The Faceless threw Kara into a domed cage that seemed to have risen from the very ground itself. There wasn’t enough room for Kara to stand at her full height, so she balanced herself on her knees and shook the bars. They were made from paper but as sturdy as iron.

A second paper cage stood right next to hers. Taff was crouched inside.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine. I just feel a little stupid.”

“For trusting Grace?”

“Oh, I never trusted her,” Taff said. “Not for a moment. I just figured she would try to trick us after we escaped, not before. Doesn’t she want to get out of this place?”

“I honestly don’t know what she wants.”

“I feel stupid because I kept my hideaway in the sack and not in my pocket. It would be really useful right now. I should have thought of it.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Kara said. “You should have entertained the possibility that masked monsters might imprison us in paper cages.”

This made Taff smile.

“You never know, with us.”

Just outside the cage, the Faceless gathered in a circle. Their tiny neck-arms rotated until each face was fitted with the same mask, a small mouth open wide in a grotesque mockery of talking.

For the first time, Kara heard the Faceless speak, a strange concoction of clicking sounds.

“What are they talking about?” Taff asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe what to do with us?”

“I sure hope not,” Taff said. “That sounds like angry clicking.”

Finally, the Faceless all nodded in agreement and changed back to their bulbous-eyed masks. Kara watched the closest one carefully, trying to catch a glimpse of what its real face might look like, but as the masks rotated, the creature lifted its hands to hide the face beneath. All Kara caught was a brief flash of white between paper fingers, nothing more.

A few moments later, she heard Grace scream.

“No! What are you doing? I helped you! I helped you!”

Dragging Grace by one arm, the Faceless opened the door to Taff’s cage and tossed her inside. She shoved Taff out of the way and pressed her face against the bars of the cage, continuing her entreaties: “You’re making a mistake! Let me out of here! Let me out!”

The Faceless ignored her.

“Is this one of those times when it’s okay to laugh at someone?” Taff asked Kara.

“You’ll get no scolding from me.”

Taff opened his mouth and shook his head. “I missed my chance. Now I’m just mad again.”

Any pretense of cooperation had vanished from Grace’s face. Strangely enough, this made Kara feel more comfortable. At least she was on familiar ground again.

Grace asked, “Did you really expect me to help you?”

“No,” Kara said. “But I thought we could have helped each other.”

Grace’s hair had come undone. She took a deep breath, regaining her composure, and began to steadfastly fashion it back into a ponytail.

“Perhaps,” said Grace, “if there had been the slightest chance of your plan succeeding. But the Burngates? Honestly, I expected better. Any witch who’s ever had a single thought of escaping has tried that. Hundreds of Faceless gather together to guard them when they open. You wouldn’t have been able to get close.”

Kara saw Taff look away to hide his blushing face. If there was one thing he hated, it was being accused of having an unoriginal idea.

“What about the chosen?” Kara asked. “The ones who pull the new witches into the Well. Surely they have a good chance to slip away.”

Grace sighed with impatience.

“They’re tethered around the ankles. Trust me, the Faceless have thought of everything. There’s no escaping this place.” She shrugged. “The most reasonable course of action seemed to be to turn you in.”

“Why?” Kara asked. “What did you possibly hope to get in return?”

Grace indicated the single paper strip hanging from her ring.

“They remove them sometimes, when you do a particularly good job. For a long time I was the only one with an empty ring, and I wanted to be perfect again. I wanted to be the best witch of all. But these Faceless have made a terrible mistake. They seem to think that I was actually helping you two.” Grace clapped her hands together as an idea occurred to her. “Maybe you can tell them the truth! My plan from the beginning was to turn you in, I promise. Tell them that! It could really help me.”

“All your talk about changing, regretting the past,” Kara said, “I actually started to believe you a little bit.”

“But that was all true,” Grace said. “I do feel bad about the way things turned out. If I had done a better job conserving the pages of my grimoire, I would still be in the World right now, casting spells.”

“What about the people you killed?” Taff asked. “Do you feel bad about them?”

“Of course I do,” said Grace, insulted that Taff would think otherwise. “I should never have hurt them. I was wrong. If I could go back and change things I would.”

