Pacifica's skin tingled with magic.

It was a thrilling feeling. Pacifica hadn't felt anywhere near this powerful since she'd had her amulet. She smiled to herself and sat back in her passenger seat on the snowmobile, feeling the cold wind rush past her warm winter coat. Not only did she have magic again, but she had the Northwest servants, who had commandeered some of the Northwest's resources, including a small fleet of snowmobiles, five of which were now racing to the minotaur village. Why hadn't Pacifica used these servants before? They were so much more helpful than the regular Order members.

The servants were less in number than the Order members, though. That was a bit of a problem. But Lord Cipher had contacted the Order members in their dreams last night and instructed them to go to the Mystery Museum at noon, where they would meet a small group of Northwest servants. Pacifica didn't know how many of the Order members would listen, but any who heeded their lord's call would be helpful in the conflict to come.

She was confident that the conflict wouldn't last long. They had Caleb, to begin with: He would get them the dagger quickly and easily. As for Lincoln, another group of servants had left earlier to get in position for their rescue mission. Pacifica was sure that she and the servants would be successful, both in rescuing Lincoln and getting the dagger.

Then, once she had the dagger, Pacifica would take it back to the Museum and stab Mabel with it. With her newfound magic, Pacifica was sure she could succeed at that, too.

The magic danced around her arms, waiting to be put into use. Bill had introduced Pacifica to this new type of magic the day after the portal opened. Hexal magic, he called it. Only the Pleasure family could use this magic, and Pacifica's grandfather, Percy, had been a master at it. Bill had directed Pacifica to books that were remnants of Percy's time at the Order: books filled with patterns and symbols for spells that Percy had created and refined. Hexal magic was an art, and Percy had been a master artist.

Pacifica found a new respect for her deceased grandfather as she studied hexal magic. The magic was simultaneously fragile and sturdy: It needed to be employed against another person in an act of revenge or manipulation; otherwise, it was hard to control. But with a clear target and the right brushstrokes, the magic was sure and reliable. Pacifica had studied Percy's notes and journals from her other Pleasure ancestors; and, with their guidance, she had formed her own spell. Just before she headed out with the servants, she had inked the new pattern onto her arm. The spell took hold with the combination of the ink, the pattern of the strokes, and the Pleasure blood in Pacifica's veins.

It felt good to be powerful again.

She watched the trees rush by, and she wondered how long it would take them to get to the minotaur village. One drawback of Pacifica's particular spell was that it wouldn't last long. She had combined many spells into one — enhanced strength, enhanced speed, immunity to other forms of magic, and intangibility — and that made it hard to hold onto all of them at once. Furthermore, the spell was created to use against Mabel, but very indirectly. It was the dagger that would actually harm Mabel; the hexal magic would simply help Pacifica get to her. This indirect use of the hexal magic made it a bit harder to control.

So Pacifica would just have to be fast. But with the resources she had? She'd complete her objective soon.

Soon, Mabel would be gone forever.

"You're really going to take this to the end, aren't you?" Mabel's voice came to Pacifica, traveling beneath the wind with an eerie echo. "You're just setting yourself up to fall even further once you find out that you can't hurt me."

For the past few days, Spirit Mabel had repeatedly made comments like this. When she hadn't been torturing Pacifica in the dead of night with awful nightmares and terrible screams — something she did often — she'd been making underhanded comments designed to make Pacifica doubt herself.

But Pacifica refused to let it work. "Yes, I am going to take this to the end," she said. Her voice was low, since she didn't want to startle the servant driving this snowmobile, and she knew that Mabel could hear her perfectly well either way. "And you, Mabel, will end up on an obsidian skewer."

Mabel, who was floating alongside the snowmobile with no trouble maintaining their speed, put her hands up in mock fear. "Oh, no, how threatening," she said. She floated a little closer and whispered beneath the wind. "I'll stop you," she said, quietly and confidently. "Even if you get your hands on that dagger, you won't be able to bring it anywhere near me."

"You're trapped in the Mystery Museum," Pacifica pointed out. "You're a sitting duck. Especially against my grandfather's magic." The hexal magic would allow her, in her quest to harm Mabel, to pass through Andrew the minotaur's magical barrier as if it weren't even there. Bill had assured her of that.

