Page 59 of The Filigree Key

“While Flora works on not choking to death, why don’t you go first?” Daphne told Sawyer, swishing her tail. The mare looked like she needed to let off some steam with a good run, but as we were all stuffed in Shari’s hut again, she settled for tossing her mane and flicking her tail. Incessantly. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a tunnel?”

“I was in the tunnel.” Sawyer situated himself firmly in my lap, the two of us both drawing comfort from the physical contact. He craned his head back to look up at me with those luminous amber eyes. “Did you get my note?”

“I did. That was exceptionally clever of you.”

His little white teeth flashed in a pleased grin. Then: “Woodchucks are fantastic diggers, did you know that? Roland located a good spot, then he, Walt, and Joe all rotated through to help me. I kept our work muted with the surdus totum incantation,” he said proudly.

I ruffled his scruff. “Never had a doubt.”

“We got the stone out early this morning. The hole empties into the dungeon, by the corner by the door. It’s dark there, and if the tunnel door’s open, I can hide behind it.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience?” Shari inferred.

She lumbered over to me and started taking measurements around my neck, bust, and waist. A jab to my ribs told me to stand and hold one end of the string at the top of my shoulder so she could get my height.

When she was done, I got to mixing up a fresh batch of masking sand. It was a bit like making granola which you then had to dry out in an oven before breaking into clumps. Or in this case, grinding down into sand. At least I didn’t need the cauldron-cup.

Meanwhile, Sawyer had situated himself on the warm bricks that lined the firepit, momentarily distracted by the snail slurping away at the orange sludge in the jar. “Uh-huh,” he finally continued. “It opened just as I dropped down. Botched the landing, which is how I got this.” He hefted the sprained leg I’d healed. “But I was able to squeeze an eye by the crack in the door by the hinges and watch.”

He gave me a solemn look. “They’re rotating out some of the prisoners. Ricky was added to the dungeon. And anyone who wasn’t supe or Fair Folk got yanked.” His ears flattened, pupils dilating with anxious anticipation. “They took Poppy away.”

Flora choked, slammed her fist against her chest, swallowed, and screeched, “What?” She flung the sandwich down on the cot. It bounced precariously close to where Shari’s bolt of pristine white satin lay, and the porcupine’s quills flared. The quiet crafter was lucky it wasn’t the apple or the pear or even the wheel of cheese that had been thrown. Any one of them would’ve detonated like a stomped puffball mushroom.

“What are they doing with my rabbit, Stripes?” the honey badger hollered.

“Not so loud,” Daphne neighed, checking the nearest window.

Sawyer, who had hunched into a ball at Flora’s first outburst, arched and bristled his back with the second. “I don’t know! I couldn’t exactly follow them until they were done! Brandi’s Lugus Spell only works when I’m not moving. The Brothers swapped everyone out—and they weren’t happy about it either—and shut the door. Alec locked it behind them. That took a little finagling to undo, and then I had to make sure I wasn’t seen in the tunnel.”

The tomcat paused, looking reluctant to say anything further.

“And?” Flora demanded.

“Don’t yell at him,” I scolded. “Let’s remember to be kind to each other, okay? He did all that on a lame leg.”

“Yeah,” Sawyer sulked. Instead of continuing his story, he darted across the bricks, sprang onto the cot, and ripped an entire chicken leg out of the sandwich. He returned to his spot in my lap, daring the honey badger to protest.

Flora tsked in annoyance.

But the tomcat was considerate of the honey badger’s concern and didn’t stop to eat. He did stab all ten claws of his front paws into the meat to keep his prize, though, just in case.

“The tunnel . . . splits into two. And, um, I chose the wrong half.”

“How do you mean?” I asked, stroking him reassuringly.

“My tunnel led to a big ol’ grate that empties out into the woods. It’s fastened tight, but I was able to squeeze through the rungs, seeing as I’m skinny and whatnot.” He tore a strip off the chicken leg and chewed.

“Sounds like an air vent of some kind,” Daphne mused. “Or for drainage. Could you find it again?”

“Of course,” the tomcat said proudly. “I peed all over it and half a dozen other trees to mark the trail.”

The mare upturned her lip at that. As sole owner and operator at RescueLove Animal Shelter, she more than anyone else knew how horribly tomcat urine stank.

“The other tunnel must lead to somewhere in town,” I guessed. “How else can they funnel the prisoners without anyone seeing them?”

“I know, I know,” the tomcat groused. “I need to explore more.” A tremor made his stripes ripple, but he didn’t voice his fears aloud. “The grate’s big enough to let someone else come with me next time,” he said hopefully, “i-if we can move it.”

“I’ll get something started to open the grate. Right after I make that toirchim tonic counter-potion.” I seized the mug and groaned when I realized the hickory nuts weren’t done yet.