by Lisa McMann
A question came from the front of the crowd. “But—why not just seal us off completely from them rather than making us more vulnerable?”
Mr. Today smiled grimly, and then he turned and gazed over the beautiful blue-green sea. “They can reach us from the sea if they wish to—if Justine thinks of it. And she will, if it comes to that. Do you really want walls all the way around us, now that they know? Are we so afraid?” he asked, turning back to face them. “Just like Quill?” He waited to see if anyone would speak, and when no one did, he continued.
“I’d rather die fighting to keep us free to do as we wish, fighting to be free to come and go as we please, fighting so we no longer need to hide. Fighting the fear that all of you were programmed since birth to have. Fighting against Quill’s bigotry, which says brains and brawn are better, or more important, than creativity. And now, with luck, we may have a chance. A chance to prove ourselves.”
The crowd remained hushed.
“You will all be faced with two options: Fight or provide. For those of you who need or desire protection, or have medical skills, you will find protection and provisions in the mansion. Parents and families—I trust you will make your own decisions on whether to protect your children or fight. Both are noble deeds, and you must decide for yourselves what is best. Those who remain under protection will be able to assist with our soldiers through various ways: aiding the wounded, providing nourishment for those who fight, and caring for our youngest ones who need assistance.
“Most of the rest of you will likely choose to fight together to save Artimé.” Mr. Today’s eyes traveled to the very back of the crowd and alighted on Will Blair, who squirmed uncomfortably, and then the mage looked at Samheed, who looked at the ground. “I need not remind any of you that if you choose to enter Quill without the benefit of an organized team, you are taking your life into your own hands.”
Mr. Today looked at Claire and nodded to her. “Ms. Morning is your commander in chief. You have done your drills. Keep your wits about you—you are far cleverer than they! Use your imaginations to your advantage. And please, though you owe me nothing, I ask a favor.” He leaned forward in earnest. “Do not strike first. If there is to be a battle, let it be they who start it. As I often say, we do not know what will happen until it happens. Perhaps, by some miracle, they will choose—” Mr. Today stopped abruptly as Jim the winged tortoise flew in from the direction of the jungle and landed at his feet. The man bent down, and Jim whispered something in his ear, while the crowd inched forward, curious. It took a very long time for him to pass along the information, but no one expected other wise where Jim was concerned. Will Blair took the tortoise distraction as an opportunity to make himself invisible and slip away.
After a long moment Mr. Today stood upright. “Thank you, Jim, that’s perfect.” He spoke again to the crowd on the lawn. “Our friends of the jungle have agreed to stand with us and fight. They, along with the statues, will help protect the mansion at night so that we might rest in safety, should the battle tarry on.” He took a deep breath and smiled encouragingly at his beloved Unwanteds. “Any questions?”
Lani raised her hand. “How will we know when they are coming … and then what do we do?”
Mr. Today smiled warmly at the girl. “We have spies. Lookouts. They’ll give us plenty of warning. You’ll know almost immediately via your blackboards.” The old man glanced at Alex and teased, “Everyone, please keep your blackboards on full volume.”
Alex smiled weakly. He had nothing to worry about, since Clive no longer had a shush button.
“When you receive your orders, follow them. It’s that simple. Have your component vests loaded and your weapons ready.”
As the crowd went back into the mansion to prepare, Mr. Today called out to Samheed. “A word, please,” he said.
Samheed grabbed Alex’s arm. “Did you tell him about me?” His eyes were wild.
“Yes,” Alex answered truthfully. “But I said that you probably didn’t know what Will was really up to.”
“I didn’t know,” Samheed said. “You have to believe me. I thought we were just going to scare him. I didn’t know.”
Alex pressed his lips together. “You’d better go.”
Samheed bit down on his bottom lip, his brow furled, and stared at Alex with an intensity Alex had never seen before. “Believe me,” Samheed whispered. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” Then he released his grip and jogged slowly over to the mage. “Yes, sir?”
“There are a few things we need to talk about, and some things for you to think about,” Mr. Today said. He pulled him to a quiet spot on the lawn, and the two sat down together, Samheed staring at the grass nearly the entire time.
When they had finished their conversation, Samheed walked slowly to the mansion, a stricken sort of look on his face, and went straight to his room.
And Mr. Today scoured the mansion and grounds in search of Will Blair, alerting all of his contacts to watch out for the young man. But Will was nowhere to be found.
Aaron
Well, well, well, Aaron Stowe.” As they drove back to the palace, the High Priest Justine turned to eye the young man. “I understand you’ve met Marcus. How … interesting.”
“High Priest Justine, I can explain—”
“Then do it!” She didn’t raise her voice, yet the words boomed inside Aaron’s head.
Aaron sat on his hands so the high priest would not see them trembling. His voice cracked. “I—I—Last night, they came into my room. I mean, he did. Alex. My brother. I mean, the Unwanted. I thought it was a dream!”
“And?”
“And, they tried to convince me—”
“They?”
“Alex and that man with the hair—they … they dragged me through the wall into the Death Farmer’s office and told me they were trying to protect me.” Aaron took a deep breath. “I escaped, thank Quill.” He nodded emphatically, as if to prove it to himself that he had done the right thing.