"Don't worry; I'm not going anywhere," Mabel replied. "But you won't be coming to the Museum."

"I won't?" She raised an eyebrow and tried to look unconcerned, though in reality she was concealing her rage. And her fear.

"No, you won't. If you think the nights are bad, Pacifica. . . well, just try to take the dagger to the Museum. You'll see how bad I can really make things."

Pacifica repressed a shudder — or, she tried to. Her body shivered, despite her efforts, and Spirit Mabel saw it. A grin spread across Mabel's face. Pacifica looked away and focused her eyes on the back of the snowmobile driver.

A few hours. She could hold on for just a few more hours. Less, if Caleb was really quick about getting them the dagger.

The procession of snowmobiles continued. Spirit Mabel kept pace with them. She whispered terrible things in Pacifica's ears, until the tears in Pacifica's eyes weren't just from the cold wind. Don't scream, Pacifica. Don't retaliate. Don't encourage her. Just hold on until you can get the dagger, go to the Museum, and strike the fatal blow. Just hold on.

The ride to the minotaur village felt endless. But, like most things that feel endless, it eventually ended. Pacifica could see the short cliffs that surrounded the minotaur village. Though she couldn't see the huts or the minotaurs, she knew both were there behind their boundary of invisibility.

A minotaur stepped forward, coming into view as he crossed the boundary. "Stop," he called over the engines of the snowmobiles. "Don't come any closer."

The five servants, still driving their snowmobiles at full speed, ignored the minotaur and swerved around him. They drove past the boundary, and the minotaur village flickered into view — including some nearby minotaurs that were scrambling away from the snowmobiles. The servants hit the brakes, and the snowmobiles came to a stop within the minotaur village.

The first minotaur came running after them. "Stop," he called again. Then, seeing that the snowmobiles had stopped, he stopped as well. "Don't move," he said. "Whatever you came here for, you can't have it."

The servants were silent as Pacifica climbed down from the snowmobile onto the path leading to the village. Her boots crunched on the thin layer of snow, and the cleared snow on either side of the path nearly dwarfed her. She stayed next to the snowmobile, keeping a fair distance from the minotaur. "Would you happen to be Andrew?" she asked him.

"I am," he said. "You must be Pacifica."

She wanted to give a little curtsy here, but that would hardly look dignified in her snow gear. "Yes, I am," she said. "I do apologize for thwarting your attempt to kidnap me last night. Were you planning to force me into the same hut as Lincoln? Or trap me in the Mystery Museum with the others?"

"We were hoping to keep you safe," Andrew said.

Pacifica bristled at this, but she forced herself to stay calm. She raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure Lincoln is very safe," she said.

"Stanley is here willingly," Andrew said, emphasizing the name Stanley. "Why exactly are you here?" he added.

"We want to negotiate," Pacifica said. "You have an artifact and a person who are very important to me. I'm here to request them."

"No," Andrew said simply. "We'll do no negotiating. I'll give Cipher no favors."

Pacifica bristled again — freeing your captive from prison doesn't qualify as a favor, Andrew — but once again kept her composure. "You haven't heard our offer yet," she said.

"I don't want to hear any—"

He was cut off by the click of a gun cocking. Pacifica glanced over her shoulder to see a servant with a rifle, aiming it at another minotaur. The minotaur put his hands up and stepped back.

Pacifica gave the minotaur a significant look, then let her gaze sweep around to Andrew and the other minotaurs who had gathered around. "We're here in peace," she said, "but not in submission. Please know that we will defend ourselves if anyone gets too close."

The minotaurs all seemed to move back a bit. Bill had theorized that they'd be wary of guns, since they had none, and only a handful of them knew magic. It would at least be enough to keep Pacifica safe until she got what she came for.

Speaking of which, where was Caleb? Pacifica couldn't see over the other minotaurs, so she had no idea where he was. She'd recognize him when she saw him — she'd never met him, but Bill had shown her what he looked like — and she found herself getting impatient. They didn't have all day. Pacifica's magic would wear off soon, and the servants' guns wouldn't frighten the minotaurs forever.

