“Raina?” Heath tries to get her attention as Corden buttons up his costume’s squishy, gray arm sleeves, then magically seals them so they look natural. “You have to get dressed. Tara said Red wants us ready at 8:00 a.m. sharp.”

“Ready for what?” She is still staring at the screen. “Classes don’t start for another hour, unless you signed up to do the Power of Posture and Yoga seminar, which I didn’t, but I can see now it would have been amazing. I was just watching Professor Hipwith unroll yoga mats in the library and—”

Heath waves a gray hand in front of her face. “Raina, we’re leaving the ship. Remember? Clearing our names? Getting back our lives? Getting Olivina ousted?”

Raina cocks her head to one side. “Ousted? Olivina is the most popular headmistress Royal Academy has ever known! Hazel just announced it on the magical speaker system, and then Milo the Magic Mirror came on and told all the students how lucky they were to be taught by such a beloved fairy godmother. I don’t think she’s going to retire anytime soon. She’s only one hundred and eighty-four and most fairy godmothers live to be at least three hundred and sixty, according to what Clarissa just looked up on her mini magical scroll so—”

Heath throws up his hands. “Prue? Can you turn that mirror off? Raina’s obsessed.”

“No time,” Prue shouts from her crow’s nest perch. She’s typing away on one of five scrolls while watching another set of mirrors that show a feed of things happening in the countryside, the forest, and the village we’re soon headed toward. “I need to keep all lines of magic open while I work on these access passes for Happily Ever After Scrolls.”

Prue found out the Happily Ever After Scrolls headquarters has a new intern class starting, so she added our group to today’s list of visitors so we can get inside the ogre-only headquarters.

“Hey! Devin! Check out my teeth.” Logan opens his mouth and displays a row of spiky pearly yellows. “Corden made me a set of false chompers. I wonder if I can eat with them. If we’re going to the village, I have to stop at the Three Little Pigs. They have the most inventive fall specials.”

“No eating!” Sasha slides a few bangle bracelets up her ogre arms. (Ogres love shiny things.) “We’ve only got till lunchtime to get this blog uploaded and added to the mini magical scroll system, or we’re never going to get it printed. Prue did some digging, and according to the hate blog IHateHappilyEverAfterScrolls, ogres love taking long lunches so that will be our best shot at getting the blog done.” She flashes us a creepy ogre grin. “I’ll even sit at Misty Scorchfire’s desk. I’ve always wanted to tell her what I really thought about her opinion piece ‘Is Cerulean the New Pink?’ Maybe I’ll leave her a note.”

“No notes!” Tara shouts from the crow’s nest. She grabs hold of a pulley attached to a sandbag and lowers herself to the deck. Her oversize ogre-costume feet hit the wooden planks with a loud thud. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was the real deal. “We leave no trace of ourselves behind.” She checks her pocket watch. “Our escort should be here any moment.” I hear a loud whistle. Tara smiles. “Right on time.”