ver the next half hour, dreams flashed through my head. They were jumbled and faster than usual, possibly because of the StalkWalker poison coursing through my veins.

An enormous goose stared down at me. A bunch of pumpkins flew through a mist-covered forest. Chance Darling and Daniel swordfought in a combat arena, which must’ve been at their school. Lastly, a huge dragon with black scales and red eyes snarled, emanating pure, untempered hatred.

I woke with the ferocity of the creature’s expression burned into my brain. Right as I stirred, the subway’s intercom came on.

“Attention passengers: we are now arriving in the Emerald City. Please make sure you take all belongings and small children with you and remember: the Wizard is good; the Wizard protects us; all hail the Wizard.”

“A bit overzealous with his message, isn’t he?” I yawned as I stretched to life.

“At least he’s consistent,” Daniel said, nodding to the fleet of propaganda posters lining the walls of the station.

The sliding doors opened and our group merged with the other commuters migrating to the south end of the platform. The first two passengers who arrived at the back wall worked together to twist a series of green levers. On the final pull, the wall shook and moved to the side, revealing another bright yellow staircase. Light and sound from the city above flooded in.

I was dismayed to see a robotic sphere scanning passengers at the top of the stairs, much like the one on the outer wall of the city. Just before the robot turned in our direction, I whirled around Daniel and stood perfectly still behind him. The robot’s red light scanned over him, but I was able to elude its eye. I walked carefully in step with Daniel so the machine wouldn’t see me, then spun around his other side as it went on to scan SJ.

Temporary adrenaline made up for my wooziness and I hustled up the rest of the stairs as fast as I could. I was in no mood to fill out more paperwork, and I didn’t know if the StalkWalker poison inside of me would be considered dark magic and set off an alert.

On the streets we hailed a cab-carriage and before long we arrived back at the Emerald Tower. Unfortunately, the great doors were now closed.

“Yo, you with the hat!” Blue called to the fedora-donning gatekeeper peeking out from his watchtower. “Open up. We need a follow-up appointment with the Wizard!”

The gatekeeper darted inside the watchtower. There was silence for a few seconds, then some miscellaneous clanging sounds before he stuck his head out again and looked down at us.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he responded. “General visiting hours are over for the day.”

“But this is an emergency,” Jason called. “Can you tell the Wizard the protagonists he talked to earlier about Paige Tomkins need to see him?”

“His Great and Powerful-ness already knows you are here,” the gatekeeper responded. “He does not wish to see you. So please, have a nice day and be on your way. The Wizard is good; the Wizard protects us; all hail the—”

“The Wizard is either going to open these doors, or call security when we break them down. Either way, we’re seeing him!” I shouted.

“Miss, please. He doesn’t have time—”

“Time? I’m turning into a scarecrow, you jackwagon. He’s going to make time.”

The gatekeeper scurried inside his post, shut the window, and lowered the blinds.

“Stand back,” I said as the hand of my good arm began to glow prematurely.

“Crisa, you sure that’s a good idea?” Jason asked. “Can you even control your magic when you’re like this?”

“I guess we’ll find out.” I pressed my good hand over the gap between the two front doors so I was touching them both. I took a deep breath, ignoring the pain of the StalkWalker poison, driving my weakness away.

Focus. Just focus.

I exerted all the strength I had at my disposal.

Open. Take us to the Wizard. And protect us from any guards who might try and stop us along the way.

Golden energy flowed through me as I gave the doors temporary life—meekly at first, but then in a burst that spread over their entire framework. The doors quivered, then flung open.

My friends and I stepped through the entrance. There were guards in golden armor at the ready on the other side, but their threat was meaningless. Both doors dramatically ripped off their hinges. One dropped to the floor at our feet; the other shot forward and created a barrier from the guards. The five of us leapt aboard the flattened door, which levitated off the ground and continued moving once we’d stepped on. As we proceeded toward the Emerald Tower, the second door shielded us from the guards trying to stop us.

It was rather incredible. Although my outright commands had been short and sweet, now that my magic had been so heavily trained, it was like the objects I gave life to could read paragraphs’ worth of intention and vision without me needing to specify everything. They responded to my will on a much more cognitive level.

