When old Agnes died, the rest of her seven did what was necessary. They buried Agnes, gathered together her books, and burned her vardo. Young Mary was surprised when Agnes’ cat heaved his impressive ginger bulk onto the oldest wicca’s cart.
“He will stay with us until we find a human seventh. Without seven the magic would be weak.”
It was almost a year later when the seven found a young whore working in a backstreet stew.
She was thin and fearful, but the magic filled her.
The ginger cat slowly faded until all that was left was his grin…