Lodestar Page 53

“We’re getting so close,” Biana said after Sophie passed along the message. “We might as well finish.”

And they did. And Dex scowled at the final scroll. “I don’t know who their Technopath is—but they’re good. I can’t figure out the point of these numbers.”

Any chance you’re just saying that for the benefit of the Imparter? Fitz asked him.

I wish. This is the code I found hidden in Alvar’s records from the days we were kidnapped. He scribbled on the back of the nearest scroll:

0-11-<<-1-1-1-0*

Sophie studied it from a few angles. Okay, yeah, that doesn’t make any sense.

It really doesn’t, Dex agreed. The most basic digital code—the kind that’s so basic, even humans use it—is made of ones and zeroes. But I have no idea what those other symbols are supposed to mean, or how they work.

Well . . . I’m guessing the asterisk is for Lodestar, right? Fitz asked.

Maybe. But some of the normal registry codes use asterisks too. Plus, the asterisk switches sides sometimes on the other codes I found hidden in Alvar’s records. Like this, which I’m pretty sure is from the day Sophie saw The Boy Who Disappeared.

*0-1->-1->-111-0

And I found these during the days that Alden’s mind was broken:

*0->-111->>>-1-0

0-<<-1-1-11-<-0*

I’m assuming the sequences are different because each one stands for a different place Alvar went, Dex said. But no matter how long I stare at it, I still don’t understand how to read the numbers and symbols and AARRGGGRRHHH!

He made the same noise out loud and collapsed backward onto his sleeping bag.

Biana flopped back too, and Sophie and Fitz did the same.

It’s still progress, Sophie transmitted. Remember, this is how it always goes. It’s always piece by piece, and it feels like we’re never going to figure it out—and then we find another clue and it all comes together.

I just wish we could skip to the it-all-comes-together part, don’t you? Fitz asked as he yawned.

Biana yawned too. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m exhausted. So I propose a truce. No one pranks anyone, and we all get to sleep. Is that proof that I’m becoming lame?”

“It’s proof that we have a lot going on,” Fitz told her. “And we’ll handle it better if our brains are actually working in the morning. So how about this—if anyone breaks the pact, we make them brush their teeth with reekrod.”

“Deal,” Dex said. “I’d rather save my prank elixirs for the triplets anyway.”

“I’m in,” Sophie agreed.

Biana called Iggy to her pillow, and within seconds his squeaky purr filled the room. Dex’s soft snores followed, and everyone seemed to still.

Are you trying to reach out to Keefe? Fitz transmitted, nearly making Sophie yelp. Sorry—didn’t mean to startle you.

It’s fine. And . . . I think I’m going to skip tonight’s check-in.

Because you’re afraid of putting him in danger? Or because you’re afraid he’s doing something you don’t want to know about?

Both, she admitted, hugging Ella tighter.

I wish I knew what to say to help.

I don’t think those words exist.

What Keefe was doing was a complicated, impossible mess.

If it makes you feel any better, Fitz told her, I’m keeping my Imparter right by my head. That way, if my parents hail me I’ll be sure to hear it.

You’ll wake me up if they do?

You really think you’re going to be able to sleep?

No idea.

Well, you can borrow Mr. Snuggles if you want.

Sophie smiled. Nah, I couldn’t bear to keep you two apart. But thanks.

Anytime.

His mind went quiet, and Sophie figured he’d dozed off with the others. But right as her mind started to drift, he added, I’ll always be here if you need me.

THIRTY


SOFT CONVERSATION FLOATED through Sophie’s mind, the words blurring with her dreams—until one question caught her attention.

Aren’t they cute?

The voices sharpened into focus and she realized there were a lot of sappy adults watching her sleep. But she was too relieved to be annoyed about it.

“Mom?” she asked, scooting out of her sleeping bag and waiting for her eyes to focus. “Dad?”

“We’re here,” Edaline said as both her parents smothered her with a hug.

“Sorry we woke you, kiddo,” Grady said. “Juline told us you guys were up half the night, after a pretty eventful day. You must be exhausted.”

She was. Somehow getting only a little sleep always felt worse than getting no sleep—but she didn’t care about that right now. “You guys are safe?”

“For now,” Edaline said, squeezing her tighter. “And don’t worry, we’ll be back on house arrest this afternoon. I just needed to talk with my sister in person. She’s been filling me in on . . . everything.”

Sophie followed Edaline’s gaze to a fidgety Juline—who stood with Wraith, Blur, and Mr. Forkle, clearly making no attempt to hide her involvement with the Collective.

Alden and Della were there too—and Sandor and Brielle and Cadoc and Woltzer and Grizel and Lovise and Kesler. Everyone except Granite and the triplets.

“Wow,” Biana mumbled from her sleeping bag. “That’s a lot of faces to wake up to.”

“It is,” Della said, blinking in and out of sight as she crossed the room to hug her daughter. “Did you forget to pack pajamas?”

Biana looked down and blushed when she saw she was still in yesterday’s clothes. “No, we forgot to get changed. Ugh, and I forgot to brush my teeth.”

She covered her mouth, trying to spare the world from her morning breath.

“So what happened yesterday?” Sophie asked. “Did the Neverseen really not show up?”

“Not at Havenfield,” Grady said. “We spent the whole day jumping at shadows—unlike you guys. Why am I not surprised that you had a way more productive day than we did?”

Are we still supposed to be quiet around the listening device? Fitz transmitted as he sat up and stretched.

Mr. Forkle held up a thin black box. “Mr. Sencen’s Imparter is in here for the moment. Our Technopath put a small speaker inside to broadcast the sound of normal conversation until she can take a closer look and check for anything Mr. Dizznee could’ve missed.”

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