by Lisa McMann
“Come on!” Fifer yelled to Seth and anyone else who remained standing. She dove into the hammock and scrambled around to make room, staying low so she wouldn’t get struck.
But Seth and the others didn’t come. After an agonizing second, Fifer peeked out and saw that they were all frozen, and Seth had been hit by a freeze spell and shackles. Now everyone on Frieda’s side was trying to launch components high enough to arc and land in her hammock.
“Retreat!” Fifer called out to Shimmer. There was nothing else she could do. The birds took her out of the mansion, and Fifer pelted as many dissenters as she could on her way. As the falcons carried her through an upper window, she could see that the dissenters were storming the stairs. They picked up and dragged the frozen bodies of Fifer’s friends over to the single tube that was still functioning.
“Circle around and stay close to the mansion!” Fifer commanded the birds once they were outside. “I need to see what they’re doing.” Through the windows as she passed by, Fifer could see Frieda’s people stacking two or three frozen friends into the tube at a time and pushing a button. Fifer breathed a sigh of relief—at least they weren’t trying to hurt them. But then she looked closer to see which buttons they were pushing. They were sending her friends to the library and the lounge, which seemed very strange. As each couple or threesome disappeared, the dissenters loaded more frozen bodies inside.
Growing more distressed, Fifer circled around again, staying high up and peering through the second-floor windows of the entryway, trying to understand what was happening. Finally the last of her friends were being stacked and sent to the library. “What?” she muttered. Were there people down in those remote rooms to guard them or something? Was this just a way to contain them?
Frieda, who’d retreated to the hallway when the fighting got rough, reappeared and came thundering down the stairs. “Destroy the tube!” she shouted when the last bodies disappeared. She produced magical sledgehammers and handed them off. A few dissenters cast the spells, and the magical sledgehammers began pounding the control panel, sending bits and pieces flying. Soon the whole tube began rocking off its base.
Fifer gasped. “What are you doing?” she cried. “Now there’s no way for them to—” She clutched her head as she realized what Frieda had done. On purpose. “No!”
Frieda Stubbs had trapped all of Fifer’s friends and team members in the remote expansions of the magical mansion, just like she’d trapped Simber in the theater. Only this was much more serious. These were humans who, unlike Simber, needed food and water to survive.
With Florence and Sky far off in the jungle, Fifer was the only one left to show Frieda Stubbs that she wouldn’t get away with this. But as the grim realization of what had just happened came over her, Fifer began to panic.
One Small Victory
Fifer wasn’t sure what to do. If she retreated now with the birds, would Frieda Stubbs feel even more emboldened? It seemed like that would make this already horrible situation even worse.
And what about all of Fifer’s friends who’d been frozen and sent to magical rooms with no way to escape? How was she going to get them out of there? They would thaw naturally in a matter of minutes, so being temporarily frozen wasn’t the problem—being trapped forever in the library and lounge definitely was, though. “Think, Fifer,” she muttered as she flew around the perimeter of the mansion.
The people in the lounge might be able to survive for a while with the food and drink to be found there, so that was a bit of a relief for some of them, at least. But what about the ones in the library? They’d have plenty of books to read to pass the time, which normally was sufficient in Fifer’s mind. But there wasn’t any water or food in there. How long would it take to repair one of the tubes? And how long would it be before Fifer or anyone else could get to it so they could try? This was a serious problem.
Fifer and her birds circled the mansion again, staying just out of range of the dissenters’ spell-casting ability, as she struggled to figure out what to do. What would Alex do? Or Aaron? Or even Thisbe?
“Spirrr!” sang Shimmer, sounding urgent.
Fifer looked at the bird. “What is it?”
The falcon pointed its beak at one of the windows.
Fifer focused in that direction, not sure what she was looking for. And then she spied a tiny white spot on the sill. “Is that Kitten?”
“Spirrr!” said Shimmer again, and jabbed its wing in the same direction.
