It was an odd feeling, running like Abby was now. It wasn't exhilarating or freeing. She felt cold, her skin clammy. Thoughts raced through her head, circling back to the same question: what would she find once her running ended?

Deep down, she didn't want to know. And deeper down a tiny, quivering voice whispered that not-knowing would somehow be much worse.

Her desire to know kept her legs moving even as they felt like minted jelly jiggling on a saucer of finely-crafted Ean crockery. Crum stumbled along behind at her heels, a third cat of sorts, beside Lucy and Sebbi. 

As they approached the house, the screams grew louder. Another sound joined them, a splintering one like that of a tree falling down during a storm. To Abby's knowledge, no trees resided in the house. She had peonies on her balcony and a few poorly watered plants on the porch, but nothing large and wooden enough to splinter.

The sound came from the woodwork of the house, the floors, the beams, the chester drawers that held hundreds of pricey knick knacks and priceless pictures of Abby's mother. Wood had been the skeleton of the house; so what happened to the insides when a skeleton splintered?

They got squished.

The first hint of flames caught Abby's gaze and she froze mid-stride. Both cats and Crum nearly tumbled into her shins and shoulder blades respectively. The dining hall blazed with the fiercest oranges and reds, as if an entire sun had been stuffed into one room. The second floor seemed calm, no fire, though smoke hazed the windows. 

Abby's panic swelled. When had a fire started? Where were the guests? Why had no one run outside?

"Shit!" Crum screamed as he ran up to the patio door.

Abby followed, mindfully navigating the rows of old Ms. Seivers' herb garden. An odd thought nestled its way into her chest. Why was she careful not to trample the plants? If Ms. Seiver was in the house, then it wouldn't matter if Abby stepped on the plants or not with her soft shoes. The dead didn't worry.

At the door, Crum gathered the cuff of his jacket and placed it over his mouth. Smoke slunk through the cracks and curled upward, like an angered snake wanting to strike out at the stars.

With his free hand, Crum tried the handle. "It's not opening." He jingled it harder. "Shit! Why isn't this opening?"

Something doesn't want to let us in, Abby's brain told her. Or let whoever's inside out.

More splintering sounded, more crackling. The voices though were quieting. Where were they? Mimi? Polly? Dad?

Panicked, Crum slammed his fists against the door. "Dad! Dad!"

Abby looked up. A shadow skittered across the smoke. Then another and another. Were those her guests? The shadows looked too round to be people. Deep inside the house, a few clangs rang out, followed by something bouncing off the window to Abby's right.

"They're not getting out," she whispered.

Crum turned toward her and grabbed her shoulders with trembling fingers. "What do you mean they're not getting out? Why not?"

Abby shook her head. "I don't know," she said slowly. "I think it's magick." Bad magick, she thought. But not Anti-magick. That was for dour girls with heads of red curls and—

I'll never see Poppy again. Hear Polly. Think of how squirrelly Henrich Jo looks in his tattered coats.

Crum clicked his tongue. "That's absurd. Magick's for silly tricks and tonics. It turns your hair blue. It doesn't lock people inside a burning house."

He released her and took a few steps back. Then he breathed deep and ran full-speed at the door. He bounced off it and fell to the stone with a thud. 

"Dammit," he muttered as tears ran down his cheeks. "Dad!" Crum pounded a fist into the ground. His knuckles cracked open, blood trailing down his skin.

"There's got to be a way," Crum said as he scrambled to his feet. "Another door, or a window—" He turned and started to jog toward the front of the house. "I'll get help. Go back to the grove and stay there. Wait for me!"

Crum turned the corner and disappeared leaving Abby alone in the dark. Her only light came from the fire. For a while, the world had felt stilted, but now that Crum had gone, the world felt completely stopped. Abby shook. This couldn't possibly be happening. Surely, this couldn't be real. All the people Abby loved could not—

Dad.

"Miss!"

Around the corner, Margo came barreling toward Abby. Arms as thick as columns forced the girl into an embrace. "Thank whiskers you're alright!"

Margo released her and stared at the house. The flames turned blue. The chandelier in the hall had begun to melt. The tables were all but cinders, and the last few working lights flickered on and off.

Margo frowned. "Magick's at work here." She sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose. "If they weren't out when it was cast, then—"

Margo clasped her mouth shut, but it didn't matter. Abby knew how the sentence ended. "They're trapped."

Margo nodded. "Aye." The maid flicked a few strands of hair behind her ears and looked down. "We can't stay here. It's not safe."