"Bringing guns to a negotiation isn't very peaceful," Andrew said pointedly. "You're trespassing on our land, too. I have nothing to say to you. If you don't leave soon, we will have to defend ourselves."

"I see," Pacifica said. "So you have no desire to hear Cipher's offer? No dreams of having more than this simple life in the forest? Cipher could give you anything you wanted."

The surrounding minotaurs made various noises of disgust. "Oh, like they'll listen to you," a female voice said. Pacifica stiffened as Spirit Mabel stepped out from behind Andrew. "They've been cursing Cipher's name since they were born, Pacifica."

Pacifica ignored her, keeping her eyes on Andrew. Would he see through her bluff? Pacifica didn't really have an offer — at least not one that Andrew would entertain for more than a second. She just had to stall until Caleb got the dagger and the other servants rescued Lincoln. Where were they?

"I don't know what you're trying to do," Andrew said in a tone that was clearly concealing impatience, "coming here and promising offers from a demon who has nothing to offer us. You're wasting your—" He stopped. A light came on in his big black eyes. "You're stalling," he said quietly.

"Ha!" Spirit Mabel crowed. "I told you they wouldn't fall for it! You're so—"

Two gunshots, one right after another, interrupted Mabel. They were distant and muted by a silencer, but they were still audible and recognizable. The minotaurs went into an instant uproar, turning wildly to the sound of the noise. It had come from within their village.

Pacifica jumped back onto her snowmobile. "Go!" she ordered, but it was hardly necessary. All five servants gunned their engines, and the snowmobiles took off, going the opposite direction from the gunshots. Time's up, Caleb, thought Pacifica. You'd better have the dagger.

The gunshots meant that the other group — the servants in charge of rescuing Lincoln — was moving forward with their operation. Pacifica's group had to get the dagger and get out, before the minotaurs could recover from the shock of getting hit in two places at once. If Caleb didn't have the dagger. . .

"Caleb betrayed you," Mabel taunted. She had once again followed the snowmobiles. "He abandoned you. Just like your parents. Just like Lincoln."

Pacifica gritted her teeth. Caleb, she thought, you'd better prove Mabel wrong. You'd better meet us at the cave. We need you.