“Something else?” Fifer stared past Kitten through the window. There on the floor, forgotten in the melee, was the 3-D door drawing rolled up like a scroll. It looked relatively unharmed. “We have to get it,” murmured Fifer. Her heart began to race. She commanded the birds to circle again while she searched her spell components, trying to figure out her best options for this stealthy, dangerous move. If Fifer got nailed by a spell and captured like the others, Florence and Sky would have no idea where everyone had gone. But if Fifer could get the drawing, they could at least free Simber to help them. And they needed help now more than ever. She had to succeed.
Fifer looked closer at the white spot on the windowsill. “It is Kitten!” she whispered to Shimmer. “She must have snuck out of someone’s pocket when they were being sent to the remote rooms. We have to save her, too.”
It was settled—Fifer had to get the 3-D drawing. But it was going to be a precarious situation. They’d have to swoop in through the large side window, and Fifer would somehow grab Kitten without getting hit by flying components, then jump out of the hammock and grab the scroll. Unfortunately, from inside the hammock, there was no way Fifer would be able to lean out far enough to reach the floor—the sides were too tall. And she didn’t trust asking any birds to pick it up, because if the drawing ripped or got poked through with beak holes, the door wouldn’t work.
Fifer wasn’t sure how she was going to do that without getting struck from all directions—especially knowing she had to leave the safety of the hammock. If she could at least get the 3-D drawing inside the hammock before she got hit, Shimmer and the other birds could take it to Florence.
They swung around, and Fifer saw the scroll was still lying unattended. But half of Frieda’s dissenters were hanging out the windows and doors, staring at her and taking aim. How was she supposed to do this?
“We might have to go through the upper windows so their spells have less of a chance of hitting us,” Fifer told Shimmer. “If we choose that route, can you send some of the falcons down to get Kitten before the dissenters discover her? That will also cause a distraction and allow us to swoop down and grab the 3-D door.”
The head falcon let out a vocal agreement. Fifer pulled out the components she planned to use to clear a path. “Let’s aim straight for Kitten’s window. I’ll start firing as soon as we get close enough. If I manage to knock everyone out of the way, we’ll keep going. If more keep coming, we go to plan B. Got it?”
Shimmer bobbed its head and let out a command, and soon the entourage was soaring fast toward the window.
Fifer kept mostly hidden and protected behind the canvas hammock, and as soon as she got close enough, she began throwing handfuls of scatterclips at each person standing at the window. One by one they flew backward, banging into other dissenters and dragging them all the way to the opposite wall and pinning them there.
But it didn’t take long for the opponents to react. From all windows, they flung components at the approaching hammock, knocking a few birds down in the process. Fifer ducked and waited to see which plan Shimmer would choose. As she sat, she noticed a small rip in the hammock fabric that was large enough for Fifer to poke her finger through. Blindly she started sending freeze spells, knowing there was no wrong target and hoping she landed some of them.
“Spirrr!” cried Shimmer. The army of falcons shifted sharply as components pelted the outside of Fifer’s barrier. As she felt the birds rise, she pointed down, hoping she could knock out a few more dissenters. Moments later t
he birds continued forward through the upper window, and Fifer could see the elaborate mansion ceiling of the vast entryway not far above her. Gilded chains hung down with no chandeliers attached.
Fifer scrambled to her knees to peer over the edge of the hammock and send out a line of shackle spells, hitting several people from behind. “Did anyone get Kitten?” Fifer asked, but the birds were too preoccupied with navigating to respond. A few more of them were hit, and with each loss, the hammock dropped a little. With renewed fear for the birds as well as her own safety, Fifer shouted, “Hurry!”
Now, as the birds began to descend, the young mage pulled out her heart attack spells. She needed a serious spell that would also cause a distraction. She hated to use it on Artiméans because of how traumatic it was to experience, but she knew the people would be fine again in about fifteen minutes—as long as she didn’t use three or more of them in one throw. This time she aimed at the people nearest the scroll, shouting “Heart attack!” with each toss. Neatly she took several of them down, and they began shaking and shuddering. Those around them came running to tend to them.
