Amara had been stuck in the body of a cat for 399 years, 23 days, and 4 hours. She knew this because counting the days down to the hour was all she could do to keep from going insane. Sometimes she killed the time by thinking about all the ways she could enact vengeance on the woman who cursed her, though she had probably lost her chance some 350 years ago. After all, real witches know immortality is a curse, not a blessing. 

            Still, Amara knew that witch Eris’ face, and if she ever saw her again, she’d be sure to claw the smug expression she remembered so unfondly right off. Eris had once been her closest friend. Together they enjoyed light terroristic spells on the local townspeople, started turf wars with other witches, and were practically inseparable. That is, until their antics started getting innocent women hanged and Eris had some sort of change of heart that Amara found, frankly, ridiculous. They’d spent years sending the townspeople catastrophic weather and dead cows. Now she feels bad? Thinking about the whole thing alone was enough to set Amara off again. Which it did, 399 years, 23 days, and 4 and a half hours later. 

            Eris told Amara it was for her own good. That someday she would learn how to care for other people, even those she saw as beneath her. And then she’d gone and turned her into a cat! Amara could not possibly understand the logic behind it. 

            “Nine lives, nine chances to reverse the curse. The ritual can only be performed on a total lunar eclipse, and requires a great sacrifice to complete,” she’d said, while Amara scrambled around on the floor in a body ridiculously foreign to her. She was tiny, furry, yet still full of that characteristic rage. “Run along now, kitty. Good luck.” Eris sneered ruefully at her as she opened the door to the little cottage they’d once shared and kicked Amara out. 

            Now, Amara was almost out of chances. She knew another eclipse was near and in all her time wandering from town to town, she’d never found someone who could understand her, let alone help her. She’d wasted eight of her nine chances attempting the ritual, but cats can’t do magic. Not in the same way humans can, anyway, so her attempts had all ended in a fizzling failure. Plenty of eclipses had also come and gone with no attempt from Amara, but she was running out of patience and she couldn’t take another few years waiting for the next one to attempt the ritual. Most of the humans she passed on the street either paid her no attention or deliberately steered clear of her, because of course she had been turned into a jet black cat with menacing yellow eyes. 

            With all this thinking about Eris, Amara had driven herself into a fit of rage she couldn’t possibly express. A bus on the street beeped loudly as it shuttled past her, shaking her back to the present. Somewhere in a generic Massachusetts town that disguised itself as quaint, she was on a dirty city street like any of the other dirty city streets she’d had the displeasure of traversing when a girl around seventeen scooped her up into her obnoxiously striped, sweater-clad arms. “Oh, look at you! You poor baby, how could someone bear to look at you and not give you a home?” the girl cooed at her as Amara stared back in shock. In her many years, never had she been manhandled quite like this.

When she got her wits about her, she started to squirm and swat at the girl. “Unhand me, heathen! Put me down this instant!” she meowed, knowing full well that she wouldn’t be heard.

The girl gasped and dropped her. Amara hissed at her as she backed away. For the first time, she got a good look at the girl’s face. If she hadn’t known any better, she’d say the girl looked like Eris. But that was impossible, because Eris was supposed to be dead and gone and certainly wouldn’t be seventeen if she was still alive. 

            The girl wore an incredulous face as she stared at the little black cat. Amara stared back, still shocked by the somewhat familiar features she saw reflected there. Finally, with wide eyes, the girl spoke. “Did you just speak to me?” she whispered, slowly crouching down in front of Amara.

In an instant, Amara stopped hissing at her, stopped hissing at the vague resemblance to her worst enemy. She didn’t know how to respond. In nearly four hundred years, no one had ever been able to understand her. It was dreadfully lonely. “You can hear me?” she replied, sitting down on the concrete and wrapping her tail around her paws. Her pulse thundered in her ears. No one had heard her voice in centuries.

            “Apparently so,” the girl replied. Amara felt an overwhelming sense of calm replace the utter shock. Her plan unfolded in her mind. Only weeks before the next eclipse, she stumbles across a girl who can hear what she’s saying. This opportunity had been practically dropped in her lap, right when she’d run out of patience. She had to play this right.

            “You need to listen very carefully,” Amara said to the girl, whose name she later learned was Eileen, though she preferred Eli. She explained the whole cat curse debacle to her, told her exactly how long she’d been stuck in this body (the count was now up to 399 years, 23 days, and 5 hours), and all of the specifics of the ritual they’d need to perform on the eclipse to free her. Almost all of the specifics, anyway. Amara didn’t think Eli would be too willing to help her if she knew she’d be sacrificed in the process. Did she feel bad about tricking her? Maybe a little, but after enough time with paws and claws instead of opposable thumbs, nothing seemed too out of line to get her body back. 

