Mozag was still talking. “Many contributed in valuable ways, but I’ve pieced together all you did, Nate, and it merits extra recognition. Come stand beside me.”

“Get up there,” John Dart ordered.

Feeling self-conscious, Nate pushed his chair back and walked over to Mozag. The old magician shook his hand. “Nate not only destroyed Jonas White’s Source, making our revolt possible, but he also dismantled the most powerful simulacrum on the planet, which happened to be a simulacrum of the planet. We owe Nate our lives, and the world owes Nate for salvation from a long-buried threat.”

Everyone applauded.

Nate wasn’t sure how to react. He smiled and gave a little wave.

Mozag cleared his throat before continuing. He held up a gold medal with a black ribbon. The Battiato brothers gasped in unison. John Dart leaned forward with a small smile and a twinkle in his eyes. “In recognition of your extraordinary courage in protecting the world from the forces of magic, I induct you into the Order of the Unseen and offer you our highest commendation, the Medal of Valor.”

“Impossible,” Mr. Stott murmured.

Victor and Ziggy looked thunderstruck.

Mozag patted Nate on the arm. “The Medal of Valor can only be awarded after a unanimous vote by the Unseen Magi. It has been awarded a mere three other times in the past hundred years. The existence of Uweya has long troubled the Magi, and this medal is a token of their sincerest gratitude.” Mozag pinned it on Nate, muttering strange words as he did so. “In the magical community, you now have friends in very high places.”

As everyone clapped again, Nate returned to his seat, trying not to blush. His friends patted him on the back and crowded around to see his medal.

Mozag held up both hands. “With that bit of ceremony behind us, I would also like to mention that you’re all free to sleep well tonight and for many nights to come. Some of your loved ones will experience withdrawals from the cheese Jonas shared, but they will be back to their old ways before long. Jonas White and all of his major apprentices and assistants have been taken into custody. Thanks to Ziggy Battiato’s communication skills, I now have several of my other operatives in town. While they deal with unpleasant matters such as holding areas, trials, and sentencing, we get to feast! Dig in!”

Before long, Nate had too much syrup on his hands, so he got up to use the restroom. While he washed off the stickiness, he admired his medal in the mirror. On the way out, Mr. Stott was standing there.

“A word, Nate?” he asked.

“Sure,” Nate said, pausing as he wiped his damp palms against his shirt.

“I need to ask a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Keep an eye on Lindy for me over the coming days.”

“No problem.”

Mr. Stott looked a little uncomfortable. “Mozag has expressed some concerns. She reacted admirably when confronted with her true identity, but Mozag fears this may not be the kind of matter that can be resolved in a moment, and I tend to agree. Lindy will be dealing with that knowledge during the coming days, weeks, months, and even years. She’ll probably be coping with it to some degree for the rest of her life. I just want to make sure she gets the support she needs.”

“I’ll do everything I can,” Nate promised.

“Mozag shared one other unsettling tidbit,” Mr. Stott said, stroking his beard. “There is a third White sibling—Camilla, the youngest, and undoubtedly the wildest. He’s had her under surveillance. She recently left her lair in Brazil to visit a lair in Italy, and then went on to a lair in Portugal. Could mean nothing. But Mozag promised to pay special attention to Camilla and to keep me posted.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Nate said. “I’ll watch for anything suspicious.”

“I’ll keep you informed as I learn more,” Mr. Stott said. “I wish I could promise that your troubles are over forever, but I’ve been around a long time. Not as long as Mozag, but long enough to know that once you get involved in the magical community, it’s hard to break away completely.”

“I don’t want to break away,” Nate said.

“Nor do I,” Mr. Stott said, “which is probably part of the problem. You did well, Nate. You’re an outstanding young man. Keep your wits about you and you’ll go far. Shall we return to the feast?”

“Definitely.”

Nate soon got lost in the joyful atmosphere and the delicious food. In between chatting and joking, he managed to eat until he felt ready to burst. When the meal finally ended, full and happy, he reflected on the power of good food and good company to wash away trauma and injuries, and even wondered whether there might have been a touch of magic involved.