Nightwalker (working title)
an excerpt

“Disgusting habit,” it murmured, nosing the wooden tube that still lay on the table from the night before. Nox almost dropped the cigarette. “What – ”
“It’s a disgusting habit,” repeated the cat. It was noticeably bigger than it was previously. “You spend the entire day, being a disreputable alchemist’s errand boy, inhaling gunpowder and other smelly things – is that ground-up frog? And you come back and breathe in some more garbage.” Nox stared stupidly at the cat.
“You’re – you talk?”
It licked its nose and leapt down, waving its tail. “Cats don’t talk,” it said. “Don’t be ridiculous.”