“Yawo, how nice it is to see you again.” Sha’ka smiled at Min-Min, who purred softly against the witch’s long, skinny legs.
Misa heaved the oar, her arms beginning to tire. It was still worth the experience. Misa never dreamed she’d ride a boat, let alone use oars. There was something quite relaxing about it. Dip, pull, lift. Dip, pull, lift. Rhythmic. Like drumbeats. “You’ve met before?”
“Once before,” Sha’ka said, running her fingers through Min-Min’s belly. “Brin and I sensed a witch in need, and when we investigated, we found this cat waiting for us.”
Misa tried not to stiffen. The night she had almost gotten caught as a witch in a purgehouse officer’s costume. Min-Min had saved her life.
“She gets around,” Misa said. “Quite friendly, I think.”
Except towar