“Oh,” said Taff.

“I wasted so many pages on people who were not the least bit important. Once I have a grimoire again I’ll only kill the people who absolutely need killing—I promise you that.” She turned to Kara. “And whose fault was it that I lost control, anyway? Let’s not forget that you were the one who stole the grimoire from me. The need to use it built up and up—you know how it works—until I couldn’t help myself. If you had just minded your own business, Kara, then maybe none of this would have happened. ‘We are all at fault for evil.’ That’s from the Path itself.”

Kara spoke quietly through gritted teeth. “Just be glad you’re in the cage with Taff and not me.”

“Goodness, Kara!” Grace exclaimed, clapping a hand to her chest. “When did you become so violent?”

“What are they doing?” Taff asked, watching the Faceless through the bars of the cage. They had arranged a large rack on the ground, like something one might use for drying clothes, and were currently pulling long strips of paper from their bodies and draping it over the rods.

“Oh no,” said Grace. “This is just what I was afraid of.”

“What?” asked Kara.

“They’re going to change us,” Grace said, her voice trembling. “Make us like them. I’ve seen it done before. We were all forced to watch as a warning. They prepare the . . . skin first. Lay out the paper in strips. They’ll need a lot of it, especially for three of us. After that, they’ll rest so their own bodies can regenerate what they’ve torn away. When they wake up they’ll bring us to the Changing Place.”

“What’s that?” Kara asked.

“A building. A temple, some say. We’ll go in, and when we come out . . .”

“We won’t be us anymore,” Taff said.

Grace nodded, her eyes wide with terror.

“You have to get me out of here,” she said. “I’ll do anything. I’ll undo the curse on your father. For real this time. Just don’t let me turn into one of those things.”

Kara watched the Faceless take turns flaying one another. The paper peeled away from their bodies with a slight sucking sound, like a foot removed from a stubborn boot, exposing gray skin. Soon dozens of strips dangled from the rack. One of the Faceless, the skin of its chest mostly exposed now, knelt down in front of their cage. Neck-arms spun until a new mask fitted onto its face: eyes closed, mouth open in an exaggerated snore. Its arms fell to its side, like it had instantly fallen asleep. The other Faceless did the same thing, until all five were kneeling before the cages in a neat line. Kara could already see their paper skin regenerating, the remaining strips growing taut and then lengthening to cover the missing spaces.

“How long will they stay like this?” Kara asked.

“An hour,” said Grace. “Maybe two.”

“Can they see us?” Taff asked. He waved his hand back and forth in front of the bars, checking for a reaction.

“I don’t think so,” said Grace. “It’s like they’re hibernating. But they can still hear, loud noises at least. That much I’m sure of.”

“Why should we believe anything you say?” Taff asked.

Grace clapped her hands and two of the Faceless whipped their heads in her direction. They stared for a moment—as much as one could stare with closed eyes—and then returned to their previous resting position.

“I was going to suggest rocking the cage back and forth,” Kara said, “but clearly that’s out. Any quieter ideas?”

“What about using the grimoire page?” Taff asked.

Grace curled her long fingers around the paper bars of the cage. “What?” she asked, her eyes blazing. “You have a page from an actual grimoire here?”

So much for keeping it hidden from her, Kara thought.

“It’s for Father,” said Kara. “We can’t waste it.”

“We only need one spell for that,” Taff said. “There are two sides. It’s worth a try, at least.”

Since she didn’t have any better ideas, Kara reached into the inner pocket of her cloak for the page. She knew something was wrong the moment she touched it.

“No,” she said. “No, no!”

It was practically falling apart in her hands, like an old letter left to molder in a trunk for decades.

“That’s from a grimoire?” Grace asked.

Kara nodded.

“Odd,” Grace said. “When I tore a page out of my grimoire it worked just fine. Must have been something you did.”

“You used it just a few seconds after you tore it out,” Kara said. “But this one’s been out of its grimoire for quite some time. I wonder if that makes a difference.”

“Like a leaf,” Taff said. “It can survive for a little while on its own, but eventually it’ll die if it’s not attached to a tree.”

