One was a map, the ink faded and water-spotted. A wavery title arched over the drawing. “Gray Lady.” He sat back on his heels. Gray Lady was the mountain at the edge of the Vale where the Wizard Council House was located, along with homes of the most prominent wizards in the Vale. He scanned the drawing. On the map, the mountain appeared to be honeycombed by tunnels, with several entrances marked prominently.

A note was scrawled on the back, in his own handwriting. Keep hidden; keep safe.—H. Alister.

It was totally unfamiliar. Where had it come from? What did it mean?

Was Aediion bleeding over into real life?

He sorted through the other pages. They were charms, written in a language so archaic he could scarcely make them out. At the bottom, initialed with a series of large elaborate letters, was HRMAW. And an insignia—the serpent, staff, and crown he’d seen before.

HRMAW?

Crossing to the window, Han looked out. The lamplighters were kindling the lanterns that hung from the academy buildings. Which meant he’d missed dinner. He felt weak, starving, and completely depleted of power.

But that didn’t make any sense. He’d met with Crow after dinner. The lamps would have been lit a long time ago. Was the amulet so packed with evil power that it was making him sick?

Swearing, he gathered up his books and papers, cramming them into his carry bag, putting the ancient pages in on top. He skipped the longer route across the rooftops, and took a chance with the back staircase to the main floor of the library. The proficient at the main desk looked up, blinking, from his textbook. “The library’s closed, Alister. I thought everybody had already gone.”

“Sorry,” Han said. “I fell asleep.” He paused by the desk. “What day is it?”

The proficient grinned. “You need to quit working so much. It’s Sunday.”

Sunday. He’d met with Crow Saturday evening. So he’d lost an entire day. And gained a map of Gray Lady. And some charms.

And suddenly it came to him—what was going on. He’d been a fool for sure.

Han sped past the proficient and shouldered open the large double doors.

Crossing the Mystwerk quad, he loped up the steps of Hampton Hall two at a time, hoping Dancer was there. But the entire dormitory seemed deserted. Was everyone at dinner?

Stopping in front of his door, Han bent and retrieved the matchstick that had fallen from the latch. Someone had opened the door to his room since he’d last been there.

Han slid his hand inside his cloak and rested it on the hilt of the knife he still carried everywhere. His drained amulet would do him little good now. Gently easing the door open, Han scanned the room. Nothing out of place. No one there.