The High Priest Justine’s lips were pinched so tightly that they carried a faint tinge of blue. Her voice was wickedly calm. “And you chose to lie to me, and bring me there under the guise of refining oil. So that we could declare quite openly to the entire pathetic place that we were dumbfounded to discover their existence.” Her glare grew even sharper, and her voice lost some of its calm. “And I thought you were intelligent, Aaron Stowe. I really thought you were bright. But all you’ve done is succeed in making us look like idiots! We’re fools!” She spat out the last word. Aaron shrank back in his seat.
“I—I thought it was a dream,” he whispered. “I’ve had some strange dreams lately—it was all too impossible. How could I have believed I could walk through a wall, and that my brother Alex was alive? Surely, Madam High Priest, surely you can understand.…”
“How dare you defy me! Dreams? Be silent!”
Governor Strang, somewhat recovered from the shock of the world, remained still as he drove the Quillitary vehicle up the winding road to the palace.
“Strang,” the High Priest said, her voice sickly calm again, “gather all the governors—blast it, why did Haluki have to run off like that? I need him immediately, and the rest of you. General Blair, too. Can’t you make this thing go any faster?”
The boxy, rusted vehicle chugged and strained against the incline. “The pedal is to the floor. Nearly through it, Your Highness,” Strang said.
At the mention of General Blair, Aaron bit his lip and cleared his throat softly. “Madam High Priest, my Unwanted brother told me that the general’s own Unwanted son was planning to kill me and take my place, using something called ‘magic.’” He dared not say any more.
The High Priest did not acknowledge Aaron, and he sank back into the seat again.
Soon they had reached the palace. “Follow me,” the High Priest Justine barked. Aaron hastened to keep up.
“Dreams,” she muttered. “Grounds for dismissal and death.”
Aaron’s eyes ope
ned wide with fear. He felt like he was going to throw up.
“Guards!” The High Priest Justine’s shoes snapped and clicked on the stone floor of the palace. “Do not let this boy out of your sight,” she said, sneering. “If he tries to run, kill him.” She turned abruptly into her office and slammed the door in Aaron’s face.
Aaron stood there for a moment, his shoulders sagging with remorse, and then turned and sat down on the floor, covering his face in his hands.
What Happens
After midnight Will Blair, who had been hiding in the jungle, snuck back to the campus before his invisibility spell wore off and tubed his way secretly back to his room. He sent a message to Samheed and waited impatiently for his friend to answer his blackboard, but to no avail. Finally he gave up and decided to go it alone. Abandoning his 3-D door failure, and no longer needing it, he sat in his room, surrounded by sketches of Alex Stowe, as if in a creepy sort of shrine. He concentrated for a few minutes, breathed deeply, and crossed his fingers. With all his might he focused on theatrical thoughts of becoming his character, until his body and features transformed into the body of the person he’d been studying for nearly a year. Then he hoped against hope that he wouldn’t bump into Alex on the way out of Artimé, because that would indeed ruin everything.
He strolled down the steps in the same manner as Alex would stroll, and when he passed Florence and Simber, he nodded like Alex would nod. Simber growled, “Alex,” and nodded in return. Will made his way to the gaping space in the wall and nodded to the girrinos there. Tina asked in a frightened voice, “Where are you going?” Will didn’t want to tell the nosy girrinos anything, so he simply waved and set out on his quest: to reach Wanted University before he was discovered.
When Mr. Today got word that Alex (or someone looking suspiciously like him) had left Artimé, he whirled around to check the blackboards and then flew to the tube across from his office, shimmered, and disappeared.
Hours later he returned, exhausted. And empty-handed.
By morning there were two announcements written on the blackboards: First, the Quillitary, which had been preparing for this moment for so long, was already on the march. And second, Alex Stowe had gone into Quill during the night and never returned.
Alex sputtered as he read the second. “What? Clive, is this your idea of a joke?”
The board rippled in shiny black waves as Clive’s face pressed through. He smiled grimly. “It’s tempting, but I didn’t do it. I’ve already alerted Marcus that you are here. He mumbled something about Tina making the report down by the gate, and Will Blair using a disguise spell.”
Alex clapped his hands to his forehead. “Oh, no—Clive, you’ve got to send out a notice that it’s not true.” His stomach clenched, wondering if Will had already killed Aaron, but there was no time to think about it now.
“On the way.”
It popped up
The previous message regarding Alex Stowe was inaccurate. Please disregard.
Alex sighed in relief. “Thanks, Clive. You’re not half bad, you know that?”
Clive smirked. “Well, I’d hate to have you go off to battle and get killed without me at least doing one decent thing for you. You know. Karma.”
“Wow. How big of you.”
“Read your instructions. You don’t have much time.” Clive melted into the blackboard. “Don’t die,” he called out as his face disappeared and the announcements appeared on the screen again.
“I’ll try not to,” Alex whispered. He pressed the first announcement and read:
Alex Stowe,
The Quillitary is on the march. Your breakfast has been tubed up to you. Please report to your squad on the lawn immediately. Your commander is Simber. He will have your orders.