            Eli seemed all too enthusiastic to help her out, a level of enthusiasm that would have annoyed Amara if she wasn’t getting so damned desperate. She followed Eli home, listening to her ramble on about things she could not possibly be bothered to care about. Still, though, it was nice to be able to speak to someone again. 

​

***

 

            “So, you’re really a witch?” Eli asked, sitting on the edge of her bed. Amara instead settled for Eli’s windowsill. 

            Amara had entertained countless stories and questions for the last few days, trying to keep her temper under control for the sake of the ritual that was drawing closer by the day. “Well, I was. Now I’m just…this,” she said, lifting a paw, extending her claws for good measure. Of all the miseries of being a cat, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy having little murder weapons on her hands, er, paws.

            “Mom says we’re descended from a witch,” Eli said absentmindedly, standing to get something off of her desk. 

            Amara’s ears twitched. Eli’s resemblance to Eris had not been forgotten, though she had tried ignoring it. “Is that so?” 

            Eli nodded. “We have a painting of her somewhere, maybe in the attic. I remember she was pretty, but I haven’t seen the painting in years.”

            “Can we go look for it?” Amara stood from the windowsill, the fur along her back raising as her heart rate quickened. 

            Shrugging, Eli waved her out of the bedroom and into the hallway. They ascended the stairs into the attic and Amara headed directly for a row of paintings along the far wall. The paintings were covered by old swaths of canvas, and some had bits of paint or dirt on them. Each painting looked heavier than the last. She waited impatiently for Eli to catch up and start revealing them. She waved her hand through the cobwebs, coughing as she moved the dusty cloths away from the paintings. At the end of the stack was a face Amara could never forget. Her ears flattened against her head as she backed away from the painting, hissing.

            “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Eli asked, her eyebrows drawn. She put the cloth back on the painting of Eris and crouched down in front of Amara. 

            “That’s her. That’s the witch who cursed me! You’re related to Eris!” Amara already realistically knew this, of course, but to have it confirmed struck fear in her. She had no real idea how Eris’ curse worked. It was entirely possible that in sacrificing her descendant, the ritual would fail. 

            “Gee, that’s an odd coincidence, don’t you think?” Eli seemed unfazed as she slumped back to sit on her heels. Amara kind of respected the way nothing really bothered Eli, but now she needed her to understand how bad this could be.

            “An odd coincidence? Are you kidding me? This could ruin everything!” 

            “I doubt it, Amara. If my relative did this to you, then I’d like to help make it right,” Eli smiled at her. That’s right, Eli didn’t know that Amara had kind of deserved the curse. What? She could admit she was being a total witch. Still, she was seriously over the whole learn your lesson thing. 

            “Do you think that’s why you can hear me?” Amara asked, willing herself to calm down as she flattened herself against her front paws. The plan had to move forward despite her doubts. She was out of time and almost out of chances. An opportunity like Eli would not come again.

            Eli made a face like she was thinking and tapped her finger against her chin while she glanced back in the direction of the painting. “It’s possible. Would make more sense than any of our other theories,” she said.

            “What other theories? The one about you being crazy?” Amara asked, a slight glint in her yellow eyes. 

            “Or the one that you finally lost it.” They glared at each other for a moment before Eli burst into laughter. Amara almost cracked, but she hadn’t really had a reason to laugh in nearly 400 years. “Come on, let’s go. I’ve gotta study for a midterm,” Eli said, leading Amara back down the stairs and closing the attic door behind them, the painting of Eris merely a strange coincidence.

​

***

​

            “The eclipse is in a few days, you know,” Eli said, turning around to glance at Amara who had once again found her place on the windowsill. She had resisted picking up most feline habits she deemed as being beneath her, but this was one she admittedly enjoyed.

            “Oh, I’m well aware.” Amara was up to 399 years, 40 days, and 6 and a half hours. Though she would never admit it, staying with Eli the past few weeks had been…pretty nice. Better than the street, anyway. She talked a lot, sure, but she also gave Amara real human food she had so dearly missed during her years of finding scraps near trash bins. For all her weird quirks that drove Amara to the brink of losing her mind, Eli could cook damn well. 

            Embarrassingly, Amara was especially grateful for the blanket she’d put on the windowsill for her. No, she was not your common house cat and being treated like one was simply insulting. But, well…it was comfortable. At least temporarily. Maybe, just maybe, if the ritual didn’t work, she wouldn’t need to go back to the street for a while. 

