AS EVIE STOOD, her foot shattered the window beneath her. The coach was dark, with only a flickering orange light to help her see. It took a moment to realize that it was fire. Outside, the trees were ablaze.

She could make out the silhouettes of people near the front of the coach. They were piling onto one another’s shoulders and climbing out through the roof. It isn’t the roof, she thought, it’s the door. We’ve landed on our side.

There was a sinister, dry-throated laugh from outside the coach. Then another. Then a whole chorus of them, like a howling pack of wolves. The horrible cackling scared Evie so badly, it forced her out of her groggy confusion.

“Maggie!” she yelled, her head throbbing from the crash. “Maggie!”

But there was no answer. There were screams all around the coach, people shouting to hurry and climb, and more bone-chilling cackling. Cackling that never seemed to end.

Evie grabbed her knapsack and staggered to the front of the coach. Every bench was empty. There was broken glass everywhere, scattered with people’s belongings.

“To the trees! Hurry, everyone!”

She reached the front of the coach and found two princess instructors lifting people up through the door.

“Come on, love, up you go,” one of them said. Evie stepped onto their intertwined hands. They lifted her through the opening, where she was met with the smell of pine and smoke. The sounds were sharper outside, more immediate. People shouting and witches cackling. And there, above it all, she heard her own name in the distance.

“Evie!” It was Maggie. Her voice was coming from the fog-draped trees.

“Maggie! I’m over here!” She reached back down into the coach and grabbed one of the instructors’ hands. The princess emerged and clambered aside. Together, they pulled the final princess free.

Ten feet from the coach, sword raised and feet at a run, was the stone statue of one of the guardsmen. Beyond him, flames crawled up the pines. Just as they had with the fire at the Drudenhaus, the enchanted trees whipped and twisted to try to escape the flames, spreading a relatively small fire all around the woods. A horse ran past, tack dangling from its neck.

“Come on!” shouted one of the princesses. The three of them scrambled to the edge of the coach and dropped to the dirt.

“Look!” said Evie, pointing back down the road. In the glow of the burning trees, black forms began to float down from the treetops. Each of them was cackling.

“This way,” said the second princess. She and her friend raced to the edge of the road and vaulted over the side, disappearing down the sharp drop into the valley. Evie was about to follow when she heard a soft voice.

“Help . . . help me . . .”

It was the coachman. His leg was trapped beneath the mounting step. He was sprawled in the dirt, agony written across his face. She glanced at the witches staggering up the road, then back to the coachman. She ran to him, heaving the mounting step with every ounce of her strength.

The first of the witches had arrived, slinking around the back of the coach. Her eyes were wide, locked directly on Evie. The loose, gray flesh of her face stretched into a broad grin. Evie pulled harder than she ever thought possible. The coachman screamed as finally his leg slid free.

Two more witches had joined the other, slim and frail figures covered in tattered cloaks. Their dim yellow eyes scared Evie to the bone.

She hooked her arms around the coachman’s chest and dragged him to the road’s edge. The witches lurched toward them, grinning. One reached out with long, skeletal fingers. Evie threw herself backward over the small lip of grass, dragging the coachman with her. They careened down the side. She lost her grip on him almost instantly as she tumbled through the ferns and saplings and vines that clung to the steep stone walls of the valley. Finally, she bounced to a stop at the bottom of the hill.

She was sprawled out on her back. Her eyes fluttered open. There, at the road’s edge, several dark figures peered down into the valley, looking for her. She scrambled farther into the basin, running for the dense fog that rested there like smoke in a cauldron. She scanned the darkened valley for somewhere to go, some sign of one of her traveling companions, but all she found were more shadows, more trees, and more fog.

The coachman. When she turned back for him, she realized she had already become hopelessly lost. The forest looked virtually identical in every direction. Except for one.

She bounded across a patch of moss-covered fieldstones and ended up at the base of an imposing bluff. Vines and roots protruded from the black wall of soil beneath a stony outcropping forty feet above. A gust of wind sent a spray of leaves fluttering down. There were shouts in the distance. She had no idea from which direction they might be coming. She wheeled, searching the fog and shadows for her coachmates. And for witches.

Up ahead, an ancient oak tree sprawled into the late-evening sky like a giant’s rib cage. Evie’s breathing was as quick and shallow as a fox in a hunt, but she couldn’t do anything to slow it. Fear had taken hold.

