“What?” Jorick exclaimed. “How many evil schemes do these people have?”

The door burst open, and the Swamp Witch backed into the room, dragging something in with her.

“Just the one, lad,” she croaked as she strained to pull whatever she was dragging through the door. “Everything else that has happened the past few days has all been leading up to this. Be a dear and get out of my way.”

Jorick scooted back against a bookshelf as Hennea pulled a short metal slab into the center of the room. Upon reaching the space directly beneath the grating, she let the slab fall with a hollow thud against the round rug. Something rattled inside the slab, then quickly fell silent.

Looking between the slab and the grate, Hennea dragged the slab a bit deeper into the room. Satisfied, she stood back up, panting for breath. Placing her gnarled hands on her lower back, she leaned back, her wrinkled face contorted in pain.

“My dear husband will definitely need to find some younger lackeys after his ascension,” she said.

Across the room, Jorick slowly began to scoot toward the open door. Evin held his breath as he watched. Maybe his friend could get out before Hennea noticed, find some weapons, free himself …

“Not so fast!” Hennea leaped over the small metal slab and slammed the door shut. She wagged her finger in his face. “Now is not the time to try and escape, not after you’ve been so good the past few hours, lad.”

Face red and jaw clenched, Jorick looked up at her. “Go jump off the keep, you ugly old hag.”

“Oh deary me,” Hennea croaked, patting her wispy white hair. “I thought I already told you. I am not a hag. I am a wizard!” She pulled her wand from the folds of her robe and pointed it at Jorick. A bolt of green light shot from its tip, hitting him in the stomach. He doubled over.

“Jorick!” Bet cried.

“Betilivatis, hush up,” the Swamp Witch said. “It has been quite a long day.”

All three fell silent as Hennea went about examining the slab and making sure everything was in place. Only then did Evin notice its leather straps at the top and bottom edges.

Jorick’s eyes darted between Evin’s face and side, as though he was gesturing toward …

The quill.

Evin nodded subtly to show he understood. Making sure that Hennea’s expansive back was to him, he mouthed, “I’m working on it.” He forced the quill’s hard, pointed end into the tight knot that held his binds in place.

“My darling, are the preparations almost ready?” The deep voice of Sefron came through the slatted holes of the grate. “The moon is full and coming into the right position.”

“Coming along, sweetheart,” the Swamp Witch croaked as she hustled around the slab. “I will have one ready in but a moment, and then I shall give the word.”

“Excellent.”