“Great,” said Kara, looking down at the crumbling page. “Something else to worry about.”

“Give it here,” Grace said. “I’ll set us free. Come on. It’s useless to you anyway. Your spells only work with animals. You’re limited.”

Kara started to slide the page through the bars but held it back at the last moment.

“Oh, come on,” Grace said, reaching her hand as far as it would go. “We don’t have time for this. All I want to do is get out of here, just like you.” Grace reached farther, her fingertips practically brushing the page now. “Come on, Kara. Just give me the page. Give it to me.”

“No,” Kara said. “This is a mistake. I can feel it.”

She folded the page carefully and returned it to the inner pocket of her cloak. Grace glared at her with icy fury.

“It isn’t nice to tease. And exactly how do you expect me to fix your father if you won’t let me cast a spell?”

It’s a good question. I’m going to have to trust her eventually—but not yet.

“Any others ideas?” Kara asked Taff.

“Nothing. How about you?”

“Sorry.”

The skin of the Faceless was nearly complete. The centermost one had begun to twitch slightly, as though having a bad dream. It wouldn’t be long now before they woke.

What will it be like? Will I be trapped inside my new body? Or will only the monster remain?

“Isn’t anyone going to ask me if I have an idea?” asked Grace.

“Do you?” asked Taff.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. And unlike your idea, this one is going to work. Now let’s hold hands.”

“Huh?”

“Oh!” said Kara, brightening. “I know what she has in mind. Like what we saw them do in the forest to cut down trees.”

Taff tapped his knuckles against his head. “I should have thought of that!” he exclaimed.

“Only you didn’t,” said Grace.

“Will it even work? I’m a boy. I can’t do magic.”

Grace did not bother to conceal her impatience. “It’s not magic. It’s thinking. Boys can think.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Sort of.”

Getting as close to the bars as she could, Kara reached her long arms into the next cage. Taff took her right hand and Grace took her left. Kara saw her brother grimace as he intertwined his fingers with Grace in order to complete the circle.

“I was a Cutter for a little while before the Faceless realized my true talent was in Whispering,” Grace said. “It’s not just a matter of thinking about the right word. You need to attach an image to it to give it strength. So if you’re using the word chop, make sure you attach a memory of someone chopping firewood. Sounds and smells work too—sometimes even better. My thought-cuts are going to be flawless, of course, but it has to be all three of us for this to work. Understand?”

“Can we just start?” Taff asked Grace. “The quicker we get this over with, the quicker I can stop holding your hand.”

“Fine,” said Grace. “Let’s begin.”

Kara closed her eyes, just like she had done when she was first learning to be a wexari, and imagined slicing a potato, heard the tap-tap-tap of the knife on the cutting board. She felt the two hands tighten in hers and the mind pictures sharpened, became more concrete—not just images anymore but a tool to be wielded. She peeked between half-shut eyelids and saw her SLICE moving across the ground toward Taff’s CUT and Grace’s CHOP.

It’s working, Kara thought, a smile breaking across her face. It’s really working!

“Kara,” Grace said. “You can stop now.”

She opened her eyes.

A sizable gap had appeared along the bottom of their cages. With nothing to hold them in place the bars folded outward with ease.

“We did it,” Kara said. “That was a brilliant idea, Grace.”

The girls exchanged an unexpected smile before they remembered their history together and looked away.

“We have to hurry,” Taff said, nodding toward the Faceless. Their skin was completely regrown now, and they were all twitching like soon-to-burst chrysalides. There wasn’t enough room between the cages for the three children to slip out at the same time, so Kara had to wait for Taff and Grace to make their exit before crawling free. They crept past the Faceless, Grace leaning on Kara’s shoulder to avoid scratching the ground with her cane. Although an inviting paper horizon beckoned the escapees forward, Kara stopped at the place where the Faceless had tethered the creatures they used for transportation.

“What are you doing?” Grace asked. “We need to keep moving! We can find a boat by the river. Lose them.”

“We’ll never make it. And we can’t outrun them on foot.”