Abby shook her head. "Not yet," she whispered. She held her chin high, her eyes trained on the second floor. A window twice the size of the others was above her, two large fish etched into the glass.

"Miss," Margo pleaded.

"I need to stay," Abby said. The tiny voice had told her to wait, to know. Both cats plopped down on either side of Abby's feet, unwilling to leave until she was ready.

Margo clicked her tongue. "What a bunch of hessren." She sighed and rummaged around in her frock pockets until she pulled out a piece of cheesecloth. Underneath, lay a glistening hunk of sheep's cheese. Margo's eyes sparkled, her gut quivering in anticipation, and then she plopped the entire thing into her mouth."I'll see what I can do," she mumbled, her mouth full of soft curd.

After a few seconds, Miss Treestump began to glow. Not an eerie green, or a horrified red. Not even an alchemic blue. She glowed as if all her colors got brighter. Her hair turned a richer, earthier brown, her rosy cheeks a full crimson. The frock's royal blue became the color of the deepest seas. The wind picked up, but it blew in reverse as if it was returning the way it had come. The grass bent forward at sharp angles. Then, everything stilled and Margo's color dulled.

The maid smirked. "I've put up a barrier," she said, cheeks puffed and covered in bits of cheese. "It won't hold for long, but I've bought you time, Miss Abby."

Time. Yes, that's what Abby needed more of, more time. Abby nodded at the maid, her use of magick unnoticed.

Wait. Just a little longer.

Finally, Abby saw a tiny, red dot. It moved toward the window. Behind it, a shadow began taking shape. Abby grabbed her dress and twisted the fabric. The red dot grew into the glowering tip of a lit cigarette. A crop of disheveled brown hair peeked through the smoke. Green eyes. The glint off a pair of dragon earrings.  Abby's heart sank to her shoes.

Dad.

He emerged from the darkness, framed on either side by his Jacquer fish window. He coughed, his eyes red. Soot covered his face and the suit he had specially made for tonight's big to-do.

"Dad."

Culpepper looked down. He met his daughter's gaze and for a brief second, his eyes flickered with sadness. Taking the cigarette from his lips, he smiled, a big, crooked smile.

Abby's nails dug into her palms. She took a breath, exhaled, and forced her mouth to curl upward. She hoped it was a good smile because she knew it would be the last one her father would see.

After another breath and exhale, Abby lifted her hand above her head and waved.

Goodbye.

Her dad's smile didn't falter, it didn't slide off his face. Instead, he shook his head. It's not goodbye, that's what he was trying to say.

Abby's smile wavered. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions from bursting forth. Abby didn't want to have just memories. They weren't warm. They didn't hug you or comfort you or tell you they loved you back. Memories were what the world left you with when it'd been too cruel.

A crash came from inside the house, and Culpepper turned. He looked back before he disappeared into the house. Abby saw orange and red. Flames had breached the upper floor.

"We have to go, Miss," Margo said. She grabbed Abby's arm and pulled. The girl followed obediently. She had no reason to stay.

"This way."

Margo led them toward the forest. Lucy kept pace beside her while Sebbi brought up the rear. Abby was in the middle, the joy of a good run completely absent from her face.

Once the trees thinned enough so Margo could make out the sky again, she stopped and sniffed the air. Satisfied, Margo nodded.

"This is the right place," she said as she took out a piece of string.

What's that for? Lucy meowed.

"It's to help me find the crack in the world. Open the door to the All-realms."

Abby watched the maid, her eyebrows raised quizzically. Finding her voice, she asked, "Who are you talking to?"

Margo, getting down on her hands and knees, turned and replied, "The cats, Miss."

Abby looked at Lucy and Sebbi. They seemed normal enough. "You can talk to them?"

Margo shook her head and placed the piece of string between her teeth. "Yes, but they do most of the talking. Idiots usually ask a lot of questions."

Margo turned toward Abby, her blue eyes glowing. Her color grew more vibrant."Things are about to get very strange, Miss. Please don't scream."

Margo grew large at first, her stomach extending outward like a balloon ready to burst. At the pivotal moment where if she had been a balloon she would have popped, the maid, instead, grew small. Rounded ears sprouted from her head. Her body grew fur, her face whiskers. A tail extended from her backside.

You're that mouse, Lucy meowed, remembering the blue-eyed creature he'd seen fleeing from the forest.

Margo sat up on her haunches and gave her whiskers a quick lick. Aren't you a genius, she squeaked.

The string laid on the ground beside mouse Margo, pulled taut as though it was being held by an invisible pair of hands. The end of it disappeared somewhere, underneath a place none of them could see.