We need you to have the dagger.

~~~~~

Caleb slipped quietly into the tree line. Things were quiet — it was after lunch, but before Pacifica and the servants would come — and nobody seemed to notice Caleb heading for the cliff. He would have enjoyed the peace, except that he was feeling far from peaceful himself. It seemed his whole body was shaking as he made his way to the dagger's cave.

Keep going. You can do this. It'll all be over soon.

Caleb hesitated by the cave entrance, worried that Enoch had been wrong, that Caleb wouldn't actually be able to pass through the barrier. He steeled himself, then stepped forward, cringing as he half-expected to be thrown back and knocked unconscious by the magic.

Nothing happened.

Caleb breathed out a silent sigh of relief. The easiest part was behind him: He was inside the cave. He moved deeper into the cave, watching as the sunlight was slowly swallowed up.

"Papa? Is that you?"

A pang went through Caleb's heart. Poor Enoch. He didn't deserve to get caught up in all of this. But he was, at Andrew's request, guarding the dagger personally this afternoon. Caleb would have to take the dagger while Enoch was watching.

"No, it's me," he said, coming closer. Enoch was at the back of the small cave, which was lit by a single glowfly lantern; Caleb moved into the light so Enoch could see him.

"Hi, Uncle Caleb," Enoch said, sounding a little confused. "Did Papa say you could come in here?"

"Yep," Caleb said. "I talked to him, and he agreed that I should come and keep you company."

"That's good," Enoch said happily. "It gets really boring in here."

Caleb's stomach twisted.

"Is that the dagger?" Caleb asked, trying to ignore the feeling. He stepped towards the small pedestal on which the dagger lay.

Enoch picked it up. "Want to see? I shouldn't let you touch it, but it's kind of beautiful." He held it up; it glinted in the glowfly light.

Caleb leaned forward to get a good view. For all the planning he had done with Cipher to steal the dagger, this was the first time he had actually seen it. It looked remarkably like a regular dagger: handle of bone, blade of obsidian, sinew wrap that bound the two pieces together. The light bounced blue and red off the obsidian blade, and the handle was smooth except for its engravings. Spiraling up the handle were ten symbols, etched into the bone: the Symbols of the Cipher Wheel.

"Eerie, isn't it?" Enoch asked, his voice almost a whisper.

"This is what we're protecting?" Caleb asked. "This little thing?"

"Yeah." Enoch turned it over in his hands. "It's small, but dangerous. Enough that Papa wants me in here to protect it in case someone gets through the barrier somehow. There are old stories, you know, about humans having dark magic that lets them cancel ours." He shuddered a bit. "Even if someone did get in here, though, I don't know how I'd be able to stop them. Papa has only taught me a few spells. And most of them need time to cast."

"I'm sure it's a last resort," Caleb said, even as he felt disgusted at the idea of using a calf as the final line of defense. "Andrew and the others will stop anyone before they can get to the cave."

"Right," Enoch said.

Caleb didn't know what to say after that, so he went and leaned against the wall. Enoch put the dagger back on the pedestal and joined him. They stood there silently for a while, watching the dagger as the glowfly light reflected off its blade. Caleb couldn't take it yet; he had to wait for Pacifica the others.

Eventually, a distant rumbling sound reached their ears. "What's that?" Enoch asked.

"I don't know," Caleb lied; he was simultaneously relieved and reluctant as he recognized the sound of the humans' snowmobiles. That sound meant that Pacifica was here.

It was time to act.

"Can I hold the dagger? I want to see what it feels like." He tried to keep his voice casual as he moved toward the pedestal.

Enoch got to the pedestal before Caleb did; he was pretty quick. "I really don't think you should," he said apologetically, putting himself between Caleb and the dagger.

"Oh, come on. Just for a moment." Caleb reached around Enoch.

Enoch turned, grabbed the dagger, and jumped away. "Nobody's supposed to touch it but Papa and me." A bit of suspicion came into his eyes.

This was it. Caleb took a deep breath and, for the first time in thirteen years, let his mask drop. "Enoch," he said, "give me the dagger." His voice was mostly level, but it shook just a bit.

"No," Enoch said. "What's gotten into you, Uncle Caleb?" He held the dagger close to his chest. Caleb could hear the fear in his voice.

"I need the dagger," Caleb said, trying to stay calm. "I need you to give me the dagger."

"You can't have it," Enoch said. "Only Papa and I are supposed to touch it."

Another deep breath. "Cipher needs it."

He said it mainly to catch Enoch off guard. It worked, though the calf only clung more tightly to the dagger. "What?"

Instead of answering, Caleb lunged forward. He didn't want to hurt Enoch, but he'd wrestled with the calf before, as a game. He knew where Enoch's weaknesses were. He'd be able to pry the dagger from Enoch's hands, easy.

Enoch danced away, avoiding Caleb's outstretched hands. "Stop!" he cried. "Leave me alone!"

Caleb chased Enoch around the pedestal; the calf tried to gasp out the words of a spell, but he didn't have time to finish before he had to dash away from Caleb again. "Go away!" the calf cried; there was real fear in his voice.

