Scar jumped down to the floor, and for a moment, I let her follow her own nose. While she sniffed and examined every corner and shadow in search of her mouse, I took the time to collect my thoughts. We were supposed to have gotten in through the front door. Now I had to recalibrate for another part of the Abbey. In all honesty, this wouldn’t have been easy for me in any building, since my sense of direction was lousy, but in the Abbey, with its black walls and secret entrances, it was especially hard. I wished Henry were here to guide me. I thought about texting him for a moment and asking him to come, but what if I lost the connection with Scar? We’d broken through the enchantments together, but if I severed the link to her now, was I sure I’d be able to make contact again? I decided I would only take the risk if I had no other choice. Right now, there was no need to alter the plan. I had to try on my own.
Scar. Find door for Mommy.
Scar had been sniffing around a few barrels and boxes. This room was used as a cellar. The pungent aroma of old brandy filled my nose, temporarily blocking out all other scents, and I wondered just how much alcohol the family kept down there and how old this stuff was. I was willing to bet it was the good quality brandy rich families had. Lucky for the General. Lucky for the mouse.
Scar sneaked out from behind one of the larger barrels and crept along the wall until she found a door. This time, it was cracked open just a fraction. She pushed her nose through the opening and squeezed outside.
Scar, find stairs.
Ever so deftly, Scar raced along the dark corridor, keeping instinctively low to the ground. She soon reached a short flight of stairs that led up to a higher floor. I still had no idea where she was, since one corridor looked pretty much like another.
Scar sniffed the air. Hmm. Apparently, the General had eaten chicken for dinner. I could smell the roasted skin as if I was right there. And then a lightbulb went off over my head. During my stay at the Abbey, I’d been limited by my own senses and had stumbled about in the dark, unable to get my bearings or find my way from one room to the next. Scar had a natural advantage I’d never had: her sense of smell. The dining room and kitchen were on the same floor as the study. If Scar could find her way there, finding the study would become infinitely easier. At least that’s what I hoped.
Scar, find chicken.
Her sudden joy told me this was a command after her own heart. She raced along, stopping every so often to sniff the air, making sure she was still on the scent. Some of the doors she passed were open. I wondered if I would recognize any.
Scar, look inside.
Every time I asked her to, Scar would stop to stick her head inside, but her growing frustration made me realize I was slowing her down. This was her area of expertise. I needed to stop being a backseat driver and trust in her abilities. I stopped second-guessing what she was about and let her go off on her own.
Onward she went, joyfully sniffing the air as she detected the invisible trail of deliciousness unwittingly left by the chicken. As she turned into the next corridor, the chicken odor intensified. Dead ahead, I spotted a room with double doors, and I instinctively knew she’d found the correct place. Scar did too, and she was about to run triumphantly inside when she stopped in her tracks, her right paw suspended in midair. There was a new scent on the air, one of redwood and wild sage. She didn’t like it one bit. Neither did I.
What is it? I whispered, as if I could be heard outside Scar’s head, though I knew that was silly.
Scar inched forward and peered through the tiny crack in the double doors. At first, I couldn’t see a thing, but then a pair of soft velvet slippers walked around the kitchen island. I heard a slight scraping on the stone floor as a stool was dragged from the counter, and then I watched as the slippered feet planted themselves on the stool. My heart sank. What was the General doing up at this hour?
Come away, Scar. Don’t be seen.
She slipped back into the shadows and trotted silently down the hall.
My heart was racing. I reasoned the General had probably woken up for a nighttime snack or something. Stuff like that happened all the time. I hoped and prayed he would soon go back to bed. In any case, if we were silent, it shouldn’t matter. If all went well, Scar would be in and out without him ever knowing she was there at all.
In the meantime, we still had a study to find. I thought I recognized a few of the family portraits and sighed with relief when, after turning the next corner, Scar found the Abbey front door.
Good girl, Scar. Mommy’s so proud of you. Sorry about the chicken. Mommy has treats.
I sensed her tail twitch in pleasure, but then she soldiered on.
Keep going, last door.
When Scar reached the end of the corridor, she looked up. There, just as Henry had told us, was the portrait of the general elf, dressed in his purple-and-gold uniform. His disapproving eye glared down at us, or so it seemed to me. I’d heard some pictures were haunted and prayed that wasn’t the case here. Henry would have mentioned if they were, or at least I hoped he would.
The door to the study was closed.
Torhtlic duguð.
This time, the spell worked, and the door swung open. Scar looked over her shoulder, checking the coast was clear. All was silent, and she slipped inside.