Sebbi watched the mouse with a newfound interest. Saliva dripped from his mouth.

Don't you dare, Margo said as she grabbed the string. I'm not just a mouse. I can use magick and I'll turn you into a toad if you think of eating me."

Sebbi hissed and gave the air in front of Margo's face a quick swat.

Eep! Margo scurried away from the cat and his glistening fangs and hid behind a branch.

Abby smacked the cat on his head. "I don't know what you've gone and said to frighten her, but Margo, mouse or not is," Abby searched for the right words. "Is doing something?" Abby looked down at a trembling Margo. "You are doing something, aren't you?"

The mouse jumped up and down and shook her head fervently. Yes! A big something.

Margo returned her attention to the string and began to pull. It was strange watching a mouse get so worked up over something that wasn't cheese. Margo's cheeks puffed out, her furry face drenched with sweat.

Finally, the mouse managed a good yank and a small crack in the clearing appeared. She pulled the string more. Slowly, the world peeled back on itself, a blue light spilling out from inside the tear.

Abby took a step forward. "What's this?"

The door, Miss Abby. We must go, Margo squeaked.

Abby cocked her head. She wished Margo had used some of her mouse magick to give her the ability to understand squeaks.

The road open, Margo got behind Abby and pressed against the girl's shin. Time to go.

Abby could take a hint, or in this case, a very light nudge. With one last deep breath, Abby looked up at her own sky and walked into the blue.

She landed with a thwop.

"Ow," she said, getting up. She wiped mud and leaves from her butt. "Could've been gentler with the landing."

"I have very little control over how others ride the road."

Abby looked around for the speaker. It'd come from a large thicket of bluish bushes. Flowers the size of Abby's head bloomed on the thorny stalks, the color of jade and aqua. Overhead, a moon twice the size of her own hung in the sky, full and red. It cast a crimson hue that crept along the ground. Vines hung from strange black-barked trees. The air smelled like rainfall even though the ground was hard. There was an energy in the air that buzzed around Abby and pricked her skin.

Strange. What was that?

"Magick. It's dying in the realms, but it's stronger here than in Exul."

A young woman emerged from the thicket. Wild, black curls sprouted up from her head. Blue eyes the color of the Fragilli looked at Abby. Her cocoa-colored skin shimmered with a golden iridescence.

Too tall to be a fairy, Abby thought. No wings either. Pretty enough, but definitely not a fairy.

"What's Exit? And who are you?" Abby asked.

The young woman strode up to Abby and clasped her hand. She had to stand on her tip toes to meet Abby's gaze. "It's Exul, the realm of exiles. Your home. And I'm Margo. True Margo." She furrowed her thick brows. "Kind of," she added.

Abby arched a brow. "You're Margo? Margo the lumpy housemaid? And a few seconds ago, Margo the mouse?"

"Yes, Margoliesse Browntail of the Cloude," Margo said giving Abby's hand a thorough shake. "Practicing wizardess and spy for the Queen of Light." She smiled and Abby noticed this Margo, fairy-though-not-quite-fairy Margo, had a few whiskers on either side of her nose. 

"You have whiskers like a cat," Abby said.

Margo jutted her pointy chin. "They are mouse whiskers clearly," she huffed. "They're longer and far more delicate. Cat whiskers are short and spiky, though don't tell that to 'em now that we're guests of their kingdom."

Abby looked around. "Their kingdom?"

"Oh my, forgive me. This," Margo said,  holding both hands toward the sky, "is Aelurus, the Cat Kingdom."

"Ae-lur-us?" Abby repeated. Margo nodded. "The Cat Kingdom?"

"Yes. You'd think it'd be full of scratching posts and napping perches but—"

Cat? Kingdom?

Abby's heart raced. She looked around, frantic. "Lucy and Sebbi! Where are they?"

Margo turned her head a few times and scanned the ground. "Beastly creatures should be around here somewhere." She picked up a rock and finding no cats under it, nothing under it save one sad, lone beetle, sat it back down, a disappointed look on her face. She turned toward Abby.

"Well," she said. "What do you say, Miss Tells? Shall we go and find your cats?"

Abby shook her head. "They're not just my cats. They're my family. The only ones I have left."

Margo nodded and together, mouse and Miss headed further into the forest, a single red star shining overhead. It looked like the tip of a cigarette burning far, far away.

^-^ This chapter's dedicated to @Ishalnq  The chapter's a day late, but I hope you enjoy it. Happy belated Birthday! ^-^