Occasional flashes of white flared in the darkness. Somewhere out there, the princesses were fighting back. But for every flash of white, she also heard the telltale crackle of a witch’s spell.

All right, Evie, think. Which way is the Academy? She scanned the trees, but twilight had arrived. Her eyes fixed on a patch of sky visible through the canopy. It was still more blue than black. So I’m facing west. That meant she’d have to go over the bluff to get back to the Academy.

“Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh . . .”

The laughter was chillingly close. Evie’s breath caught, her heart thundering in her chest. Her eyes dissected the forest, looking for the witch. There, in the trees on the hill from which she’d just come, two dim golden eyes stared back at her.

“Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh . . .”

More flashes of magic lit up the fog-draped forest. “Go!” came a distant shout. “Hurry, Carmelita, run!” A moment later, the earsplitting sound of a witch’s spell rippled across the valley.

In the shadows, those malevolent yellow eyes never left Evie.

Just as she made up her mind to flee, something caught her attention. There, on the ground, only a few feet in front of the witch, sat a glinting piece of jewelry. Evie’s hands shot to her throat and found it bare. She had lost her enchanted neckband. And that meant she had lost her voice.

The witch stepped forward from the shadows. She was hunched and formless, with two thick, hairy arms clutching the neck of her cloak. Her voice slithered out from a sharp grin of cracked teeth. “Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh . . .”

Evie cast about in her mind for an idea. The one that came to her was a bit mad, but she didn’t have time to think of another. If this doesn’t work, I’m blaming Demetra.

“Hey! Witch!” she screamed as loudly as she could. Her own voice echoed back to her from the neckband. The witch reeled in surprise. She tumbled over, falling heavily on one of the fieldstones with a shout. Evie sprinted toward her.

“You’ll pay for that, you wretch!” screeched the witch, who was struggling to right herself.

Evie grabbed the neckband on the run and bounded into the trees. Up she ran, her feet plowing through the soft, damp earth as she struggled to circle back to the top of the bluff. Behind her, the witch was growling with rage as she floundered on the jagged stones.

Finally, Evie reached the top. She peered over the stony outcropping and saw the black form of the witch down below. With an immense feeling of relief, she stepped to the ledge that faced south. She found herself above the canopy, the valley dropping away in front of her. Even more enchanted forest stretched into the distance beyond that. Above the fog, the sky was awash with silver stars.

“Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh . . .”

Evie wheeled so quickly that she nearly fell over the edge. Another witch stood behind her, not fifteen feet away. Her eyes emanated a dark yellow glow from the hollows of her skull. Pale, mottled skin hung from her cheekbones like seaweed on a mooring. A gurgling sound came from her chest with each breath she took.

A wisp of black smoke appeared in front of her. More tendrils came, like snakes emerging from their eggs. Evie was paralyzed with fear, even though she knew what she needed to do. She’d been training for this. But without a moment to catch her breath, to organize her thoughts and gather her courage, she was just stumbling from one horror to the next. The witch must have sensed it, because her grin stretched even wider, revealing small points of teeth and black gums.

The neckband fell from Evie’s hand.

The witch’s grin disappeared behind a plume of black smoke. Run! Evie screamed at herself. But before she had a chance, there was a primal shriek as loud as clashing steel. A large bird soared down from the sky and slammed into the witch’s head with both talons opened wide.

Evie couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

The witch collapsed as the bird—some sort of hawk, with piercing yellow eyes and a razor beak—beat its wings about her head.

“Have you considered running?” shouted someone in the forest to Evie’s right. There was a girl standing there. She was dressed in the silver uniform of Crown Company. It was a new graduate, one Evie hadn’t seen before. She was beautiful, with soft brown curls flowing down her back beneath a jewel-encrusted tiara. In this moment of terror, Evie couldn’t imagine any sight would ever be so welcome. But despite the joy in the princess’s smile and the twinkle in her eyes, something about her struck Evie as somewhat deranged. “Seriously,” she said. “You need to run.”

Evie grabbed her neckband and glanced at the witch, who swatted desperately at the hawk. “Get away, you fiend! I’ll bite your head off!” Then Evie bounded toward the forest to join the princess.

“The name’s Marline. Princess Marline. Of the Shield, of course.” She gave a proud nod. “Let’s be off, shall we?”

The hawk’s wings fluttered as it abandoned the witch and lifted into the air. Marline turned and dashed into the fog. Without a glance at the witch, Evie sprinted after. As they tore through the trees, the hawk swooped down from above and landed on Marline’s shoulder in stride, as gently as a feather on a stream.

