“No,” Aaron said through gritted teeth.

“Good.” She stopped picking. “Now when did you say the Quillitary attack will be?”

Aaron worked his jaw. “Three days,” he said.

“Very good. I look forward to the festivities and the rewards. I’ll tell General Blair you said hello next time I see him.” She turned and sauntered to the door. And then she turned back and added, “You know, everyone in the palace can hear everything you say when you and Liam are shouting together up there in that echo chamber.”

Aaron’s eyes widened. What did she mean?

Gondoleery laughed again as she walked away, talking loudly to herself. “General Blair, still alive. Amazing. What a cunning little mastermind. I didn’t expect it of him!”

As Aaron’s breath grew hot in his nostrils and he began to seethe, he looked at the puddle on the floor, a small hunk of ice remaining. It reminded him of the day he’d gone to Gunnar Haluki’s house and found water dripping from all surfaces, and a single puck of ice on the table—the only other time he’d seen or felt ice in his life.

And that’s when Aaron Stowe really got scared.

A Mansion and a Jungle

Aaron had two options if he wanted to protect himself from General Blair, and now from Gondoleery, who had quickly vaulted to being the number one person on his list of people to fear. The first option: the bag of spells. And the second? Another visit to the jungle. It probably wouldn’t do any good, but he could try.

Aaron spent the rest of the evening sorting through the spell components and reading the instructions for their use. A small, hard, green component would turn a person into a frog if he yelled “Hey-o froggy face!” while casting. A wispy piece of grass would give the receiver terrible allergies and render them incapacitated if Aaron yelled “Aaah-CHOO!” A squiggly forked stick would poke somebody in both eyes when accompanied by a rousing chant of “Neener neener neener!”

Aaron pored over the incantations earnestly, memorizing them and remembering the components that went along with each. This particular batch seemed ridiculously silly, and he knew he’d be rather embarrassed to yell out some of the strange things, yet he pressed on. He had no choice. It only reinforced in his mind—not that he doubted, of course—that Unwanteds were silly and stupid, and he was most definitely not one of them.

» » « «

The next morning, Aaron loaded up his pockets, wishing for one of those handy vests that his brother wore to carry all of the components in, and slipped out of the palace. He strode quickly to Haluki’s house, made his way inside to the office, and took the tube to the mansion.

Normally he spent only a split second there before hitting all the buttons, which would take him to the jungle. But this time he hesitated. It was quiet in the little kitchenette. He poked his head out of the tube and stole a glance beyond the room to the hallway and into the currently unlit office on the other side.

He listened carefully but heard nothing stirring, so he stepped out of the tube and snuck to the door frame. He peered out and to the left, down the intricately beautiful expanse of hallway. It was empty except for a small, ugly statue that looked strangely familiar, but at present Aaron couldn’t remember where he’d seen it before. A moment later he was tiptoeing across the hallway and into the office.

He’d been in there before. And like that first time when he’d just discovered his brother was alive, the room made him long for something. The feeling was much stronger now, perhaps because he was getting used to seeing the unusual, colorful world.

On that day, Mr. Today had been sitting at the desk with Alex.

They had been so surprised to see him coming through their strange paper doorway that worked like a real door. They’d been happy to see him. And they’d invited him to stay.

He wondered how things would be different now if he’d said yes. Would Mr. Today still be alive?

Aaron pressed his lips together and dropped his gaze. He didn’t like the gnawing feeling that dug into him.

After a minute he slipped back to the kitchenette and into the tube. He pressed all the buttons, and the warm comfort of Artimé was replaced by the cool, minty scent of the jungle. Aaron took it in and looked around.

The rock was there, with the panther curled up in one of its crevasses, sleeping.

Aaron remained still in the tube for a moment, looking out at the softly lit refuge. He’d liked it here before the horrible incident with Eva and the panther. It had an entirely different feel from home and from Artimé. It was the most welcoming place of all, he thought. Populated by misfits and failures of all shapes and sizes. Talk about unwanted.

He cringed. Aaron didn’t like to admit to himself just why he felt so comfortable here. But it was pretty obvious. Despite his one success, Aaron was a misfit and a failure too.

He stepped out of the tube, and his soft tread upon the jungle floor sent the panther jumping to her feet. She took one look at Aaron, bounded toward him, and screamed in his face, just like old times. She brushed her body against his legs, nearly throwing him off balance, and nudged his hand with her head, prompting him to pet her.

Aaron’s mouth twisted into a half smile and he did what she wanted, checking her all over to make sure she was intact.

“Hey, you, your tail’s gone again,” he scolded. “What do you do to that poor thing, bounce on it? Bite it off?”

The rock opened his craggy yellow eyes. Its cave mouth spread into a smile. “I was hoping we’d see you soon,” the rock growled. “You seem to know just when to come.”