It was late summer in 1588, not long after the great battle to repel the human invaders. The humans had run back to their posh southern country with its fertile fields, and we goblins and orcs and the other assorted creatures of the Kingdom of Pelsa had gotten on with our lives in our barely hospitable land.

The last semester had ended early, as most of the students and even some of the professors had joined the army to fight the humans. We’d been away from campus for a while, and my friends and I were generally looking to get back to our classes at the University of the Northern Lights.

So in just one week more, I’d be leaving my job as a waitress at that tavern known as The Inappropriate Unicorn, and get back to my studies at the university’s College of Healing.

I had just one more year to go, unless I decided to continue on to grad school. The graduate students always looked so miserable, though, so I was leaning against continuing on. I needed to work and earn something anyway. Junior healers could make pretty good money, even if you generally started out in one of the smaller villages.

“Hey, Gharol, a cat just came in. Catch it and toss it out,” said my boss, Digits. Digits didn’t like cats, and didn’t want them in the common room. It caused trouble if one of the giant wolves came in for lunch – the cat would either cause a ruckus while escaping, or end up as a free meal, and in either case it wasn’t good for the tavern.

Digits was a human, but he’d been in Pelsa so long that everybody just considered him a goblin. He did cook the best human food in the whole kingdom. Of course, there wasn’t a lot of competition, as there were no other human cooks.

I looked into the common room, and saw the culprit -- a large black cat, with white paws. It had chosen the large armchair, and sat on it as if it were on a throne.

I’m a goblin girl, and not a tall one at that. The cat was large enough to come up to my waist if it were sitting on the floor. Perched on its throne, its eyes were level with mine.

I’m a brave goblin, though. I didn’t hesitate as I approached the cat. Its eyes tracked my movement as I walked toward it.

I went to pick up the cat, but my hands passed right through it.

“Do not touch me, peasant!” said the cat. It spoke directly to my mind. Its accent was strange and its words archaic, but I could somehow understand its meaning clearly.

I jumped back, as one does upon discovering a ghost-cat. Looking at the cat again, I could see it was slightly translucent – I could see the upholstery of the armchair though the ghost-cat. And the whole creature had a soft, grey glowing outline.

“What are you?” I asked the ghost-cat.

“I’m your ruler! Do you not know your own lord and master, humanoid scum?” it spoke back to me. “Kneel or I will teach you some respect.” Its tone was deeply unpleasant, like the voice the actors playing the evil wizards in our school plays used.

“Oh you are not our ruler!” I told the cat. “Wait until King Jend and Queen Aida hear you said that!”

“King Jend?” asked the cat, its voice slightly less sneery. “You said King Jend?”

“Yes, King Jend of Pelsa. He rules here. With his wife, of course.”

“My former apprentice now calls himself king? And he actually found a wife? How long have I been gone?” The cat started looking around the tavern more thoroughly, as if he could see the year on the walls.

Two of my orc friends from uni, Bula and Viggo, had been hanging out in the tavern. As the cat spoke those words into the minds of everybody in the room they got up and approached. They stood on either side of me, like protective bookends, as we together stared at the ghost-cat. The other patrons we had in the common room started moving behind their tables.

“What the hells is that?” asked Bula, a stylish orc girl in her last year at UNL’s Cradel College of Magic.

“I was hoping you’d know,” I told her. “I study living things. Didn’t you have a class on these dead ghost things?”

Viggo was an engineering student, so thought he knew everything. This tendency had recently been reinforced among the engineers after Viggo’s research group had unveiled their new “trebuchet” to such great effect in the battle against the humans.

“I bet it’s one of those ‘Kat’sheth’ demons that caused so much trouble,” said Viggo, as he moved in front of us, trying to act as a shield against the dangers poised by the suspected Kat’sheth. “You ladies better stand back. I’ll handle this.”

This brought the attention of the now-agitated ghost right back to the three of us.

“It’s ‘Cat-Sìth’ and you will learn to respect us,” it screeched as inky black tentacles shot out from its paws. One of the tentacles hit Viggo, and one hit me. They passed right through us. It tickled a little bit.

“Die worthless humanoid!” the cat screamed again as two more tentacles shot out from its paws. I giggled as the tickling sensation hit me again. There was no other effect.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

Most of the other patrons emerged from behind their tables. A few returned to eating their dinners.

“I don’t think that is going to hurt us, mister kitty,” I told the angry creature. “It was sort of nice though. If you need a job you could try the massage salon at The Bronze Citadel.”

“The Bronze Citadel is my impregnable fortress!” shouted the cat. “How dare you mock me!” More ghostly black tentacles show out from the cat, but these faded away before they could even tickle us. The ghost-cat covered its face with its paw.

“If you are done with trying to kill us with your tentacle-thingys now, could you maybe leave, or at least place an order?” I said, knowing how Digits got annoyed when creatures occupied tables without ordering a lot.

“I am Lothar! I rule here!” said the ghost-cat, trying again.

“Oh, the kitty thinks he is an evil wizard!” said Bula. “Oh, look who’s an evil wizard! Yes you are. You are so evil and wizardly!”

Viggo was circling the cat, occasionally poking it with a fork, and listening to the vibrations of the fork as it passed through the ghost.