            “Are you nervous?” Eli asked, rolling her desk chair over to the window to peer out into the night sky above the little black cat’s head. The moon had already risen, bathing Amara in a cool, silvery glow. She stretched out her paws and basked in it. Witches, even former ones, loved the moon.

            “I’m never nervous.” She was lying, of course. Amara had been horrendously nervous every time she’d attempted the ritual before, stupidly wasting eight of her nine chances before ever really having a plan in place for it. Her desperation left her careless. If they failed now, not only would she never return to her human body, but she’d be truly cursed to immortality. 

            “We need to go shopping tomorrow, to get the last of what we need. You’re sure you’ve figured out exactly how this works?” Eli prodded. Eris, in all her wise ways, didn’t exactly leave instructions for how the ritual worked. Amara had tried countless combinations of curse breaking rituals with whatever rodent or small animal she could get her claws on that she had learned as a witch, and thought maybe she’d narrowed it down. There was really no time to dwell on it.

            Amara was miffed. “Of course I’m sure. I’m a fantastic witch.” 

            Eli smirked. “You’re a cat, actually.”

            Hissing, Amara jumped from the windowsill to dart under Eli’s bed and sulk. She was right, of course. But it still cut her deep to acknowledge that she hadn’t successfully cast a spell in nearly 400 years. A part of herself was missing.

            “Aw, come on Amara. Soon you’ll be human again and then you can teach me how to be a witch, too,” Eli said, crouching on the floor next to her bed and peering at the cat. She was beaming, and the red-hot glow of her enthusiasm was enough to burn Amara. Was this guilt? She’d never felt anything like it before. 

            Making her way out from under the bed, she sat next to Eli who was still crouching on the floor. “Eli, I haven’t told you the whole truth,” she began, her pulse picking up as she considered if she was really doing this. “This ritual will require you to make a sacrifice,” she continued, slowly, as if feeling out each word before she uttered them. 

            Eli sat back on her heels and cocked her head to the side. “What kind of sacrifice?”

Amara couldn’t fully part with her last chance to become human again. She had to lie. This was the best warning she could give the girl, and it had to be enough. “I’m not sure. I just know it requires you to sacrifice…something.” The lie stung as it left her mouth, a poison to her psyche. Having been cursed in the first place for being a less than stellar person, Amara couldn’t seriously hold herself to some moral standard now, right? She’d served her sentence. She was done. 

            They sat in silence for a few moments while Eli considered this. “Well, that’s alright. I have a good feeling about this! I’m sure whatever it is, I can manage it.”

Amara was stunned. This kindness was like none she had ever been faced with before. Her eyes prickled at the corners and she realized she was crying. She didn’t even know cats could cry. Avoiding eye contact with Eli, she nodded and slipped back under the bed, placing her head on her paws and thinking about what she had to do. When Eris had said she had to make a sacrifice, she didn’t expect it to become so personal. 

 

***

​

            399 years, 45 days, and 10 hours after she’d been cursed, Amara stood in a clearing in the forest behind Eli’s house. The beginning of the eclipse was only an hour or so away, and they’d gathered everything they’d needed. Amara watched while Eli drew an impeccable circle in the stony soil with chalk and clay. In straight lines criss-crossing each other inside the circle, she dropped cat grass and rosemary, with dried nettle following its outer curve. 

            Watching the girl lay the groundwork for her own death was an irony not lost on Amara. If she had known what she was really signing up for in helping her… No, Amara shook her head and gazed at the circle. She would not be consumed by a simple human emotion such as guilt. Eli was delivered to her as an end to her sentence, a gift from those above letting her know she was forgiven. Maybe from Eris herself. That’s what she had to tell herself, anyway. 

            Eli stood up straight and placed her hands on her hips, admiring her handiwork. She was wearing the same ridiculous sweater from the day they met, though Amara doubted it was purposeful. Seeing those stupid stripes made her feel nauseous. Clapping her hands together, Eli shook Amara from her thoughts and turned towards where she was gracefully poised on a rock that was slightly elevated above the clearing. 

            “Are you ready?” Eli didn’t look worried.

            Amara was not, in fact, ready. This was her ninth chance, the last one she’d get. Though she was pretty sure she’d gotten the ritual right this time, she would never know for sure until the curse was broken. They’d spent an hour transcribing incantations onto paper for Eli to read off of, as Amara was no longer sure she had any capacity for magic. Someone descended from Eris, she reasoned, should be able to pull it off. 

            Eli was still waiting for her response. For the last time tonight, Amara considered telling her the truth about the ritual. The thought was fleeting. She turned to face Eli and nodded. 

            They took their positions at opposite sides of the chalk circle. With a thumbs up, Eli smiled reassuringly. Amara’s chest hurt. There was a folded piece of paper in Eli’s pocket that she pulled out and began reading from. Amara watched every move as if it was in slow motion, as if she could really stop time if she needed to. 

