Simber wrinkled up his nose. He’d never been painted invisible before. And while most of the components weren’t strong enough to do him any harm because of his large size and makeup, this was a defense component no one had ever tried on him before. After a minute he shrugged. “Verrry well. It’s a good idea, Florrrence.”

“I know,” said Florence frostily. She gave him a side-eye and he snorted, and in that moment it seemed like their friendship was back to how it should be.

But Fifer and Thisbe’s wasn’t.

“Let’s go,” Fifer said, and Thisbe nodded tersely. There was no time to address their many issues, and frankly neither had the desire to do so—not with so many other people’s lives at stake. They needed to gear up for a most difficult battle. But would they be able to overcome their limited abilities and resources? Fifer and Thisbe didn’t need to be friendly to work together on this task. But they also knew that they could get everything right and still lose. The mansion, their friends… their homeland. When put that way, this situation wasn’t looking hopeful at all.

Back to the Drawing Board

In the library, Ms. Octavia worked while the others slept—they’d stayed up searching for information until exhaustion set in and they could only guess whether it was day or night, for there were no windows in the remote rooms to let sunlight in.

Octavia was making strides. Instead of drawing a 3-D door with all of its dings and grooves and swirly wood knots, she’d decided on something a bit simpler—the window in her classroom. Every year with the new Unwanteds she’d taught them the 3-D door process by starting with that window. And while few over the years had accomplished bringing the window to 3-D life, enabling them to crawl through it onto the lawn, Alex Stowe had done it in his first year. He’d gone on to develop his phenomenal drawing skills, using this same drafting table to create a door that led to his twin brother Aaron’s room in the university in Quill. That had caused a lot of problems, though, including exposing all of Artimé to the people who had sent the Unwanteds to their deaths. It wasn’t exactly Alex’s finest hour. But he’d turned out all right… and, in the end, so had Aaron. Octavia’s heartstrings tugged as she thought about Alex, her most prized student, and she moved away from the table just in time for a tear to splash on the rug instead of on her drawing. It was never easy seeing one of her protégés leave them too early.

These memories churned through Ms. Octavia’s mind as she sketched on the glass-top table. Gentle blue light shone up through it, creating a comforting glow and helping her make each stroke precise. This window was the octogator’s best shot at performing such a difficult task from memory. Any other attempt would be fruitless—there was just no way to memorize all the minute intricacies of any door and retain them. Not at her age, anyway.