Mrs. Havener, the librarian, peered at him from behind the desk. Though very slender, she always wore a heavy Winter coat and three pairs of mittens layered over one another, making her look like a stuffed scarecrow. Barclay had never known if this was because Mrs. Havener was perpetuatlly cold or because she was very proud of her wife’s prolific knitting.

“Are you feeling all right, dear?” she asked. “Your cheeks are all flushed!”

Barclay raised a hand to his face, and it was hot to the touch. “I feel fine,” he lied, making his face flush even deeper.

Mrs. Havener reached for a stack of books behind her and slid them to Barclay.

“We have new books from the city! This one is The Extensive History of the One Hundred Kingdoms.…” Indeed, the tome was large enough to be mistaken for a leather-bound trunk. “The Encyclopedia of Foraging Finds… Ordered that one for Mr. Pilzmann… Oh! And this one I ordered especially for you, Barclay.”

She handed him a copy of an adventure story titled Myths of Monstrosity. Its cover featured a dragon’s head staked on a sword.

Normally, Barclay would thrill at such a story of danger and heroism. But now he cringed, thinking of Mitzi and the girl and everything that had happened in the Woods.

“I—I think I’ll take the history one for now.” He groaned as he picked up the gigantic book.

Mrs. Havener’s face fell in disappointment. “I thought you loved adventure stories.”

“I’m not really the adventure type,” he barely managed to squeak out.

Then he thanked Mrs. Havener and left, hoisting the massive book into his arms. He headed in the direction of the town hall, and the closer he walked, the more decorations he passed.

There was a festival in Dullshire tonight, celebrating events from not just one kingdom but two. Because Dullshire was so rural and insignificant, none of the neighboring kingdoms that surrounded the Woods had bothered to lay proper claim to it. Occasionally a tax collector came from one duchy or a trader visited from some far-off realm, but the people of Dullshire were quite confused by it all. So, always preferring to be safe than sorry, the town celebrated the holidays of all of its nearby kingdoms. Today marked both the coronation of Konig Gebherd of Humdrum and the birthday of Princess Katrin of Diddlystadt.

Though Master Pilzmann had given Barclay and Selby the day off to celebrate, Barclay wasn’t so sure he wanted to join the festivities. As much as he’d like to sample the food, he knew he shouldn’t be calling attention to himself in case someone discovered the Mark.

But even if it was for the best, it was hard not to stop as he passed the town square.

There was dancing—couples skipping to double-timed beats with arms linked, fiddlers and drummers playing along from the balcony of the town hall. Food stalls lined the edges of the courtyard, beckoning Barclay closer with smells of apple dumplings and potato pancakes. The decorations were dizzyingly colorful: the blue and gold streamers of the Humdrummish flag clashing with Diddlystadt’s vibrant orange, black, and green. There were no balloons, of course—balloons had been banned since that disastrous jousting match between Mr. Bielke and his goat last year—and the lawmakers had recently forbidden all tournaments of beanbags or hopscotch. But even in a town full of rules, there were still plenty of ways to have fun.