“He would have, Alex, I’m sure of it. He tried with me, you know. He was getting anxious about training someone, just in case, and of course he trusted me. But I was always too busy with my music or my classes, or simply not interested. . . . I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.”

“I’ll try to get you back for that,” Alex teased.

“I believe you will.” Ms. Morning grinned at him.

Alex held out his hand. “We’ll see you when we see you, Ms. Morning.”

Ms. Morning took it. “Claire,” she said.

Alex nodded. “Claire,” he repeated. He felt like a grown-up.

“Take care, Alex. Make wise choices and you’ll be fine.”

Alex nodded, surprised by the welling of emotion in his chest. It made him think of his father . . . and the Warbler children . . . and how Claire’s words were something a parent should say. Words Alex had never heard from his own parents. “Thanks,” he said, turning away.

He looked at the lineup of the crew. “My, we are a motley bunch,” he said, making a joke to chase away the lump in his throat. From giant Florence to tiny Kitten, from gruff Simber to a half-dozen rigid squirrelicorns, from crazy Captain Ahab fresh from the prop closet to efficient Ms. Octavia and her flying appendages, and from Unwanted boy-mage Alex to brave-hearted Sky and Crow, the Artiméan army came in all shapes and sizes and colors and origins. But they were the strongest assembled crew Alex had ever seen. It occurred to him that he should tell them that.

He looked at each person and creature, really looked at them, thinking about their strengths. And then he addressed them in a strong, steady voice. “You make me feel safe,” he said. “You bring honor to Artimé and to those who are in need of our help.” He scanned the group, all of whom stood in silent reverence as they listened to their mage. He noticed a tear slipping down Sky’s cheek, and it almost made him choke up once more. He cleared his throat and continued. “There’s no place I’d rather be than on a rescue adventure with you.” He paused. “We have a hard journey ahead, and we don’t know what will happen. We’ll face lots of trouble, I’m sure—it seems to follow us, doesn’t it? But I won’t despair if you don’t.” He smiled and brought his fist to his chest.

The others, even the statues, did the same.

“Any questions?”

There was silence.

Alex nodded. “Well then, crew, all aboard.”

A New Energy in the Palace

When Aaron woke, safe in the palace despite his nightmares, it felt like his brain had sorted out a dozen things for him. As if an instruction book had been handed to him overnight, Aaron knew what he had to do. It was so clear!

He propped himself up in bed, took a piece of paper and a pencil from his bedside table, and let the pencil roam over the paper like he’d done before, drawing bloblike circles and crooked triangles and squares. It helped him think.

And that’s exactly what he needed—to think just a little bit differently, like he’d done when he came up with the plan for the Favored Farm. Only this time, Aaron needed to realize all of the potential that was right in front of him. To be clear, he knew that following Justine’s ways in Quill was still the best plan. And he would continue following that. But Aaron had a new element to consider, which Justine never could have dreamed of. And being the strong, intelligent Wanted that he was, his very own mind had come up with it. Aaron needed to be in that jungle, winning over and training that army of misfits. That was all there was to it. Those creatures were his secret weapons, and he would tell no one about them.

But he couldn’t neglect Quill, because his people needed some direction too, and definitely some nudging and motivation to get them ready for the ultimate fight. So while Aaron was out training the jungle creatures, somebody had to be in the palace to watch over things in Quill—to slowly mold the Wanteds and Necessaries into a stronger, more loyal society, and to get them angry again. They needed to build up their anger to an intensity to want to fight, like before. It might take a while, but with perseverance and a solid plan that included Aaron’s secret weapons of the jungle, all of Quill would one day come together for a major attack on Artimé from all directions. The Unwanteds wouldn’t know what hit them. It was absolutely, utterly the most perfect plan in the history of Quill.

Aaron set his scribblings aside and got out of bed. He hurried to wash and dress, and he headed straight to his office.

“Breakfast!” he barked at a passing maid, and then, “Secretary!”

Eva Fathom was in earshot. She hurried over to Aaron’s doorway. “Yes?”

“Has the work begun on the opening to Artimé?”

“Yes,” Eva said. “People are moving as quickly as they can. We had to assemble—”

“I need you to halt the work immediately.”

Eva’s mouth hung open. Slowly she closed her lips. “May I ask why?”

Aaron leaned back in his chair. “I’ve decided that while it’s important to close off Quill completely from outside aggressors, we need to deal with the ones encroaching on our own island first. Obviously, we can’t take over Artimé if we don’t have access to it. Once we have control of their property and we do away with all the Unwanteds, we’ll build a new length of wall to enclose everything, including that mansion, within Quill.” He folded his arms, pleased by his own cleverness.