I was a little taken aback when Scar began to look around. With a name like the General, I half expected the study to be an exercise in discipline, with highly polished surfaces, clean lines, closed drawers, and everything in its proper place, all tidy and neat. I was not prepared for the Aladdin’s cave that confronted me. Volumes of books were scattered on every surface. There were jars of herbs and pickled-like somethings I had no desire to examine more closely. I even recognized a small vial of confusion oil from our shop, sitting on a shelf. That explained a lot. Papers and journals were strewn on the floor, like someone was searching for something, and if it weren’t for the layer of dust on some of the books, I’d have thought he’d just been burgled.
The General’s housekeeping shortfalls were not my concern.
In the corner to the left of an open fireplace was an armchair. It was the only clean spot in the room, and the only thing besides it was a picture of his wife, only she looked much older than I was used to, so I guessed it had been taken just before she died. I would have liked to examine it properly, but now wasn’t the time.
Desk. Toilet paper. Hurry.
Scar leapt across the room, landing on the General’s desk in a single bound. The scroll was here all right. There was just one problem. Which one? There were several scroll-like documents, some covered in text, others depicting hieroglyphic-like drawings, which meant nothing to me at all. At my command, Scar quickly examined each one. They all looked so similar, with archaic curly scripts that made them difficult to read. I noticed one of them was illustrated with tiny warriors, armed with bows and arrows and spears, reminding me of the stylized wall paintings I’d once seen in a book about Egyptian tombs. But that wasn’t all. Midway down the parchment, a figure stood alone with his arms raised above his head and hundreds of small figures around him were running away, leaving their weapons abandoned on the ground. This had to be it! What else could have made the warriors drop their weapons and flee in confusion if not a spell of repulsion?
Scar. Scratch bag. Powder.
Scar sat back on her bottom and cocked a rear leg up to her neck, like she was about to scratch her ear. Two tugs later and the loosely tied ribbon came undone, landing near the edge of the General’s desk. Then she started scratching and tearing at the opening to the pouch.
Open bag. Use claws. No eat, taste bad.
Her cub nails were small and clumsy, not only marking the surface of the desk but making tiny scratches in the wood stain. I hardly dared breathe, afraid she might be overheard.
In no time at all, the pouch was open just enough to free some of the powder inside. Gently, she picked it up between her teeth and dropped the pouch on the scroll. A little fell out, and she nudged the scroll with her nose. Deeming it light enough to carry, she caught the edge of her scroll in her teeth.
Carry. No tear. Good girl. Bring to Mommy.
Her tail wagged with pride, and she was about to jump down to the floor when I heard footsteps just outside.
Scar! Hide!
I sensed a flash of panic, and then Scar jumped back across the table and turned this way and that, unsure of what to do. The scroll was still in her mouth, and I felt her confusion.
Under the chair, now!
With clearer instructions, Scar leapt off the desk and landed under the chair, just as the General turned on the light. He carried a mug of something in his hand and was rubbing his eyes with the other. I prayed it wouldn’t be long before he left to go back to bed.
I watched as he slid behind the desk, putting down his mug and turning on his table lamp. And then he froze. Horrified, I realized he was staring right at the pouch Scar had left on the table.
Quick as a flash, the General opened one of the drawers in the desk, pulling out his wand. In his hurry, he accidentally knocked his drink over his precious scrolls.
“Confound it,” he cried, momentarily distracted.
This was our chance.
Run, Scar, run!
With the scroll still caught in her teeth, Scar bolted for the door. Though it was weighed nothing, it was still big and bulky, and the poor cub almost tripped over her tiny feet, but bless her brave soul, she refused to let it go.
Zap! Zap!
Angry red blasts of magic came thick and fast, barely missing Scar each time.
Once at the door, Scar looked back over her shoulder. Furious, the General jumped out from behind the desk, knocking over his chair in the process and losing his balance. It was just as well because another blast of magic barely missed her head. Scar yelped in anger and then ran off as fast as she could, the General now inches behind her.
Zap! Crash!
With no light to guide him, the General shot blast after blast into the dark, smashing picture frames and blasting chunks of marble from the wall. The General might have been old and slower, but his anger seemed to spur him on, and he remained just feet behind. Scar did as best she could, but the large scroll kept tripping her up and slowing her escape. She just couldn’t shake him off.
When another bolt of red magic barely missed her head, my heart stopped, terrified. If she died, I would never forgive myself.
Come on, baby! Find Mommy!
Down the stairs Scar ran, along the corridor and into the cellar. With a giant leap, she soared from the door to the table, and pushing off her hind legs, she jumped onto the open sill of the basement, reaching it just as the General burst into the room.
She tried to wriggle through the window, but the scroll got wedged in the grill.
Scar struggled, tugging as best she could to release the tangled parchment.
The General aimed more carefully this time, as if he were sighting down the long barrel of an elephant gun.
“Now I’ve got you, you little monster.”
Scar leapt into the air. I saw a dazzling flash of red light. And then everything turned black.