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as any other Stillwater student. At the end of the ceremony, if you win, you walk. If you lose, you will undergo the Gifting Ceremony.”

“No hidden surprises?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alypia shook her head. “I ask only that the bargain be upheld. There are no hidden surprises, but if, at any stage, you or I should break the terms of agreement, then the offer will change.” She smiled icily.

“How will it change?”

“If I break my side of the treaty, I will let you and your friends go home, no further strings attached. If you break your side of the treaty, your essence will be immediately forfeit,” she declared, her cold tone making Alex shiver.

Unbelievably, Alex thought it seemed fair. Plus, it meant he had more time, in a safer environment, to come up with a plan for how to get his friends safely home. Within this magical world, he still wasn’t sure how to get back to the real world, but he knew he could research portals and travel techniques with the great library at his disposal. Knowledge wasn’t only a weapon Alypia could use—he could use it too. As much as he hated to admit it, the more he thought about it, Stillwater House seemed to be a far better prison than Spellshadow Manor.

Slowly, hardly believing the words coming out of his mouth, Alex made his decision. “I agree to your terms.”

Smiling, she pulled a scroll from the top drawer of her desk and pushed it across the marble toward Alex. It had the terms of the offer already written upon it in an elegant, italic hand, which made it seem all too real. Frowning suspiciously, he suspected the scroll to be magical in some way, to ensure the agreement was carried out, but, as he pressed his hands to the words, he felt that it was nothing but paper.

The contract was between them alone, and neither was sure of the other keeping their side of it.

Chapter 22

After signing the contract, Alex was swiftly dismissed from the Headmistress’s office. Princess Alypia watched him as he was led away, toward a different wing of the villa. Through the windows, he could see that it was late morning, with the sun not quite at its highest point in the sky, and though he and his friends had only been captured less than half a day before, he felt as if he had been awake for weeks.

The walk was long but scenic, as Alex took in the intricate tapestries that draped the walls of several hallways, showing ancient scenes of battle and beautiful maidens bathing in lustrous forests, being watched by sprites and mythical beasts. It reminded him of a gallery trip he had been on during high school, where they had been asked to pick a painting and sit in front of it with a sketchbook and pencil, to try to emulate the far superior work on the wall. The images on the tapestries and in the large murals that adorned the villa were of the same exceptional artistry, and though he was tired, he marveled at the beauty of the place. Everything was thought out, to the smallest detail. Hanging baskets full of fragrant, vivid flowers showered the neutral masonry with much-needed color, filling the air with a heady, sweet scent. Fountains babbled pleasantly in the piazzas as he stepped across the sun-dappled tiles, listening to the running water that flowed from the tilted urn of a perfectly sculpted statue.

Although it couldn’t yet be midday, the sun was warm on Alex’s face as he followed his guard out into the courtyards and semi-open walkways, emerging from beneath archways only to duck back into the cool shade of other cloisters and down endless corridors of the same beautiful, pale stone. Wherever he was being led, it was a long way from the Headmistress’s office.

After heading up some stairs into a well-lit, glass-fronted hallway that looked out over a small square, filled with a few benches and slender trees that shaded any sitters from the hot sun, the guard paused beside a door marked with a golden “43.”

“This is your room,” stated the guard, a six-foot Adonis with wolf-like gray eyes.

“Thank you,” mumbled Alex. He pushed open the door.

He was expecting a dormitory, much like the one he had shared with Jari and Aamir back at Spellshadow, but was surprised to find it was a single room—small but comfortable, with a bed against one wall and a desk that sat beneath a large, shuttered window. There was another door at the far end of the room that led to a private bathroom, complete with a tub. Everything was simple, clean, and elegant, much like the rest of Stillwater House.

When Alex turned around, he saw that the guard had gone, leaving him to get acquainted with his new living space. The bathtub called to him; he could feel the layers of grime crawling along the surface of his skin, begging to be sloughed off in a deep pool of hot, soothing water.

He was about to turn the faucets on when a light knock came at the door.

“Come in,” called Alex cautiously.

Aamir poked his head into the room, a broad grin on his face. “I’m just next door—thought I’d come and see how you were doing,” he explained.

Alex frowned. “I thought you were in the infirmary?”

“I was. They ran a few spells through me and released me with the prescription of ‘bed-rest,’” he replied. “I do feel pretty worn out… It has been a trying few weeks,” he added with a sheepish expression.

It was the understatement of the century, but Alex was warmed by the awareness within Aamir’s eyes; it was as if his former friend were coming back to him, piece by piece, the real Aamir gathering strength every day.

“What happened to you back there?” asked Alex, plopping onto the soft sheets of his new bed.

“With the Headmistress?” Aamir replied.

Alex nodded, realizing he could have meant any

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