they had Artimé back. What if the restore spell didn’t work next time?
Alex could take the trapped people through the tube to Haluki’s house one at a time and then walk back to Artimé from there. But that would be dangerous, most certainlyarousing suspicion and attracting unwanted attention in Quill.
There was always a chance that Meghan would find a spell. But Alex wasn’t feeling it—he was doubtful a spell existed, as access to the secret hallway seemed as random as the color patterns of Mr. Today’s robes.
Alex could allow them to try to break through the wall, but their strongest Artiméans, Simber and Florence, couldn’t help with that—they’d go right through it without disturbing so much as a piece of dust. This was an option, but not a nice one. He couldn’t really imagine what that would mean for the wall, or for the secret hallway’s secrets in the future.
He closed his eyes and wished for the millionth time that Lani and Samheed were there to help him. Alex was so anxious to find them now that he had better means to do so, but he had to get everything under control here first before he could do anything else. He thought about Sky and smiled a little, knowing she’d be reminding him to breathe right now. He took a deep breath and let it out, listening to the soothing voices of the men and women who were caring for Gunnar Haluki and Ms. Morning. He wondered if there was any other way to getthe trapped Artiméans out of there. If only he’d had more time with Mr. Today. His face burned when he thought of the years of learning he should have had. But he’d been robbed of that, and Aaron was the thief.
Alex opened his eyes when a young man he didn’t know touched his arm and handed him a cup of cider.
“Thank you,” Alex said. He drank it down. Nothing had tasted better in all his life.
“We’re all grateful, Alex,” the man said in a low voice. “Things were rough, but Mr. Today clearly made the right choice with you. I’m sorry some folks lost hope.” He turned and went on with his duties, leaving Alex to return to his problem solving.
After a while, Alex slipped through the mansion, checking on things, making sure nothing else was falling apart, and remarkably everything was under control. Florence patrolled the dining hall, where many of the Artiméans sat and ate. It was good to hear their happy voices again. He caught Florence’s eye and they exchanged the steady, solemn gaze of comrades. It would take time for the creatures and statues to come to terms with the news. Alex nodded and lifted his hand to her. They would talk later.
He walked around to the other side of the mansion to the classrooms, peeking into Ms. Morning’s flawlessly clean music studio, where he’d seen Meghan so many times, singing. . . . A lump grew in his throat, and he vowed to do everything he could to get Meghan’s beautiful voice back.
And then he stopped in the most familiar classroom of all, the one where he spent so much time working on his art. Chalks, paints, pencils, brushes, and all the wonderful spells that went with them. It was too bad he couldn’t draw a way out of the secret hallway, he thought.
And then he froze. His eyes opened wide and he groaned as he slapped his forehead. “That’s it!” he cried. He whirled around and ran through the mansion, looking in every room, in every hall, in every corner. And then he sped outside and turned this way and that, until finally he spied his beloved instructor at the shore. He sprinted to her.
“Ms. Octavia,” he said, breathless as he reached her, and then he stopped short. Her glasses were askew, eyes red. She’d been crying into the water as gentle waves licked her tentacles, and Alex remembered how Mr. Today had created her—she came from the sea, he’d said. Alex’s heart surged, knowingwhat loss she was feeling. “It’s very hard, isn’t it?” he said.
“Indeed it is,” the octogator said, drawing a dry tentacle
Alex could take the trapped people through the tube to Haluki’s house one at a time and then walk back to Artimé from there. But that would be dangerous, most certainlyarousing suspicion and attracting unwanted attention in Quill.
There was always a chance that Meghan would find a spell. But Alex wasn’t feeling it—he was doubtful a spell existed, as access to the secret hallway seemed as random as the color patterns of Mr. Today’s robes.
Alex could allow them to try to break through the wall, but their strongest Artiméans, Simber and Florence, couldn’t help with that—they’d go right through it without disturbing so much as a piece of dust. This was an option, but not a nice one. He couldn’t really imagine what that would mean for the wall, or for the secret hallway’s secrets in the future.
He closed his eyes and wished for the millionth time that Lani and Samheed were there to help him. Alex was so anxious to find them now that he had better means to do so, but he had to get everything under control here first before he could do anything else. He thought about Sky and smiled a little, knowing she’d be reminding him to breathe right now. He took a deep breath and let it out, listening to the soothing voices of the men and women who were caring for Gunnar Haluki and Ms. Morning. He wondered if there was any other way to getthe trapped Artiméans out of there. If only he’d had more time with Mr. Today. His face burned when he thought of the years of learning he should have had. But he’d been robbed of that, and Aaron was the thief.
Alex opened his eyes when a young man he didn’t know touched his arm and handed him a cup of cider.
“Thank you,” Alex said. He drank it down. Nothing had tasted better in all his life.
“We’re all grateful, Alex,” the man said in a low voice. “Things were rough, but Mr. Today clearly made the right choice with you. I’m sorry some folks lost hope.” He turned and went on with his duties, leaving Alex to return to his problem solving.
After a while, Alex slipped through the mansion, checking on things, making sure nothing else was falling apart, and remarkably everything was under control. Florence patrolled the dining hall, where many of the Artiméans sat and ate. It was good to hear their happy voices again. He caught Florence’s eye and they exchanged the steady, solemn gaze of comrades. It would take time for the creatures and statues to come to terms with the news. Alex nodded and lifted his hand to her. They would talk later.
He walked around to the other side of the mansion to the classrooms, peeking into Ms. Morning’s flawlessly clean music studio, where he’d seen Meghan so many times, singing. . . . A lump grew in his throat, and he vowed to do everything he could to get Meghan’s beautiful voice back.
And then he stopped in the most familiar classroom of all, the one where he spent so much time working on his art. Chalks, paints, pencils, brushes, and all the wonderful spells that went with them. It was too bad he couldn’t draw a way out of the secret hallway, he thought.
And then he froze. His eyes opened wide and he groaned as he slapped his forehead. “That’s it!” he cried. He whirled around and ran through the mansion, looking in every room, in every hall, in every corner. And then he sped outside and turned this way and that, until finally he spied his beloved instructor at the shore. He sprinted to her.
“Ms. Octavia,” he said, breathless as he reached her, and then he stopped short. Her glasses were askew, eyes red. She’d been crying into the water as gentle waves licked her tentacles, and Alex remembered how Mr. Today had created her—she came from the sea, he’d said. Alex’s heart surged, knowingwhat loss she was feeling. “It’s very hard, isn’t it?” he said.
“Indeed it is,” the octogator said, drawing a dry tentacle
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