Aaron froze.

“Well?” said the captor in a gruff voice to his companions. “Is it him, or isn’t it?”

Aaron heard the rustle of a paper as someone held it up next to his face in the light. He gulped and stared into the light, his Adam’s apple rolling along the sharp point at his neck.

“Aye, it’s him all right, Captain.”

The captain chuckled evilly. “Let’s be gone, then.”

They shoved Aaron to the floor and gagged him, and four of them each took a limb and hung him between them, facedown. Aaron’s injured shoulder burned like fire, and he felt like his arms and legs were going to pull right out of their sockets. He fought to keep from crying out, muffled though his shouts would be, fearing retaliation.

They carried him out of the office and down the stairs, past the empty entryway and the room where they’d locked up the guards when they’d first snuck in hours before, and out the door into the night. They crossed over the driveway and skidded down the rocky bank to the water. And then, on three, they threw Aaron face-first into a small boat. There wasn’t time for Aaron to swing his arms around to brace his fall. His head hit the wooden seat, and his body crumpled to the damp floor. Everything went black and quiet.

» » « «

Inside Aaron’s office, Matilda picked herself up, climbed down the desk, ran to the wall, and jumped as high as she could, straining to reach the window ledge. When she finally managed to get a fingerhold on the sill, she pulled herself up and scrambled to her feet, watching as a group of small boats pushed off the shore toward a large pirate ship that sat in the calm water.

She stayed there, keeping watch, as the large ship pulled up all but one of the smaller boats and set sail, heading east.

» » « «

A quarter of the way around the south side of the island, another gargoyle stood on a window ledge watching, waiting for the ship to pass.

Preparing for a Civil War

At dawn Meghan, Carina, Ms. Morning, Gunnar Haluki, and Mr. Appleblossom gathered their troops and sent them to their stations to wait for the surprise attack that wasn’t really a surprise. This was thanks to Liam, who had paid another visit to Meghan three days prior, letting her know that the Quillitary was coming. It was quite a bit sooner than anyone in Artimé had expected, considering that the wall had not come down all the way.

Meghan wondered if Aaron had gotten word that Artimé was suspicious, and had decided to leave the wall destruction to the Necessaries and put the Quillitary on order to attack. Liam hedged a bit, saying he thought it was more likely the Quillitary who was making decisions, but he didn’t know much.

“Are you saying the Quillitary is running this attack, not Aaron?” Meghan had asked him.

“Truly, I don’t know,” he said. He looked more uncomfortable than ever.

That left Meghan puzzled, but it was all she could get out of him before he’d hurried away. Still, she was grateful for the information.

Now, as the leaders stood in the mansion to confer before joining their teams, Charlie the gargoyle tugged at Ms. Morning’s component vest.

“Not right now, Charlie,” Ms. Morning said, distracted. “Unless you’ve caught sight of Alex and Simber and the ship—have you?”

Charlie shook his head.

“Too bad. We could use them. Any other emergencies or imminent danger?”

Charlie thought for a moment, and then shrugged and shook his head again.

“We’ll talk after this confrontation is over, then, all right? Head upstairs and stay safe.”

Charlie nodded and climbed back up the steps to Alex’s office, where he spent so much of his time.

“Everybody ready?” Meghan asked. She’d stepped into her new leadership role as a Magical Warrior trainer in Florence’s absence, and she was very good at her job. Now she stood alongside Ms. Morning, the commander in chief, as an equal. She was armed, dangerous, totally committed, and prepared to fight to the death for Artimé. This young woman who stood by the front door of the mansion today was a far cry from the scared little red-haired girl who had arrived on the property at age thirteen. Meghan Ranger was muscular and cunning. She knew it, and she was proud of it. She only hoped she was cunning enough to keep Artimé’s losses to a minimum and lead her people to victory.

Claire looked around at the other leaders and nodded solemnly. “Yes, we’re ready. Let’s go.” They followed Meghan out of the mansion.

Several teams sat upon the lawn, looking quite like they were having a normal day enjoying the weather and each other’s company. They were seated this way to give the Quillitary a sense that Artimé was not expecting an attack. But each group was set up behind a magical glass wall, which created clear barriers that were undetectable from a distance. These groups were on high alert, ready to fight at a second’s notice.

Other teams lined the border, stationed high up in the trees that had once helped to camouflage the ugly gray wall. Squirrelicorns circled now and then as they often did, this time prepared to report to their groups in the trees any change in the status in Quill.

Still other fighters remained on alert inside the mansion, prepared to attack if the enemy got in, ready to defend their home at all costs.

The absence of Simber left everyone just a little bit unsettled. Surely the Quillitary would notice he wasn’t there, and no doubt they would take advantage of it. There was a chance they wouldn’t notice the absence of other key fighters, including Alex, at least not right away. Meghan could only hope that Artimé’s weaknesses were not exposed too soon. She’d done everything in her power to design this defense, and lives depended on it working right.