It was actually a fairly large space, for New York, but crowded with bookshelves and electronics. A pile of pillows stood in for a couch, and a round papasan chair held pride of place before the widescreen tv, though the stack of books implied other entertainment. A tall, carpet-covered climbing tree, many-ledged, took up the space before one window, and a hallway led off on the opposite side.
No cats were actually in evidence anymore. Summer shrugged. “I’ll go ahead and do the magic trick, then.” She called out, “Kitties!” and crinkled the bag a few times before opening it, and what seemed to be a thundering rush of cats poured out of every available opening.
As she knelt down in the midst of the waving tails, the clowder resolved itself into four: a brown tabby, a blue-eyed silver tabby, a tiny tortoiseshell, and a huge seal-point and white longhair. She began to distribute treats from the crinkly bag.
Loki’s jaw frankly dropped—but he quickly composed himself.
“That is the neatest piece of wizardry I have yet to see here,” he said, his voice amused. “is THAT all it takes to summon a cat?”Summer snorted into a long peal of laughter. “Oh, dear gods of hell. You think that was actual magic? Sweetie, I was making a joke.” She sealed up the bag, holding it out of reach of grasping paws. “You’ll have to find a treat Macrowafter likes, and hope he’s in hearing range, but offering treats usually works.”
“No,” Loki said, his body stiff with wounded dignity. ”it is merely a figure of speech.” He eyed the milling puddle of cats.
“What sort of ‘treats’ do felines favour, generally?”
“Oh, catnip, tuna, fish … any food he’s ever tried to steal from you is probably a good choice. I suggest buying a few different kinds and seeing which ones he devours the fastest.” Folding herself into a cross-legged position, she scooped up the tortie and upended it, petting it’s belly. The longhair checked the floor where the treats had been a few times, then padded over to Loki and began to strop the tall man’s legs, stepping on his shoes.