“Wait!” came a panicked voice from the darkness. “Wait! Take me with you!” Another cadet came barreling out of the fog. She was wearing a Leatherwolf uniform.

“Sage?”

Sage raced toward them, her eyes wide with fear. “Evie! Evie, it’s—”

Suddenly, there was a horrific rending of the air. A stream of black magic rippled through the forest and struck Sage.

“No!” screamed Evie, but it was too late. She could already hear Sage’s horrified cries fading to echoes as her skin became cold gray stone.

Marline clicked her tongue, and the hawk lifted away into the night. Moments later, it dove with a screech and began clawing the witch’s eyes with its talons.

“Hurry,” said Marline, who seemed to be enjoying the thrill of it all. “Before she really does get a bite of my bird.”

“But . . .” Evie stared at the statue sitting only ten feet away. “My friend . . .”

“That’s not your friend. That is a four-hundred-pound hunk of stone.” She pointed at the scrum happening next to Sage’s statue. “And that is a witch who’d like to make the same of us.” She grabbed Evie’s arm so hard, it caused a jolt of pain. “Now let’s go.”

Evie took one last look at Sage, her company-mate, the fear of her last moments rendered forever in stone. Then she turned and followed.

•   •   •

The journey back to campus was a blur. Evie’s mind was a jumbled mess. Everything had been so joyful, and then . . .

Thank the Fates for Marline, she thought, following tightly behind the Princess of the Shield. Marline was as decisive as she was fearless. There were several times when a battle broke out nearby and she instantly ran off toward the flashes to help her fellow princesses, leaving Evie to wait and hope she would return. Each time, she did.

Finally, the Queen’s Tower appeared in the distance. It was aglow with a strange blue shimmer that reminded Evie of the ghostly lights she often saw dancing across the winter sky in the Dragonlands. She had never seen it lit up that way before. It’s a beacon, she thought. They know what’s happened out here, and they’re trying to call us back.

By the time they reached the wall, Evie’s entire body felt as numb as if it had been frozen in ice. A small contingent of Pennyroyal staff waited there. Princess Rampion, Princess Copperpot, and several shield-bearing knight instructors called them to hurry, scanning the trees for any witch attackers. Evie nearly fell when the hawk came screaming out of the sky. It landed on Marline’s shoulder just as she ducked beneath the magical barrier a fairy was lifting with her wand.

“Come on, lass!” shouted Princess Copperpot. Evie sprinted the rest of the way, then collapsed to the dewy grass, her muscles spent.

“Hoo!” called Marline, doubled over to catch her breath. “Now, that was fun!”

Evie glanced over at her. She looked down with a wild smile, her hawk staring with yellow eyes.

“She’s here!” barked Copperpot. “We’ve got her!”

“Thank the Fates,” said Princess Rampion, kneeling next to Evie to inspect her for damage. “So they’ve failed at their mission.”

“Get out of here, girls. Keep this hillside clear!” shouted Copperpot. Lance strutted toward where Evie lay, clucking softly. With Rampion’s help, she scrambled to her feet.

“Buhgawk!”

“Come on, then,” said Marline. She twisted her hips, sending a crackle down her spine, then started up the road to campus.

Evie staggered after, though she kept her eyes on the wall. Three of the younger princess instructors, not far removed from receiving their own commissions, raced down the hill and blew past her, each outfitted for battle in dresses and tiaras.

“All right, ladies?” shouted Copperpot. “Most have been coming in from the northwest, so that’s where our teams have gone. Warrior Princess is back, so now it’s strictly rescue and recovery, yes? Headmistress says three coaches, with up to twenty unaccounted for.”

“Yes, Princess,” they replied in unison. Copperpot gave them a nod, and they raced through the gap in the wall, then disappeared into the forest.

“Move, Cadet!” barked Copperpot when she caught Evie staring.

Evie turned and hurried up the road toward campus. She joined Marline at the top of the hill, just as they split from the main road and veered to the right. The Dining Hall’s arched roof was fringed in silver moonlight, with two bursts of flame flanking the doors.

“Thank you,” said Evie. Her voice was thin and wobbly. “I’d still be out there if not for you.”

“Rescue the Warrior Princess not a half day after I’m commissioned,” said Marline, her own voice as carefree as a sailor arriving at port. “Proper good start to my career.”

