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The roof of the house is the tallest point I’m going to get that's close to where the chimera is.
I point and Scratch runs with me, giving me a boost up to the backyard porch ledge and then clambering up behind me as I start shimming up a pipe to reach the roof.
The tiles are slippery as hell in the pouring rain, and I feel like the cold wet blobs of water are trying to pin me down on the roof. It’s not going to be easy to stand up and jump onto my moving target.
Scratch climbs up and somehow, he can stand.
“Throw me!” I tell him.
“What?” He looks at me as if I’m insane.
I shrug at him. “I’m a cat, right? If I hit the pavement, I’ll land on my feet.”
At least, that’s how Scar tells it. According to him cats also have nine lives.
That’s not something I want to have tested right now.
He laughs at how ridiculous I’m being.
I shudder at how cold the damn rain is getting. “Do it. I need to get the nightshade into his mouth.”
He stares at me. I motion to my pouch, hoping nothing’s leaking out.
I’d hate to die because some berries got squished or something.
He picks me up and I pray he isn’t going to just drop me to my death.
The chimera hasn’t seen us up here. He’s too busy chasing his tail and our brothers.
“Do it!” I yell, knowing Scratch will be worried he’ll drop me wrong.
We’ve only got one shot at this.
I’m about to yell again when he tosses me into the air.
Everything seems to slow down around me.
I claw at the air, and then, suddenly, I’m on the chimera’s back, and I’m hanging on for dear life.
I don’t even get a second to feel relieved that I made it.
Miracle one, achieved. Ha ha ha.
So, what, dummy? Scratch’s perfect throw isn’t going to matter if you don’t get the poison into this thing’s mouth.
The second part of this plan is going to be a real pain in the neck if this monster doesn’t stop moving around as if he’s trying to shake me off.
God of Wolves, help me figure this out, please?
I pull myself up, latching my claws into the monster’s head and making him way angrier than he already was.
He shakes even harder and I slip a little before I get my grip back.
The sky above us is getting louder, thunder rumbling, ready for lightning to strike again in a minute or two.
I kind of hope he’s dumb enough to strike himself.
Maybe my nine lives will save me while he dies a gruesome death.
