My heart literally stopped. I could see nothing. I strained my ears, hoping against hope for a sound, a whimper, anything that would tell me Scar wasn’t dead.
Had I killed her?
She was just a cub after all. Had this all been too much for her? Had I taken her out too soon? Before she was ready? What in Hades had I been thinking?
The enormity of what had just happened was sinking in when the faint smell of root beer teased my nose. I sat up straight and was about to remove my hood to figure out where the smell was coming from, when I saw a pair of bright eyes. And then I heard a trill-like chirp.
It was Scar, and she was alive!
It was odd though. A pair of eyes loomed above her, looking down. Scar twisted and turned, and I realized she was tangled in a witch hazel shrub, a few feet away from the Abbey window. That’s why I could smell root beer. She must have landed in it when she leapt to her freedom. The lights above her were the startled eyes of a barn owl, looking down at her from its perch somewhere high up on the Abbey.
My baby was alive, and right now, that was all that mattered. I clapped my hands with joy and relief.
Scar. Scroll to Mommy.
Scar turned herself right side up and backed carefully out of the shrub, wriggling until she was free.
The scroll was still caught up inside the lower branches. She nipped the end of it in her teeth, and after a few gentle tugs, she managed to pull it out. We both froze again when we heard a great lock being unbolted somewhere inside. Any moment now, the General would appear from the other side of the Abbey, looking for his scroll and angry as hell.
Run, Scar. Run now!
Scar bolted so fast she threw me off-balance, and I leaned against the maple tree for support.
Don’t look back, Scar. Just run.
I didn’t need to see him to know the General was somewhere behind her. Flashes of light illuminated the grounds, but lucky for us, his focus remained in the area by the small window she’d escaped from. My cunning friend played to her instincts, moving at great speed but clinging to the shadows that hid her. While the General’s back was to her, she ran straight to the willow and then out into the cemetery.
I’d been holding my breath the whole time. I hadn’t moved from my spot under the tree, yet I was sweating, partly because of the adrenaline pumping through me, and because any exertion Scar felt, I felt.
Till the two become one, sharing all that they know.
Scar was just a few feet from the gates now, and her focus latched onto me. I saw myself hidden under the tree, a misplaced dark shadow in her eyes. I sensed her relief and joy.
She had done it! Now that she was close, I threw the hood off my face and gasped, drinking in some much-needed fresh air and delighted to see her safely returned. Scar twisted through the iron fencing, the scroll secure in her mouth, her ears high and her eyes bright as she exalted in her own achievement. Best fox ever!
I pulled her close, rubbing her hard and giving her a once-over, searching for any sign she might be injured. For the most part she looked fine, but there was a nasty scorch mark on the brush of her tail, and I closed my eyes to thank Gaia. I suspected if it had touched her skin, she’d have been done for. But she hadn’t, and she was a rock star.
Relieved, I squeezed her tight.
“Good Scar! Treats for you all week!”
I stopped petting her long enough to grab some of the promised kibble from my pocket. She dropped her scroll, and I let her nibble on a few pieces. While she ate, I remained on alert, not taking my eyes off those gates.
“Come on, more later. we’d better run before the bad man comes after us.” I said this more to myself than to her. I pushed off the ground, and together we headed off as fast as we could, putting as much distance between me and the Abbey as possible.
The more I thought about the General, the angrier I became. If he tried to harm Scar again, I’d punch the old fool in the nose, never mind the consequences. His behavior was unacceptable. The entire idea of him somehow reconciling with his family had lost its appeal for me. If not for Henry’s feelings, and Eleanor’s too, I would gladly have walked away from the Abbey and never looked back.
Every now and then, I peered over my shoulder, expecting to see the General in hot pursuit, but we were not followed. The farther we got, the more my horrible sense of unease faded. Exhilaration took its place.
We had done it! Scar and I had the scroll. Now all we had to do was find the others, and if Henry could reverse the enchantments, all would be well.
I began to slow down as I approached the All Shook Up elven cocktail parlor.
I pulled the pack off my back. “Come on, Scar, up,” I said, holding out my hands to her and clapping once. Scar leapt into my arms, and I put her and the purple cloak in the bag. She soon settled in, safely out of sight. I fed her another piece of kibble from my pocket and then slid back under the straps.
It wasn’t hard to find the others. Sylvia and Henry were huddled at the end of the bar, closest to the door, and they both stood up the second I walked in.
Henry’s attention went straight to the scroll in my hand. He smiled, relieved. “You got it then.”
“We did,” I corrected him as I handed it to him. “I hope that’s the right one. And Scar was brilliant.”
Henry pulled the scroll open and looked over the words. Sylvia stared over his shoulder, her attention darting from the scroll to Henry as she anxiously awaited the verdict. I knew how she felt. I would die if we’d stolen the wrong scroll.
“Yes, this is the one,” Henry said at last. “Well done.”
We all breathed a sigh of relief.
“Look, we’d better hurry,” I said. “Your dad caught us stealing, and he might be raising new enchantments as we speak.”
“He saw you?” Sylvia asked, her eyes popping out with surprise.
“He saw Scar. And he was mad as hell. He almost killed her when she ran off with the scroll.”
They both nodded grimly.
“You’re right,” Henry said. “And he knows Scar, so he’ll know it was us. He’s probably already planning his next move to block us. We’ve got to get back there now and finish this thing.”
We all agreed. Sylvia dropped some cash on the bar, and in less than a minute, we were back on the street, walking at a brisk pace.
The closer we got to the Abbey, the greater my anxiety for Henry became.
