Chapter 7

Epilogue IN WHICH the Story of the Grace Children Comes to Its Conclusion Jared sat down on the gleaming floor of Arthur's newly cleaned library and leaned against Aunt Lucinda's leg. Mallory knelt next to him, making stacks of old letters written in languages that none of them spoke. Simon flipped through an old book of sepia photographs while their mother poured hot tea into mugs. All of that might have seemed normal if Hogsqueal

wasn't seated on a nearby footstool, playing checkers with a bandaged and annoyed-looking Thimbletack. Lucinda held up one of the paintings of the little girl from Arthur's desk. "I can't believe it. All this time and I never knew." It had been three weeks since they had defeated Mulgarath, and Jared was finally starting to think things were going to stay okay. The goblins had dispersed into bickering groups. Byron was gone by the time they had left the palace, and he appeared to have eaten every last dragonet. Jared, Simon, Mallory, and their mother had all walked home from the dump. It had been a long walk, and they had been so tired that once they'd arrived home, they had collapsed into the piles of feathers and cloth that had been their beds without complaint or comment. It was dark when Jared had finally woken and noticed Thimbletack curled up on a pillow beside him, with Simon's tiny, marmalade cat nestled against the little brownie. Jared had smiled, taken a deep breath, and choked on the feathers. Downstairs he'd found his mother cleaning up the

kitchen. When Jared had walked into the room, she had hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry," she'd said. Even though it had kind of made him feel like a baby, he'd hugged her back for a long time. Later that week their mother had arranged for

Lucinda to leave the asylum and come stay with them. Jared had been amazed to find his great-aunt, with a haircut and a new suit, sitting in the parlor one day after school. When Mulgarath died, his magic must have died with him, and although Lucinda often walked with a cane now, her back was as straight as it had ever been. Mrs. Grace had been less miraculous in curing Jared's school troubles; he had been expelled. His mother had enrolled him and Simon in a private school nearby. She claimed the school had excellent art and science programs. Mallory decided to stay at the old school. She only had one year till she was in high school anyway and plenty still to prove to the J. Waterhouse fencing team. For his part, Jared had locked Arthur's field guide in its metal trunk again. But after all that he still didn't know what to think. Were there creatures still after them? Had the ogre been the worst—or just the worst yet? A breeze blew through the office, scattering papers and snapping Jared out of his thoughts. Simon

jumped up, trying to catch hold of the letters. "Did you leave a window open?" their mother asked Aunt Lucinda. "I don't recall doing so," their great-aunt replied. "I'll get it," Mallory said, and started toward the window. Then a single leaf blew inside. It danced in the air, swooping and swirling, until it fell directly in front of Jared. The leaf was greenish brown, and Jared thought it might be from a maple tree. Written on the leaf in a delicate hand was Jared's name. He turned it over and read:

"It doesn't say where," Mallory said, reading over his shoulder. "The grove, I guess," Jared said. "You're not going to go, are you?" Simon asked. "I'm going," said Jared. "I promised. I need to give them Arthur's field guide. I don't want anything like this to happen again." "Then we're going with you," said Simon. "I'm coming too," their mother said.