breathed a sigh of relief. The decision on their expulsion would have to wait another day. And perhaps in that time, Henry’s discovery of the combat training at Partisan would not only save the two of them from being expelled but save them all from being unprepared for war.

Still, waiting was never easy, and without schoolwork as a distraction, the next twenty-four hours promised to be excruciating.

When Henry and Adam returned to their room that evening, the window was open, and a small clothbound book sat on the windowsill.

The book, when Henry examined it, turned out to be a collection of poetry. And written in the inside cover was this message: I sat in a clearing two hours after sunset and waited to say good-bye.

Frankie.

Henry showed Adam the inscription. Adam, who had been in the middle of taking off his coat, shrugged back into it. “Let’s go,” he said.

And they did.

There was a layer of frost on the bench by the hedge maze, as though discouraging their clandestine meeting. The trees, which had been full of brilliantly hued leaves only weeks before were now picked-over bones, skeletons of their former glory.

In the faint moonlight, Henry shivered and drew his wrists deeper inside the sleeves of his jacket.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps crunching over the icy grass.

“Hello?” Frankie called.

“We’re here,” Adam called back.

She was just a shape in the distance, and then she was there, grinning at them from beneath a fur wrap, her blue eyes determined.

“Hullo,” Henry said.

And it shouldn’t have been uncomfortable, the three of them, but it was.

“We heard about the reformatory,” Adam said. “Bad luck.”

Frankie shrugged and smiled ruefully. “It’s not so bad. At least the girls there won’t giggle incessantly.”

But Henry could tell that Frankie was just as scared as they were about the reformatory.

“So, what was the verdict?” Frankie asked. “Are you expelled?”

Henry and Adam exchanged a look.

“Come on, tell me!” Frankie pleaded.

“Not exactly,” Henry said.

“Oh, well, that clears things up,” Frankie said with a snort.

“Sir Frederick’s evil!” Adam blurted.

“Nice one,” Henry muttered.

“Well, he is,” Adam insisted. “Frankie doesn’t know what happened. We can’t very well start at the end.”

“The end?” Frankie asked, arching an eyebrow and drawing her wrap tighter around her shoulders.

“Adam’s right,” Henry said. “Sir Frederick is the one who’s been sabotaging us and doing all of those things. Well, Lord Havelock helped, but it was mainly Sir Frederick.”

“Sir Frederick?” Frankie asked skeptically.

“Really,” Adam said. “He’d be headmaster if your father got fired. And he’s a maniac. Completely off his nut. He wants us to go to war with the Nordlands so the Nordlands can win.”

“What?” Frankie asked.

And so Henry explained. He told Frankie how Sir Frederick had spoken reverentially of the Nordlandic cause and Chancellor Mors. How Sir Frederick had asked them to help run a military hospital. How Sir Frederick believed in abolishing the aristocracy no matter that the alternative was worse, and how Sir Frederick had threatened them and nearly come to blows with Lord Havelock.

“I just can’t believe it,” Frankie said, shaking her head as though stunned.

“That’s not the best part,” Henry said wryly. “Sir Frederick didn’t show up to our hearing. So we told the board of trustees what I’d seen in the Nordlands, and they sent this one man, Viscount Something-or-other, to see for himself before they decided anything.”

“But if he does find evidence of combat training, then what?” Frankie asked.

“Dunno,” Adam said with a shrug. “But maybe we won’t be expelled. And they could rewrite the Longsword Treaty.”

“And rename it the Grim-Beckerman-Mehta-Winter Treaty,” Henry joked.

“Oi, how come your name’s first?” Adam complained.

“Francesca!” Grandmother Winter’s voice trilled, and all three friends groaned.

“No,” Frankie said angrily. “Let her find us here. I don’t care.”

“When are you leaving?” Henry asked.

“Day after tomorrow,” Frankie said, trying to sound brave.

“We could take the train into the City together,” Henry said with a sad little smile.

“And join the circus,” Adam joked. “Run away. Disappear into the backstreets and alleyways, travel with the freak show.”

“Maybe just you,” Frankie teased.

Henry laughed.

“Francesca Winter, you shall catch your death of cold!” Grandmother Winter shrilled, and in the distance, Henry could make out her silhouette marching angrily through the grass.

“You’d better go,” Henry said.

“I don’t know,” Frankie demurred, “catching my death of cold sounds like an awfully big adventure.”

“Please, no more adventures,” Henry said with a groan.

“Define ‘adventure,’ ” Adam said. “Because joining the circus, for example—”

“Do shut up, Adam,” Henry and Frankie said at the same moment.

And then, without really saying good-bye, Frankie ran off into