“Are you sure you want to be the one to do the counter spell? I can do it if you like. I don’t mind.”
Henry didn’t drop his pace but continued full steam ahead, his focus unwavering.
“No. I want to do it. He’s my father after all. I think it should be me.”
“I know, I know,” I argued. “I understand completely. But what happens if something goes wrong? I mean, what if it’s worse this time? What if more than your memory is affected? I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. I don’t like you taking that risk.”
“She’s right, you know,” Sylvia added. “You can’t be sure what will happen if you’re exposed to a confusion spell again. Maybe I should do it—no offense, Cat, but you might not be ready yet. Do you want to give me the scroll?”
She reached out to take it, but Henry refused to slow down and held resolutely onto the parchment.
“No, sorry, I know what you’re trying to say, but it has to be me.”
“Why?” I said, my worry turning to frustration.
He stopped in his tracks at last and pulled me to one side.
“It’s hard to explain. But I must try. You have to let me try. Everything you said to me…I want that back. If I don’t do the counter curse, I might not change and…” He lowered his voice and brought his lips close so only I could hear. “I might not remember. Please. I really want to do this.”
His gaze penetrated mine, imploring, like he wanted me to understand what he was feeling. I couldn’t lie—I was worried, but I respected his need to do something, to not feel completely helpless.
“Okay, we’ll do it your way. There’s some salt in my pack. If nothing else, we can put you inside a circle. That should give you a bit of protection, at least.”
Henry’s face muscles relaxed. He squeezed my arm gently. “Thank you.”
Gaia help us all, I thought. “There’s a maple tree a little distance from the gate. I hid there while Scar was in the Abbey. It was a good spot; I didn’t feel quite so weirded out while I stayed close to it. I think that’s where you should do it. It might be safer than right in front of the gates.”
“Yes, I know it.” He looked down the street and pointed to the exact tree.
I nodded, and we carried on.
The streets had cleared, and the cemetery was unusually quiet. Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour, but I was afraid the General had beaten us to it and had already cast new spells to repel us.
Henry evidently had the same concern because he didn’t waste any time. He stood under the tree exactly where I had and opened the scroll vertically, reminding me of a town crier reading an old-time public announcement. Sylvia pulled the tub of salt from my backpack, and I heard Scar sniffle curiously on the inside.
“There, there, sweetheart,” Sylvia whispered, petting her. “You just settle down. Your work is done for tonight.” Scar licked her hand. “Good girl. Go to sleep.”
Sylvia joined Henry and poured a generous circle of salt all around him. Once she was done, she slipped the pot back in my pack and secured the straps. We were all set.
Sylvia clasped my hand and locked my fingers with hers. We exchanged fearful looks, and she tightened her hand to reassure me. I inhaled deeply, and after taking a breath of this own, Henry began to speak.
O’er land and down to sea,
Evil begone, away with thee,
For doute ye not, I cast this spelle,
And bid ye demons return to hell.
The night became so cold Sylvia and I instinctively held on to each other. The hidden beasts of New York, the foxes, squirrels, and rats all cried out at once, and anything with wings took to the skies, screeching in perfect unison. I heard a little whimper in my pack and knew that whatever it was, Scar had felt it too.
Overhead, the dark clouds drifted faster across the night sky. The silvery winter moon shone eerily over the cemetery, highlighting the stone graves, which cast long, sinister shadows across the gloomy earth.
The wind stopped blowing, and the clouds hid the moon and stars until there was just black above. No one moved. And then the moon slipped slowly from behind a cloud, casting its light on the world once more.
“Henry, oh sweet Gaia, are you okay?”
I could barely see him in the shadow of the tree, but he was standing perfectly still, and the scroll had fallen to the ground, landing inches from his body. His arms were still extended, and he was staring down at himself, like someone had surprised him by throwing a cold bucket of water all over him.
“Henry?” Sylvia repeated.
Fearing the worst, I dashed to his side, terrified of what I might find.
“Henry. Henry!”
In a flash, he grabbed my hands and pulled me to him so quickly he knocked the wind out of me. Then he kissed me, harder than he’d ever kissed me before, and I found myself not caring if I could get back into the Abbey. All I knew was Henry was kissing me now and doing one hell of a job of it.
In the end, I had to pull away, if only to come up for air.
“Sorry, who are you again?” he said.
Twit. I punched him hard on the arm.
“The enchantment is broken.” He grinned. I could see the old Henry reflected in his eyes. Thank Gaia!
“You think?” I said, as a wave of relief washed through me, warming my soul even though it was cold.
“And we have some serious catching up to do.” He pulled me close and began kissing me again.
“Ahem!” Sylvia coughed into her balled fist. “I’m sure you two have plenty to discuss, but we’re not done yet. If we don’t act fast, your dad might lock you out again.”
She was right, of course, but it was hard letting Henry go, having only just got him back.
Henry cupped my hands in his and kissed them. “We can discuss this later,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get this business over and done with.”
My relief evaporated as I steeled myself for the unpleasant task to come.
Henry reached for the gate. He hesitated, perhaps not fully trusting all enchantments were cleared even now.
“Allow me,” I said and turned the handle for him. The gates opened with a mild creak, and I stepped inside. I felt fine. If the General had cast something new, I wasn’t detecting it.
Once inside the cemetery, Sylvia closed the gates behind us. The faint sound of the city was lost with it, leaving only the silence of the night. It was time to face the General. Henry took my hand. We all took in a deep breath and marched resolutely toward the willow tree. It was time to do what I’d been tasked to do—to sing to him. Given all the General had just tried to do, I would much rather have punched him in the nose.