“You can’t be Lothar,” I told the cat. “Lothar was an evil wizard, and anyway he’s been dead over twenty years now.”

Then it occurred to me. Maybe the cat-ghost-thing was Lothar, the now-dead wizard that used to rule the northern lands before the big orc warrior Jend and his elf girlfriend Aida freed it from his tyranny. The cat could be the ghost of Lothar. That might explain it. It was said that Lothar had been a Kat’sheth, a cat-demon disguised as a human.

“I am Lothar! I’m sure of it. But maybe I am dead. I remember I was fighting Jend, and an elf woman was there, and some wolves, and then an orc stabbed me with a sword. Then that goddess Doaris placed me in a hell.”

The ghost-cat was now pacing around the room. It jumped up to a window, and looked out on the street.

There was a call from the bar. I went to bring a pitcher of ale to a group of goblin artists, and then came back to find the ghost-cat still in the window.

“But no hell could hold me! There was a battle in the upper world, and there were these generals being thrown into the same hell I was in. And the door was open, and they weren’t expecting a cat. So I sprung out. And I ran for the light. And then I woke up in the forest.”

“As a ghost?” I just wanted to re-confirm where we were at with the discovery process.

“Yes, that seems to be what I am now,” confirmed the ghost I now assumed was Lothar.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to place an order?” I asked. Digits was behind the bar staring at me. I’d not managed to get the cat out of the tavern, but at least I could get it to place an order.

“I’m a ghost!” said the ghost-cat, as if we had not just been through that.

“Maybe just some tea then?” I offered.

“Okay, a tea,” replied the probable Lothar.

As I walked to the bar, another thought came over me.

“But can you drink it?”

The ghost-cat shook his head.

“Probably not, but tea is always nice. I was a big tea drinker when I was alive.”

“Oh, now there is something they don’t tell us about the evil wizard Lothar in school: he liked tea!” said Viggo. “Do you have other secrets you can tell us?”

“Of course. I ruled these lands for three hundred years! I am all knowing!” cackled the ghost-cat.

“Well, now you’ve got to tell us some of these secrets,” said Viggo.

The large orc student positioned the armchair next to the window, and the ghost-cat hopped down from the sill and sat himself in the center of the seat cushion.

Viggo and many of the other patrons drew up their chairs to form an attentive circle around the ghost cat.

“Who are you anyway?” asked the ghost to Viggo.

“Oh, me? I'm an engineer. One of those who designed a weapon of great power that…” began Viggo, before I cut him off. I just couldn't stand to listen to more of Viggo's stories about the trebuchet and how powerful it was during the battle and how it vanquished the humans and I just couldn't.

“Viggo here is a grad-student in engineering at the University of the Northern Lights. They built some special catapult that did well against the humans,” I explained to our translucent moggie.

“What is this ‘engineering’?” asked the ghost-cat.

Viggo started to answer, but I cut him off again

“Engineering is the study of the ancient, arcane maths in order to harness its power to build weapons of great power, or occasionally to build something useful, like indoor plumbing and toilets,” I explained, much more succinctly than Viggo ever would have.

“Are these ‘toilets’ dangerous?” asked our visitor from beyond.

“Not usually. I mean, they can be. Such as the public ones at this tavern. But generally no. Really what I meant on the weapons were things like the ‘bombs’ and the trebuchet the engineers built,” I said.

Viggo added to this. “Yes, our trebuchet took out the humans’ catapults from over 400 yards. The human’s catapults could only shoot about 300 yards, so were useless against us. Plus, instead of stones we launched ‘bombs,’ which exploded and spread fire. The humans had no chance against the might of the engineers!” said Viggo, perhaps more intensely than was strictly proper.

“Well, I think the rest of our army helped too, like us healers…” I started, but this time the ghost-cat cut me off.

“So, are you engineers rewarded for your power? Does Jend give you gold, authority, acclaim? Do you attract beautiful women with your power and might?” asked the former ruler of the land.

“Well, no. We don’t get any of those things. We are just grad students. The research counted toward our degree though, and everybody in the research group got a 20% scholarship towards next semester's tuition. The battle also counted as class credit towards our degrees, for everyone who lived, at least. The guys that died have to redo the class.”

“Pathetic. You engineers must think bigger! Demand gold and power from that bedwetter, your so-called King Jend!” cackled the ghost-cat.

“Bedwetter?” I asked, cautiously, hoping that none of the royal family would come through the door and hear.

“You heard me, peasant! Do not question what wisdom and secrets I care to share with you!”

“So you are saying that our mighty King Jend, undisputed Lord of the North, one of the most powerful sorcerers of his generation, the vanquisher or the human army, used to wet his bed?” asked Bula.

“Oh, yes! Once a week, at least! It was such a problem for the staff at my fortress. He was a large orc, even at twelve years of age. He was the only one of my apprentices that did.”

“Wow,” exclaimed the gathered crowd, as they drew closer to hear every word of the evil ghost, some even sitting on the floor.

“Oh my gods!” said Bula.

“Dead men do tell the best tales,” said an orc merchant named Ghershod, as he put his stool to the right of the armchair. He stroked his goatee as he sat down to listen.

“I always suspected that his shame from the bedwetting is part of what compelled him to lead the rebellion against me,” whispered the former Cat-Sith ruler to his growing audience, as he began to further serve up his revenge.