Our arrival into the attic sent mice squeaking and scurrrying across the wooden floor and out of sight. It could have been a trick of the light but they looked like a family of blue mice accompanied by a large pink one.

Fresh air from the stairs below us pushed dust sluggishly through the air. Moonlight, dulled by the filth that covered the half-circle windows, penetrated the room, making the slow moving particles twinkle like stars. Piles of sheet covered objects, adorned with spiderwebs, made peculiar-looking ghosts. Nearby a mannequin with six blue numbers scrawled onto its left arm stood, head down, defeated. Above it sat a majestic coat of arms for something called the League.

“Okay, let’s split up. We have a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time.” Oggie said.

“What about the mice?” Mila asked fervently.

“Ignore them, they won’t hurt you.”

Mila shudded and muttered something about not letting the mice lay eggs in her ears.

She yelped as I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the darkness.