Biana was a Vanisher, like her mother, though she was still getting used to the ability. Only one of her legs reappeared, and she had to hop up and down to get the other to show up. She wore a sweatshirt three sizes too big and faded, baggy jeans.

“At least I get to wear my shoes,” she said, hitching up her pants to reveal purple flats with diamond-studded toes. “But why do we only have boy stuff?”

“Because I’m a boy,” Fitz reminded her. “Besides, this isn’t a fashion contest.”

“And if it was, I’d totally win. Right, Foster?” Keefe asked.

Sophie actually would’ve given the prize to Fitz—his blue scarf worked perfectly with his dark hair and teal eyes. And his fitted gray coat made him look taller, with broader shoulders and—

“Oh please.” Keefe shoved his way between them. “Fitz’s human clothes are a huge snoozefest. Check out what Dex and I found in Alvar’s closet!”

They both unzipped their hoodies, revealing Tshirts with logos underneath.

“I have no idea what this means, but it’s crazy awesome, right?” Keefe asked, pointing to the black and yellow oval on his shirt.

“It’s from Batman,” Sophie said—then regretted the words. Of course Keefe demanded she explain the awesomeness of the Dark Knight.

“I’m wearing this shirt forever, guys,” he decided. “Also, I want a Batmobile! Dex, can you make that happen?”

Sophie wouldn’t have been surprised if Dex actually could build one. As a Technopath, he worked miracles with technology. He’d made all kinds of cool gadgets for Sophie, including the lopsided ring she wore—a special panic switch that had saved her life during her fight with one of her kidnappers.

“What’s my shirt from?” Dex asked, pointing to the logo with interlocking yellow W’s.

Sophie didn’t have the heart to tell him it was the symbol for Wonder Woman.

“Why does Alvar have human stuff?” she asked. “I thought he worked with the ogres.”

“He does,” Fitz replied. “Or he did before you almost started a war with them.”

Fitz said the words in a light, teasing way, but the truth behind them weighed heavily on Sophie’s shoulders. They’d be in a lot less trouble if she hadn’t ignored the rules of telepathy and tried to read the ogre king’s mind. She’d known it was a dangerous risk, but she’d been desperate to know why the ogres had snuck into the Sanctuary and hidden one of their homing devices in Silveny’s tail. The rare female alicorn wasn’t just essential for the survival of her species, she was one of Sophie’s closest friends. If only Sophie had known that ogres’ minds could detect Telepaths—even genetically enhanced Telepaths like her. She hadn’t learned anything useful, and she’d nearly voided the elvin-ogre treaty and started a war.

“But that still doesn’t explain why Alvar has human stuff,” Sophie reminded Fitz. “Ogres hate humans even more than elves do.”

“They do,” Fitz agreed. “But these clothes are from years ago, back when Alvar used to go out looking for you.”

“He did?” Sophie asked. “I thought that was your job.”

Fitz was the one who’d found her on her class field trip about a year earlier and brought her to the Lost Cities.

It was the best thing that ever happened to her.

Also the hardest.

Fitz smiled sadly, probably remembering the same thing: the moment she’d had to say goodbye to her human family. He was the only one who really understood what she’d lost that day, and she couldn’t have gotten through it without him.

“I started searching for you when I was six,” he told her, “after Alvar started his elite levels and wasn’t able to sneak away from Foxfire anymore. But my dad searched for you for twelve years, remember? I couldn’t go on secret missions when I was a toddler.”

“What a slacker,” Keefe interrupted. “I totally could’ve pulled that off. But then again, I’m Batman, so”—he draped an arm over Sophie’s shoulders—“I could be your hero any day.”

Dex pretended to gag, while Biana stared at Keefe’s arm around Sophie.

“Aren’t we supposed to be leaving?” they both asked at the same time.

Sophie pulled away from Keefe as Alden called “Wait!” from the top of the stairs. His elegant cape swished as he rushed to catch them. “You can’t leave wearing your registry pendants.”

Sophie grasped the choker around her neck, hardly believing she’d overlooked that essential detail. The pendants were special tracking devices from the Council. She wondered what other important things she might be forgetting. . . .

Alden pulled out a pair of sharp black pliers and said, “Let’s start with Fitz.” He spoke with the same crisp accent as his children, but his voice sounded weak and wobbly.

Fitz flinched as Alden cut the thick cord and the crystal pendant clattered to the floor.

“Whoa. This just got real,” Keefe whispered.

“Yeah it did.” Fitz traced his fingers across his now-bare neck.

“Are you okay?” Alden asked Biana, who was clutching her pendant in a white-knuckled fist.

“I’m fine,” Biana whispered, lifting her long dark hair to expose her necklace.