Spoiler alert: Apparently, alicorn vomit was just as sparkly as their poop.

Silveny’s maternal instincts also seemed to be kicking in, and she kept making Sophie promise that she’d call for her if she ever found herself in danger. It was nice to know that Silveny cared—but Sophie would never do anything to risk the safety of the baby alicorn, no matter how many times Silveny assured her she wasn’t as fragile as Sophie feared.

The rest of the time, Sophie spent trying to learn whatever she could about Alabestrine—but she didn’t find much in the library of Grady’s office. The only slightly interesting detail was that Alabestrine was isolated from other stars, so its white glow was considered “pure” because no other light ever touched it.

But lots of stars were “pure.” And pure light didn’t seem to do anything special—though reading up on it did remind Sophie that there was a mirror called the Lodestar. The Silver Tower for the elite levels had a round room called the Hall of Illumination, lined with mirrors that were unique—each meant to teach the prodigies a different lesson about themselves.

The Lodestar mirror reflected pure light, and Sophie kept thinking that had to mean something. But . . . the mirror was centuries old.

She’d still asked Mr. Forkle about it, and he’d reminded her that the Neverseen didn’t invent the word “lodestar.” It still seemed like a strange coincidence, though.

“So what have you been up to?” Sophie asked Dex. “I tried hailing you a bunch of times but you didn’t answer.”

Dex patted his cape pockets and frowned. “I must’ve left my Imparter at Slurps and Burps. But I’ve had it with me every day and it never gave me any alerts. I’ve been trying to help my dad keep up with all the orders at the store. Everybody’s been stocking up on medicines. I think people are worried that the next time the Neverseen attack, someone’s going to get hurt.”

Sophie was worried about that too—and even more worried that Keefe would somehow be involved.

“What about your other project?” she asked, keeping her voice low—though no one seemed to be paying them any attention. “The one the Black Swan told you to keep secret?”

Dex’s ears turned red. “You know about that?”

“Blur mentioned it. And don’t worry, I’m not mad. I know how hard it is to have a secret assignment from the Black Swan. But now it’s my turn to be the one saying: I want to help.”

“So do I,” Biana said, appearing in the space between them.

As a Vanisher, Biana had a special gift for sneaking up on people. It made her goblin bodyguard Woltzer’s job a million times harder.

Sophie could see him now, using his skinny-for-a-goblin arms to shove his way over from the opposite end of the crowd. As soon as he made it, Sandor launched into an epic lecture about keeping track of his charge.

Biana gave Woltzer an apologetic smile before turning back to Sophie and Dex and leaning in to whisper. “Whatever you’re planning, count me in—and don’t even think about visiting any more secret hideouts without me.”

Dex straightened. “What is she talking about?”

“I don’t think—”

“Sophie went with Fitz, Tam, and Linh to the abandoned hideout where Mr. Forkle rescued you guys,” Biana interrupted, not letting Sophie change the subject.

The color drained from Dex’s face

“Please don’t be mad,” Sophie begged. “It was just a weird, long day where one thing kept leading to the next.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Biana told him, “they left me out too. Maybe we should start our own group. Team Bianex!”

Dex sighed. “That’s . . . not the best name.”

“It isn’t,” Biana agreed. “What about Dizznacker? Or Vackiznee?”

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about,” Fitz said as he and Grizel joined their group. “But I vote for Dizznacker.”

“Traitors don’t get a vote,” Biana informed her brother.

“You’re still on that?” Fitz asked. “Seriously—aren’t you forgetting that you and Sophie snuck off with Calla and had a big showdown with the Neverseen’s Psionipath without the rest of us? How was that any different?”

“Because you guys went to the place where I was held prisoner without me.” Dex kept his voice low, but Sophie could see a few people glancing their way.

You’re right, she transmitted, making Dex jump. I made a selfish decision. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to see the hurt in your eyes as you walked those hallways, knowing that every flashback you had was my fault. But it wasn’t fair to leave you out. Please don’t hate me.

Dex bit his lip. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

Sophie nodded and transmitted a quick explanation about the Lodestar symbol, the note from Keefe’s mom, the shadow on the floor of the abandoned hideout, the rune for Alabestrine, and Keefe’s new plan to steal Fintan’s cache.

“I was going to tell you everything,” she promised. “That’s why I kept hailing you.”

“Stupid Imparter,” Dex grumbled. “I bet it has a loose wire.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” Sophie asked.

“Only if you promise that from now on, you’ll include me no matter what.”

“Hey, that works both ways,” Fitz whispered, glancing over his shoulder at the crowd, who’d thankfully gone back to ignoring them. “I want to know what you’ve learned from my brother’s records.”

“Me too,” Biana said. “And I want to help.”

“But you realize what I’m trying to do, right?” Dex asked. “The Black Swan are hoping I’ll find a way to track your brother’s movements and find him. And if that happens, best-case scenario is he gets sentenced to Exile. Or there could be way worse punishments.”

Fitz shrugged, his eyes like teal ice. “No one forced him to do what he’s doing.”

“That won’t make it any easier when it all goes down,” Dex said quietly. “I know you’re mad, but . . . he’s still your brother. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“If I start to feel sorry for Alvar, I’ll just think about how many times I’ve found my parents sobbing these last few weeks,” Biana mumbled. “That’s why they’re not here now. They weren’t up for all the stares and whispers—especially if the announcement has to do with the Neverseen.”