“Where did they go? The people staying in these rooms?” Barclay demanded, panting.

“They already left,” she told them. She huffed as she stripped the sheets off their beds. “In a bit of a hurry too. Left so many bits and baubles. Didn’t even leave a cleaning tip.”

It wasn’t like Ethel and Abel to leave behind any of their collectibles, but sure enough, he spotted a few of Abel’s champion cards and one of Ethel’s notebooks on the bureau. Barclay flipped to the first page of the book, his hands trembling.

There was a detailed sketch of Ethel’s Doppelgheist, notes scribbled along the margins. Except there was one piece of handwriting that didn’t belong. It was cold and precise, its ink bleeding red through the paper. Written, Barclay guessed, before the second exam, when Soren had examined Ethel’s notebook.

I’d like to make you an offer.

Barclay exchanged a dark look with Viola. “No wonder Tadg didn’t trust us. That was who he meant, when he said some Masters had already taken on apprentices. He meant Soren had taken on apprentices… Ethel and Abel.”

TWENTY-TWO

It was them,” Barclay breathed, dropping the notebook and slapping a hand against his forehead. Beside him, Viola looked equally stricken. “Soren didn’t just trap me in the Woods—they led me to him. Maybe when Soren overheard us talking about their Beasts, he was interested—not in taking their Beasts—but in teaching them.”

“He could’ve killed you in the Woods that day!” Viola squeaked. “But why leave now? Why not leave last night with Soren? The center of the Woods isn’t close. They’ll never catch—”

“They will. Abel said they can move faster in mirrors,” Barclay said.

“And the way Soren planted Conley’s notebook to frame Runa… I don’t think it was a coincidence. He probably got the idea from Ethel!”

The room spun around him. Soren had left, and so had Ethel and Abel. Tomorrow was Midwinter. Tomorrow Soren and the twins would greet Gravaldor while he emerged from his lair, and Soren would attempt to bond with him. Whether Soren succeeded or not, the entire Woods was in danger.

“Then we need to find Tadg,” Barclay said hurriedly. “Tadg left to stop him. We need to help him.”

The maid cast each of them a stern look. “And I need to clean.” She ushered them out of the room and into the hallway, but Barclay and Viola were already sprinting downstairs.

“How far is it to the center of the Woods?” he asked Viola.

“At least two days,” she responded.

“Do we have enough supplies?” Barclay asked. He hadn’t been prepared to travel, so his bags weren’t packed.

“We might, but we’ll never make it in time. Neither will Tadg.”

“We will if we run fast.”

Soon Barclay and Viola had bundled themselves in their heaviest clothes, thrown as many supplies as they could into their bags, and raced down the streets of Sycomore. Shopkeepers had decorated their storefronts with candy icicles and glowing Zapling lanterns. The town was loud with carolers and bell chimes and the hisses, caws, and growls of various Beasts.