And then it came to him. He opened his eyes. Hansford was looking steadily at Jack, concentrating, and Jack could feel the power that was being brought to bear. Go to the station house, everything will be all right, the insistent voice said.

The men were wizards.

Jack took a deep breath, fighting back panic. Above all, he knew he must not reveal what he knew about the deadly game being played. His only advantage was the fact that they thought he was just an untrained high school boy.

It must be the Red Rose. His gaze slid to Penworthy. A whole school full of Penworthys wouldn't be enough to stop them. He needed help.

Jack stood up. “I think I'm going to be sick,” he announced, clutching at his midsection. And it wasn't far from the truth. “I need to go. I'll be back in a minute.”

The wizards stirred unhappily. “Why don't we just get going, Jack?” Hansford suggested. “You'll feel better as soon as you're out in the fresh air.”

“I'm serious,” Jack replied, his voice rising. “I'm going to barf.”

Penworthy leaped to his feet. His office was carpeted in pale peach. “The restroom is just two doors down. You two can go with him if you like.”

Reluctantly, Hansford and Sowicky followed Jack into the outer office. Will was sitting in a chair by the door and looked up when Jack emerged from Penworthy's office accompanied by the two “detectives.” Will was about to say something, but at that moment Jack caught his foot around the leg of a chair and fell practically into Will's lap. With his mouth next to Will's ear, Jack whispered, “Will, I'm in trouble. Find Hastings, quick. Tell him.” Hansford and Sowicky each grabbed an arm and lifted Jack to his feet and out the door.

Will sat for a moment, dumfounded. Hastings? What did he have to do with anything? But he got to his feet quickly, recalling the desperation in Jack's face. “Where's Mr. Hastings?” he demanded of Miss Prentiss, the secretary, who was staring avidly after Jack and his escort. “Well, I'm sure I don't know,” she replied. “I know he's in the building, but it's exam week, so everyone's schedule is a little—”

Will put up a hand to stop the flow of words. “Look, it's important. I've got to find him right away.”

Penworthy appeared in the doorway of his office, nervously straightening his tie. “Mr. Childers, I don't like the tone you're taking. When we see Mr. Hastings, we'll let him know you're looking for him.”

Will turned and glared at the principal, reached out and put a hand on Penworthy's shoulder. Given the difference in their sizes, the gesture was eminently threatening. “I'm not playing around, Mr. Penworthy. If you know where he is, you need to tell me, or … or everyone's going to be sorry.” Both the secretary and the principal stared at Will, who never raised his voice to anyone.

Penworthy took a step back, swallowed, and seemed to shrink even further. “I don't know where he is. He might be helping with some of the exams.The intercom's still broken, so you'll have to look for him.”

“Who were those men and where were they going with Jack?” Will demanded.

“They're police officers. They're taking him to the restroom. He's not feeling well.”

“If you see Mr. Hastings, tell him Jack Swift needs his help.” Will spun on his heel and charged out of the office.

It seemed like a hopeless task. The building was huge, and Hastings could be in any of a hundred classrooms. Because the classroom doors lacked windows, that meant opening a hundred doors. He went down the hallway at a trot, throwing open doors, startling proctors and test takers, asking everyone he saw if they knew Hastings's whereabouts. Finally, he rounded a corner and practically ran into Fitch.

“Whoa, watch it, Will. If you run over someone, there could be casualties.” Fitch stopped laughing when he saw Will's face.

Will explained the situation in a rush. Time was passing, and he was getting nowhere.

“Look,” he said to Fitch. “You keep looking for Hastings. I'm going to call Linda. She gave me her cell phone number.”

He sprinted to the bank of phones outside the cafeteria and dialed. She answered almost immediately. From the background noise, it sounded like she was in her car.

“Ms. Downey, this is Will. Jack's in some kind of trouble. He sent me to look for Mr. Hastings, but I can't find him.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Linda's voice snapped over the phone. “Where's Jack now?”

“The last I saw, he was leaving the principal's office with two men.”

“Will, listen to me. We'll be there as soon as we can. Find Hastings.” And she clicked off.

Jack's two captors kept a tight grip on him. Their hands burned his skin through his shirt. He thought they might try to force him outside right then and there, but the hallway was crowded with students, and Jack doubled over, complaining loudly about feeling sick. Somebody—Jack didn't know who—called after him. Jack didn't look back. The two wizards headed for the restroom, apparently taking Jack at his word.

