A whole lot more silence followed.

“Come on, Glimmer,” Tam pleaded. “If you don’t trust them—trust me.”

Glimmer sighed. “I… heard Gisela mention something to Vespera about a storehouse one time. She didn’t say much else. But it sounded like it was part of the Lodestar network.”

Sophie closed her eyes, wishing she hadn’t let herself get her hopes up.

It felt like a total gut-punch having to admit, “All the Lodestar hideouts were destroyed.”

“Were they?” Glimmer asked. “Or is that what the Neverseen wanted you to believe? I mean, do you really think they’d destroy everything they’d built just because you guys cracked their little symbol? Especially when they’re so good at hiding things with illusions?”

A sharp intake of breath echoed around the room as the gravity of that revelation settled in.

“You know this for sure?” Tam clarified.

“No,” Glimmer admitted. “But… it makes sense, right?”

It definitely did.

“I mean… I know they did destroy some stuff,” Glimmer hedged. “There was this whole annoying power struggle going on, and Fintan was changing up some of the plans and decided to get rid of the stuff he was abandoning. But some of it was left. And it sounded like the storehouse was part of that.”

A tiny spark of hope flared inside Sophie as she whispered, “Where do we find it?”

Glimmer turned to her, and Sophie could hear her sharp smile when she said, “You’re the one who said you wanted to work together. So here’s your chance. I’ll tell you which hideout to go to—but only if you take me with you.”

- TEN - KEEFE

Okay, let’s try this again!” Kesler said, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. “And I gotta say, I have a good feeling this time. I think we’re finally onto something! But we’ll know soon enough. Everybody—earplugs in!”

Keefe cringed as Kesler, Elwin, Ro, and Dex shoved the glittering blobs into their ears.

He couldn’t believe he’d let them talk him into sitting through more tests after what happened that morning.

It had taken several panic-filled minutes for him to find the right command to snap the triplets out of whatever weird trance he’d put them in—and even though they’d laughed about how cool it was to watch everyone freaking out while they were stuck like statues, Keefe was pretty sure he was going to have nightmares about frozen Dizznees for the next few centuries.

Especially since it seemed like whatever he’d done to the triplets had been different from when he’d numbed everyone—more like he’d ripped their emotions away, instead of dulling them. Which made sense, since he’d given a different command. But he didn’t like having multiple ways to turn people into empty shells.

And he definitely didn’t want to discover any other methods.

That was why he’d crawled into bed the second the Dizznees left, hoping they’d give up on the whole project.

But hours later they were back—and Keefe had felt so much hope and conviction in the air that he didn’t have the heart to tell them to go away.

Plus… he wasn’t quite ready to give up on the chance of finding some kind of solution.

So he’d climbed onto Elwin’s armchair, seriously questioning his life choices—particularly after he saw that Kesler had brought five new elixirs to test.

Dex also had two new gadgets.

And the triplets must’ve eaten a lot of sugar.

So basically, there was no way this was going to end well.

“Ready, kids?” Kesler asked, and when the triplets responded with an ear-rattling “YES!” he told them, “Okay—go ahead and grab on!”

“Gah! Why are your hands always so freezing?” Keefe asked as Lex grabbed his left wrist—or he thought it was Lex. It was really hard to tell the triplets apart.

“ARE THEY?” Lex grabbed his brother’s hand.

“NAH, HE’S JUST WHINING ’CAUSE HE’S SCARED!” Rex pulled his hand free and grabbed Keefe’s elbow, flooding Keefe with that strange empty feeling again.

And Bex’s hand still seemed weirdly squishy.

But Keefe didn’t mention any of that, since it was probably another way this new ability was getting stronger and he wasn’t in the mood to think about what that meant.

He wasn’t in the mood to think at all, now that he was getting hit with lightning bolts of the triplets’ exuberance, mixed with tingly giddiness and rippling confidence and a heated sort of curiosity. It all kept building and building and building, like water rising up around him, drowning out all the air.

“It seemed like the orange elixir helped a little last time,” Kesler shouted over the roaring in Keefe’s ears, “so these first three are all variations of that same formula. The other two go in a totally different direction, in case we’re still on the wrong path—but I don’t think we are.”

Spoiler alert—they definitely were.

The first elixir made everything spin and spin and spin so fast that Keefe might’ve vomited if the command he was choking back hadn’t closed off his throat.

The second made his head pound so hard, he was ready to beg for relief—but he bit his tongue instead, letting the iron taste of blood distract him from the word crackling inside his brain.

The third made him itchy.

So so so so so so itchy that Elwin had to pin his arms to stop him from scratching off his skin.

Keefe’s eyes watered and his legs thrashed and he knew there was only one way to end the agony—but he refused to say it.

Refused to even let himself think it.

“It’s all right,” Kesler told him, placing a hand on Keefe’s shoulder. “You’re doing great. We’re going to get you through this.”

But that wasn’t true.

It couldn’t be.

Not with Kesler’s hand triggering that same hollow, empty feeling as Rex’s grip.

Keefe knew what that was now.

It had to be his body’s way of telling him to give up.

Stop fighting.

Surrender to his new horrible reality.

“Hey—don’t you give up,” Kesler told him, like he knew what Keefe was thinking. He pressed a cool vial against Keefe’s lips. “We still have two more tries.”

Keefe shook his head so hard, he spilled at least half of the medicine.

“Come on, Keefe,” Elwin told him. “I know this is hard, but we’re learning a lot.”

A laugh slipped through Keefe’s lips, and it felt as bitter as the elixir he swallowed, which burned like magma, making his eyes water as it seared his throat.

But all that boiling pain at least scorched the word that had been forming, making it crumble to ash and dust.

“Well… that’s something,” Kesler said as Keefe slumped against his chair. “Though it might not be an ideal solution. Last one—for now. And this one should be gentler.”

Keefe didn’t deserve gentle.

But he definitely craved it.

So he drank every drop, sighing as his body turned very, very heavy.

His eyelids drooped, his limbs hung limp, and his breathing slowed and slowed and slowed some more.