“Speaking of Dex,” Biana said, pointing to where he lay twisted up in his sleeping bag. “Shouldn’t we wake him?”

“Be my guest,” Kesler told her. “And good luck. Waking Dex is like waking a hibernating bear. The only thing worse is waking the triplets, who are thankfully still conked out upstairs.”

Biana tried nudging Dex’s shoulder. And flicking his ear. And kicking his leg. Nothing worked—until she put Iggy on Dex’s pillow. One good Iggy burp in the face and Dex was sputtering and coughing and looking very disoriented.

“Hey,” Biana told him. “Thought you might not want to miss this.”

She pointed to the crowd of adults—who were trying very hard not to laugh.

“Thanks,” Dex told her, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “So . . . what’s the bad news?”

“What makes you think there’s bad news?” Juline asked.

“Please—there’s no way you’d all be here if you didn’t have something bad to tell us.”

The adults shared a look.

“Why don’t we wait until you’ve all had some breakfast?” Kesler suggested. “The Vackers brought over these amazing pastries. They’re like eating a sweet, buttery cloud.”

“Uh-uh,” Sophie said, ignoring the gurgle in her stomach. “Tell us what’s going on.”

Mr. Forkle opened his mouth, but his voice didn’t seem to cooperate.

“At the moment, we’re still piecing the details together,” Alden said quietly. “But . . . it appears the Neverseen did have a mission yesterday, like Keefe suspected—but the target wasn’t Grady and Edaline. It was—”

His voice caught and he turned away.

Sophie’s mind ran through worst-case scenarios, but none felt as shocking—or heartbreaking—as when Della told them, “The Neverseen attacked Wylie.”

THIRTY-ONE

WYLIE?” BIANA REPEATED. “Prentice’s son?”

Shadows darkened Mr. Forkle’s eyes as he nodded. “He suffered an extensive interrogation.”

Sophie rubbed her wrists as the ghosts of old wounds haunted her again. “Will he . . . ?”

“Physic is treating him as we speak,” Juline promised. “But he’ll need to remain sedated for several days.”

“Days,” Sophie repeated.

She’d only needed days of treatment when she’d almost died.

Red rimmed her vision and the knot in her chest begged to unravel as she sucked in deep breaths, trying to calm the rage bubbling under her skin.

“It’s okay,” Grady whispered, tightening his hug. “Don’t give them this power.”

Sophie gritted her teeth, using the anger to bind everything back together.

“Does Physic think Wylie will recover?” Fitz asked.

“She seemed pretty confident,” Blur said. “She thinks we caught the injuries early enough that he won’t have any scars—physically at least. Psychologically is anyone’s guess.”

“Granite’s with him now, searching his mind to piece together the details of what happened,” Mr. Forkle added. “Then we’ll decide how many memories to erase.”

Normally Sophie wasn’t a fan of altering people’s memories. But she could see how it might be for the best in this case.

“How’s Granite holding up?” Biana asked.

“No one can prepare for such evil to happen to their family,” Wraith told her.

“He’s barely said ten words since we found Wylie in a crumpled heap on the Stone House’s porch,” Blur added. “Wylie must’ve crawled for the door with the last of his strength, after whatever desperate measures he used to escape.”

“He still had bonds on his feet—and partial bonds on his wrists—and he reeked of sedatives,” Wraith finished sadly.

“Do you know where he escaped from?” Sophie asked.

Mr. Forkle cleared the thickness from his throat. “Unfortunately, no. At the moment, all we know is that he was taken from his room in the Silver Tower.”

“How?” Fitz asked. “Aren’t there goblins patrolling the campus?”

“Not as many as there should’ve been,” Mr. Forkle admitted. “We’re between terms, so most of the fleets have been reassigned to Lumenaria to prepare for the Peace Summit. And the one remaining patrol has been focusing its efforts on securing the newly arrived Exillium tents.”

“But even if they got past the patrol, how did they get into the tower?” Dex asked. “The security in the elite towers is supposed to be legendary. My technopathy mentor went on and on about how it was designed the same way they did the insane security at Lumenaria, with a team of anonymous Technopaths each building only one small piece. That way no one would know the full scope, or how all the levels of security actually fit together.”

“Truthfully?” Mr. Forkle said, “I have no idea how they got in. I’ve already accessed the security logs, and there were no unauthorized visitors. In fact, the records show that Wylie is the only prodigy who remained in the tower for the break—with no evidence that the files were altered. And since I’m sure you’re going to ask about the Lodestar mirror”—he paused to let everyone react to the name—“let me assure you that it was the first place I checked. Nothing in the Hall of Illumination had been disturbed. There was no trace of a fingerprint or a footprint. No way to remove the mirror from the wall and access behind it. The mirror is just a mirror, designed to teach the elite prodigies to see that the purest version of themselves comes from power, not appearance.”

“Could a Phaser have walked through the walls to get in?” Biana asked.

“The tower is impervious,” Blur said. “Trust me. I’ve tried.”

“Then they must have someone who has access to the tower who let them in,” Fitz said.

“That was my thought as well,” Mr. Forkle told him. “But as I said, all the logs show Wylie being alone. I also watched the prodigies quite closely during my time as the tower’s Beacon, and none of them ever did anything to suggest a connection to the Neverseen.”

“Neither did Alvar,” Della said quietly.

The name hung heavy in the air.