With a heavy heart he opened up his Journal of Curious Letters to torture himself by studying the spot where Master George’s first letter had once been glued, safe and sound. When the front cover flipped over and fell in his lap, Tick looked at something he couldn’t understand. He stared for a very long time at the page before him, his mind shifting into overdrive trying to comprehend the message his eyes were frantically sending down the nerve wires to his brain. A message that was impossible.

The first letter was there, glued to the page like it had always been, not a burn mark or blemish to be found. It was there! How . . . ?

Master George—or someone—had just pulled off the coolest magic trick Tick had ever seen.

~

Kayla had just poured the last cup when she heard loud thumps from upstairs—was somebody jumping up there?—followed by happy screams of joy. It was Tick, and he sounded like he’d just received a personal letter from Santa Claus.

What a weirdo, she thought, taking a sip of her tea.

~

Far away, Master George sat upright in his ergonomic chair, staring at the flashing lights of his Command Center. He shook his head, feeling a bit dazed. He’d just been readying himself to . . . do something.

He couldn’t remember what exactly.

He’d been thinking about . . . Atticus Higginbottom.

But why? It was as if a bubble in his brain had popped, taking the last few minutes of his life with it. It was downright maddening—he couldn’t remember anything. Why was he even sitting in the chair? He only sat here when someone had made a Pick—or if someone had burned their letter. He shook his head. Had someone burned their letter? Had Atticus burned his letter?

He looked up at the computer screen, counting the purple check marks. No. Everyone was accounted for, the mark by Atticus’s name glowing bright and steady. That was good. The special day was coming up quickly and Master George couldn’t afford to lose a single member of the group. Especially not Atticus.

I really must be getting old.

Bewildered, he stood up, calling for Muffintops, and thinking how much he’d like a nice pot of peppermint tea.

Chapter

35

~

The Final Preparation

By Sunday night, Tick had heard back from Paul and Sofia about the strange incident with the burned letter and its miraculous reappearance. They were as shocked and clueless as he was about how or why it happened. Paul wasn’t shy about expressing his doubt that it had occurred at all. His theory was Tick had been so stressed out about the magic words that he’d experienced one whopper of a bizarre dream.