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at all times, in case of an attack.
    Frowning, Chase beckoned three ice griffins forward. Lena had made them for EAS’s standing army. They couldn’t fly or freeze water with their breath, but their claws and beaks were plenty sharp—last week, they’d ruined my favorite blue top.
    I barely even glanced at them.
    Chase had his time with his girlfriend, and he had his time with me. I’d accepted that, but I couldn’t stand the way it had changed him.
    This used to be my favorite part of the day. Once, it had been easy to pretend that nothing had changed. Except for the dummies, it could still be spring. We could still be training for the Tournament. I could forget about my Tale and my destiny and Miriam’s Tale—
    I stopped myself. I refused to think too hard about the quest in the Arctic Circle, especially when Chase was around.
    â€œRory.” Chase planted himself right in front of me, but I didn’t want to look at him. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?”
    I didn’t answer. “Mad” didn’t cover what I felt, but I didn’t know what you called it when you were standing right beside your best friend and still felt like you’d lost him. I didn’t know how to explain that I fully expected the Snow Queen to send people after me again, and I fully expected him not to be there.
    â€œRory, I didn’t know you were in trouble.” His mouth twisted, frustrated and unsure. “I’m sorry. I wish I’d been there.”
    He meant it. I knew he did. But he’d also meant what he’d said in the Arctic Circle, and that hadn’t stopped today from happening.
    â€œOutside, you said no one had been hurt . . .” Chase said slowly. “But we had to jump off a train to get away from the Wolfsbane clan last time. How close was it, really?”
    â€œI thought I wouldn’t be able to get Amy out of there.” My hands began to shake. “I thought I was going to have to surrender to keep her safe. I almost did.”
    â€œRory . . .” He took a step closer to me, arms outstretched, like he was going to hug me. That set off little warning bells in my head.
    I wasn’t sure what I would have done if he’d actually put his arms around me, if I would have pushed him away or just started crying on his chest. I never got to find out.
    The door on the far side of the room creaked open. “You two ready?” Hansel asked, and for the first time all morning, I smiled.

    If you had told me this spring that I would be happier to see the sword master than I was to see Chase, I wouldn’t have believed you. Funny how things change.
    Making me an assistant teacher had been Hansel’s idea.
    He’d called me into his office back in April. I’d never been there before, so naturally, I assumed I was in trouble. Hansel’s office was a third of the size of the weapon’s closet, but I only spotted one weapon in the whole room—his sword, leaning against his knee. Books and papers covered the rest of the shelves. Volumes on troll cultures, encyclopedias on ice griffins and dragons, histories on old Fey wars, guides to learning medieval fighting techniques, and even instructions on teaching. He’d moved some lesson plans off the only other chair in the room. “Take a seat, Rory.”
    I’d sat, bracing myself for some monstrously unfair punishment. I’d already started composing the rant I would unload on Lena and Chase later about how Hansel always picked on me. I mean, he’d started messing with me during my very first sword class.
    Hansel had propped his elbows on his knees, his eyes hard on my face.
    Way too intense. My gaze drifted to the shelf behind his head and the framed picture resting on top of it. In the photo, Hansel had a real smile and a lot less gray in his hair. His arm was around a pretty, laughing woman. Three little girls—blonde and