The last few days had been awful for Lexy. Marcel Bottle had realized that something was wrong with his daughter, but whenever he asked her what it was, she’d just snapped at him. As a result, Lexy’s parents were now talking about sending her to a counselor who specialized in difficult children. Which would be great—just another person she’d have to lie to.

And they weren’t even that bothered about her being away for the night. Hazel had packed Lexy’s overnight bag without much emotion. Maybe they were looking forward to her not being there.

Lexy felt completely and utterly alone.

And now she was in the Bottle family car being driven by JP toward the Old Town University. She had no idea what was going to happen to her. She’d been bathing in milk and rose petals for the last two days, as per JP’s instructions—yet another thing that had got her into trouble with her parents. (“Where did you even get all this stuff?” Marcel had asked. “And what did it cost?” Hazel had said.) She had eaten only Turkish delight. (“Why won’t you even eat one mouthful of your dinner?” Marcel had implored. “She’s just doing it to upset us,” Hazel had said. “And to get attention. Just ignore it.”) She had learned to do her hair in a very intricate braid according to instructions JP had given her, and had practiced the complicated makeup and body paint she was to wear for the ritual—whatever that was—on Monday evening. (“Take that off right now! Hazel had said. “You’re way too young for makeup,” Marcel had agreed. “She’s just showing off because we have a guest,” Hazel had concluded.)

Lexy had no way of telling them that she was doing all this for them. So they would be seen as good hosts. And also now so that Effie wouldn’t be killed. And Buttons. And to make the world safe. JP’s requests had become very strange recently, but at least he had not tried to arm wrestle her again, or kiss her. Now that she’d agreed to obey all his instructions he’d become even a little cold. But that was fine with Lexy. The less attention he paid her the better. She despised him.

The Bottle family car chugged up the hill toward the Old Town University, its occupants both lost in their own silent contemplation. JP didn’t drive it through the main gates, however, but through a partially hidden back entrance. He parked the car by some old stables.

“Right, little lady, out you get.”

Lexy got out of the car. JP slammed the door behind her and locked it.

“What about my bag?” Lexy said.

“Oh, you won’t need that,” said Jupiter Peacock. “We’ll be providing you with an outfit suitable for a maiden being sacrificed.”

“What?!” said Lexy. “Sacrificed? But—”