“And you can’t get these rustle-feet to do your bidding,” Grace said. “Not without wasting a side of the grimoire page.”

Kara smiled.

“I don’t need magic to get animals to like me.”

She crossed over to the first rustle-foot she saw. Its amber eyes, deep-set within folds of hooded skin, watched her with curiosity. The rustle-foot’s long body was segmented into five bulbous parts, allowing it to carry a like amount of riders, but its neck had been tethered to a hook so tightly that it could barely lift its head off the ground. Kara stroked behind its leathery ears and unhooked the rope fastened around its neck. The creature, more surprised than anything, made a sound like a baby’s rattle.

“Good morning, beautiful one,” Kara whispered in the rustle-foot’s ear. “My name is Kara. I wish I had more of a chance to introduce myself, but time grows short. We’d like a ride. Do you think that would be all right with you?”

The rustle-foot rose to its full height and shimmied back and forth. It repeated the rattling sound, louder this time.

“I like the way you talk,” Kara whispered. “May I have the honor of giving you a name? How about . . . Rattle?”

Kara’s voice calmed the creature. She held her hand to its nose and it sniffed her open palm greedily.

“Why aren’t we leaving?” Taff asked.

“She’s afraid that if she helps us she’s going to get punished. I need a moment to convince her otherwise.”

One of the Faceless rose to its feet and looked in their direction. It placed a hand on the masked creatures to its right and left. Both stood. Their neck-arms began to rotate.

“Stop messing around, Kara!” Grace said. “Just tell the giant caterpillar we need to move or we’re all going to get punished.”

“Set the other creatures free,” Kara said. “We need a distraction.”

Grace crossed her arms. “I am not touching those things.”

“I always knew you were bad,” said Taff, “but I didn’t realize you were such a girl.”

He set to untethering the rest of the beasts, and Grace, with a grunt of exasperation, began to help. Kara continued to rub Rattle’s flank. Paper rope had been coiled so thickly around its torso that it was difficult to make out the other legs pinned to its sides, but the pain in the rustle-foot’s eyes was crystal clear. “Look what they’ve done to you,” Kara said. “You poor, marvelous creature. No wonder you’re afraid. But you don’t need to trust me. I know that’s too much to ask. Trust yourself. They can’t punish you if they can’t catch you.” Kara placed her hands on Rattle’s face and gazed directly into its eyes. “I just want to go along for the ride.”

The rustle-foot rattled faster than ever and lay flat on its belly, allowing Kara to mount it. Grace quickly did the same, wrapping her arms around Kara’s stomach, with Taff taking the rear.

They took off.

As the parchment landscape began to blur past them, Kara risked a glance over her shoulder. The Faceless camp was in complete disarray. Four of the monsters were chasing the errant rustle-feet, trying to grab on to their whipping tethers with little success, while the fifth Faceless stood in place and watched Kara depart. Its long arms were folded behind its back in an unsettling show of calmness, but its neck-arms rotated to fashion a new mask over its face: oval-shaped with a gaping black hole at its center.

The Faceless screamed, a thunderous roar that shook the ground and echoed throughout the Well. Rattle stumbled, and Kara, who had thrown her hands over her ears, would have fallen had Grace not straightened her.

“What was that?” Kara asked.

“What do you think? It just called for help. We need to hide.”

Where? Kara thought, scanning the horizon. She saw nothing but flat emptiness. When she turned to her right, however, she saw hazy outlines in the distance. She thought, at first, that these were Pages, or hills, or maybe just large boulders, but as Kara’s eyes focused she realized she was mistaken.

They were buildings.

Back when this was Phadeen that must have been some sort of town, a place where students could purchase food and new clothes and magical ingredients for their spells. Kara’s face brightened. There will be pantries there. Cellars. Storehouses.

Places to hide.

Leaning forward, she put her arms around Rattle’s neck and turned it toward the buildings, whispering, “Faster! Faster!” into its ear. The creature grunted in pain as it struggled to follow her command. If only it could use all its legs, Kara thought. She tried to unknot the bindings around its torso without any luck. The material looked like paper but was as strong as sailors’ rope.

