he gathered his things, stretched his stiff legs, and turned the doorknob.

The door was locked.

Oh no, thought Henry.

He tried the knob again, but it was no use. He’d been forgotten, and worse, locked in for the night.

“Hello!” Henry called, pounding on the door.

No answer.

For a good ten minutes, he pounded and yelled. But no one came.

And no one was going to come, he knew, so he better make himself comfortable for the night.

With a sigh, Henry pushed two of the squashy armchairs together into a makeshift bed and climbed in, covering himself with his coat. From that angle, the small study room looked spooky, with its dark walls cast in shadow. Henry closed his eyes, wondering what time the door would be unlocked the next morning, and if Adam and Rohan would wake up and realize he hadn’t been back to the room.

Henry woke to the sound of a muffled click, a soft creak, and then the rather louder sound of a maid shrieking.

Henry bolted upright.

It was Liza, from the kitchens, a thick ring of keys attached to her belt.

“Hello, Liza,” Henry said, stretching and running a hand through his sleep-rumpled hair. “Could you tell me what time it is?”

“Quarter past six,” she said. “Whatchoo doin’ sleepin’ in the library, Master Henry?”

“Got locked in,” Henry said, picking up his satchel.

“Not overnight?” she asked, horrified.

“Overnight,” Henry said. “So thank you for coming along to unlock the door.”

“I only come because Mary said she ’eard rattlin’ and howlin’ las’ night and the library was prob’ly haunted.”

“That was me,” Henry said, and then, with a sinking feeling, asked, “so what time is this door usually unlocked, then?”

“Jus’ before lunch,” Liza said.

“I have to wash up before chapel,” Henry said. “You can tell Mary the library isn’t haunted.”

And before his expression could betray him, he slipped out the door and back to the first-year corridor.

When Henry got back to his room, Adam was fastening his tie while Rohan looked on and tapped his foot impatiently.

“Where were you?” Adam asked.

“The library.”

“All night?” Rohan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I was locked in overnight,” Henry said miserably, changing into his spare uniform with no time to wash up.

Rohan shot Henry a tortured look.

“Chapel’s in five minutes, and you tell us this now?”

“Sorry,” Henry said. “Go on ahead. I’ll tell you about it at breakfast.”

Adam and Rohan exchanged a look.

“Go,” Henry said.

At breakfast, Rohan was horrified.

“We should have waited up for you,” he said. “We should have known something was wrong.”

“Well, we did think it was strange when you weren’t there in the morning,” Adam amended. “But you wake up so early sometimes, I figured you’d gone back to the library to finish your essay.”

“It’s fine, honestly,” Henry said.

It was touching that his friends were so concerned, but the worst that could have happened hadn’t—he hadn’t missed Lord Havelock’s class and lost his chance to hand in the new essay.

And anyway, Henry hadn’t mentioned his suspicion that he’d been locked in on purpose, thanks to one Fergus Valmont. It sounded silly, and besides, he didn’t want to put ideas into Adam’s head, since Adam was so prone to dramatics.

“Frankie’s upset with you, did I mention?” Adam said.

“Why?” Henry asked, gulping coffee.

“She had to memorize some awful poem in French last night and wanted you to correct her pronunciation.”

“I’ll tell her I’m sorry that I was too busy being locked inside the library overnight,” Henry muttered, and Rohan began to cough.

“You all right?” Adam asked.

Rohan shook his head.

Henry put down his coffee, and even Edmund looked up from his copy of the morning news.

Henry grabbed for the pitcher of water and hastily poured Rohan a glass, splashing water onto the tablecloth. Rohan gulped at the water, but his face had turned purple.

“Nuts,” he wheezed.

“Nuts?” Adam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rohan drew in a tortured breath and indicated the muffin he’d been eating. It looked like ordinary blueberry—the same thing Rohan always had for breakfast—but sure enough, it was dotted with finely chopped nuts.

“You’re allergic to nuts?” Henry asked.

Rohan nodded.

Henry shot Adam a look and they helped Rohan out of his seat.

“Want me to come?” Edmund asked.

“No, thanks,” Henry said. “We’re just taking him to the sick matron. But could you take my satchel to military history and give Lord Havelock my essay?”

“Of course,” Edmund said. “I’ll tell him what’s happened.”

Henry glanced at the High Table. Lord Havelock stared sourly down at them, watching as Henry and Adam dragged Rohan to see the sick matron.

“There’s never nuts in the blueberry muffins,” Henry