I started moving. Jenks gripped my fur tighter.

“Ugh. Your ear is a mess,” he said as I flowed down the three stairs. “Okay. Go down the hallway to the right. There’s an opening—No! Don’t take it,” he shouted as I did just that. “It’s the kitchen.”

I turned, freezing at the sound of feet on the stairs. My pulse raced. I wouldn’t be caught. I wouldn’t.

“The sink,” Jenks whispered. “The cupboard door isn’t closed. Hurry!”

Spotting it, I scurried across the tile floor, my claws scraping softly. I wedged myself inside. Jenks flitted to peek around the door. Backing away to hide behind a bucket, I listened.

“They aren’t in the kitchen,” a voice shouted, sounding muffled. I felt a knot of worry loosen. He had said “they.” Baron was still free.

Jenks turned, his wings an unseen blur as he stood in the cupboard. “Damn, it’s good to see you. Ivy’s done nothing but stare at a map of Trent’s compound she dug up,” he whispered. “All night muttering and scribbling on paper. Every sheet ends up crumpled in the corner. My kids are having a blast playing hide-and-seek in the pile she’s made. I don’t think she knows I’m gone. She just sits at that map of hers, drinking orange juice.”

I smelled dirt. As Jenks babbled like a Brimstone addict needing his fix, I explored the smelly cupboard to find that the pipe from the sink went under the house through a wood floor. The crack between the iron and the floor was just wide enough for my shoulder. I started chewing.

“I said, get that dog out of here,” a muffled voice shouted. “No. Wait. You have a lead for him? He can find them.”

Jenks came close. “Hey, the floor. That’s a good idea! Let me help.” Jenks alighted next to me, getting in my way.

“Get Baron,” I tried to squeak.

“I can so help.” Jenks pried a toothpick-sized stick of wood from around the hole.

“The rat,” I chittered. “He can’t see.” Frustrated, I knocked over a canister of sink cleaner. The powder spilled out, and the smell of pine became overwhelming. Snatching Jenks’s toothpick, I wrote out, “Get rat.”

Jenks took to the air, a hand over his nose. “Why?”

“Man,” I scrawled. “Can’t see.”

Jenks grinned. “You found a friend! Wait till I tell Ivy.”

I bared my teeth, pointing at the door with my stick. Still he hesitated. “You’ll stay here? Keep making that hole bigger?”

Frustrated, I threw the stick at him. Jenks hovered backward. “All right, all right! Don’t lose your panties. No, wait. You don’t have any, do you?”

His laughter chimed out, sounding like freedom itself, as he slipped past the crack in door. I went back to chewing the floor. It tasted awful, a putrid mix of soap, grease, and mold. I just knew I was going to get sick. Tension strung through me. The sudden thumps and crashes from up front jerked me. I was waiting for the triumphant cry of capture. Fortunately it seemed the dog didn’t know what was expected of it. It wanted to play, and tempers were getting short.