“Or if someone shined a secondary light in her path,” Tiergan added, “her consciousness would’ve divided without her realizing. Part of her would’ve followed one beam—the rest, the other. And she wouldn’t have had enough of herself left in either place.”

Linh curled her arms around herself. “That’s really scary.”

“It is,” Mr. Forkle agreed. “Safety is an illusion. It exists only when we, as a society, agree to enforce it. But theoretically, any situation could turn violent if someone decided to treat it that way. During my time with humans, I witnessed many horrors that were the result of one individual—or a small group—choosing to violate the trust we all put in each other. The time is coming when we as a species will have to decide if we’re going to stray down the same dark path. But I think I’ve gotten off track. My point is that, yes, sadly, murder by light leap—and many other unimaginable means—is possible.”

“Okay, but . . . the streets in Mysterium are always crammed with people,” Dex reminded them. “Wouldn’t someone have noticed something weird going on when Cyrah leaped?”

“People rarely notice things they don’t expect to see,” Tiergan told him. “They’re too distracted by their own perception of reality.”

“Did anyone see her final leap happen?” Sophie asked.

“Not that I could find,” Mr. Forkle said.

“So then she could’ve wandered to a more isolated place before she leaped away,” Sophie pointed out. “Maybe she had a secret meeting in the area where the Council stores my human family’s old things. It seemed pretty deserted when Councillor Terik took me.”

“Or she wasn’t in Mysterium at all,” Fitz added. “We all know registry feeds can be altered. Did anyone actually see her there?”

“They did,” Mr. Forkle said. “Several people saw her sorting stock in her stall.”

“This list at the end here,” Dex jumped in. “Is that the people who saw her?”

“Yes,” Mr. Forkle said. “Why?”

“Marella’s mom is on it.” He pointed to the name Caprise Redek, glowing among a dozen other names.

“Caprise was one of my more memorable interviews,” Mr. Forkle said quietly. “She seemed to be struggling quite a bit that day.”

Marella’s mother had suffered a traumatic brain injury a few years earlier, and despite Elwin’s best efforts, she’d battled unstable emotions ever since. She took elixirs to manage the condition, but sometimes they weren’t enough.

“What did she say?” Sophie asked.

“Mostly she kept mumbling that Cyrah should’ve been more careful. I assumed she meant careful during leaping.”

That did make sense, but . . .

“Now that we know her death might not have been an accident, do you think she could’ve meant something else?” Sophie asked.

“If it were anyone other than Caprise Redek, I might be ready to wander down that path,” Tiergan told her. “But I’ve seen Caprise on her bad days. It’s not her fault—and she tries her best. But reason and rationality abandon her. And when you consider that she would’ve been saying these things after hearing the devastating news about Cyrah, I think it needs to be taken with an especially potent grain of salt.”

“I still wonder if Cyrah went somewhere after Mysterium and her feed was altered,” Fitz mumbled. “It just seems too random that she went to count hair ribbons and ended up dead.”

“But who would’ve altered the feed?” Tiergan asked. “We know it wasn’t us. And Cyrah was a Flasher, not a Technopath. And if the Neverseen were involved with her death, why would they need to interrogate Wylie?”

“Maybe she was working on something important for them, and they were hoping she might’ve shared certain key information with him before she died,” Tam suggested.

“But then why go after him now?” Dex asked. “Why not interrogate him right after it happened?”

“They might not have wanted anyone to know that Cyrah’s death wasn’t an accident,” Linh said.

“Or, it could have something to do with whatever they’re planning through the Lodestar Initiative,” Biana mumbled.

“We can debate theories all day,” Mr. Forkle told them, “But it won’t bring us any closer to the truth.”

“So what’s your plan?” Sophie asked.

“I . . . have no idea.” He sounded more tired than Sophie had ever heard.

“Gethen might know something about all of this, right?” Fitz asked.

“That’s true!” Sophie realized. “And after Wylie’s attack, I’m sure the Council is going to be very motivated to find out what happened, so—”

“We’re not going to tell the Council about this,” Mr. Forkle interrupted. “They do not make wise decisions when they’re frightened. And learning that one of their citizens was captured and brutalized—from one of our world’s most secure buildings—will send them into a frenzy. The last time that happened, they declared us their number one enemy, instead of focusing on the Neverseen. And let’s not forget about the ability-restricting circlet they ordered Miss Foster to wear.”

Dex winced. The circlet had been his invention—but he’d never thought the Council would use it on Sophie.

“Working against the Council hasn’t gone well for us either,” Sophie reminded him. “And if Gethen—”

“Gethen is not the grand solution you believe him to be!” Mr. Forkle snapped. He turned away, tearing his hands through his grayed hair. “I know you want to believe—”

“You said he was a priority,” Sophie interrupted.

“I did. But circumstances have changed. Now our priority must be protecting Wylie—and that includes sparing him the stress of becoming a public spectacle. Surely you remember what it felt like to be The Girl Who Was Taken. Would you wish that on him? After everything he’s been through?”

“I’m sure the Council would keep this quiet if we asked,” Biana said quietly.

“All we can be sure of, Miss Vacker, is that we can’t be sure of how the Council will respond. So we must err on the side of caution. We must regroup and strategize. And we must wait to act until we have a plan that is in Wylie’s best interest.”