((A/N:actually, all of these charactors belong to me, as I invented them. But chrestomanci belongs to Diana Wynne Jones, this is purely a fan fiction, ect. In other words, weather or not this is I just wanted to say I know it is a fanfiction, and nothing more. Falalala. Read and rate, and long live DWJ.))

The cat paraded along the top of the immense, imposing brick wall; his nose offered to the sky in greating. He sniffted distainfully; his whiskers twitched, and his mouth opened a small crack, as though he wished to sample the very clouds. Unfortunately, he lacked a straw. Or evan a decent cup.

Some distance away, Mark crinkled his nose as eyes like liquid drops of chocolate peered behind thick lenses rimmed in gaudy golden frames. Ever since his sister had been named Chrestomanci, evan his dearest lilac point companion seamed to have the wonderful habbit of ignoring him. He strutted so imperviously, seemingly unaware of the potted plants he knocked off every which way, totally ignoring Mark. It wasn't fair! Just a week prior, Mark and his family had led a humble, but happy existance on a small berry farm. He had loved to charge recklassly through the fields, mindless of the thorns, thinking only of the berrys. The red, bulding berrys. It was worth every thorn twice over, evan just for one.

Evan just for one.

Mark sighed. Things would never be the same again, he knew it down the marrow of his bones.

His lilac point comapanion, currently in the process of shunning him, high up on the wall, turned his elegent,imperial face in Mark's direction. Mark sighed. he whispered the name. He'd named the cat himself. He'd loved the name. So, he'd thought, had Vapor. But everything was changing. He knew, deap down, in the pit of his stomach, he shouldn't begrudge Victoria. She couldn't help being chrestomanci. Besides, the world needed someone just like her.

She was clever. Her hands where clever as well as her mind. Evan her heart was clever. And she was beautiful, evan Mark could see that. Almost as beautiful as Vapor. She was a commanding presense, and besides, she was his sister.

But he couldn't help it. After all, he was only human. She had nine lives. He had one. He wondered then, youthful face upturned to better veiw his favorette cat, to whom he had been favorette just a week ago, if Victoria was fully human. He supposed it didn't matter. Immensely lucky was what she was, either way, or any other.