“Now!” Fifer said in a harsh whisper as she fired off even more.
Shimmer gave the command. Fifer rose to her feet as the birds swooped lower. From all sides, the dissenters sent off a variety of components, but Fifer dodged and ducked, avoiding them. The birds weren’t so lucky, though—several more of them were hit by freeze spells. They fell to the mansion floor and dropped their ropes. Without warning, Fifer plunged down, hit hard, and rolled out.
With a frantic lunge, Fifer reached for the drawing and threw it into the hammock. Realizing she was too heavy for the few remaining birds, she commanded Shimmer to escape with the hammock. She put up a glass barrier behind her, which would stop some of the dissenters until they had a chance to release the spells. Then she released a component directly in front of her while dodging another round of fire. A green mossy carpet popped out before her. Fifer climbed onto it, commanding it to rise quickly, exit, and go to meet Shimmer in the jungle. The carpet shot forward and climbed up toward the upper windows while Fifer hung on to the edges for dear life.
Lying flat as the carpet rose to the ceiling, Fifer peered over the side. Components were still flying, some of them hitting the bottom of the carpet and falling back down, which thankfully didn’t affect Fifer. “Please hurry,” she urged it.
As they neared their chosen exit, Frieda Stubbs raced up the stairs to the balcony. “I told you all to capture the Stowes and bring them to me!” she hollered. “You messed up with Aaron, and now you’re messing up with Fifer, too!” Before Fifer’s carpet could get through the window, Frieda pulled three heart attack components from her pocket and launched them at the girl. The heart-shaped components sailed through the air. Midway they sprouted white, feathery wings to help them reach their target.
Fifer gasped. “No!” she cried. “What are you—are you serious? Help!” She pulled the corner of the magic carpet and curled it over her head to shield herself as the carpet lurched through the window and rose farther.
Two of the components found their mark. The third smashed into the window frame and fell to the floor, undetonated. Fifer, stricken with a double heart attack, felt an unbearable searing pain pierce through her chest and arms. She fell to one side and began to shake and shudder until she rolled right off the carpet and dropped swiftly toward the lawn, unable to do a thing about it.
The carpet swooped down to collect its rider. At the last second it reached her, catching her convulsing body just in time before she hit the ground. It followed through on its instructions and carried Fifer away from the mansion, racing after the few remaining birds toward the jungle.
Trapped
Samheed, Fox, Ms. Octavia, Clementi, and Aaron woke up from being frozen and found themselves lying haphazardly just outside the tube on the main floor of the library. Aaron sat up and rubbed an egg-size lump on his head. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten it. He tried to figure out what had happened and how he’d ended up in the library, of all places. The last thing he remembered was fighting next to Fifer on the stairs.
But where was she now? He looked around frantically at the other four, then beyond them at the aisles of books. “Fifer?” he called out, getting shakily to his feet. “Where is everybody else?” He began searching the vast room. “Fifer!”
No one answered, but Fox realized that his fighting mate was gone too. “Kitten LaRue is missing!” He began running in a circle and then stopped. “Kitten! LaRuuue!” he howled. There was no answer from her, either, which put Fox into a great depression. “We have to find her! Oh, I just know she’s dead.”
“She still has lives left,” said Clementi distractedly, while testing her aching limbs to see if she was in one piece.
But her words didn’t console Fox, and he began running around in a circle again, this time near the picture-books display, which was Kitten’s favorite section. “Kitten LaRooooooo!”
“The others must have escaped,” Clementi said to Ms. Octavia and Samheed. As Aaron returned to the group, Clementi got up and went through the shadows to the tube, then paused at the opening and glanced back at the others, who were getting up too. “Should I try it? What if they’re waiting to ambush us outside the main tubes in the mansion?”
