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contrast to Tom’s own deep brown eyes and closely cropped, dark chestnut hair.
    While there was nothing particularly menacing about him, neither did the boy exude any warmth or welcome. Instead, a quiet tension ran through him as he studied Tom with undisguised interest. Then, abruptly, the appraisal ended. The boy, having reached some sort of conclusion—a conclusion, Tom sensed, that was not favorable to him—let out a breath and turned away.
    â€œChange your clothing,” he said, indicating a small bundle on the chest beside the bed. “Meet me outside when you’re done.”
    â€œWhere’s Umbrey?”
    If the boy heard his question, he didn’t show it. He parted the heavy cloth that draped the doorway and left without another word.
    Tom scanned the hut’s interior, looking for clues as to where he might be. His attention was immediately drawn to a small table, upon which sat the leather journal Professor Lost had given him. Remembering the professor’s insistence that he memorize every word, he picked it up and flipped through the slim volume, scanning page after page of Lost’s spidery scrawl. The writing was interspersed with astronomical renderings and sketches of ancient ruins, geographic landmarks, and improbable creatures. Interesting, but not immediately helpful. He tucked it into the waistband of his jeans to study later at greater length.
    Tom turned next to a piece of parchment mounted on the wall to his right. A knife pinned it to a rough beam, holding it aloft. As he drew closer, he saw that it was a map. But it was not the map Umbrey had shown him in Professor Lost’s office. This was a hasty affair—just scribbles, really—but easily understood.
    The Five Kingdoms,
the map’s heading read. Each kingdom had been plainly sketched and identified. Aquat, an island chain surrounded by raging seas. Incendia, a city ringed by fiery volcanoes. Terrum, a land of thick forests. Ventus, a range of mountains beset by frosty winds. And in the center of it all, thedark heart of the map, Divino, branded by a glowing red eye. It was there the knife had been thrust.
    The Beyond was merely a dark, shadowy suggestion of land bordering Aquat and Terrum on the map’s western end. A great, looming mass of uncharted territory, at least as depicted on this map. Tom remembered seeing a great deal more detail on the map that had been his father’s.
    He glanced around the stark room, but there was nothing more for him to see. He hesitated, then stepped closer to the map. He lifted his hand and touched the parchment experimentally. Nothing happened. He tried again, focusing intently as he waved his hand inches above the map’s surface.
    A harsh bark of laughter sounded behind him. Tom whirled around to find the blond boy watching him. He stood with one shoulder propped against the doorway, his entire being radiating haughty superiority. A cool smirk played about his lips as he arched a pale brow and said, “Wrong map.”
    Tom dropped his hand. “I know.”
    â€œDo you?” The boy heaved a sigh and brushed past him. He grabbed the knife by the hilt and pulled it from the wall, tucking the jagged blade into his belt. His eyes locked on Tom’s as the map fluttered to the floor between them. “Get dressed.” He turned and left the room.
    Tom gave the bundle of clothing the boy had indicated earlier a cursory glance, shoved back the drapery, and stepped outside. His intention had been to storm after the boy and demand to see Umbrey, but the scene that greeted him froze him where he stood.

    The woods were gone. The Lost Academy was gone. In their place was an open-air market of some sort, but one that looked like it might have existed hundreds of years ago. Men andwomen bundled in ragged clothing shouted out their wares. Crowded stalls, braying donkeys, wooden carts, and tables scattered with goods filled the square. He saw cheeses