When we arrived at the throne room we found the entrance locked shut. The levitating door allowed us to dismount before converting itself into a battering ram. It wasn’t long before we busted in. That door having completed its task, it went inanimate again. Instead of giving it more life, I placed my hand on the one attached to the throne room doorway and infused fresh energy into it.

“Seal the entrance until I say otherwise,” I commanded.

The door shut curtly behind us with a loud slam.

I turned around. Julian was sitting on his throne, looking alarmed. He reached for the lever near his seat, but Blue hurled one of her throwing knives at him—pinning the sleeve of his jacket to the wall.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” she said as we approached.

Julian glanced at the knife piercing his fine silk jacket—gulping as he appreciated Blue’s precision. Her own shoulder wound had clearly healed.

“Children!” Julian said, darting his eyes back to us. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Clearly,” I said. “You sent us to that cornfield like cows to slaughter. Paige told us herself when we found her; you send anyone looking for her to the Maze of the Mindless so they’ll be turned into brainless scarecrows.”

Our host shrugged. “It was nothing personal. Paige and I have an arrangement. When she came to Oz she requested my help and paid me well for it. She told me her plan about getting turned into a scarecrow. All she asked of me was that whenever people came searching for her I would send them straight to the maze. She knew anyone who went after her would never make it past the StalkWalkers. I was simply holding up my end of the bargain.”

“By pretending to help us when you were really sending us to a death sentence,” Daniel clarified.

“Exactly,” Julian agreed. “Not the most honorable of actions—I admit—but when I strike a deal I live up to the terms, regardless of their moral ambiguity.” An intrigued smile crept across his lips. “How did you make it out, by the way? No one ever has. The fact that you did is quite impressive.”

“We had help,” Jason responded. “Paige trusted us and warned us to get out. Then the heir to the mouse throne led the way. We also had SJ’s portable potions, which pack a punch.”

“Portable potions?” Julian said, freeing his sleeve before coming over to us. “Sounds interesting. Would you show me?”

The room shook a bit as Julian’s guards banged on the door.

“Only if you give us something first,” SJ replied. “Two somethings actually. First and foremost, we were told you have an antidote for the bite of a StalkWalker. Crisa needs it. Now.”

Julian’s gaze shifted toward me. I removed Daniel’s jacket—revealing my arm. Julian’s eyebrows shot up, as did mine when I realized the poison had spread to my hand. It was now half straw, half skin.

“My, you do need a little of my special potion, don’t you? Follow me. My workshop is in the other room.”

Julian led us to a door on the far right of the throne room. Before going through, he pressed an intercom button on the wall. “Sasha, tell the guards they can stop trying to break in here,” he said. “I’m fine. And they’re probably scuffing the floor.”

“Yes, Your Great and Powerfulness. Right away,” the intercom responded.

“Come along,” Julian said, leading us into the room beyond.

We entered the most elaborate potions lab I’d ever seen. Glass tubes ran everywhere, twisting along the walls and ceiling, interconnected by various orbs. Glistening tables were covered with fine platinum equipment. A large fireplace roared in the corner with green flames. Vials and bottles containing colorful liquids and goop lined the wall between massive cabinets. It looked like the blood samples of a rainbow. I was awestruck. I could only imagine how SJ felt.

None of this, though, could compare to the large cauldron at the center of the room. It bubbled with a magma-like substance, glowed like a mutant tadpole, and smelled vaguely of lemon zest.

Julian went over to one of the cabinets. He opened it, withdrew a jar, and gestured for me to sit on a stainless steel stool. I handed Daniel back his jacket and took a seat as Julian placed the jar on the table and put on a pair of blue rubber gloves. “Rubber doesn’t conduct electricity,” he explained as he removed the bandage from my arm.

The wound sparked with defiance, making me want to gag, but Julian was not fazed. He scooped up a handful of the jar’s navy paste and spread it over my upper arm. The antidote did its work quicker than I could have imagined.

Instantly, the magic sparks around the bite marks disappeared. The green rash receded up my arm until it was gone completely. My skin and bone solidified, the feeling came back to my hand, and I soon felt strong again.

Satisfied, Julian ran a cloth under the sink and wiped the blue paste from my arm. To my delight, practically every trace of the wound was gone. All that was left were the bite marks themselves, and they’d shrunk to the size of thin pencil lines.