Caleb hated that he was the cause of that fear. "I don't want to hurt you," he said. "I just need the dagger."

"No!" Enoch ran away as Caleb tried again to catch him. The cave was small; Enoch wouldn't be able to avoid Caleb for long. With a panicked look in his eyes, the calf glanced between Caleb and the corridor of the cave. Then he made his decision and dashed to the cave entrance.

Caleb sprinted after him. "Papa!" Enoch called at the top of his lungs. "Papa, help! Help! Somebody!"

The rumbling sound of snowmobiles started up again, growing louder as Caleb and Enoch ran. Caleb caught Enoch at the cave entrance, barreling into him from behind and pushing him down into the snow outside. White fluff flew into the air as uncle and nephew wrestled. Caleb felt the obsidian blade nick his hand as he tried to get a grip on the dagger.

"Help!" Enoch's yells were ragged as he tried to escape out from under his uncle. "Help!"

Some humans joined the fray, pulling Enoch back as Caleb pried the dagger from his hands. Enoch had a strong grip on the dagger that was hard to break, but Caleb managed it. He got to his feet, holding the dagger triumphantly over his head.

Coughing and spitting out snow, Enoch struggled against the humans — there were three of them. "Give it back!" he shouted. He pushed himself to his feet, but he couldn't throw the humans off.

"I'm sorry," Caleb said, and he meant it. Not enough to stop what he was doing, but enough to feel real sorrow for Enoch. Enoch might be misguided about Cipher, but he didn't deserve to be part of this.

"Excellent, Caleb!" said a voice. Caleb turned as a human girl jumped down from one of the snowmobiles. "I see you have our prize."

She must be Pacifica. Caleb turned to respond, but he felt something hit his back. Enoch had managed to get free from the humans long enough to slam into Caleb. But before the calf could do anything else, the humans grabbed him and pulled him away, forcing him to his knees. "Don't hurt him," Caleb said. But the humans didn't do anything to Enoch; they just held him back.

Caleb allowed himself a small breath of relief, though he knew he wasn't in the clear yet. He looked back at Pacifica. "It's nice to finally meet you," he said.

She flinched, though it didn't seem to be a response to his words; she glanced over her shoulder in fear. "The dagger," she said hungrily.

Caleb handed it to her.

Pacifica snatched it, looking at it like it was a long-lost treasure. "Finally," she whispered.

Then she screamed.

Caleb jumped at the sound. Pacifica fell to her knees, clutching the dagger much like Enoch had earlier. "No!" she said. "You can't have it!"

She and Enoch were yelling almost the same things. The high, screechy voice of the human and the deeper voice of the calf mixed together in a jarring symphony. The human on the nearest snowmobile jumped down and helped Pacifica to her feet. "Come on," he said. "Let's get back on the snowmobile."

"You coming, Caleb?" called a fifth human, the only one still on a snowmobile. "Climb onto mine."

Caleb looked back to Enoch, who was still struggling against the three humans who held him. "Enoch," Caleb said. He knelt down in front of his nephew. "Enoch, look at me."

"Traitor!" the calf screamed in his face. "Traitor! Papa, I need your help!"

They had to go soon, or Andrew would arrive to stop them. "Enoch, I'm sorry," Caleb said. "I'm sorry it had to be like this. I need you to listen to me, okay? I'm going to go with them, but first I need to tell you something."

"Traitor," Enoch said in a broken voice.

"I know." Caleb took a deep breath. "There's a note in my hut. It will explain everything. Take your papa and go read that note, okay? I'm sorry."

There wasn't time for anything else. Caleb put a hand on Enoch's shoulder; Enoch tried to twist away, but the humans held him fast. "Stay here once we go," Caleb instructed. "I don't want you to get hurt."

He climbed onto the snowmobile. It was larger than the others, even larger than the one with Pacifica, probably to account for Caleb's size. He sat behind the human driver and hoped the machine would hold his weight.

Pacifica's screams had quieted to hisses and moans. She sat behind the driver of her snowmobile, clinging to him with one hand as she clutched the dagger with the other. "Go!" she told him. "They're coming! Get out of here!"

The three humans around Enoch let go of him and got back on their snowmobiles. Enoch rushed for Pacifica's snowmobile, but the driver revved the engine, and Enoch scrambled away from the noise.

The five snowmobiles drove away from the cave, staying parallel to the cliff face as they went. Caleb twisted around and watched as other minotaurs burst through the trees, led by Andrew. "Enoch!" he called, grabbing hold of his son. "Enoch, where's—?"

Enoch pointed at Caleb.

The snowmobiles were fast, and Caleb couldn't see Andrew's reaction. But he could imagine it. "I'm sorry!" he called to his family, hoping they could hear him over the engines. "Read the note!"

Then the snowmobiles drove through the boundary of invisibility. Andrew, Enoch, and everyone else disappeared.

Caleb let out a shaky breath.

He had done it. He had gotten the dagger.

And he felt awful.

But it was over. He was on his way to Yingtai. To Candy.

Caleb closed his eyes and tried to ignore the guilt.

