But he didn’t.

He didn’t sleep much either.

FLORIDA WAS HOT and sticky. The Rolls didn’t have air-conditioning, so they kept the windows down and fanned themselves a lot. They drove past Tallahassee to a stretch of swamp near the Sopchoppy River, where Lucas had said Greta made her home.

Call turned onto the road that the GPS on Jasper’s phone told him to turn on, but he did it with great trepidation. It was unpaved and bumpy and entirely unsuited to an ancient, elegant car.

The road ran along the river, which was coffee colored and smooth. All around were cypress trees, hanging with moss. The roots stretched out into the water like fingers. A snake — Call thought it might be a copperhead — swam casually along through a cluster of lily pads, past something Call thought might be the nose of a gator.

The road was quickly turning to mud and the path was becoming a lot less clear.

“You’re sure this is the way?” Call asked.

“Maybe?” said Jasper. “The GPS seems to be asking us to turn again, but there isn’t a turn.”

The Rolls slowed, partly because Call had pressed on the brakes and partly because the mud was getting deeper. Call had the uncomfortable sensation that the car was sinking a little in the muck.

“We should get out,” Tamara said. “Now.”

“This car can’t get stuck here,” said Call. “Dad will kill me if I don’t bring back his car.”

“Do we even know where we are?” asked Gwenda.

“My phone knows,” said Jasper. “But maybe we better go on foot from here.”

They all piled out of the Rolls, feet sliding. As they stepped away from the car, it seemed to be sucked down a little more.

“Is that quicksand?” asked Tamara.

“Augh!” said Call, holding his head. “I thought quicksand was just in movies. Bad movies. I didn’t think it was real.”

“We can get it out with magic,” Gwenda reminded him. The tires had almost entirely disappeared. “Everyone, concentrate.”

Gwenda, Jasper, and Call all drew on air magic while Tamara drew on earth. Call focused on wind pushing up the car, on it forming an almost solid sheet getting between mud and metal. With a gross, sucking sound, the car bounced up out of the swamp, was pushed a few feet onto the remains of the dirt road, and then unceremoniously dropped as they withdrew their magic.

The clang and grind of metal as the Rolls hit the ground made Call wince. Would it still run? How many dents had they just made along the base?

There was no time to worry about that now.

“This way,” said Jasper, holding up his phone. They followed him along the trail beside the Sopchoppy River, listening to the buzz of insects, grunting frogs, and the constant trill of birds above them.

The wet heat was heavy on their backs, and mosquitoes blew in clouds, making their high-pitched keening noise. Call had the uncharitable thought that maybe Lucas had sent them on a fool’s errand. Maybe there was no Greta.

Jasper stopped. He shook his phone.

“What’s the matter?” asked Tamara.

He shook it again. “No signal.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Gwenda told him. “Now what? Are we close? Do you have any idea where we’re meant to be going?”

“Over there,” Jasper said, waving vaguely across the water, toward a copse of trees.

“Greta!” yelled Call, causing a few birds to take off from nearby branches. At least one of them was, alarmingly, a buzzard. “We’re sorry to bother you, but Lucas said you could maybe help us!”

There was no answer. Call felt defeated, as though he’d let them all down. Although really, it had been Jasper with the phone who’d messed things up. Call opened his mouth to point that out.

Don’t, said Aaron. There’s no time to blame one another. Besides, I bet he already feels bad.

Call frowned and looked over at Jasper, who was still waving around his phone. He looked fine. But Call supposed Aaron was right.

“We could swim across the river,” Jasper suggested.

“No way,” said Gwenda. “That water is full of alligators. I guarantee it.”

“We could fly across,” Call said. “See if we can see anything.”

Just then, there was a rippling in the surface of the river. They all stopped and stared.

They were standing at a bend. The water itself was a muddy gray-brown. Tall cypress trees lined the banks.

“Maybe it’s an alligator,” said Gwenda nervously. “Sometimes they climb up on the bank and eat people.”

“Why do you know so much about alligators?” Jasper demanded.

“Because I hate them!” she said. “They’re like dinosaurs with massive teeth and — what is that?”

The ripples in the water had become a whirlpool, swirling around the cypresses growing out of the river. Suddenly there was a loud sucking, crashing noise, like a volcano erupting inward. The trees began to sink into the water.

“It’s a sinkhole,” said Tamara. “I’ve seen videos of them. Back up!”

They all backed away, watching in amazement as the trees and the earth at the edge of the riverbank were dragged down into the opening sinkhole with a loud, sickening noise. The trees crunched and shattered, branches snapping off as they were dragged below the surface of the water. The surface of the water roiled, and out of it emerged something huge.

It was a giant made entirely of dirt and mud. Call’s mouth fell open as the creature rose above them, shedding flopping fish and huge worms. A stench rolled across the swamp like rotting garbage as the giant opened two massive mud-brown eyes.

“She’s trying to scare us off,” Tamara hissed as the others reeled back, gagging. “Lucas said she hates people.”

“It’s working,” Jasper said, wiping at his watering eyes. “I’m scared.”

“Go away, mages,” Greta said. Her voice rolled and boomed. More mud fell off and plopped into the swamp.

Call cleared his throat. “It’s nice to meet you,” he called. “The, ah, mud and worms are very cool, very, ah, powerful-looking.”

Greta reached out and snapped a tree in half.

“That’s gonna be your spine,” muttered Jasper.

Flattery won’t work, Aaron said. But I bet she’s not thrilled with the Assembly.

“Look,” Call said, “we’re sorry to bother you. But we don’t have a choice. We need your help.”

Greta blinked. Mud cascaded into the water. “Why would I want to help you?”

“We know the Magisterium abandoned you during the war,” said Call. “Left you to become Devoured and then cast you out.”

Greta nodded.

“There’s a Devoured of chaos out there,” said Call. “His name is Alex. The Magisterium is building him a huge golden tower, and in a few days we’re all going to be delivered to him so he can kill us.”

“That’s not true,” Tamara hissed, then paused. “Actually, I guess it’s technically true.”

“Why should I care?” said Greta, but she spoke more thoughtfully now. “What have mages ever done for me?”

“Two other Devoured are helping us,” said Gwenda. “Ravan of fire and Lucas of water.”