I hopped off the stool and flexed my fingers. “Wow, that worked fast,” I said. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” Julian replied. “I’m glad you got here when you did. Another couple of hours and there would have been nothing I could do for you. This antidote only works in the early phase of brainless scarecrow transformation. Now, SJ is it?” he turned to my friend. “If I could just have a look at those portable potions of yours . . .”

SJ crossed her arms. “I believe I said there were two things you needed to give us.”

Julian couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, of course. And what was the second?”

“Answers,” she replied flatly. “Paige told us that you are the only person who knows how to regain her memories.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“So how do we do it?”

Julian rubbed his neck and grimaced. “Honestly it’s a fool’s errand. I’d be doing you more harm than good by telling you.”

“With all due respect . . .” I began. “Actually, forget respect. We came here for information and you’re going to give it to us. We’re trying to protect Paige. She wouldn’t have told us the truth if she didn’t trust us. We’re the good guys here. If the bad guys find out how to recover Paige’s memories and learn where our realm’s genies are, we’re all toast. You have to help us.”

“You talk a mean game, protagonist,” Julian responded.

“Crisa,” I corrected.

“Ever think about going into politics?”

“I’ll check out the booth at my school’s next career fair. Now, how do we get Paige’s memories back?”

Julian pressed a button on the back wall—another intercom. “Eva, I’m in the lab. I’ve got some protagonists who survived a visit to Paige Tomkins and are now asking about Glinda and the Passage Perelous. Can you come in here?”

We waited in silence for a half minute before a metallic door slid open. An elegant woman strode in. She wore an ink-colored, floor-length gown with long sleeves decorated in tiny dark-blue crystals. Her décolletage plunged in a deep, if not scandalous, neckline. The woman’s black hair was pulled back into a half-ponytail of loose curls. Her fair complexion contrasted with her dark blue eyes.

“So,” she said, “you want to know about my sister.”

Had I been drinking a beverage, I would have spit it out.

“Your sister?” I said. “But that would mean you’re—”

“The former Wicked Witch of the West,” the woman replied coolly. “But you can just call me Eva.”

Jason tilted his head. “But aren’t you supposed to be—”

“Dead?” Blue interrupted.

“Blue!” SJ piped.

“What?” Blue countered. “You know it’s true. It’s in every version of The Wizard of Oz anyone’s ever read. The Wicked Witch of the West always melts when Dorothy hits her with a pail of water.”

“Yes, well, that is the trouble with such popular stories isn’t it,” Eva mused, her slender fingers tracing the countertop. “People just keep retelling them over and over again. There is a new twist here and there to freshen up the adaption, but no one ever asks the most obvious question.”

“And that would be?” Daniel asked.

“What happened next?”

Eva stood beside Julian and slid her arm through his. “If they did, my husband would not be the only one with the knowledge you are currently after.”

Blue and I exchanged a look. “He’s your husband?” we echoed.

“It’s a simple story, really,” Eva went on. “Dorothy’s bucket of water did not destroy me. I mean, honestly, how people can even believe that in the first place is beyond me. I was a powerful witch. If water was all it took, no one would’ve ever had to destroy me. All they would’ve had to do was wait until the rainy season. But I digress. The point is, the water melted me, yes, but that reaction was only a temporary state while the water did what it was intended to do—cure me of my Pure Magic.”

I couldn’t formulate a single syllable. A rush of hope filled my heart.

“I thought Pure Magic Disease couldn’t be cured,” Blue said slowly, watching me out of the corner of her eye.

“For the most part that’s true,” Eva replied. “But every rule has an exception. All three of my sisters and I were carriers of Pure Magic Disease. It made our magic strong, but—guessing by the expressions on your faces—you know that such power comes with a price.”

Eva sighed. “The disease affected my two older sisters first, the former Wicked Witches of the East and South—Dara and Louise. Dara was killed when Dorothy dropped a house on her. Louise was killed by her subjects during the Great Tin Man Revolt.