As they neared the Dining Hall, Evie heard something that seemed totally out of place amidst the harrowing night.

“Is that . . . music?”

“Oh good, you hear it, too,” said Marline. “I thought I was losing my mind.”

They reached the door. Marline pulled it open, and the music poured out. So, too, did the warmth of the roaring fires and the aromas of a hot supper. They gave each other a puzzled look, then stepped inside. Evie was completely unprepared for what she found.

The hearths and braziers were aglow with fire. Candles covered every table. Two young knight instructors played a stringed instrument and a pipe of some kind. Though very few of the benches were occupied, those who were there were enjoying a cozy, festive Pennyroyal Academy meal service.

“Well, it appears the whole world’s lost its mind!” said Marline with a hearty laugh. Her hawk flew off and landed at an empty table, where it began picking apart a steaming golden turkey. “If it means supper, I say we join the madness. Come on.”

She nodded hello to some of the people at a nearby table. They were as filthy and battered as Evie and Marline were, though they all had smiles on their faces. Evie recognized many of them: princess and knight cadets, mothers and fathers who had come for the ceremony earlier that day, Pennyroyal staff.

“Evie!” came a scream from the center of the hall. She looked up to find Maggie bounding toward her. She was smiling ear to ear, a dark bruise coloring the left side of her face. There was a significant scratch through the middle of it.

“Maggie!” She ran between the tables and hugged her friend as tightly as she’d ever hugged anyone. “I thought I’d lost you! What’s happened to your face?”

Maggie gently touched her bruise. “It’s a miracle this is all I’ve got. What about you? How did you make it out?”

Marline strode up, gnawing on a massive turkey leg. “Hiya.”

“She’s how I made it out,” said Evie. “Maggie, this is Marline. Princess Marline.”

“Been a Princess of the Shield for nearly twelve hours,” said Marline. “Already saved the ol’ W.P.”

Maggie looked confused. “Warrior Princess,” said Evie self-consciously.

“Ah,” said Maggie. “Well, I’m very pleased to meet you. Thank you for looking after my friend. Come, they’ve just brought fresh stew.” She led Evie and Marline to one of the tables. Though Maggie was the only one there, it had been set for a feast. Marline sat backward, leaning against the table and chewing on her turkey leg.

“What’s going on here?” said Evie. She took a place across from Maggie and began dishing food onto her plate. “It’s like some sort of celebration.”

“I dunno. I’ve only just got back myself.”

“Ah, there you are!” said Princess Moonshadow, skittering over to their table. She was a second-class instructor with dark features and a slightly spooky air. She always smelled of rain. “Cadets Magdalena and Eleven, if I’m not mistaken?”

“That’s right,” said Maggie. “And Princess Marline.”

“Looking well, Moonshadow,” said Marline with a casual salute.

“Thank you.” The princess began scrawling their names on a parchment. When she finished, she looked over her list. “Excellent! Nearly everyone’s made it back.”

“Not everyone,” said Evie. “Cadet Sage of Leatherwolf Company was turned to stone.”

“What?” said Maggie, her hands shooting to her mouth.

“Oh,” said Moonshadow. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that.” She shook her head sadly as she noted it on her chart. “We’ll find her just the same and get her into the Infirmary. Still, with you three back, that’s only”—she looked over her list, then flipped to the next parchment—“nine left unaccounted for.” Her face fell. “Eight, with Cadet Sage.”

“How do you know how many are missing?” said Maggie.

“We’ve confirmed that only the last three coaches to depart were attacked. And nearly everyone on board those three has made it back. But don’t worry, girls. We’ve got teams out there now finding the rest.” She tried to give them a reassuring smile, but it came across as creepy. Then she wandered away.

“Only three coaches,” said Evie. “That’s not so bad. It felt like the whole forest was filled with witches.”

“Demetra and Basil will have made it through. They probably don’t even know what happened.”

Near the Dining Hall doors, there was a flurry of activity. Five new survivors entered and were greeted with hugs and smiles.

“Now it’s only three,” said Maggie.

Evie turned to scan the faces but didn’t recognize them. They were family members who had come to cheer on their cadets at the ceremony. One of the princess instructors ushered them to a table. The musicians began a new song. Evie smiled ruefully when she recognized it as “Josephina with the Dark Blue Eyes.”

