“Or maybe we could ask Magda to scry for it,” Darien thought out loud. “No, wait, we have no scrying object. So that won’t work.”
“I wish I could help more.” Pip looked up at Kii. “What does it smell like?”
“Smell?” Kii cocked her head one way, then the other. “I don’t notice smells much but…” She froze, the membrane of her eyes blinking back and forth rapidly. “You know what that spell tastes like? Fresh grass and summer air. And so did the rats I ate for lunch.”
“The rats?” Darien hadn’t paid much attention to Grim’s mutters about the vermin, other than being grateful that between cat and dog, the livable parts of the house were pretty rat-free. “You think there’s something magic going on?”
“I’ve always wondered,” Grim said, “ever since we landed in this sprawling monstrosity, why the rats were fat and well-muscled and sleek all year round, even when it was harsh winter here. And why there’s no end to them.”
Silas poured the coffee and passed mugs to Darien and Jasper. “You’re saying we have magical rats?”
Grim aimed a swipe of needle-tipped paw at Silas’s shin. “I’m saying, O necromancer, that something odd has been going on with the local rodents. And while I assumed it was a minor puzzle, to be pursued when I had time, maybe it’s more.”
“I like chasing rats,” Pip noted. “But they get away a lot. They’re fast. And sneaky. And Grim says not to follow them too far.”
“Maybe I was wrong about that.” Grim gave Darien a green-eyed glare. “No quips, youngster. Everyone’s wrong at least once in their life. But maybe we need someone to follow those rats and see where they’re going. Or coming from.”
“I’ll happily kill them out in the open,” Kii said. “Or catch one, if you want to examine it. But I’m not built to wander through holes.”
“I am.” Pip jumped up and down. “I can do it. I’m just the right size.”
“What if the spell’s dangerous?” Darien asked. “And rats— they’re mean.”
Pip grinned, a surprisingly feral look on his sweet face. “Grim taught me to kill rats. It’s not that hard. Dogs like me are good at it.”
Grim cuffed him. “Don’t get cocky.” He looked up at Silas. “I admit, I’d thought about sending someone after the rats before, because puzzles annoy me. The hole where that one came out and landed on Jasper leads into some of their tunnels I can’t reach. I’d thought about asking Anya’s weasel, or some other small and fierce hunter.”
“I’m small and fierce,” Pip said.
“Perhaps I could create a spirit mouse,” Darien suggested. “Like I did in Seattle to check out that warehouse.” He started to pool a little power to see if he could do it by memory, but the magic fizzled and faded, and every inch of his skin felt stretched thin.
“You need to rest more.” Silas gave him a worried look. “Conserve energy for after we find this spell. I’ve a feeling we’ll need it.” Silas knelt to look at Pip. “If you’re game to try to squeeze through the tunnels, and you’re sure you can survive the rats, you may be our best chance.”
“I like that.” Pip whirled in a circle and wagged his tail. “I like being best.”
Grim jumped on the counter and tapped Silas’s mug. “You humans should drink up and Darien needs to eat more, before we let Pip plunge into the unknown.”
“Good point.” Silas headed to the fridge. “Darien, what can I get you?”
“We don’t happen to have any of Mrs. Vaughn’s cookies left, do we?” It was a vain hope. She’d sent a full box after their return from Seattle two weeks back, but everyone had loved them, even Kii.
“I told Silas to put a few in the freezer,” Grim said. “He could get them out now, for an energy boost.”
Darien hoped that Grim hadn’t had some premonition about how they’d need lots of magic soon. Because he still felt like a soggy noodle. But since the result of that premonition was three of Mrs. Vaughn’s cookies, all for him, he wouldn’t complain too hard. He gnawed his way through them, delicious despite being frozen, as they all drank down their coffee. Whatever she put in those killer treats, it had more kick than the cup of joe did. He could feel new strength buzzing right out to the tips of his fingers.
When they were done, they made their way back down to the cellar with the dead rat. Grim had said they needn’t bother to clear it away. The other rats would eat it. But so far it was untouched. Pip bent to sniff its fur thoroughly. “I can smell it!” he said. “Summer grass. And flowers and very odd smells.” He looked up at the crack that gave access to some kind of sub-floor space. “Lift me up there.”
Darien wanted to ask again if Pip was sure, but he knew exactly how annoying that was. He hoisted Pip up, with a quick hug along the way, and held him steady as his little white paws scrabbled, caught, and he pulled himself into the space.
“Be careful,” Darien said. “And maybe bark now and then, so we know where you are.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Grim said. “Wards can’t cover everything. They might let sound through better. And pup, you’re not in there to catch rats. Or to get stuck somewhere you can’t get out of. If the space gets tight, back up.”
“Yes, Grim. Yes, Darien.” Pip vanished into the darkness in the wall.
They all stood together, listening. After a few moments Pip’s bark came to them clearly. Grim pointed with his chin. “Heading west. But the tunnels may twist around.”
Darien moved to the west wall, but this little section didn’t connect with anything else on the lowest level. “Let’s go up a floor. I hope we can hear him from up there.”
“He has a very piercing bark,” Grim grumbled, in grudging reassurance.
They climbed the stairs and Darien was relieved to hear another bark from Pip, off along the hall. “This way.” He hurried after the sound of his dog with the rest trotting behind him. Jasper had raised his shield on his shoulder, and Kii rode there, talons gripping, wings slightly outstretched, as they paused, listened, heard Pip, and headed off again.
The game of Marco Polo took them through the cellar levels, until they came up against a blank wall in a basement room. Pip’s bark sounded hoarsely from the other side. Darien called, “Pip! Can you hear me?”
The little dog’s words came muffled but clear. “Yes, Darien. You’re pretty close.”
“What do you see?”
“There’s a crack, and the rat went through it.”
Silas slammed a hand on the wall between them hard enough to dent the uneven plaster. “Maybe we can cut through, although if it’s brick underneath…”
“We’ll try to get to you,” Darien called to Pip. “I’m not sure how.”
“Why don’t you come through the door?” Pip asked.
“Door?” Silas’s deep tones echoed in the empty room. “I don’t see a door.”
“Right here.” They heard scrabbling and thumps, like Pip was doing something vigorous. More thumps, and a little scraping, a huff of breath. Then a crack appeared in the plaster, and shards of white fell. Darien hear a creak, a rasp, and more of the plaster flaked free and crashed, raising a dust of white and revealing a tall narrow gap. As the gap widened, a shiver ran up and down the wall, and they jumped back as a big section fell, revealing a heavy wooden door, pushed slightly ajar. “That door,” Pip said through the crack, with totally excusable triumph.