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Or maybe he was just hiding from Claire.
    â€œAnd what do you think, Liam?” Alex asked. “Do the names fit them? You’ve hadmore time with them than anyone.”
    â€œYes, indeed,” he said in earnest. “If what Mr. Appleblossom says is true about the story, the name Thisbe is perfect for the one in red, for she’s nothing if not filled with intensity and passion. She cries hard, plays hard, and sleeps hard. And gentle little Fifer, why, the name suits her well. Delicate and sweet. And even her laugh is musical—you’ll know her when you hear it. That’s a promise of her musical future right there.” He faltered, and his eyes filled. He turned away, embarrassed.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Alex asked.
    â€œNothing. It’s just . . . I’ve never felt so strange,” he said. “So full of hope.” He swiped at a tear and regarded the group, trying desperately not to look at Claire. “Thank you for letting me stay in Artimé. Getting out of Quill—it changes people.”

Unfamiliar Territory
    W hen Aaron Stowe finally opened his eyes in the dark shelter, it took him several minutes to figure out that the howling noise he heard wasn’t coming from any of the jungle creatures. It wasn’t Panther screaming her affection, or the rock growling his melancholy loneliness, which Aaron didn’t really care about. He stared at the ceiling without thinking at all for quite some time before any thoughts began to form.
    A few hazy memories floated above his head, and he wasn’t sure if they were real or if they were dreams: The pirates attacking him in his office and dragging him to the fishing boat, throwinghim in and leaving him there, broken. Then pulling his boat behind their ship for days and the awful rocking on the waves. The extreme pain in his shoulder and face was real—he was sure of that, for it was still present. And the horrible thirst was real too. He swallowed reflexively, finding his throat still sore and parched. And his body ached all over. But why? Why had this happened to him? What had he done to deserve it? The questions ran through his mind endlessly, exhausting him.
    Eventually he became aware of a few things, like the fact that he wasn’t in a boat anymore. There was a blanket covering him, and he seemed to be lying on something soft. With great effort, he slid one hand to the edge of the soft bedding and, to his disappointment, felt the cool, rock floor below it. He had hoped, however silly it seemed, that he had somehow made it to the jungle, where he had come to feel the most comfortable he’d ever been with the other misfit, dangerous ones. But this floor was not the jungle floor, and this noise was not jungle noise, and these smells weren’t jungle smells.
    Too exhausted to pull his arm back under the blanket, Aaron fluttered his eyes and closed them. His head listed to one side, and he slept.

A New Approach
    T he next day in Artimé, Alex sat at his desk in his office, which was once known as Mr. Today’s office. Some of the older Unwanteds still referred to it as such out of habit, and Alex didn’t mind. It still looked almost exactly like Mr. Today’s office since Alex had had little time to do anything to it after he’d been forced to step into the role of head mage.
    The one noticeable difference was that the monitors behind the desk no longer showed any images of the activities in Quill. Instead they hung useless and dark. Alex had puzzled over the strange phenomenon for a while when he first noticed it upon returning to Artimé, but it didn’t take him long to realize thatit probably had something to do with the wall around Quill coming down.
    Now Alex wished for a bird’s-eye view into Quill as a new plan began to form in his mind. What were the people of Quill doing? How had they handled the ice? Were they afraid of Gondoleery, or did they support her? Did