Jorick rolled his eyes. “You can’t seriously just sit back and expect to take this, can you? After what these two did to everyone? To us? We’ve got to stop them!”

Evin wanted to tell Jorick it was over. They’d done something awful, now they had to pay the price. But he said nothing.

Bet, however, smiled at Jorick. “Well, pray tell, what do you suggest we do?”

“Um,” Jorick said. “Well, we need a plan. Evin?”

“Me?” Evin asked. “Why me? I don’t know anything. I’m just an orphan, like you.”

Jorick nodded. “Sure, but you were supposed to be the smart one! That’s what my fake memories told me, and that’s why I was always asking you what to do. Unless Sefron made those up too. I mean, you never seemed too bright to me.”

Evin’s despair drifted away, and for just a moment he felt a spark of himself again—the spark that told him he was tired of people underestimating him all his life. “Oh really?” Shoving his feet against the rug they sat upon, Evin turned himself in a circle. The rug beneath him caused friction beneath his trousers.

Then he saw the pile of weapons and Bet’s satchel sitting by the door.

“Well, I suppose we could always grab our weapons from the pile where Hennea put them, slice through our bonds, arm ourselves, and make a grand escape,” Evin said. Meeting Jorick’s eyes, he said, “Looks like Hennea is the stupid one, not me.”

“I knew those were there,” Jorick said.

“Oh, wait,” Bet said. “Before you—”

She didn’t get a chance to speak before Jorick scooted across the floor to the weapon pile. Each thump of his body against the floor rattled the bookshelves lining the walls. A bird skull atop the desk clattered, its beak chattering.

Just as Jorick reached the pile, green sparks flew and Jorick fell backward.

“Ow!” He cried. “Why does that always happen to me?”

Bet shrugged. “I tried to warn you. Hennea likes to lay little magic traps to mess with people. Always makes Sefron laugh.”

Evin furrowed his brow. “Are those two really married? She seems a bit, ah …”

“Old for him?” Bet finished, then shrugged again. “Like we established, they are insane. Seems like a perfect match.”

Rolling back up into a sitting position, Jorick scowled. “I think I prefer life in Kellachstan,” he grumbled. “Sure I had to box in sewers and eat out of the trash, but at least there weren’t any magic or monsters.”

“Hey now,” Bet said. “I’m magic, and I’m not so bad, am I?”

“No,” Jorick responded. “But you are slow to warn people who are heading into traps.”