            The air around them began to shimmer and fizzle as the trees started to shake. The earth around them rattled, a shaky cry. Eli gasped, taking only a moment to recover before she continued reading in a now warbled voice as Amara remembered curse reversal was always rather violent. 

            The circle lit up from the center, slowly expanding out to the edges. The wind picked up suddenly, blowing outwards from the middle. Eli’s curly hair whipped around her face as Amara squinted to see her. She looked to the skies to see the full moon partially obscured, as she expected. Nine lives, nine chances. Time was up.

            Amara’s ears twitched as she recognized the end of the incantation. Eli’s arms were thrown forcibly out to the side as her feet lifted from the ground. This was the sacrifice, one human body for another. Paws tingling, Amara watched Eli convulse as her own thunderous heartbeat replaced all other sounds in the glowing clearing. 

            Looking to the skies one more time, Amara could see the stars twinkling as if only at her. Tonight, she would finally get her body back. 

            No. She couldn’t do this to Eli. Whatever eternity held for her, it couldn’t possibly be worse than a mortal’s lifetime with this guilt, knowing what she’d done for a human body. The last few weeks with Eli had been nice, and that was enough. It had to be.

            Amara darted across the luminous circle, sprinting towards Eli’s body as she floated above the ground. She looked utterly lifeless, and Amara breathed a silent prayer that she wasn’t too late. She leapt up into Eli’s chest, her momentum knocking her out of the grasp of the circle. They landed a foot behind it, Amara rolling off of her. 

            Everything in the clearing froze as the ritual was interrupted. A moment later the glittering air began to pop and fizzle out, rattling the trees around the clearing as they resumed their normal, calm motions. The light in the center of the circle collapsed in on itself, sending a shockwave through the forest. 

            Amara was breathing hard, laying on her back facing the sky. 

            “Amara?” A weak voice came from a few feet away, and Amara stopped short of crying out in relief.             She turned to face Eli, needing concrete proof that she was alright. 

            Eli was blinking at her rapidly, her eyebrows drawn. 

            “Eli, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know how to explain what I’ve done…” Amara began, but Eli raised a hand. 

            “Amara, is that you?”

            Amara’s heart threatened to stop. She was too late. Eli must have been forced to sacrifice her eyesight for even attempting the ritual, Amara thought as she scrambled to understand what she had just done. Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes as she started to drag herself over to Eli’s side, only for the first time realizing how heavy she felt. Amara gasped and looked down to see human hands. 

            “Amara, you’re human!” Eli exclaimed, her excitement taking over where the weakness in her voice had been before. 

            “Wait, you’re not blind? I wasn’t too late?” Amara asked, dropping the hand she’d been looking at so incredulously just a moment before.

            “Blind? No, I feel completely fine.”

            Amara closed the rest of the distance between them and practically fell on her, hugging her tight. “Eli, you were supposed to die in that ritual. I was supposed to let you die. You were the sacrifice,” Amara stumbled over her words, practically hyperventilating. “I have no idea how it worked, but I didn’t care about breaking the curse anymore. I couldn’t live with doing that to you.” 

            Eli’s face fell, the silence periodically broken by Amara’s sobs. “Amara, that’s pretty messed up,” she finally said, holding Amara back to look at her face. “Though I’d be lying if that being a possibility hadn’t crossed my mind. I trusted you to do what you thought was right, though.” 

            “Goddess, you sound like Eris,” Amara choked out and they both started laughing, hugging each other again. 

            “Eris sounds like she was very wise,” Eli said. “So, I imagine you also didn’t tell me the whole truth about why she cursed you, right?”

            Amara didn’t hesitate to tell her the whole story, basically repenting for the person she had been before. “Still, though, I don’t understand why the ritual worked but you’re okay,” Amara said, drawing her knees to her chest. She silently observed how strange it felt to be able to do that again. 

            Eli shrugged. “Maybe sacrifice didn’t mean ‘of the human variety,’” she replied with exaggerated air quotes. 

            Amara considered this, splaying her fingers out in the grass all around them. It felt different with human hands, wonderfully cool against her skin. “Well, in saving you maybe I sacrificed my ninth chance?   That’s some backwards witch logic, but I’ll take it,” Amara guessed, laughing again. It felt so good to do it with a real voice. 

            Eli stood, holding out a hand to lift Amara from the ground. She held onto Amara’s hand and shook it. “Welcome back, Amara.” 

            She’d never felt so light. 399 years, 45 days, and 12 hours after she’d been turned into a cat for eternity, Amara could finally stop counting.