“My Pure Magic began to turn me on my twenty-third birthday,” Eva went on. “There was an incident—a boyfriend dumped me and in my rage I lost control over my powers. Dark emotion overtook my mental clarity, and I used my abilities for revenge, inflicting mortal harm on my ex. I convinced myself at the time that this incident was an outlier, but I was never the same after it happened. I’d crossed what is called a Malice Line. The wickedness came more easily after that; over time my abilities became increasingly governed by fury, not focus. And then, well, that’s all she wrote. Or I suppose I should say that’s all he wrote. I should have never let that L. Frank Baum leave here without signing a non-disclosure agreement.”

“Dear, you know the innovations that he and the other storytellers on visa have traded with us over the years have been invaluable to our economy’s growth,” Julian said.

Eva rolled her eyes and turned toward him. “Yes, I know. But do all of them really have to profit from adaptations that make me so horrid and ugly?”

“They’re just stories, Eva.”

Daniel cleared his throat, interceding before their conversation could drift more off topic. “I’m sorry. But what does all this have to do with why the water didn’t melt you?”

“Everything, my dear boy,” Julian said. “If it were not for that bucket of water, Eva would still be the terrible witch she was before. Dorothy did not simply splash her with any random liquid. Before coming to face her, our friend from Kansas went on a quest to obtain special water with magical properties.”

“Not that Mr. Baum put that in his first book because apparently it interfered with the flow of his third act.” Eva scoffed. “Writers. They can crank out a dozen sequels to one idea, but have a fit over the word count.”

“Back to the point though . . .” Julian continued. “My father, the former Wizard of Oz, told Dorothy that there was only one sure-fire way to defeat the Wicked Witch of the West, and that was by curing her of her Pure Magic. The sole opportunity for which was rapidly approaching—the Vicennalia Aurora. Have you heard of it?”

“We have, actually,” I said. “My family was preparing for it before . . .”

My mind went blank for a second. A swift succession of violent images flashed through my head. Fire, collapsing structures, antagonists, Mauvrey, Alex. I swallowed down the agony of my memories and gathered the strength to continue the conversation.

“It’s happening in a month, right?” I asked.

“It might be a few weeks away in your realm,” Eva responded. “However, ours is right around the corner. Time in Oz, Neverland, and Camelot moves much slower than in other realms, like Book and the Superdome for instance. While the Vicennalia Aurora will occur in every Wonderland simultaneously at half past seven, it will be at different points in each realm’s individual timeline.”

“What some people don’t know is that the Vicennalia Aurora is more than a mere celebration,” Julian chimed in. “It is a day when magic in all the Wonderlands is in flux.”

“I’m aware,” I responded.

“Care to recap for those of us who aren’t?” Blue asked.

“Certainly.” Julian nodded. “The Vicennalia Aurora is a name we came up with to define the massive energy fluctuation that periodically courses through the Wonderlands. For the ONC—the time zone that affects Oz, Neverland, and Camelot—the fluctuation occurs about every five and a half years. For other realms this varies. For example, with Book I believe the event only transpires every twenty-five years.

“Because of the fluctuation, on the night of the Vicennalia Aurora the magic in every Wonderland is unstable. Enchantments and curses can be easier or harder to break, certain types of magic can become stronger while others become weaker, and people with Pure Magic are more vulnerable as their powers grow more erratic. This is why the Vicennalia Aurora is the only time that people with Pure Magic can be cleansed by the sole cure for their disease—The Four Waters of Paradise.”

Blue bit her lip. “Hold on, I’ve heard that term before. It’s from Le Morte d’Arthur, Sir Mallory’s tales of Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table. We were reading it in class this semester. The Four Waters of Paradise were used to cure Sir Gawain when he’d been mortally wounded in battle.”

“Very good,” Eva replied with a nod. “Those waters come from a special spring on the Isle of Avalon, which lies in a dangerous part of Camelot. The waters are the purest, most potent form of magical cleanser that has ever existed and accordingly, are the only way to cleanse a person of Pure Magic.

“Dorothy was able to brave the journey through Camelot, collect a vial of the water from the spring, and bring it back to Oz,” Eva explained. “All she had to do was mix it with a bucket of regular water and dose me with it. Which she succeeded in doing.

“The cure melted me down at first, but that was merely a side effect. The properties of the waters were able to work their way through me and every blood cell was thoroughly washed before I magically solidified again. When I did, I was cured. I still possessed the ability that came with my Pure Magic, but it was no longer as powerful and I was no longer tied to the disease. I was free from the darkness.”