Thank you for your dedication and service to Artimé. You are a valuable part of our community.
Marcus Today
Alex picked up the tray of food from the tube and ate quickly, and then he washed and dressed. He grabbed his component vest, checked the bulging pockets for all his magical items, and slipped his arms through it. Ten minutes later he joined the throngs of Artiméans, easily found Simber, and stood near him. He felt a lot less scared knowing that Simber was there to lead his group.
Meghan joined him. “I’m so glad you’re here—I thought you did something stupid,” she whispered. She eyed the cheetah nervously. “And I’m really glad he’s on our side.”
Simber growled. “I can hearrr you, Rrrangerrr.”
They were soon joined by three others: a young man named Peter, an older woman named Pauline, and a rather large white squirrelicorn named Rufus.
Across the lawn he saw Samheed and Lani under the leadership of Arija the girrino. He waved, and watched Lani’s anxious face relax. She ran over to him, pressed a note in his hand, and said, “What was up with that report about you?” Alex just shrugged and shook his head. Lani glanced back at Arija and ran back to her post.
Alex caught Samheed’s eye. Samheed had a strained look on his face. He nodded slightly to Alex, and then he dropped his gaze.
“I wonder if he knows about Will,” Alex whispered under his breath. “And if he’s really on our side.”
“He knows now,” growled Simber. “As for the otherrr, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
Alex startled. “I’ve got to start remembering that you can see and hear so well,” he said.
The great cheetah chuckled under his breath. “I prrreferrr knowing what you’rrre up to, Stowe.”
At that moment Mr. Today and Claire Morning appeared on the rooftop of the mansion. Claire clapped her hands for order, and all in front turned to hush those behind and direct their attention to the leaders. “Commanders, please give your orders and take your stations. The Quillitary is in sight.”
Alex and Meghan gulped simultaneously and exchanged a nervous glance. Alex quickly peeked at the note from Lani. It read, Die a thousand deaths. He looked up, alarmed, and searched for Lani, but she was nowhere to be found. What a horrible thing to say, he thought, shoving the note in his pocket. I thought she was over being immature.
He straightened his vest, going over the various components one more time, even though he knew their locations by heart. Peter and Pauline whispered together. Rufus rose up on his haunches as Simber faced them.
“Ourrr squad was specially designed to complement one anotherrr,” he began. “Rrrufus is agile. He can both climb and fly. His eyesight is trrremendous, as is his bite and skewerrr.” Simber indicated the squirrelicorn’s foot-long horn, which grew from between his little squirrel ears. “Pauline was a theaterrr focus, Peterrr’s a wrrriting instrrructorrr, Meghan is a musician, and Alex is a painterrr.” He paused, and said wryly, “And in case you didn’t notice, I’m an enorrrmous stone cheetah with wings. I come with a majorrr drrrawback—I am not easy to hide. Therrreforrre ourrr squad will be an open, moving tarrrget. But ourrr combined skills should overrrcome most obstacles.
“Please follow my instrrructions at all times, especially when we face combat. Trrrust my orrrders. Frrrom my vantage point I can see much farrrtherrr than you. And because of my experrrience as a prrredator you should trrrust my instincts. Any questions?” He looked at the five who faced him. None had questions.
“All rrright. We’rrre the frrront line stationed at the rrroad. In Quill.” Simber turned and walked toward the opening in the wall.
The front line! A chill of fear moved through Alex as they approached the place where the gate once stood. It had been one thing to go from Mr. Today’s office into Aaron’s dormitory room, but it was quite another to face this ominous, fateful entrance again after nearly a year, and then to stand outside it and take the brunt of the attack—it was completely nerve-wracking.
Simber held his head high as he walked nobly, like a prince, through the wide opening. Mr. Today, who now stood at the entrance, murmured words of protection on each of their component vests as they passed through into the bleakness of Quill. “The wo
rds of protection will last the entire day. Please don’t take your vests off—they will help keep you safe.” The man put his hand on Alex’s arm and whispered, “Do you remember the command I used for the glass wall?”
Alex, whose heart was pounding by now, nodded.
“You are capable of casting that, Alex. You are capable of a lot of things. Just be aware that it will shatter if it’s struck hard enough, so it’s not permanent. Above all, have confidence in yourself, and you will succeed. Control your emotions, and you will hit every time.”
“Yes, sir,” Alex whispered, feeling confidence from the pep talk. He nodded and followed Simber onto the dusty road to stand and wait for the Quillitary vehicles. There was nothing in this desolate part of Quill that could be used for cover except for a few scattered posts that held up the barbed-wire ceiling. Alex breathed in the stifling air of Quill, his eyes darting around, feeling very exposed.
Other squads lined up behind and alongside Simber’s, and soon there were over a hundred defenders in place inside Quill, ready to face the oncoming Quillitary. Alex could hear the other squads behind him talking through their plans. The majority of the defenders remained in Artimé, spread out to protect the mansion, hidden behind the lush foliage, and grouped under cover along the edge of the jungle. It would be easier to fight in Artimé, where the Quillitary would be in unfamiliar territory and so shocked at the sight that they would have a disadvantage.
