous when I found out that I had been bestowed with the gift that she vowed to spend her whole life opposing me, to force me to give her my gift. Of course this is impossible, but Victoria can be very stubborn when she wants to, can’t you?”, Aunt Elizabeth continued, turning to her sister, who was staring at Heather in wonder.
“My very own granddaughter!” she gasped, amazed “Heather---“
“You’re not my grandmother!” declared Heather heatedly, “You deserted my Mum and you’re a kidnapper and imposter!” and with that, Heather dashed off towards the rowing boat with Elizabeth and Doris following chase, leaving Victoria standing stupidly in the prison courtyard.
“Heather, you have to listen,” began Elizabeth as the boat started.
“Oh no I don’t!” snarled Heather furiously, “While you were having that touching family reunion, we could have been escaping, and I don’t see what that Victoria Simmons has done to deserve my forgiveness!”
“Heather, you have to listen!” pleaded Elizabeth anxiously, “she may not be perfect--”
“You can say that again!” interrupted Heather.
Aunt Elizabeth pretended not to hear but she can be a force to be reckoned with if you get on the wrong side of her!”
“Well, if you were going to tell me that, you could have done it earlier!” snapped Heather grumpily.
Doris, who had remained silent for the duration of this argument chimed in, “I have to agree with Heather, Elizabeth. It’s too late to go and apologise now, so why don’t we just go home and forget about the whole incident.”
Aunt Elizabeth muttered something incoherent about young people these days, but none the less, she carried on rowing with even more vigour.
* * * * * * *
Back in Aunt Elizabeth’s mansion, Heather’s holiday was almost over. “Darling! You’re Mummy’s here!” trilled Aunt Elizabeth from the landing. But then her voice sank to a strangled whisper. “Heather!!!” Heather bolted down the stairs to find a dagger, plunged into the middle of a family tree.
There was blood on the blade.
Engraved in the handle was one word : ‘Victoria’
And the dagger was plunged into the name of ‘Heather Lilly Allen’.