Marline gave a sharp whistle, and her hawk flew over, landing heavily next to a bowl of potatoes. “Leave some for the others, you old buzzard,” she said. The hawk turned its back to the food and sat at the edge of the table. Maggie’s eyes shifted to Evie in amazement.

Just then, Princess Beatrice burst out from the kitchens pushing a cart with a steaming roast on top of it. Her assistant, the lumpy, snarling Corporal Liverwort, followed with another cart. Watching Beatrice smile as she surveyed the Dining Hall only added to the surreal atmosphere. “Take over for me, will you, Princess Moonshadow?”

Leaving her cart to Moonshadow, the Headmistress swept toward the front of the hall, arms held wide. “I’m told we have new arrivals! Welcome, everyone! Fill your plates and cups. There’s plenty for all!”

A group of parents that had been huddled near one of the fires closed in on her, all speaking at once.

“Please, please, ladies and gentlemen, do try to remain calm.” Evie studied the Headmistress. She was surprised to find herself feeling somewhat angry. Beatrice spoke to the parents in an entirely different tone than she used with the cadets—with them she was warm, even friendly. “It’s been a trying night, but I’ve just been told that nearly everyone has been found. Of the three who remain missing, two are Princesses of the Shield. I have no doubt that we shall recover them quickly.”

Tell that to Sage, thought Evie ruefully.

“I know you were expecting to be home in your own beds by now, but it seems the Fates had other plans.”

“The witches had other plans!” yelled the father of a third-class cadet.

“Indeed, but you must rest assured that we here at Pennyroyal Academy have things well in hand. Hug your families tightly and enjoy a warm meal. You are safe now. With respect to the witches, we have seen it all before. Birds have been dispatched to our surrounding kingdoms. Before long, help will arrive to assist in clearing and holding the roads to get you back to your homes. Until then, take comfort in the fact that you are almost certainly safer here behind our wall than anywhere else. Now, please, enjoy our hospitality and leave the rest to us.”

The buzz of voices started up, punctuated by bouts of laughter. Beatrice’s speech had worked. Families hugged and shared stories about the frightening experience, their fears put to rest by the steadying hand of the Headmistress General.

“Seems to me they should have been ready for this,” said Marline, taking another bite of meat.

“How could anyone have predicted it?” said Maggie. “It was a sneak attack!”

“They put the bloody Warrior Princess on an ordinary coach only one year removed from graduation with guards to protect from the Vertreiben but not from witches. That’s tossing meat in a bear’s den.” A huge chunk of turkey came off in her teeth and flopped against her chin.

Evie’s stomach began to sink. “Are you saying this happened because of me—er, I mean, the Warrior Princess?”

Marline shrugged, sifting through some peas with her fingers and pulling out the carrots. She popped a few in her mouth, then tossed a few over to her hawk. “What, you think it was some random attack like Beatrice over there? All I know is I’ve just spent three years being told how cunning the witches are and how they can’t stand working together. But that looked awfully coordinated to me.”

Evie crinkled her forehead, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. It was terribly difficult to do with such happy music playing.

Suddenly, the doors burst open. Another group entered, though this was altogether different from the last. Three heavily armored guards came through first, followed by a man in black armor and furs. Behind the man was a first-class knight cadet with dark, longish hair and a doublet embroidered in the scarlet and black of Huntsman Company.

“Look!” said Maggie. “It’s Forbes!”

“Beatrice!” called the man in the furs. He was cut from granite, with a silver beard and a sour, sneering face. Evie recognized him from the end of her first year of training. His name was King Hossenbuhr, Forbes’s father, and if the stories were to be believed, he was a rotting lemon of a man. “What is the meaning of this? Why have I found my boy in the woods, cowering from witches?”

Forbes’s face dropped in embarrassment.

“King Hossenbuhr!” said Beatrice. She left the group of parents she was with and went over to him. “You weren’t listed on our coaches. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve only just arrived. I had the novel idea of seeing my son advance with his class. I never expected witches to be my welcoming party.”

“Yes, well, you’re safe here now behind our wall. Come, please, have some supper. One of our knight cadets will clear space for you in the barracks.”

“Barracks?” He glanced back at his guardsmen with a face like a dried-out sponge. “I’d prefer something a bit more . . . defensible, if it’s all the same.”

“We are behind an impenetrable field of magic, Your Majesty,” said Beatrice. “You are safer here than in your own kingdom.”

“Yes, well, I’d have to be, wouldn’t I? Diebkunst has fallen.”