Grace, seeing the approaching town, gripped Kara tightly and exclaimed, “No! We can’t go there! That’s where they—”

Swish-swish-swish.

A large group of mounted Faceless was approaching on Kara’s left. Almost all of them wore forest-green masks with black spirals painted on the foreheads. The sole exception was a Faceless much larger than the others, its face covered by a gleaming red mask. This was, apparently, the only mask it needed; the six other ones had been torn from its neck-arms and impaled on the giant antlers sprouting from its head.

Kara spurred Rattle onward. The swishing sound of the other rustle-feet remained just behind them, with Redmask—as Kara decided to call the antlered Faceless—at the head of the procession.

They quickly halved the distance to the buildings, allowing Kara to make out some details. The ancient structures were composed entirely of yellowing parchment, except for the occasional stone column or glass window that had somehow escaped the transformative powers of the Well. It won’t be possible to hide anymore, at least not right away, but maybe we can lose them in the streets somehow. . . .

Grace screamed.

Redmask had managed to drive its rustle-foot next to them, reach across the gap between the mounts, and grab Grace’s arm. Taff pounded the five jointed scrolls of its hand and tried to pry them off, but they were as strong as iron. Kara felt Grace start to slide away. In just a few seconds Redmask would pull her off altogether.

“Kara! Do something!”

Half rising from her seat, Kara twisted toward their assailant, hooked her fingers through the eyeholes of its red mask, and snapped her wrist back hard. The mask flew off. Kara caught a glimpse of maggot white before the Faceless covered its real face in shame and stopped chasing them entirely.

“Took you long enough,” Grace murmured.

“You’re welcome.”

Kara turned her attention back toward the rapidly approaching town and gasped in surprise.

There were Faceless everywhere. They filled the streets and stood in open doorways. A few held long spears with curved blades at the ends.

“I don’t understand,” Kara said. “Why are they all here?”

“They live here,” Grace said. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. Not that you listened.”

A phalanx of Faceless marched out and encircled them. Rattle weaved back and forth, awaiting further orders, but Kara saw no point in trying to escape. Their enemies were too many, and the poor rustle-foot would only get hurt. Kara slid to the ground, Grace and Taff right behind her.

The crowd parted and Redmask stepped into the circle. Its body tensed with fury as it grabbed a spear from the nearest Faceless and walked toward Kara.

“It was her idea to run!” exclaimed Grace. “I tried to stop them. . . .”

Kara gritted her teeth, expecting Redmask to raise its spear and strike her down. It walked right past her. She felt a rush of relief, but this was short-lived once she turned and saw Redmask’s true target. “Don’t!” she screamed, but the spear was already whipping through the air. Rattle wailed in pain and slumped to the ground. The Faceless hit it again. Again. Again. Kara was thankful to see that Redmask had not attacked the rustle-foot with the sharp end of the spear, but the wounds were still grievous. The paper strips bound about its torso darkened with blood.

Kara dodged two guards and ran to Rattle’s side.

“I’m sorry,” she said, placing a hand behind its leathery ears. “I never meant for you to get hurt.”

The rustle-foot rattled softly and nuzzled her hand.

Redmask pulled Kara away and tossed her to the ground. Though its expression was hidden beneath the mask, Kara was certain it was smiling. She felt a dark, murderous rage bubbling up inside of her.

“You shouldn’t have hurt her,” Kara said.

Redmask mounted Rattle, causing another wail of pain. One of its back legs dragged unnaturally as the rustle-foot struggled forward, spurred onward with merciless whips of the spear. Kara herself was pulled away by two Faceless and slung, like a sack of grain, over the back of a different rustle-foot, this one smelling like a moldy stump. Her wrists and ankles were bound. Kara felt a tugging at the back of her cloak and then a sudden weight. She was unable to see it, her face buried in bristly fur, but she knew what it was.

They just attached a ring and the paper strips.

Taff and Grace were soon hung upside down beside her. The rustle-foot started to move.

“Where are they taking us?” Kara asked.

Grace’s face was even paler than usual.

“The Changing Place. They’re going to make us like them. And there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”