Sofia felt a disorienting chill in her gut. “Well . . . he never showed up here. I’ve been watching the chair since I winked in.”

Paul stumbled through the soft sand to stand next to Sofia; Tick joined them as well. Both of the boys had baffled looks on their faces, still glancing at the chair now and then as if expecting Sally to show up.

“You’re sure he didn’t wink in?” Paul asked.

Sofia rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. Where would he possibly hide?”

“Dude,” Paul whispered, and that one word summed up how they all felt.

“What could’ve happened to him?” Tick asked. “Why would we wink here and not him? And what was up with him poking me in the ear?” He rubbed at the side of his head.

“What?” Sofia asked.

“Right before he winked away,” Tick explained, “he acted all weird and slammed his finger into my ear. It hurt, too. Then he sat down and disappeared.”

“He slammed his finger into your ear?” Sofia repeated. “While a giant spider monster was trying to kill you?” It was such a bizarre thing, she couldn’t believe she’d heard him correctly.

Tick shrugged. “Don’t ask me—maybe he went crazy from the panic.”

“What if he’s in trouble?” Paul asked. “I like him—we need to help him. Even if he did try to stab you in the brain.”

Sofia felt the same sadness at Sally’s disappearance. He’d been so humble and sincere; there was just something likable about him. But she also knew that standing there waiting on a nice sunburn wouldn’t help anybody.

“Not much we can do,” she said. “Someone must’ve sent us here for a reason. Let’s go check out that glass thing.” She pointed at the tube that looked like a giant crystal worm stretching into the distant horizon.

“What if Sally shows up and we’re not here?” Paul said.

“He’s an adult,” Tick said. “He can take care of himself or come find us. I agree with Sofia—we should see what that thing is.”

Sofia started walking again. “Come on, then.”

Paul and Tick joined her, all of them marching as best they could up and down the slippery, hot dunes.

~

Master George sat at the head of a long, wooden table, looking around at the few people he’d asked to join him in this special Council on Things That Matter. His last guest had yet to appear, and Master George hoped he would arrive soon. It had been a near thing, winking him away as fast as he had. A large fire roared in the hearth at his back, but it wasn’t enough to rid him of the chill that iced his heart. Things were going badly. Very badly. He reached down and petted Muffintops, who purred and rubbed her back against his leg.