But Agatha noticed the prince was eating his third chocolate cookie, which meant everything wasn’t fine at all. She clasped his hand to comfort him and noticed it slick with sweat. Tedros drew it away.

“Hot in here,” he said, even though it wasn’t.

Agatha tried to look supportive.

“I’m not scared,” Tedros said loudly. “Even if Merlin doesn’t come back, I’ll command the Lady of the Lake to let us through. I can lead this war all on my own!”

“After Lancelot beats you into another pile of crap, you mean,” snorted Hort.

Tedros ignored him and took another cookie.

Through the archway, Agatha could see the old heroes gathered around the dining room table, the tiny, paired-up figurines still in place on the surface. The League members were no doubt having a similar conversation about Merlin’s disappearance.

“I say we all go to sleep,” Dot yawned. “Sleep always fixes things.”

No one had a better plan.

Hours later, Agatha curled up in a blanket on the floor of the guest room, listening to the house rumble with every tone of snore and snuffle imaginable. She’d given the bed to Dot, Anadil, and Hester, who spooned and slept on each other like puppies, occasionally knocking one of their pillows down onto Agatha’s head.

It wasn’t like she could sleep anyway. All she could think about was whether Merlin had made a fatal mistake leaving her and Tedros in this safe house for so long. It’d been almost three weeks since the Lady of the Lake had stashed them here. They’d been lulled into the languid pace and tranquility of Guinevere and Lancelot’s life, forgetting that out in the Woods, legendary heroes were dead and Readers like her were losing their faith in Good. Here on the moors, the sun was strong and bright, the food was plentiful, and they were safe from Evil . . . while in real life, darkness was falling, an Evil army was rising, and her best friend was fighting at the School Master’s side. What would it be like when they went back through the portal? Would she and Tedros be ready for what they’d find?

If they went back through the portal, that is.

If Merlin ever returned for them.

Her heart flurried faster and she knew that if she didn’t find a way to sleep now, she wouldn’t sleep at all. She pulled her blanket tighter, about to roll over—

Only there was something odd about the blanket. It was thicker than usual, with furry, velvety fabric that smelled like a musty cabinet. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw the purple inseam . . . the lining stitched with silver stars . . .

Agatha gasped.

Chest pounding, she yanked the wizard’s cape over her head and felt herself floating through violet sky before she landed softly on a cloud . . .

Merlin was waiting for her.

Agatha sat cross-legged in white mist beside him, her shoulder touching his. For a short while, neither of them said a word, basking in the vast silence of the Celestium. Just being next to the wizard again made Agatha feel calmer, even if he did look alarmingly thin.