Hansford was still playing his mind games. You feel fine, Jack, the voice inside his head said. Just cooperate, and everything will be all right. Once in the restroom, Jack locked himself in a stall and made a great noise of retching. He had no idea what Will would do with his message. What if he couldn't find Hastings? Jack had made up his mind he wasn't going anywhere with Hansford and Sowicky. It just didn't seem that there was any future in it.

The wizards were growing impatient. “Come on,” Sowicky said, pounding on the cubicle door. “Let's not prolong this.”

“Give me a minute,” Jack said through the door. “I don't want to puke in your car.”

“We don't care, Jack,” Hansford said. “It's time to go. Your parents will be wondering where you are.”

“Listen,” Jack said weakly. “Maybe I could come down with my parents a little later. After my exam. They'll want to call their lawyer anyway.”

“You won't need a lawyer,” Sowicky said bluntly, then added hastily, “because this is very informal. Now come out now, or we're coming in after you.”

Jack considered his options. A restroom stall door wouldn't keep the two wizards at bay for long. He debated trying one of the attack charms Nick had taught him. Only, he knew he wasn't terribly powerful in wizardry, and he had no idea what he was up against. He decided it might be better to continue to play dumb until they got outside, then try to take them by surprise where there was less risk to other people and a better chance of escape.

He flushed and unlocked the door. But as soon as he stepped through the doorway, Sowicky slammed a hand against his throat, pinning him against the frame of the stall, cutting off his air supply and effectively silencing him. He heard Hansford speak a charm, and it was as if hot metal had been flushed through his veins. All his limbs were suddenly too heavy to lift. An immobilization charm, if he read it right. Too late.

And then Sowicky jerked him away from the wall and slammed him facedown on the floor; somebody's knee was in his back, and one arm was being twisted back painfully behind him until he thought his shoulder would give way. Then the other arm, and something was being clamped over his wrists, binding them tightly together.

Time moved slowly now, and all of his senses were on full alert. The familiar school restroom stench was in his nose, the ceramic cold against his bruised face. There was dirt in the grout between the gray and burgundy tiles on the floor, Trinity High School colors. He had a split second to wonder if that would be the last thing he would ever see, if they would kill him then and there. Then he realized that they probably wouldn't bind his hands if they meant to kill him.

“Playtime's over, Jack,” someone hissed. It was Hansford. The nice one. They rolled him over so he was lying uncomfortably on his bound arms, looking up into their faces, one on either side. Sowicky slid Jack's T-shirt and vest up to expose his chest.

Hansford fished a silver cone from the neckline of his sweatshirt, similar to the one Dr. Longbranch used, only smaller. He placed it against Jack's skin, held it there a moment, nodded briskly to his partner, and then replaced it under his shirt. Jack tried desperately to roll away, but didn't even manage a twitch.

“Listen close,” Sowicky said. “We're taking you out of here alive, since you're worth a fortune as you are, and nothing to us dead. Come with us quietly, and no one gets hurt. But we'll kill anyone who gets in our way. I want you to think about that before you make a scene on our way out.”

Just then Jack heard the restroom door open. He looked up to see Leesha Middleton framed in the doorway.

He wanted to cry out, to warn her to get away.

Then he wondered what she was doing in the men's room.

But she shut the door behind her and came toward them, knelt next to him on the tile floor. She smiled and ruffled his hair in a proprietary manner. “So you got him,” she said.

Jack opened and closed his mouth like a landed bass.

“I thought you said he was untrained,” Hansford said. “We couldn't detect any leaking magic at all. We had to take your word for it.”

“Which should be good enough for you.” Leesha slid her fingertips under Jack's shirt, peeling it away from the vest. “What have we here?” She fingered the vest. “Untold secrets? You think you know a person.”

Jack was thinking pretty much the same thing.

Leesha sat down on the floor next to him and cradled his head in her lap, gently stroking his cheek. “You're not as pretty as when I last saw you. Looks like my boyfriend beat you up. Serves you right for ditching my party.” She sighed theatrically. “Oh, Jack, what a fool I've been.”

Me, too. “Who are you?” Jack whispered. He wished he could squirm, even a little, to relieve the stress on his arms. ”Who do you work for?" Each question was worth a little more time.