Behind him came Simber, and behind Simber came Ms. Octavia, the octogator, nearly appearing to float through the air on her many tentacles.

Alex dashed through the no-longer-a-secret hallway, past the two mysterious doors he had not yet been able to unlock, and then past the doors to his new living quarters and the Museum of Large. He turned left into his new office at the end of the hall, by the picture window that overlooked Artimé.

Charlie the gargoyle was there already—he spent a good deal of time in this wing of the mansion, still not quite having gotten over the loss of his creator, Mr. Today, whose recent death had shaken Artimé.

“Can you ask Matilda to contact us if she sees Aaron showing up at the palace tonight?” Alex asked Charlie. “Also, find out if his wrists are still shackled.”

Charlie responded with a hand signal Alex had determined to mean “yes,” though Sky, who knew the sign language, had said something once about how that hand signal had a more complex meaning, like “yes” with an air of reverence, as if the gargoyle were acknowledging Alex as a king. It made Alex feel a little embarrassed to be referred to in such a manner, but Sky had said it would be insulting to Charlie if Alex asked him to stop, so the new mage reluctantly accepted it.

“Thanks,” Alex said. He drummed his fingers nervously on the desk and sorted through a stack of papers, not really seeing them, just keeping his fingers busy as if to mimic the speed of the wheels turning in his head.

Simber and Octavia entered the office and took their places. Claire Morning and Gunnar Haluki, both recovered from their brushes with death, were not far behind. Tailing them was Florence, who had stayed back to be sure everyone made it safely inside the mansion to await their instructions.

Alex stood abruptly and paced the floor, distracted by a whirlwind of thoughts and not knowing quite how or where to start preparing for an attack at home. Crow had cried out that it was the birds of Warbler coming to get them, but Alex thought it was more likely that the dots of light were from Queen Eagala’s fleet of ships she’d been building for years. Sky had said there were many in various states of construction. He wondered if Warbler really could be heading to Artimé to attack.

“But of course they must be,” muttered Alex. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He looked up when the floor shook slightly. Florence had taken her seat.

The strange party of humans, statues, and creatures glanced uneasily about, quite possibly because of Alex’s strange mumblings. Not a single one in the room had been around to see Alex’s forced evolution from boy to mage back when Artimé had turned to dust, the creatures rendered lifeless and the humans nearly so from lack of food and water. And while Alex, after a number of stumbles and amid countless moments of despair, had proven to be quite worthy of taking the place of their beloved leader, Mr. Today, the team had not been there to witness the worst of the situation.

Alex looked around the room, thankful for perhaps the eighty-seven millionth time that the eyes that sought his belonged to this particular group of advisors. He opened his lips to greet them, but hesitated, both in speaking and in pacing. Instead he took a moment to really consider who sat with him at this pivotal juncture: Simber, the pristine stone winged cheetah who had almost without effort grown to be Alex’s confidant and first mate. Florence, the enormous ebony statue who commanded Artimé’s magical warriors. Ms. Octavia, the art instructor, one of Mr. Today’s most gifted, trusted, and outspoken creations. Gunnar Haluki, the former high priest of Quill and the father of Alex’s dear and valuable friends Lani and Henry. And Claire Morning, Mr. Today’s daughter, a musical genius and a nurturer rather than leader, by her own proclamation. It was an incredible group—Mr. Today’s own hand-picked team—and they were among the best of Artimé. Yet for Alex, something wasn’t quite right. Because during their absence with Artimé had disappeared, Alex had quite desperately come to trust a few others.

Alex tapped his lips. “How much time do we have before they get here, Sim?”

“Severrral hourrrs. Likely morrre,” replied the beast.

Alex nodded. “I’ll be right back,” he said. He strode to the rear wall of the office, uttered a spell, and went through the secret magical door that led into his private quarters.

“Clive,” he called.

Alex’s blackboard took on a slight glow in the dark room. A face pressed out of it. “Yes m’lord?”

“Knock it off,” Alex muttered. “I need you to summon Samheed Burkesh, Carina Holiday, and Sean Ranger. Have them come to my office at once.”

“Certainly, Your Grace.”

“You’re going to be sorry about mocking me very soon,” Alex warned. He didn’t have patience for Clive’s sarcastic jokes today. His eyes landed on the cabinet that held his spell components. Alex took a few seconds to top off his robe’s pockets as well as the pockets of his component vest underneath, and then he returned to the office. Clive called out an old but welcome reminder not to die as Alex closed the door.

Simber stood gazing out toward the sea from the office windows. Alex muttered a spell to unlatch one of them. He opened it so Simber could sample the air to get a better sense of what was approaching. The others talked quietly, already planning.

A moment later, Alex’s three breathless friends arrived and stood uncertainly in the doorway.

“Come in. Are Sky and Crow all right?” Alex asked.




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