All Aaron knew was that if his new plan didn’t work, he might as well throw himself into the Great Lake of Boiling Oil, because he’d be more unwanted than the Unwanteds themselves.

He’d already sent Liam and Gondoleery out on the streets of Quill to spread the word about the new threat from Artimé, having them preach far and wide that one of the magical land’s creatures had killed his beloved Secretary. And he’d pushed aside the twinge of guilt that went along with the little white lie. Technically the panther was a creature of Artimé if Mr. Today had created it. And it lived in the jungle, which was a part of Artimé. So it seemed a fair assessment. He just conveniently left out the part where he had been the one to unleash the wild beast.

His mouth went dry as he remembered the horrible scene that had kept him up every night since it happened. He couldn’t understand why he kept thinking about it. For much of his life he’d been able to push thoughts aside, because the laws of Quill required it. Sure, he’d had dreams about his brother now and then even though it wasn’t allowed. He’d felt something when Justine had died, even though he wasn’t supposed to. But Secretary . . . something about her death tore apart his insides in a way that was foreign and extremely frightening.

He stood abruptly and began ripping his drawings into tiny shreds and throwing them into the trash bin. “No!” he shouted. But even he wasn’t sure why.

“Secretary! I require a meeting with the Quillitary—” He stopped short and set his jaw. The old habit of calling for her seemed impossible to break. He had no one now.

There was a noise in the hallway, and soon Liam appeared at the door. “Can I help you, sir? I mean, I heard you calling. I’m happy to, um . . . assist. . . . ”

Aaron looked at Liam. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, indeed. Get me a driver. I need to visit the Quillitary.” He paused. As Liam turned to go, Aaron added, “Come with me.” It was a demand, not a plea.

“Certainly,” Liam said. “I’ll fetch a driver now.”

Ten minutes later the man who had driven Eva Fathom to her meeting with death was driving Liam and Aaron to the place where all the weapons in Quill were kept, as well as all the people who knew how to use them.

Liam focused on his hands, folded in his lap. His eyes were bloodshot from mourning Eva Fathom’s death in private. But now he knew he had to step up and do what she’d prepared him to do.

“May I suggest, High Priest,” Liam said tentatively, looking up, “that we stop at the Favored Farm on our way? A basket of nuts and produce might be a welcome gift to the Quillitary general.”

Aaron scowled. He thought about it for a while as the vehicle puttered along. It sounded like something Secretary would have suggested, and she was usually right with such things. “Fine,” he said.

Liam leaned forward to tell the driver, who maneuvered the vehicle to the side of the road and made the stop.

“I’ll take care of collecting the goods,” Liam said.

Aaron remained in the car, staring sullenly out the window at the wall that surrounded Quill while Liam fetched an enormous burlap bag full of nuts, fruits, and vegetables. When the driver got out of the vehicle to help Liam load the produce into the back of the old jalopy, Liam palmed him some oranges.

The driver glanced at the backseat to make sure Aaron wasn’t looking, then slipped the oranges inside a hidden compartment in the trunk. “Th-thank you,” he said in a voice so soft Liam could scarcely hear him. “I’m sorry about Secretary. When I saw what happened, I had to go. I had to—for my—”

Liam held a hand out. “I know,” he said, his voice quiet too. “She wouldn’t have wanted you to get into trouble.” He glanced at the car. “We need to go.” The two exchanged a look of trust and returned to the vehicle.

“Let’s get on with it, then,” Aaron said. He was cross and a little bit anxious to get the Quillitary visit over with. And he was disgusted by having to ask the Quillitary for help after the way they’d rejected and ridiculed him and kicked him out of university. As they proceeded, he continued to stare moodily out the window at the dingy wall that encircled them, wondering what was going on beyond it, but glad he didn’t have to face that fear.

As they neared the Quillitary, Aaron’s thoughts moved toward wondering whom exactly he’d have to grovel to. Who was in charge now? He hadn’t visited the Quillitary since before he and Justine had discovered Artimé. After the battle, the Quillitary had been very angry with Aaron for messing everything up, and they’d blamed him for Justine’s death—it was no wonder that Aaron wanted nothing to do with them. Aaron hadn’t paid any attention to them ever since.

But now that a meeting was imminent, Aaron realized he had absolutely no idea what had been going on behind the closed doors of the Quillitary since Quill’s defeat. It struck him finally how odd it was that he, the high priest of Quill, wasn’t exactly sure who was leading the Quillitary or what they’d been doing in the yard all this time. All he knew was that General Blair, notorious for tossing the dead body of his own son Will into Artimé, had been killed—Aaron had read it on the death post in the burial grounds more than a year before. Perhaps, thought Aaron, the new general will be easier to deal with.

With that in mind, it was all the more surprising when Aaron and Liam got out of the jalopy, opened the Quillitary gate, and entered the yard for the first time in a very long time. For not only was everything quite different from what Aaron remembered the last time he was here, but striding toward him at an alarming pace was the very last person Aaron had ever expected to see.