Samheed walked over while pulling a few components from his vest. “We could just surface quickly to take a peek, and then immediately push the button to come back here,” he said.
“That’s a good idea,” said Ms. Octavia. She searched the floor for her glasses.
“I’ll go with you, Clementi,” said Samheed. “Is that all right with”—he looked over the small group he was with, and his eyes flickered when they landed on Aaron—“everyone?”
Aaron gingerly touched the lump on his head again and grimaced. “Why don’t you just go alone? If you don’t come back, we’ll have our answer.”
Samheed shot him a dirty look. “Rude. But funny,” he admitted.
“I don’t think we have a choice,” said Ms. Octavia. “We need to figure out what the status is and help if our friends are still fighting out there.”
“Yes, that’s what I was thinking—especially if they’re still fighting,” said Clementi. “They’ll need us.”
Clementi’s urgency brought Aaron to the tube as well, and he felt sheepish for being snide to Samheed when things were in such chaos. “I’ll go with you too, Clementi.”
“We’re all set, thanks,” said Samheed, who stepped into the tube with the young mage.
“You guys need to knock it off,” Clementi said. “You’re both being a distraction. This is serious.” She glanced at Samheed. “Ready?”
“Yep,” said Samheed.
Clementi pressed the button to the mansion. Everyone expected them to disappear, but nothing happened. She pressed it again. And again.
“It’s not working,” she said, peering at the control panel. “Does anybody have a magical highlighter?”
“Is there another button?” asked Samheed. “I haven’t used this library since I was trying to foil Aaron, way back when we were thirteen—I prefer the one in the Museum of Large. Where can this tube take us? Individual rooms? Or just the remote spots?”
Ms. Octavia handed Clementi a highlighter.
“There’s definitely no direct line to individual rooms from the remote places,” said Clementi. She lit the component. “I’ve only ever gone to the mansion entryway from here. There’s no other option.” She bent to study the control panel and noticed gray words flashing on the black screen. “ ‘System failure in primary tubes,’ ” she read. “ ‘All social tubes are down. Shelter in place and wait for head mage.’ ” She reread it to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”
Fox stopped running and joined them. “What?” he said with a whine. “We’re doomed?”
“Let me see, please,” said Ms. Octavia, pulling Samheed out of the tube. Clementi stepp
ed aside too and handed the octogator her highlighter. The instructor read the screen, then began pushing the button several times in a row. A light turned on, and the panel brightness increased, but nobody went anywhere.
Aaron came over and peered through the glass from the outside. “This is strange,” he said lightly, but his face was alarmed. “Is there another tube somewhere in this library? On a different floor, perhaps?”
“No,” said Clementi and Ms. Octavia together. “There are more floors,” Clementi clarified, “but this is the only way out.”
Aaron blew out a breath as he started to realize the vastness of their predicament. “We’re trapped down here unless someone knows how to fix the main tubes, which we can’t get to. And we’re supposed to count on the head mage. Great. Does anyone here know how to fix the system? I wonder if we can do something from this tube to get things working. I… I fixed the one on the Island of Shipwrecks, but this is a different situation.”
Samheed looked dazed. “Lani might be able to finagle something, or at least find the right book on it. Or Claire. But…”
“But what?” asked Ms. Octavia.
“What if they don’t know we’re in here? What if they don’t think to test our tube?”
Clementi’s eyes widened. “So they might not know to reset this one? Is that how the tubes work? Each line has to be tested?”
“I don’t know,” said Samheed apologetically. “I’m just… worried. I don’t like to be trapped. It brings back bad memories.” He dropped down into a nearby chair and put his head in his hands.
Aaron studied the panel, which was completely intact. There were no necessary parts to connect like in the one on the scientists’ island, which is the kind of fixing Aaron was good at. This tube control panel wasn’t broken—it was the main tubes that were causing the problem. Was there anything Aaron could do from here? It didn’t seem like it.
