The protests in Artimé continued long into the night. Lani helped Kaylee and Daniel get into the mostly secret hallway through a 3-D door that she kept hidden in her room for just such emergencies. The two escaped safely via the tube to the Island of Shipwrecks. Then Lani called an emergency meeting with some of the others who considered the Stowes to be friends. They also met in the mostly secret hallway to avoid as many dissenters as possible—including Frieda Stubbs, who wasn’t able to see the entrance because she, like most of Artimé’s residents, wasn’t quite magical enough.

Florence was there, and Simber snuck in once Frieda went to bed. Samheed, Scarlet, Henry and Thatcher, and Sean and Carina and Seth were all there too—Seth having triumphantly discovered upon his return to Artimé that he could see the magical hallway now. This was his first meeting in that wing, and he felt rather important to be the youngest in attendance, despite being bleary-eyed with exhaustion and worry.

He knew better than to sit near Simber, who was still very angry about what Aaron had done. There was no way Simber would forgive the former head mage as long as Frieda Stubbs was in charge—that much was obvious. Once everyone had arrived, Lani updated them with all that she knew.

“Aaron, Thisbe, Fifer, and Sky are safe on the Island of Legends,” she said.

“Ibrahim and Clementi are there too,” Henry added for those who hadn’t heard yet.

Seth frowned. He was the only one stuck here.

“Florence,” said Lani. “Has there been any progress on a plan to defeat the Revinir? Do we know when she’ll get here? Where are the updates?”

“Frieda’s in charge of the updates now,” said Florence, not trying to hide her sarcasm. “And she’s choosing to pretend that nothing is happening.”

“Great,” said Seth, sitting up in alarm. “We’re all going to die.”

Nobody jumped to contradict him, which was even more frightening.

“We’ve got a team working on the obliterate spell,” said Florence, pointing to Carina and Seth. “It’s our only hope on such short notice. I’m authorizing a limited number of them and assigning who they’ll go to.”

“Yikes,” said Samheed. He’d seen firsthand what it could do. “Alex never wanted to produce that one again.”

“I know.” Florence’s voice was terse. “But Alex . . . well. You know.”

Samheed nodded. “I know—he’s not here.” He thought for a moment. “I could imagine him changing his mind under these circumstances. We’re up against a wall.” He frowned, hoping Claire was on her way.