“How’d they take the announcement about Vegard?” Mychael asked.

“Exactly the way I expected them to. Started asking a bunch of questions that had nothing to do with the security of this island and the safety of our students, and everything to do with politics.”

“And they wanted to know where I was going,” Mychael said.

“And why. The less people who know about this mission, the better chance of success.”

“And survival,” I added.

“That, too. I didn’t take questions; just gave them all something to do. Any who have the strength and skill to take out a goblin black mage or a major-class demon and aren’t squeamish about doing it are now under Vegard’s command. The rest of them would just be in the way, so I ordered them home to pack a bag, same size as the students. They’ll be evacuated only after the last student is gone.”

“You’re Archmage Popularity right now.”

Justinius shrugged. “It’ll keep them off the streets and out of my hair.” He glanced at Carnades and lowered his voice. “Is he giving you any trouble?”

“He’s not an eager member of this team,” Mychael told him, “but he’s doing his job.”

Carnades’s job was to get us through the mirror to Regor—and safely back again. The last part was the carrot Justinius was dangling in front of the elf mage. If we all made it back safely, he wouldn’t be executed for his crimes, regardless of the result of his trial. The length of his prison term would be up to the Conclave or elven justice systems. Both were still arguing over who would get to try him first. But Justinius could, and did, offer Carnades a deal—if we lived, so would he. He might be behind bars for the rest of his life, but unless he had an “unfortunate accident” while in prison, at least he’d have a life.