“Indeed it is,” the octogator said, drawing a dry tentacle across her snout to catch the tears. “It feels a bit like my soul has been torn away. Like perhaps I shouldn’t exist without him.”

Alex remained quiet. Nothing he could say was important enough to stand next to her words, for she, like all creatures and statues, had something from Mr. Today that he did not, and that was life itself. Instead of trying to pretend that he knew how she felt, he peered out over the waves and waited.

After a time, Ms. Octavia cleared her throat and inhaled a large, reverberating sniff. She turned to Alex. “Now then,” she said, not quite in her regular, stern voice, but almost. “How can I help you, my dear boy?”

Alex regarded her with a solemn look, wondering if she were up to the task but knowing it would take him days, even weeks, and they couldn’t afford that kind of time. He had no choice but to ask. “Ms. Octavia, for reasons I don’t have time to explain right now, there are upward of fifty Unwanteds trapped in Mr. Today’s secret hallway, and they can’t get out. How quickly can you make a 3-D door?”

Approaching

Normal

As it turned out, Ms. Octavia had a stash of 3-D doors in her classroom that she employed for var

ious purposes throughout the years. She grabbed the theater door drawing, which she used fairly often to get Simber and Florence in and out of the theater for

assemblies. She and Alex brought it upstairs to the secret hallway, where people were beginning to get anxious. Alex cleared a space. Ms. Octavia unrolled the large drawing and pasted it to the wall between the museum and the kitchenette.

The door wavered and then pushed out from the wall: wooden slats, hinges, and all.

“Now then,” Ms. Octavia said as she reached for the protruding handle and pulled open the enormous, creaking door that led to Mr. Appleblossom’s sanctuary, “head through the theater to the tubes and be on your way.”

The Artiméans cheered and pressed forward through the door. In no time, the hallway was clear once again, except for Simber, Ms. Octavia, and Alex.

Ms. Octavia swished over to peek into Mr. Today’s office and the kitchenette. “Is that everyone?”

“Seems to be.” Alex frowned. “Wait—not quite. I almost forgot! I’ll be right back.” He rushed over to the Museum of Large, where the door was still open a crack. He went in and looked around, spying Meghan sitting near the enormous restored pirate ship, surrounded by stacks of books. Alex walked over to her and looked at them. The book closest to him looked quite new, though some of its pages were wavy, as if they’d gotten wet. It was the strangest title he’d seen yet: Yodeling Groceries: 100 Awesome Slang Words for Vomit.

“Any luck?” Alex leaned against the bow of the ship. It whispered unintelligibly as it had done in the past.

Meghan looked up and smiled sadly. Then shook her head.

“Well,” Alex said with a grin, “the good news is that we’ve found another way out. Come on.”

Meghan’s eyes lit up.

Alex pulled her to her feet. Meghan grabbed the vomit book, grinned, and showed Alex a page, making him laugh out loud for the first time in a long time. “What are groceries, anyway?” he asked.

Meghan shrugged. Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. She tucked the book inside her vest to read later.

As they walked out of the museum, Alex grew serious again. “So, um, do you want us to try to get that thing off your neck? I mean, if the medical people think it’s safe to do?”

Meghan looked at him. She nodded and her mouth opened to say a silent yes. Her face was desperate.

“Even if there’s a chance your voice never comes back?”

Meghan hesitated, closing her eyes for a second and taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she nodded again.

“You go it,” Alex said. “I promise we’ll do everything we can to hear you sing again.”

Meghan teared up and grabbed Alex’s arm. Together they left the museum, Alex sealing it magically once again. They moved down the hallway.

“I’ll walk with Meg through the door,” Alex said to his instructor, who waited patiently to take the door down and store it away safely once again.

Ms. Octavia, who hadn’t seen Meghan since before Artimé disappeared, startled at the sight of the girl’s necklace of thorns. “Oh dear,” she said, reaching out to give Meghan a hug, while looking vastly puzzled all the same. “I can’t begin to imagine the depths of heartache I missed.”

Alex gave her and Simber a grim smile. I can’t begin to tell you, he thought, but he didn’t say it. Instead he said, “Now that everything seems to have settled, I’d like to meet with you two and Florence as soon as possible.” He looked down at his clothes, still partially covered by Mr. Today’s oversized robe. “But I have a feeling I should probably clean up first,” he said, realizing he must smell pretty bad by now. He looked from Ms. Octavia to Simber. “Mr. Today’s office in an hour, then?”

The cat regarded the dirty, disheveled new leader of Artimé, who had grown considerably more confident and decisive in the time Simber had been at the bottom of the ocean. He tipped his head in solemn agreement. “An hourrr,” he agreed. “But it’s yourrr office now.”

At those words, Alex felt his lungs turn to ice. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to comprehend it. When he looked up once more, he gave Simber and Ms. Octavia a grim nod. He turned to Meghan, who gave him a reassuring smile as they stepped through the door to the theater.