But Tick knew it was real. He’d even asked Kayla about it and she didn’t remember anything about burning the letter. No, Tick knew something magical had happened. Something supernatural. Something miraculous. And he couldn’t wait to ask Master George what it might mean.

He sat at the desk in his room, waiting for his dad. The lamp on the desk provided the only light, failing miserably to push back the gloom. They’d planned all weekend to meet at eight o’clock Sunday evening to discuss the Big Day, and to run through the clues one final time. Though they didn’t really know what they were planning for, it seemed they’d have only one shot at this. Or rather, Tick would have only one shot. The clues had been very clear—he must go alone, unless his dad wanted to drop dead of a heart attack right before the special time.

Tick had just pulled out the Journal of Curious Letters when he heard a soft knock at the door. “Come in,” he called out.

His dad opened the door and shut it behind him. “Twenty-five hours to go, kiddo.”

Tick groaned. “I know. I’ve been dying for this day to come and now that it’s here, I wish we had a week or two more. I’m scared to death.”

“Well, at least you’re honest.” Dad came in and sat on the bed, ignoring the loud creak of the bedsprings, which sounded as if they were about to break. “Most kids would act all tough and say they weren’t scared at all.”

“Then most kids would be faking it.”

His dad clapped his hands together. “Well, we won’t have much time to talk tomorrow night before you go, so let’s run through everything.”

Tick wasn’t ready for that yet. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“What if . . . whatever I do takes me somewhere? Something tells me it will. What if I’m gone a long time?”

His dad’s face melted into a look of deep sadness, all droopy eyes and frowns. “Professor, trust me, I’ve been so worried about all this I can’t sleep at night. How could any good father let his son go off to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what and for who-knows how long? Especially after the dangerous things we’ve been through.” He paused, rubbing his hands together. “But what can I say—I’m nuts? It’s hard to believe in all this—but I believe in you. I’m taking a huge leap of faith, but I’m gonna let you walk out of this house and down that road”—he pointed out the window—“and off to wherever or whatever it is you’ve been called to do. It’s going to kill me, but I’m gonna do it. I’m either the best or the worst dad in history.”