“Oh . . .” said Beatrice, flustered. “Oh, I’m so terribly sorry.”

Evie glanced at Forbes, who was staring at the floor. Her heart went out to him.

“If you’d like something with more traditional defenses,” said Beatrice, “you are more than welcome to stay in Copperhagen Keep.”

“Fine. And I’ll take my supper there as well, if you please.”

“O-of course,” stammered Beatrice. “Corporal Liverwort, show the King and his men to Copperhagen Keep, please. Send some food round as well.”

“Aye, Mum.”

The King and his retinue turned to go. Forbes’s eyes met Evie’s, then quickly looked away as he ducked out into the night.

“For a man whose son used to be a pig,” said Maggie, “the King seems to have awfully little faith in magic.”

“I don’t know,” said Evie. “You can’t really blame him for wanting thicker walls if his kingdom’s just fallen.” She swirled her fork through her potatoes without eating any. A moment later, Beatrice strode up to the end of their table, a prim smile on her face.

“Well, then, ladies, how are we getting on? Have you been to see Princess Wertzheim in the Infirmary?”

“Not yet,” said Evie.

“After supper, then.” She tapped her fingers lightly on the table. “Listen, girls, I’d like to ask a favor of you.”

Evie glanced up at Beatrice, utterly flummoxed. “A favor? From us?”

“Of course, Headmistress,” said Maggie. “Anything we can do to help.”

“I’m afraid our nerves are all a bit frayed. We could really use your help making everyone feel welcome here at our home. I’ve been asking cadets, knights, and princesses if they wouldn’t mind showing our guests around a bit tomorrow. Give them a feel for what we do here. Maybe lead them through a training exercise or two—”

Marline snorted out a laugh, then quickly recovered. “Sorry, Princess.”

Beatrice scowled, but continued. “Many people spend their whole lives without encountering a witch. Though they are all fine now, this has to have been difficult for them. It will put quite a lot of hearts at ease if they can see how well prepared we are for such things. And I’m sure many of them have always wondered what our training regime looks like.”

“Right, I’ll just say it,” said Marline, an incredulous smile on her face. “You want us to play at being princesses to entertain these people? Sorry, Mum, but that’s madness.”

“Cadet, that is—”

“I’m not a cadet. I’m a princess, same as you,” said Marline, though she was only a year older than Evie and Maggie.

“Be that as it may, this is still my command,” said Beatrice, her face suddenly clenched into its usual stony glare. “And get that bird off my table.”

Marline stood. She gave the slightest nod, and the hawk bounded off the table and landed on her shoulder. “You lot can play princess if you like,” she said, her eyes still fixed on Beatrice. “I’m going down to the wall to see if I can’t help find those last three.” She strode away, leaving Beatrice fuming.

“We’ll help however we can,” said Maggie.

Beatrice’s cold stare followed Marline out of the Dining Hall. Only then did Maggie’s words register. “Thank you. None of us would choose to be here under these circumstances, but the least we can do is make it bearable for our guests. Help them find a nice bunk, get them situated in the barracks, and do whatever you can to keep their spirits light, yes? Show them that not only do we prepare for our enemies here at the Academy, but we also enjoy a bit of fun.”

“Of course, Headmistress,” said Maggie.

“Excellent.” She turned to go.

“Headmistress?” said Evie. “I know we’re safe now, but it was pretty bad out there . . .” She didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Thankfully, Beatrice seemed to understand her meaning anyway.

“Every single bird in the Mews has been sent, Cadet. I wouldn’t be surprised if help arrives before dawn. But even if it does take a bit longer, the wall is here to protect us. As long as we’re patient and keep our spirits up, we’ll be absolutely fine.” She gave them both a nod, then moved on to the next table. Evie looked over at Maggie and raised an eyebrow.

“What? You don’t believe her?”

“If everything’s going to be fine, why send every bird we’ve got?”

Maggie sighed and shook her head.

“What? It doesn’t sound a bit desperate to you?”

“It was probably just a figure of speech. I’m sure she doesn’t mean every single bird.”

Evie’s eyes fell to the table. Something was niggling at her, but she couldn’t place what it was. “Sage was turned to stone right in front of my eyes. I do believe Beatrice, but . . .” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “It’s still scary.”

“Well, that is certainly true,” said Maggie. “Scariest night of my life.”

“Mine, too.” A chill ran through Evie’s body as a thought entered her mind. Scariest night of my life until the next one.