The nurses murmured to Meghan and to each other, little bits of encouragement that gave Alex hints at what was happening as they applied a magical ointment and tried working the metal bits loose so they could tug them out of her skin. But the incisions had healed well, fusing together with the metal, and the thorns were stuck fast.

After several minutes of struggling with nothing giving way, the nurses stepped back. Meghan searched Alex’s face wildly, begging him with teary eyes to do something.

Alex swallowed hard. He felt so helpless. He had no idea what to do.

Sean tugged at his hair. “Isn’t there a spell or something? Anything?”

The loss of Mr. Today hit hard at that moment. There would be many times like this in the future, they all felt it.

But then, from across the room, came a weak whisper. “Alex.”

Alex rushed over to Ms. Morning’s side. “She’s awake!” he cried. His hands shook.

Claire closed her eyes again, and with great effort, she nodded. When he leaned down, she whispered in his ear, “Dissipate. Using the robe may help.” She drew a pained breath. “Careful. Dangerous. Be very . . . ,” she rasped, and paused to take another breath. “Precise. And concentrate on the thorns.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “Okay,” he whispered. He glanced up at the others, who were all looking on anxiously. “I’ll be right back.”

He ran out of the hospital ward and took the steps three at a time—he’d never been able to do that before, he noted, but there was no time to marvel at his own awesomeness. Across the balcony and down the secret hallway he went, turning sharply into Mr. Today’s office and grabbing one of the robes from the rack. He tore back through the hallway, shoving his arms into the robe, and clipped down the stairs into the hospital ward, coming to an abrupt stop in front of Meghan.

He caught his breath and fastened the robe properly, then flexed his fingers and looked his best friend in the eye. “Ms. Morning said this is a dangerous spell.” His eyes roamed the room, stopping at Ms. Octavia. “I suppose I should just be here alone with Meghan so no one hears me say it . . .”

Ms. Octavia held up three tentacles. “Say no more. Let’s go, everyone. Out.”

Florence, Octavia, and the nurses filed out. Sean looked concerned. He turned to Meghan. “Are you okay with him trying it?”

Meghan gazed into his eyes. After a moment she nodded.

Sean looked at Alex. “Don’t mess it up,” he warned.

Alex’s stomach twisted. “Right. Of course not. No pressure.”

As Sean reluctantly left the room, Alex grabbed Meghan’s hand. “Are you absolutely sure? I don’t know what could happen, but I promise I’ll be extremely careful.”

Meghan nodded firmly. She’d made up her mind.

“Okay, then. Hold very still.” Alex let go of her and made a fist with his left hand, trying to stop it from shaking, but Ms. Morning’s warning to be precise had seemed to set his body off in the opposite direction. He stretched his fingers out, blew on them, and took a deep breath. And then he carefully placed the tip of his thumb and forefinger on the end of a section of metal, making sure his fingers didn’t touch Meghan’s hair, neck, or any other part of her body. And then he closed his eyes and concentrated on the thorns, thought about what he wanted to do. He made one last check to be sure he wasn’t touching any part of Meghan, only the metal, and then whispered, “Dissipate.”

The section of metal faded away, and the skin deflated and puckered around the holes.

Alex stepped back and breathed. “Whoa,” he said, “it worked. A piece totally just disappeared. Unbelievable.”

Meghan bit her lip. She poked Alex in the arm and nodded impatiently, pointing to her neck.

“Okay, okay. Let’s do the next section.” Now that he knew what would happen, the thought of accidentally touching Meghan while saying the spell gave him a slight stroke. What if he accidentally made Meghan’s neck—or worse, Meghan’s whole self—disappear? No wonder nobody seemed to know about this spell. “Hold still,” he said. He placed his fingers on the next section, focused, and repeated the spell. The section disappeared just like the other had, leaving a strange, intriguing pattern of scars around her neck. “It’s working,” he muttered. “Next one.” He did the third section, and then the fourth, and the fifth, all the way around, until he came to the last one, the piece right in front. It was the piece that kept her from being able to speak at all. “Here we go,” he said. Nervous sweat dripped from his temples. He touched the metal piece, whispered the verbal component, and watched it slowly disappear. With an enormous sigh of relief, he stepped back and wiped his face with his sleeve. “I’m done,” he said softly.

Meghan lifted her hand to her neck and touched it gingerly, all around, feeling the tiny holes and scar lines.

“Does it hurt?”

Meghan bit her lip, and then she parted them as if to speak. Alex leaned forward, straining, as Meghan took a breath and whispered in a cluttered, choked sort of way, “Only a little.”

For a Brief Moment

An enormous grin spread across Meghan’s face. “I can talk!” she half whispered, half croaked. “It feels so weird. . . .” She trailed off. “I hope the squeaks go away,” she said, squeaking.

“Woo-hoo!” Alex shouted. He embraced her, and then

they flung open the doors to the hall outside the hospital ward, where Sean and the others had been standing around anxiously.