1. Get the thorn necklace off Meghan.

2. See if Sky and Crow want theirs off too.

3. Figure out how to find Lani and Samheed.

4. Find them.

5. Rescue them.

6. Sleep.

7. Do something about the . . .

He drifted off. Half an hour later, he jerked awake. The water was cold. “You’d think there’d be a spell to keep bathwater warm,” he grumbled.

After another ten minutes his hair was combed, his body was clean, his clothes were fresh, and he felt like a new mage. He smiled at Clive as he headed for the door, and then he stopped and turned. “Do you know, uh, what happened?” he asked the blackboard.

Clive’s eyes darted around the room. “When? Where? What?”

Alex sighed and added a note to his mental list. “Never mind.”

“Come on, tell me. I won’t tell anybody. I don’t even know anybody.”

Alex flashed a grim smile. “Not yet. I don’t have time. Soon.” He opened the door and slipped out.

He made his way out of the boys’ hallway and into the notvery-secret-anymore-but-still-mostly-hidden hallway. It was quiet there. Alex walked toward Mr. Today’s office, his footsteps echoing, and then he stopped in front of Mr. Today’s private quarters.

“Charlie!” he exclaimed.

The gargoyle approached and began speaking with hand signals.

“I don’t understand,” Alex said. “I—there’s a book somewhere, I’m sure . . .”

Charlie pointed to Mr. Today’s door and then lifted his shoulders in question.

“Oh no,” Alex muttered, his heart sinking. Is it ever going to end? “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go in here. I’m going to explain everything.”

Charlie loped alongside Alex, snapping his finger and thumbs.

Alex had avoided the office so far, but now he took a few tentative steps inside. It was painful going in and seeing all of Mr. Today’s things. He glanced at the wall behind him, and there, as always, were the crazy, stupid dot pictures that were the answer to the riddle that had driven him nuts for the past month. If only he’d been more observant, he might have figured out the clue much faster.

Alex took off Mr. Today’s robe and hung it next to a spare one on the rack in the corner. He ran his fingers along the fabric and let the sleeve drop, and then he turned away. The blackboards were in order as usual. Alex had no idea how they worked. Or how anything worked, really. He had a lot of books to read, for sure. And hopefully, once Ms. Morning was feeling better, she’d be able to help.

Alex looked at Mr. Today’s chair. He’d sat in it before once or twice, during his nightly visits alone or with Sam. But now it seemed too big to fill. Instead he sat in the armchair on the other side of the desk, which was his usual spot. It felt more comfortable for now.

One by one the others trickled in—Florence, Octavia, and Simber—and they sat down in their usual spots as well. Claire Morning’s chair remained empty, and so did Mr. Today’s.

For a few moments, no one said a word. And during those minutes, Alex finally accepted the truth—that from this point forward, he would lead the meetings. He would be the caretaker of Artimé. He would have to protect, provide for, and serve the people here. He would be in charge of everything, and he would be responsible. He would make decisions that could save lives, or cost lives. It was he who would take the wheel and keep Artimé going in the same direction, or change it. He, young Alexander Stowe, Unwanted, was the new mage of Artimé. Like it or not.

There was no time to look back. Only to move forward, to the dots on the horizon, and steer for them.

Life on Warbler

Island

When the next breeze came, Samheed opened his eyes and sat up, hoping it was Lani. He peered around the dimly lit cave, and his newly seeing eyes alighted on a hulk of a man. Samheed stared at him and swallowed hard, trying not

to react. But the man was staring at Samheed as well, as if he expected the boy could see. The man’s orange eyes glowed faintly, and he took three or four rapid steps toward the boy.

Samheed couldn’t help it. He cowered and drew back.

The man gave a sinister smile, reached out as Samheed scrambled to get away, and scooped up the boy with little effort.

Samheed fought, but not as hard as he could—there was really nothing to fight for. He didn’t want to stay in the cave alone. He’d rather die than be stuck there forever. So after a time, he stopped struggling and just watched as the man opened the secret door and took him through a maze of tunnels.

Thorn-necked, orange-eyed people walked about, a few of them chained to the wire above Samheed’s head, but most roamed independently. Some of them carried things like buckets of gold coins, baskets of bread, or armloads of clothing or firewood. Others walked with purpose as if they were in a hurry to get somewhere. He saw one woman with scars around her neck, but no thorns.

Samheed took in everything he could, trying to understand why anyone who had gone through the process of the thorns and the eye colorization would not try to run away. He didn’t understand it.

Then again, he’d been a big supporter of Quill even after he’d been Purged—for a short time, anyway. He wondered what kinds of lies this island’s ruler was telling these people to make them want to stay here.

After a few minutes, the man turned into a cave where a woman sat on a throne watching them. The man set Samheed down and hooked a wire around the boy’s thorny necklace. He locked it with a tiny key, and then connected the other end to the wire above their heads and did the same.