“Thank you, Fairy Godmother,” my mother gushes. “I’m sure they’ll agree to come back!”

“But this scroll…” My father tries again.

Olivina waves him away. “Let’s hope for the best. Who knows? They might even be back in time for our masquerade ball! Wouldn’t that be lovely? Now if you excuse me, I do have a school to run. Thank you so much for coming. And don’t forget to take your complimentary copy of my book, Cursed Childhood: How to Avoid Being a Target for Sleeping Curses and Poison Apples, on your way out.” She waves. “Till we see each other again. And I do hope it’s soon!” She laughs gaily until Hazel closes the door behind them. Then her smile fades. “We need to make sure none of those children ever return to Royal Academy.”

Hazel writes something down. “But even the other parents have been calling. The ones from last year too. Even someone who knows that Tara girl.”

“I don’t care! Make sure, Hazel. I mean it.” Olivina’s eyes darken. “I’ll find a way to push Snow off the scent. Rose is on board, of course. We don’t need anyone messing with our plans.” She begins to pace. “We will dazzle them all at the masquerade ball, and this talk of misfits and outlaws will be forgotten. I am sure of it.”

“And if not?” Hazel asks.

“Then we will find a way to deal with the parents too.” Olivina walks away from the screen.

Around me, the only sounds I hear are crickets and an occasional owl. The gargoyles are gone. The last of the fire is out except for a few flaming embers. We stare at the empty mirror in disbelief.

Logan starts to laugh loopily. “Well, guess we’re never going home now. Have you all ever thought of putting an extension on the tree house? Because if I’m staying here, I’d like a well-equipped kitchen.”

“We’re not staying here, are we?” Raina asks, the worry in her voice mounting.

I slump down, feeling defeated again. The scroll didn’t stick. Our parents couldn’t get through to Olivina. I wonder where Logan’s firebird feather is right now, because at the moment, I’m starting to think it really was a bad omen.

“Where else would we go?” Heath asks.

Raina turns to the mirror again. I’m worried she’s going to sink back into her stupor. Instead, she touches her hand to the glass, then looks back at us. “Wouldn’t it be great if that conversation between Hazel and Olivina could be replayed? But mirrors don’t do that, I guess. They show the here and now.” She looks at Prue. “Right?”

Prue opens her mouth and closes it several times, reminding me of a bullfrog that is having trouble catching flies. (It’s all in the right tongue flick.) “I haven’t tried to do that before, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t work. I wish I knew how to do it right now.”

“And I wish we knew more about this masquerade ball,” Corden cuts in. “It hasn’t been mentioned on the mirrors before now. Can you imagine what Marta is cooking up for those dresses? I would make the most epic masks. Not just eye masks. Full-face masks with feathers. And pearls and…well, great disguises.”