~~~~~

But what of the gunshots?

Lee sat in his prison hut, feeling dangerously bored. Lunch had recently passed, although it felt like it should be dinnertime. Time was slowing down, stretching out, and Lee just had to sit here and bear it.

Ford had stayed with him all morning. That was nice, though being in close quarters with the same person for hours — even a long-lost brother — was bound to get on anyone's nerves. Ford had his third Journal, and he went over the things he'd written in it over the past few days, no doubt hoping to spark new ideas. But he only managed to spark annoyance; Lee didn't want to discuss the same hopeless ideas for hours.

Bill had been right. Getting rid of Bill's mental meddling did make things harder for Lee. He was bored. He felt stifled in his prison. He found himself casting his mind back into the past, trying to find memories from before he'd woken up in the Order headquarters, only to find nothing. He had told Bill he would "deal with it," but that had been before he'd experienced a long day with nothing to do and no chance to go outside. This was maddening.

Then someone knocked on the door, giving Lee something new to focus on, if just for a second.

"Is it Andrew?" Ford said hopefully. He probably wanted to talk to Andrew about things that Lee wouldn't be invited to hear.

Xítway gave a little shrug as she moved to the door. She pulled it open.

Bam! Bam!

The sounds came as bursts of noise, quiet and sharp. Xítway gave a single gasp of air, then collapsed.

Lee instinctively jumped to his feet; Ford did the same beside him. "Xítway!" yelled Lee, running to her side.

He hardly even saw the gunman standing in the doorway. But Ford did. "Wait, Lee, look out!" he called, but the gunman swung the rifle behind her with a flip of her red ponytail. She'd only needed it for those two shots.

Lee fell to his knees beside Xítway. "Xítway — Xítway—" But Xítway didn't respond. Her eyes were empty. There was a hole in her throat; the bullet had traveled back to her brain stem and killed her almost instantly. The second bullet, to her heart, was just a precaution. Blood dribbled down Xítway's neck and seeped through the hole in her leather armor. The armor, intended for protection in hand-to-hand combat, didn't stand a chance against a rifle shot.

With Xítway's death, the barrier spell around the hut had no one to sustain it. The hut went cold as Xítway's magic — both the barrier spell and the heating spell — died with her.

The gunman stepped through the door.

Lee didn't register what was going on around him — Xítway, no, you can't be — but Ford did. He pulled out his stun gun and shot at the gunman, but the gunman expected this and deftly ducked and spun out of the way. Three other people, all dressed in white camouflage like the gunman, followed her inside. Each avoided Ford's shots with the stun gun, moving with well-trained grace and speed. The gunman reached Ford and twisted the stun gun out of his hand; she tossed the gun to one of her companions and pushed Ford down to his knees, all in one fluid movement.

The other two people surrounded Lee, whose shock was quickly giving way to rage. He jumped to his feet and turned on the attackers, but they were ready for him. It wasn't too long before he was back on his knees, his arms twisted painfully behind him, facing Xítway's corpse.

The attackers had their prey helpless. Ford and Lee struggled against them to no avail. The attackers pulled out small white squares from their pockets.

"Wait, those are mine!" said Ford as he recognized his own knockout patches.

"So you know they work," said an attacker. They unwrapped their patches and placed one on both Ford's and Lee's necks. The brothers fell unconscious.

All this happened very fast. Xítway opening the door — then getting shot — the barrier spell going down — then the attackers coming into the hut, subduing the Pines brothers, and knocking them unconscious. The Northwest servants swung Ford and Lee over their shoulders and left the hut. They placed Ford and Lee on their snowmobiles — two three-seater snowmobiles, each with a driver, an unconscious Pines, and another servant in the back to secure him — and started the engines.

Shouts came from other minotaurs who had heard the gunshots and were racing to the source of the noise. None were close enough to do anything. The servants put their snowmobiles into gear.

They drove away, taking their captives and leaving Xítway behind.