Alden hesitated only a second before he sliced through the silver band. Her pendant landed next to Fitz’s, followed by Keefe’s.

“Yours will be trickier to remove,” Alden reminded Dex and Sophie.

The Council added extra security measures after the Neverseen used their pendants to convince everyone Sophie and Dex had drowned instead of been kidnapped. Both of them even had trees in the Wanderling Woods—the elves’ equivalent of a graveyard—from the funerals their families had held.

Alden’s brow beaded with sweat as he pried at the thick metal until the cords broke free. “I’ll need to remove your nexuses, as well,” he said, pulling out a dime-size disk.

Sophie sighed.

Another very important detail she’d overlooked . . .

A nexus was a safety device meant to hold their bodies together during light leaps, but the force field it created could be tracked.

“I guess I didn’t plan this running-away thing very well, did I?” Sophie mumbled.

“It’s not the kind of thing one can plan for,” Alden reassured her. “And do not expect yourself to think of everything. You’re part of a team now. Everyone works together and helps.”

The words would’ve been a lot more comforting if her “team” hadn’t forgotten the same important things—though Fitz, Keefe, and Biana were already nexus-free. Their concentration strength had reached the required level. Dex was almost there too. The meter on his wide blue cuff had less than a quarter of the way to go.

When Alden pressed the tiny disk against it, the level surged to full.

“I’ve been tempted to do that myself,” Dex admitted as he slipped the nexus off his wrist. “But I didn’t want to cheat.”

“Wise choice,” Alden agreed. “Having the ability to do something does not mean it’s the safest course of action. It also does not give us permission to break the law.”

“It does when the law is stupid,” Keefe argued.

“I wish I could disagree. But look at where we are.” Alden gathered their fallen pendants and tucked them into his cape pockets along with Dex’s nexus. “There was a time when I believed in the infallibility of our world. But now . . . we must rely on our own moral compasses. Right here”—he pressed his hand to his heart—“we know what is necessary and true. You all must hold to that and let it guide you through what lies ahead. But I’ve let myself get sidetracked. Sophie, let’s take care of those nexuses.”

Thanks to Elwin, her overprotective physician, Sophie had to wear one on each wrist. He’d also locked her nexuses so they couldn’t unlatch, even though both of her meters were full. She’d faded several times during leaps—one of which had nearly killed her. But that was before the Black Swan had enhanced her concentration and healed her abilities.

Still, Sophie reached for the Fade Fuel she wore around her neck in case of emergencies. It hung next to her allergy remedy, both vials tucked safely under her T-shirt. She hadn’t needed either elixir in weeks, but she felt better having them. Especially as Alden produced a twisted silver key and unlocked each of her nexuses.

She stopped him as he examined her third black cuff. “That’s one of Dex’s inventions.”

“I call it the Sucker Punch,” Dex said proudly. “It releases a burst of air when you swing your arm, so you can punch way harder than normal.”

“Very clever,” Alden told him. “And a good thing for you to have. Though, Dex, I’m hoping you’ve learned the dangers of inventing new weapons.”

Dex’s shoulders drooped as he promised that he had. Dex had built the painful ability-restricting circlet that the Council had forced Sophie to wear, not realizing it would be her punishment for what had happened with the ogre king.

She nudged him with her elbow and smiled to remind him that she’d forgiven him. But he kept his eyes fixed on the floor.

“I think that takes care of everything,” Alden said. “Though you all must remember to look out for one another. Fitz and Biana, share your concentration with Dex when you’re leaping. And Keefe, I want you to help Sophie.”

“Oh, I will,” Keefe promised with a wink.

“We all will,” Fitz corrected.

“Hey, I can take care of myself,” Sophie argued. “I’m the one bringing us to Florence, remember?”

The blue leaping crystals all led to the same place in each Forbidden City, which would make it easier for someone to follow them. So they’d be teleporting to Italy, an ability only Sophie had—thanks to a surprise side effect of the way the Black Swan had altered her DNA.

“All of you can take care of yourselves,” Alden said, “but you are stronger when you work together. You must also have a leader to keep the team organized, so Fitz, since you’re the eldest, I’m putting you in charge.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Keefe argued, “he’s only older by a few months.”

“Uh, by ‘few,’ you mean eleven,” Fitz corrected.

Dex snorted. “Dude, you guys are old.”

He glanced smugly at Sophie, and she blushed, hating that she’d been thinking the same thing.

Well . . . she didn’t think Fitz and Keefe were old, but they were definitely older than her.

She’d guessed that Keefe was fourteen, which would make Fitz at least fifteen—but they could be even older than that. . . .