“I will,” she said. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.” She turned around just as the enormous pile of owlbats, beavops, rabbitkeys, squirrelicorns, and platyprots, all still propped against the wall in the design of the spectacular towering ladder Sean had been building, began to wriggle and squeal. Alex turned to look too, just as the gigantic heap combusted into a hurricane of feathers, beaks, horns, and tails. The ones who could fly wriggled free and did so, while the ones who couldn’t fell like plump, squishy sacks, splatting to the ground, screeching and squealing and yipping, but unhurt. All the platyprots began imitating the noises of the others, so it sounded like three times as many creatures in an instant cacophony strong enough to make the Unwanteds nearby hit the dirt in fear. Alex put his hands over his ears and watched in horror.

“Oh dear,” he said. He hadn’t thought that one through, that was for sure. He whipped his head around as creatures flew and stormed past him, some joyous, others furious, all of them still not understanding what had happened. “Rufus!” Alex called out when he saw his squirrelicorn teammate from the battle, but it was no use. Everyone else was shouting too, and no one could be understood.

Alex’s eyes landed on Jim, who stood up rather gingerly, testing his legs and wings, but he seemed well enough. The ground shook as the girrinos got to their feet. And then Alex’s heart caught in his throat. Abruptly he turned and shouldered his way desperately through the masses, trying not to get trampled, trying to head toward the shore against the flow of traffic as everyone else went to find friends and make their way into the mansion to find shelter, food, and the comfort of their rooms. Nearby Alex saw the beloved octogator, Ms. Octavia, rise to her tentacles, and he watched as someone unwittingly knocked her glasses off her alligator snout. Alex reached for them and handed them to her, thrilled to see his instructor alive again. “Find Sean or Mr. Appleblossom!” Alex called out to her before she was picked up by some students and swept to safety.

Each second that passed was excruciating as Alex forced his way through the bodies toward the shore, but finally the crowd thinned. Before long Alex was left alone on the beach, a most bizarre feeling after weeks of no room to breathe, much less stand alone and contemplate. But Alex wasn’t thinking about that. He held his trembling hand up to shield his eyes from the sun and stared at the water.

“Come on,” he whispered, the breeze tumbling around him, and he ripped his fingers through his hair to move it out of his eyes. “Come on,” Alex said again, pleading this time. He sank to his knees, not trusting himself to stand any longer, the waves lapping up around his legs. He strained forward, blinking away the burn in his eyes. “Come on!” he shouted at the water, his voice ragged and catching on the words. “Come on, Simber! You should be here by now! Everyone else is alive!” Another moment of silence and nothingness. Then two.

Alex lowered his head, picturing the cat reduced to a pile of sand at the bottom of the sea. His chest caved in to sobs. “You said you wouldn’t leave me,” he whispered. He covered his face, overwhelmed with sorrow.

And so it was that in the midst of chaos and color and light, in the glorious rebirth of a magical world, there remained two small vessels dark and drained. And those vessels were the heart and the soul of a brokenhearted young mage, sobbing alone in the sand.

It was only then that the sea before him exploded.

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It was as if the sea had wings, its destination the sky. The water shot up like a geyser to an enormous height, and once it reached its zenith, it fell back to the surface in sheets, slapping and booming like thunder, until only the creature responsible for the watery show remained airborne.

At the first sound Alex had looked up, and now, with his chest stuck in a gasp and his heart throbbing in his throat, he scrambled to his feet and began waving like mad to the giant stone cheetah half a mile out.

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It took Simber a good deal less time to cover the distance than it had taken Alex, who’d been dragging the unconscious Meghan through the water, and before Alex could fully comprehend that his beloved Simber was truly not melted into silt on the sea’s floor, the cheetah descended and came to an elegant stop next to Alex. He arched his back and shook himself wildly, his stone skin rippling as water fell around him.

“Simber,” Alex breathed, and when the beast had finished shaking, Alex flung himself around the cat’s neck and held on for dear life.

After a long moment, Alex found his voice again. “I don’t even know where to start,” he said, his face pressed against the cold stone of Simber’s neck. He smeared his tears across his dirty cheek, trying to wipe them away.

“I can only guess what went wrrrong,” Simber gargled. He cleared his throat.

“We lost . . . a lot,” Alex said, then closed his lips and pressed them together.

“The last I rrrememberrr, we werrre on ourrr way home. Then I woke, of all places, underrrwaterrr.” He shuddered at the thought. “It took a bit of time to get my bearrrings and swim towarrrd the surrrface.”

Alex nodded and let go of the cheetah but was unable to look the statue in the eye.

Simber regarded the boy’s ragged, dirty appearance carefully, and wrinkled up his nose. “How long has it been since I . . . frrroze?” He began to lick the remaining droplets of water off his back and legs.

Alex took a breath, hoping to steady his voice. “Weeks,” Alex said.

Simber stopped licking and stared hard at the boy. His expression didn’t falter, but his eyes gave away everything. “Couldn’t Marrrcus . . . ?” He stood alert and sampled the air, his ears moving wildly. “Wherrre is he? Why arrre you wearrring his rrrobe?”




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