Oh, wow . . . I’d never heard such wonderful news. Liza was wrong. Lenore was wrong. Everyone in my realm who knew about Pure Magic was wrong. Maybe the magic itself couldn’t be removed, but there was a remedy to my disease that would keep my heart from turning dark. I could be saved. The hope burned inside me so strongly it felt like my arteries had caught fire.

I was going to find the cure.

“Though while I was saved,” Eva went on, “the same could not be said for my younger sister. Glinda possessed Pure Magic as well, but for a long time we all thought she’d beaten the disease. She was so good, you see—so noble, kind-hearted, determined to stay above wickedness. However, about a year ago she began to turn. Her heart struggled against it, but eventually she was claimed by the darkness inside her. The rest you already know. Her minions have terrorized Oz since she went full evil seven months ago. And they will continue to wreak havoc if no one challenges her. Thank goodness for Paige, though. She is the reason that Glinda is trapped in the North Mountains and can’t unleash wickedness on the realm firsthand. Her mountainous lair is protected by a powerful enchantment. Are you familiar with the concept of In and Out Spells?”

Jason nodded. “More than most.”

“Right, well, In and Out Spells are complicated magic,” Eva said. “While many Fairy Godmothers can muster small, temporary versions on their own, the large and permanent ones usually require a team. However, Julian is the greatest potionist in all of Oz. So when Paige came to us, he created a powerful potion to combine with Paige’s magic, and the magic of the pixies in our realm, to form a hybrid. The resulting In and Out Spell over the North Mountains is not as strong—people can go in, but not out, and it doesn’t prevent other living creatures like crows and flying monkeys from passing through. But it holds Glinda back, and that is enough for now.”

“This is where we come in, isn’t it?” Blue said bluntly.

“Yes,” Eva replied. “You survived the Maze of the Mindless. But if you truly want to retrieve the knowledge that Paige has lost, you will need to journey past the In and Out Spell around the North Mountains into Glinda’s lair where she keeps her memory stone—it contains the memories off all the brainless scarecrows. The problem, of course, is that even if you manage to defeat her and free the memories, you would have no way of getting out. The In and Out Spell would prevent you from leaving.”

“Actually, it wouldn’t,” Daniel said. “We’re immune to In and Out Spells.”

“Not true,” SJ said.

We all pivoted toward her.

“I thought you told us we’d be immune to all In and Out Spells after we broke the one around the Indexlands last semester,” I commented.

“Yes, but that refers to all traditional In and Out Spells that have already been created. The one around the North Mountains is not an ordinary In and Out Spell. It has been mixed with potions and pixie magic to create some sort of new hybrid. Our immunity will not cover that. If we enter the North Mountains, we will be trapped as surely as Glinda.”

“Which means that if you want the memory stone, and want to escape Glinda’s lair, you will need to make the journey during the Vicennalia Aurora,” Julian said. “The magic flux can make enchantments easier to break, so the Vicennalia Aurora will be your only window to pass back through the In and Out Spell unharmed.”

“But the magic flux is unpredictable,” I argued. “It can make certain types of magic stronger or weaker. How can we know for sure that this In and Out Spell will be affected in the latter way? What if the Aurora actually makes it more powerful and we’re trapped forever?”

“The magic flux is unpredictable to an extent,” Julian clarified. “While the flux’s effects are at their peak during the Aurora, in the days leading up to the event you can begin to see signs of how the flux will manifest. Paige, the pixies, and I also created another, less powerful In and Out Spell over the crest of the city. It begins at the top of the outer wall. We reformulated this spell with the sole intention of doing what the first spell did not—keep out animals like flying monkeys and crows. We thought we were successful, but recently birds have been getting through, including the crows that work as Glinda’s minions. Like that one.” He pointed at an open window high up on the laboratory wall.

There was a shady crow perched there staring at us. It had a gray collar on its neck with a tiny black box and blinking red light at the center. Julian threw a paperweight at it. The bird dodged the projectile and flew off before our host could chuck another.

