I stared up at that moon, realizing that we were now, officially, out of time. The lunar eclipse was in full effect, and the Corvidae's ceremony could be starting any minute. And the worst part about it was that we still didn't know exactly where to go.

I hurried up to the tree, following the ley line as fast as I could. I didn't even bother to wait for my friends— they'd be able to see me running through the grass just fine on the other side of it, and I wanted to get a handle on just how far away we still were from wherever the Corvidae were holding their ritual. It hadn't escaped my notice that the place seemed way to quiet for any reasonably large group of birds to have gathered. Did that mean we were still nowhere near it?

I ran about a quarter around the base of the tree, intending to climb up the side a foot or two. I figured, I could use that little bit of height to see how far the line stretched. But before I even left the ground, I was stopped cold. Running straight between my paws and stopping at the roots of the tree was another ley line— this one, a neon pink.

I stared at it for a minute before whipping back to face the one I'd been following. Mine wasn't in the dead-center of the trunk like this second one was, but it did dead-end at the tree all the same. The fact that mine had been so far to the side is what had lead me to believe it went around the tree. But now, I was beginning to suspect something much, much worse.

I continued my walk around the tree. A few inches further around, there was an electric blue line. Then, the radioactive green I'd been following. It ran through the trunk on the other side, continuing on as if the tree were just a slight hiccup in its path. The same thing was true of the pink and blue lines. I made two full circles around the tree, looking up into the leaves, looking down at the ground. There was no doubt about it; the lines converged somewhere under the tree. 

Slowly, I started climbing up it, digging my claws in and wondering just how I was supposed to accomplish this. It didn't escape my attention that the whole place was still disturbingly quiet. If this was where the ritual was taking place, where were all the birds? Could Comet have been wrong? What would we do if he was? Somehow, I didn't think they'd be all that interested in changing me back if I couldn't complete the mission.

"Evan? What's wrong?" Olivia asked quietly. She didn't sound nearly as excited about our half-formed plan as she had just a few minutes ago, which was a shame. I'd been hoping that some of her confidence would rub off on me.

"We need to hurry," Gabe whispered, glancing back up at the sky.

I jumped down to the base of the tree and traced each line in the dirt until it reached the trunk, making a kind of wheel with the tree in the middle. Then I stared back up at my friends expectantly.

"I don't understand..." Olivia said slowly. 

I ran around the tree again, tracing the lines for a second time, digging deeper into the dirt. I really wished during all the time we'd spent planning last night that we'd thought of a better way to communicate out in the field— clearly, body language wasn't exactly cutting it.

"Do you mean they're... here?"

I nodded as Gabe dropped to the ground. This close to me, his wheezing was even more noticeable, and I was starting to get genuinely worried about him. He walked carefully on his hands and knees for a few steps before looking back up at Olivia.

"He's right," Gabe confirmed. "So what's that mean? We have to cut the tree down?"

But I was already climbing.

There was no way Comet would send us here to cut a tree down. Besides, even if we did that, the ley lines would still be converging here, right? So what would it really help? Although, it would probably be a lot easier to interrupt some bird ritual if it was taking place on the ground.

As I slowly ascended, being as quiet as I possibly could, I thought I could hear voices. They were too muffled for me to tell where they were coming from, but they were definitely there.

I made my way up to the first real branch in the tree. Not-so-coincidentally, it also happened to be the thickest. From here, the voices were much clearer. I still couldn't make out what they were saying— it sounded like some kind of weird song, maybe a chant. But I could definitely tell where it was coming from now: at the base of this branch there was an opening, stretching deep and black into who knew where.

Cautiously, I peeked my head into it, my whiskers brushing lightly against each side, sending a weird feeling into my brain. The high-pitched chanting seemed to get louder. It looked like I'd successfully found the Corvidae Headquarters.

I hunched down until my chest was lightly brushing against the branch underneath me and inched a littler further to the hole. With the way my whiskers felt against the sides, I knew in my gut that it was wide enough for me to sneak through. But was it tall enough? I took a few more cautious steps forward. It sure seemed ok. That is, as long as it didn't suddenly get a lot narrower somewhere farther into the trunk.

I thought about it very carefully. I hadn't been all that close to a lot of birds lately, but I was pretty sure that when I crouched down like this, I wasn't any taller than them. And my spine was a lot more flexible than it had been back when I was human; I'd almost definitely be able to follow them wherever this hole led. Of course, crawling my way down into what was almost definitely a tiny little space meant I wouldn't have backup.

A chill swept through me as I finally grasped the real reason Comet had turned me into a smaller-than-average cat. He'd never intended for me to have backup in the first place. Even Comet, who wasn't all that much bigger than I was, would have had real trouble fitting in here. Did that mean that they had no idea just how narrow these tunnels were? Or what lurked inside? What if I got stuck somewhere and couldn't turn around? Well, at least Gabe and Olivia knew where I was. Hopefully they'd be able to hear my yelling and call the fire department or something. As long as the fire department deemed it worth their time and money to get me out.

Now, I had a decision to make. Of course, there wasn't really a choice, but I needed to pretend there was. I couldn't allow myself to acknowledge that I'd been tricked into this from day one, and that I might have been set up to fail. Or, if not fail, not necessarily get back out after successfully disrupting the ritual. But it was either go down there an try, or spend the rest of my life like this.

 I took a deep breath, steeled my nerves, and crawled straight into that tree.