And didn’t some tiny, angry part of her already have an idea for what she needed to do?

Her eyes drifted to the balefire sconces, watching the blue flames flicker.

They were designed to be contained.

To burn forever, without needing any fuel.

But she wondered what would happen if someone set them free.

Would they fizzle out?

Or grow much, much stronger?

“What is my moonlark thinking?” Flori wondered as Sophie set down her scrolls and reached for the Archetype, tracing her fingers over the metal lock.

They’d already found the key. So if she brought this home, she could study it—memorize everything Gisela had been planning and come up with a strategy to fight back.

Or…

“I’m thinking like the Neverseen,” Sophie told her, glancing at Glimmer as she added, “and changing the game.”

This is for Kenric! she thought as she swung the Archetype at one of the balefire sconces.

And Mr. Forkle!

And Keefe!

And all of the scars and tears and nightmares and threats and fear and pain!

She’d been fighting the Neverseen’s fires since the moment she’d arrived in the Lost Cities.

Now it was time for them to burn.

She smashed the other sconce and held the pages of the Archetype in the shower of blue sparks until they caught fire—then flung the burning book into the pile of black cloaks.

“Whoa,” Glimmer breathed as the fabric erupted with blue flames. “I did not see that coming. But that’s what I’m talking about.”

“Time to go,” Tam said as Sophie grabbed the scrolls she’ddropped.

And he was right.

The smoke was already burning her throat and eyes.

But she had to take one last look at the burning storehouse, wondering if she was going to regret losing all of that intel and evidence.

Let it burn, she told herself. Let the Neverseen see how it feels to scramble.

All their plans.

All their soporidine.

She was destroying everything.

And it felt good.

“Seriously, come on,” Sandor said, coughing as he dragged Sophie away from the fire. “We have to go—now!”

Sophie nodded, holding Tiergan’s crystal up to the light—but before she stepped into the path, she scratched a few lines in the dirt with her heel.

It wasn’t a perfect symbol, but it kinda looked like a moonlark with spread wings.

She hoped the mark survived the inferno.

She wanted the Neverseen to know she did this.

She wasn’t scared.

She was strong.

And she was ready to start winning.

- FOURTEEN - KEEFE

You can’t tell Rex!” Dex snapped—then disappeared from his Imparter’s screen, making Keefe wonder if that meant that he was too upset to talk.

Keefe wouldn’t blame him.

But Dex reappeared a few seconds later, mumbling, “Sorry—had to lock my door. Didn’t want to risk that anyone might hear us.”

“Probably a good call,” Keefe told him, cringing a little.

Just when he’d finally found a way to talk, he’d managed to ruin it—though that was a ridiculous, selfish thought to be having after the bomb he’d just dropped on poor Dex.

Dex’s skin looked pale and sweaty, like he might hurl any second.

“There has to be a mistake,” Keefe mumbled. “Rex can’t be…”

He didn’t even want to repeat the word.

“You’re sure you felt the same thing from my dad?” Dex asked. “Like… it couldn’t have been… I don’t know, that one of the elixirs got on my dad’s skin, and maybe it had some numbing ingredients in it—and that felt similar to holding Rex’s hand, but wasn’t exact?”

Keefe sighed. “I guess it’s possible.”

He closed his eyes and covered his ears, not letting anything distract him as he replayed both memories—focusing on each moment separately and trying to pick the sensations apart down to the tiniest detail.

But… as much as he was dying to tell Dex, You’re right! There actually were a bunch of differences!

He just… couldn’t.

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that both touches had been exactly the same. He’d never felt anything like that strange emptiness before—and he hoped he’d never feel it ever again.

You will, though, his brain reminded him. Every time you’re around someone who—

He shook his head, refusing to finish the thought.

But that didn’t make it any less real.

Any less horrible.

And when he opened his eyes, Dex looked absolutely wrecked.

His whole body trembled, and he wrapped his arms around himself and whispered, “We seriously can’t tell Rex.”

Keefe nodded. “I know. We won’t.”

“It’s going to be so hard lying to him,” Dex mumbled. “He’s going to talk about manifesting all the time—especially as he gets older and starts to worry about it. But I can’t tell him! I can’t.”

“You can’t,” Keefe agreed.

Dex hugged himself tighter. “He was crying earlier—did I tell you that? Bex and Lex had been teasing him like they always do—and he usually doesn’t care. But this was bigger, and he got all upset and ran upstairs and slammed the door to his room. My mom was busy trying to stop Lex from burying everything we own in snow, and my dad was trying to help Bex free her feet from the floor, so I went to check on him, and I found him curled up on his bed, sobbing about how unfair it was. And I told him…” Dex swallowed hard. “I told him that it would be his turn soon enough. And… he didn’t believe me. He looked right at me and whispered, ‘What if I never manifest?’ ”

Keefe turned away.

Dex choked a little as he added, “I told him he was being ridiculous. I said he was only twelve, and he still had tons of time left—and that just because Bex and Lex got their abilities early didn’t mean he wouldn’t get one too. And then I said his ability would probably be way cooler than theirs and that’s why it was taking a little longer—and he sat up and asked, ‘Like a Technopath?’ And I remember thinking how weird that was, since I was actually bummed about my ability at first. But he told me, ‘Think of all the cool stuff we could build together!’ ”

His voice broke with a sob, and Keefe had to scrub away a few tears of his own.

He tried to think of something to say—something to fix this.

The best he could come up with was “We could still be wrong. Just because the two feelings were the same doesn’t mean…”

“Yeah, I know,” Dex said quietly. “That’s why we can’t tell him. Maybe once you get a little more used to the ability, you’ll realize it was just… a misunderstanding.”

“Exactly,” Keefe agreed.

But neither of them sounded convinced.

Dex sniffled. “The thing is, though… even if we knew for sure… we’d still have to hide it for as long as we could. I mean… think about what it would do to him—to his life? He’d probably get expelled from Foxfire. And everyone would start treating him even worse than they already do. Gossiping about how there’s another Talentless Dizznee—they’ve all been waiting for that since the triplets were born. So once they have their confirmation, they’re going to focus all their judgment on Rex and make him feel defective and worthless and inferior—like he shouldn’t exist, and—”