Okay, this e-mail has both of your addresses on it, so be sure and do that from now on so we can keep in touch. Paul, this is Sofia. Sofia, this is Paul. I’ll forward the different
e-mails to everyone later. Sofia needs to know that Paul seems to think he’s something special. :)

Paul, did you really figure out the magic words? Are you serious? You really can’t tell us? I’ve looked at that first letter over and over and over and I can’t find the answer! Sofia, Rutger told Paul we’re allowed to share and help each other, BUT NOT ABOUT THE MAGIC WORDS.

(If I ever get my hands on that guy . . . )

Sofia and I will just have to start figuring out a way to get you to tell us anyway.

Tick went on to write a very long e-mail, telling the story of Alaska and a little about himself and Sofia. When he finally finished and turned off the computer, Tick’s eyes hurt. He was just standing when his mom called everyone in for dinner.

~

Frazier Gunn sat in his little prison cell and brooded.

How had it come to this? He’d been having a dandy of a time in Alaska, pulling off his plan to take care of two of the bratty kids George was scheming with—and poof. Everything fell to pieces.

After being knocked out in the freezing cold cemetery, Frazier had awakened in this teeny little room, which was barred and chained with enough locks to hold the Great Houdini. The walls of his cell were made of metal, lines of rivets and bolts all over the place. He felt like a grenade locked in an old World War II ammunition box.

And he’d been here for over three months. His captor had obviously injected him with a shockpulse because his nanolocator was dead, not responding whenever he tried to send a signal to Mistress Jane. Plus, if it had been working, she would’ve winked him away a long time ago. Of course, that fate might be worse than his current one. The woman had a nasty temper and low tolerance for failure.

At least he had a comfortable bed in which to sleep. And delicious food slipped through a small slot on the bottom of the door three times a day without fail. He’d been given books to read and a small TV with a DVD player and lots of movies. Mostly about cats, oddly enough, but still, it was enough to keep him occupied for a while.

But three months. He felt his mind slipping into an abyss of insanity.