“Well, that’s a point I hadn’t gotten to yet,” said Samheed, though he flashed an embarrassed grin at Clementi. A memory struck him, and he turned to look at the sign that pointed out what subjects could be found on each floor. He studied it. “There are loads of maps up on the third floor, I remember. Perhaps there’s a blueprint of some sort that will give us some insight.” He started up, and then stopped abruptly and turned to the others. “There’s also a lighted drafting table up there. Alex used it to work on his first 3-D door.” He paused and looked curiously at Ms. Octavia. “Is there any chance you could replicate a 3-D door from memory?”

“Which door?”

“Any door that’ll get us out of here.”

Ms. Octavia lifted her snout, thinking hard. “I highly doubt it’ll work. 3-D doors are extremely difficult to get right even when you have a picture for reference. And it could take days of work before we know if we’re successful.” She tapped her jutting chin. “But then again, we also don’t know how long we’ll be stuck here.”

“Exactly,” said Aaron in a low voice. “So I say it’s worth a try.”

Ms. Octavia nodded and set her glasses on her snout, then headed for the stairs. “No time to waste.”

A New Dilemma

Fifer, still weak and shaking from the heart attack spells, sat up somewhere in the jungle, her magic carpet already gone with a poof. The hammock was on the ground nearby with the 3-D drawing still rolled up and sitting in the middle of it. A few birds perched above in the trees. After a moment of simply breathing, Fifer tested her arms, pressing her palms into the soft, mossy jungle floor, then pushed herself up. She stood, then picked up the drawing and began limping slowly through the jungle, trying to find a path, and pausing now and then to catch her breath. Her knees continued to quake from her near-death experience.

It was surprisingly hard for Fifer to wrap her mind around the fact that Frieda Stubbs had tried to kill her. Sure, there had been threats. But this was a solid attempt, and it made Fifer wonder if the woman had truly gone crazy. Frieda had launched three heart attack spells at Fifer without so much as a blink. That made her inhuman in Fifer’s mind. Fifer didn’t really know what had happened after the first component had struck her. But the coldness of the act was chilling—someone from Artimé, an Unwanted, had tried to kill her. Her. It was a good thing Frieda hadn’t noticed that Aaron had been sent through the tube with the others, or she might have gone after him, too. Frieda Stubbs had gone from reckless to dangerous. And she was leading people in that direction right along with her.

Kitten was fine. One of the falcons had scooped her up from the windowsill and carried her out to where Fifer’s magic carpet had run out of steam. Now the tiny white cat nestled on Fifer’s shoulder, purring as she slept. But Fifer was far from content. Everything was in an uproar. When her mind cleared, she stopped for a moment to examine the drawing that she’d risked so much to procure. Luckily, it appeared unscathed, despite the battle raging around it. Satisfied, Fifer continued, carrying it carefully under her arm. They needed Simber now more than ever… as long as he was actually their ally.