“Glinda has many crows outfitted with video cameras,” Eva enlightened. “They spy on us and report back to her. The second In and Out Spell is supposed to keep them from getting into the Emerald City, but several have made it through in the past two days. This In and Out Spell is weakening because of the Aurora. That’s a clear sign that when the event actually occurs, all similar spells will be penetrable.”

My thoughts darted to Alderon. Did that mean the In and Out Spell around the antagonists’ kingdom would be penetrable during the Vicennalia Aurora? Lady Agnue said that Lena Lenore always stationed Fairy Godmothers there to reinforce the spell during the event, but I wondered if it would be enough.

“Past the North Mountains In and Out Spell, there is one much bigger catch to getting what you want,” Julian said, picking up the conversation anew.

“Why am I not surprised?” Blue huffed.

“The memory stone where Glinda keeps her stolen minds is not an ordinary rock,” Julian explained. “Glinda created it from a combination of Jacobee stone, Avalonian glass, and magic to absorb the memories of the brainless scarecrows and keep them trapped inside like bees in a hive . . .”

Hm, if my dreams connected the way I thought, I imagined that had to be the mystical stone filled with green and purple lights that I’d dreamed about earlier in the semester.

“The stone is all but impenetrable,” Julian continued. “Before the North Mountains In and Out Spell went up, we sent several armies there to try and rescue the minds of the citizens who’d been turned into scarecrows, but the few survivors who made it back recounted that even our strongest weapons and magic attacks could not pierce it. I suspect that there is only one thing in the Wonderlands that can.”

“Which is?” I asked.

“Excalibur,” Eva answered solemnly. “It is the most powerful and feared blade in the Wonderlands. Nothing in all the realms is stronger. It can cut through anything, enhances the strength of whoever wields it, and since it was forged from the magic of Avalon, it is immune to magic attacks and possession.”

“I thought Excalibur was lost after King Arthur died,” SJ said.

“You say lost; I say hidden,” Julian replied. “When Arthur died, the sword was returned to the spirit who gifted it to him—the Lady of the Lake. She, the sword, and the Four Waters of Paradise can all be found on the Isle of Avalon. But the Isle of Avalon is almost impossible to get to. It is hidden in the Passage Perelous—an extremely dangerous part of Camelot that has more perils than any place in any of the realms.”

“Why am I not surprised,” SJ huffed, echoing Blue.

“Time is also working against you,” Eva commented. “Where you’re from the Vicennalia Aurora may be weeks away, but for the ONC it will occur after the sun sets five days from today.”

“Five days!” Daniel repeated.

Five days? Was that all we had? Our mission to find the Author had taken weeks. How in the name of Book were we going to do this?

“Aside from that,” Julian continued, “even if you could get to Excalibur, it might not matter. The Lady of the Lake has made it so that only certain people can claim it. In the seven years since King Arthur has died, no one has managed to do so. What does that tell you?”

“That we’ll have to try really, really hard,” I joked.

“No.” Julian sighed, a look of sadness in his eyes. “It tells you that going after Excalibur is a foolish quest. Dorothy and her allies were able to find and collect the waters from the Isle of Avalon once, but things are different now. In hindsight, I suppose I didn’t take luck into account when I looked at their past success.”

Julian’s voice had grown raspy on the last few syllables, and he glanced at the floor for a moment. Eva put a pale, delicate hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” Daniel asked.

Julian stood up straight and cleared his throat.

“Yes, sorry about that,” he said. “Look, the point is that I don’t advise you go to Camelot. The Passage Perelous is suicide.”

“Maybe,” I responded. “But it’s also necessary.”

Julian appeared truly remorseful, but he did not argue any further. Instead, he went to a different cabinet and took out a weathered book and a rolled-up piece of parchment, laying them on a table for us to take a gander. “This is my most up-to-date book on Camelot,” Julian explained. “And this is the last map we were able to procure of the land. Maybe they’ll help.”

“We actually have a map,” SJ said. She reached into her magic potions sack and took out the document in question. We looked at our map and Julian’s map side by side. They were surprisingly similar.

“Not bad,” Julian said. “This looks even more detailed than mine. No one has a complete map of Camelot anymore; they went out of print after Arthur passed. Mine is an antique. Yours?”

“We put it together from a bunch of research and cataloging we did of Camelot, King Arthur, and the Knights of the Round Table,” Jason responded.

“Resourceful. I like it. You may just want to note the following though.” Julian grabbed a quill from an inkwell and circled four areas in the top section of our map. He then drew a line around another part of the map and made squiggly lines just above it.

A flicker of light and shadow caught my attention—causing me to glance up at the high window. Another crow had parked itself outside the lab and was peering down at us. I glared at it and Eva promptly hurled a sponge at the window, shooing the bird away.

Julian held up our map and pointed at the changes. “These areas I’ve circled are hot zones for the Questor Beast—a nasty creature you don’t want to mess with that lives in the Passage Perelous.”

I saw Blue cringe, but I didn’t know why.

“The line I’ve drawn there is my understanding of where you can enter the Passage Perelous,” Julian said. “And the squiggles just beyond mark the Shifting Forest. I wish there was a way to go around that, but you have to go through if you want to reach the Isle of Avalon. That’s where Dorothy and my . . .” Julian cleared his throat. “That’s where the Four Waters of Paradise were discovered.” He picked up the book he’d brought out. “This book on Camelot has some sections on other monsters in the Passage Perelous and ways King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table beat them in the past. It won’t help you claim the sword, but it might help you get to the Isle. I recommend starting with the chapter on Arthur.”

Julian turned to the right page and handed over the open-faced book. My face dropped. We all gasped when we saw the picture on the first page of the chapter.

Blue snatched the book. “Holy crud, is that—”

“AP,” I said.

The portrait of King Arthur on the page was an exact match for the man we’d met at the Lost Boys and Girls camp in Neverland. From his blond hair to the powerful glint in his eyes, every detail was a perfect match.

“King Arthur Pendragon,” SJ said in awe, “is AP.”

“He’s not dead,” Blue marveled.

Julian and Eva exchanged a shocked look. “What do you mean he’s not dead?” she asked. “Of course he is.”

“No, we met him,” I said, taking the book from Blue. “He’s alive and he’s in Neverland.” I thought back to the conversations we’d had with him. “AP said he couldn’t leave Neverland because he’d been mortally injured in his home realm and the only reason he wasn’t dead was because of Neverland’s weird time properties.”

“And he said that he was killed by his half-brother,” Jason chimed in. “King Arthur was killed by his half-brother, Mordred.”

“We met King Arthur!” Blue stated, still struck by the realization.

“And we’re going to meet him again,” I said. “If Arthur is the only person known to have claimed Excalibur, then he is the only person who can tell us how to do it now.” I shut the book and tossed it to Jason. Then I checked my Hole Tracker. I brought up its map and scrolled through the time settings. “There aren’t any Portalscape Portals opening until tomorrow morning, but there is a clockwise Pop-Up Portal opening in two hours. If we want to conserve time—which we need to, given that we only have five days—we should take that. The Wonderland realm sequence goes Oz, Limbo, Portalscape. Once we get to Limbo, our odds are better because we can take another clockwise Pop-Up Portal or a Portalscape Portal and end up in the same place. Then we just take the door straight to Neverland.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jason said.

Julian stepped closer to me and studied my Hole Tracker’s holographic map, specifically where the shining orange hole of the Pop-Up Portal was being displayed. “I know that area. This hole may be close to some very dangerous territory, but there is a YUR line that runs nearby. If you travel that way it should take you no more than twenty minutes to get there.”

“Would the five of you like something to eat before you go?” Eva offered. “If you are embarking on such a harrowing undertaking, the least we can do is make sure you have snacks.”

“I’ll take that,” Blue said. “I definitely burned up my fair share of calories fighting bad guys today.”

Julian looked sad again, like he truly regretted saying anything at all. “If the five of you are sure you have to do this, I’m not going to stop you. But remember, you must make it back in five days or you’ll miss the Vicennalia Aurora and your chance at rescuing Paige’s memories.”

“We’ll make it back in time,” I assured him. “We’ll find Arthur, reach Avalon, claim the sword, and get Paige’s memory back before the Aurora is over.”

And maybe find the Four Waters of Paradise and cure my Pure Magic in the process, I hoped.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, kid,” Julian replied, his smile returning. “With all that confidence, you should seriously consider a career in politics, if you survive this.”

“Right,” I said hesitantly. “Something to look forward to.”