"You say that, but are you even sure the girl has Quanta?"

  Professor Ermin asked as the three of them left the marble corridor and stepped onto the lawn.

  "I'm confident," Trey said. "But the one who can confirm it is Francis."

  Since bringing Luna back to Elkington Academy, Francis had vanished with that oversized burlap sack.

  Ermin shot Trey a disbelieving look, then snatched the Elderwatch badge from Trey's pocket. He pressed it to the right side of Luna's neck. Faint white light shimmered from the eight silver stars before he tossed the badge back and barked:

  "You've got the badge, use it properly!"

  Trey's mouth hung open. Luna heard him mutter, just before he snapped it shut, "I was about to show you."

  "I got captured by an amateur?" she murmured.

  "Hey!" Trey protested.

  "One day I'll die of a headache thanks to you," Ermin grumbled. "And since when did the Headmaster allow you to run E-rank missions?"

  "More like an E stuffed into an A," Trey said. "Starshade's idea of generosity—downgrade the rank, keep the chaos."

  "Chaos indeed." Ermin snapped, eyes darted to Luna. "What possessed you to bring her here? How do you know we shouldn't hand her over to the authorities?"

  He turned and stepped in so suddenly Trey rocked back a pace—right into Luna's face. She bumped his back with a thud. His hand shot out and steadied her.

  "You saw it, didn't you?" Ermin's fingers clamped Trey's shoulders. "You saw something, or how else would you know she has Quanta? You can't even use the badge correctly."

  Trey knew his mentor better than his own reflection. The old man's bark was worse than his bite—and Trey had tested both more than once. He deadpanned, a little bit too proud. "She detonated an airburst right over the market square."

  Luna had lost count of how many times this professor's mouth had opened and closed like a fish. Given a minute, foam might sprout from his lips.

  "But the flash flood wasn't her doing," Trey added. "I checked. That shit was real."

  He drags a live grenade home and still has time to be clever with his tongue?

  "Trey!"

  "What can I say? You were the one teaching us the danger isn't the Quanta alone—it's the user. And she was a sobbing mess when we detained her. Didn't throw a single punch. Look at her, sir. Tell me you can honestly hand her over."

  This time he caught Luna by the shoulders and nudged her forward to face the fuming professor. He even whispered, "Cry. Quick."

  Luna could only blink, utterly lost. She didn't even know which choice wouldn't end in her death. Ermin folded his arms, flicked a glance at her, then swished his robe and strode off.

  "Where are you going?" Trey called.

  "Back to bed!"

  Trey's expression went from anxious to overjoyed so fast it was almost comical. He turned a sunny grin on Luna and nudged her forward. "Come on."

  She didn't move, leveled him with a hard stare. "I want an explanation. All of it."

  Her tone was clipped, decisive. His brows lifted, his mouth tucking like he was suppressing a smile.

  Not so much the tearful girl from yesterday, then.

  "Since when are you holding the cards? Your hands are still cuffed," he said, swinging her linked wrists lightly.

  Luna clenched her fist. The sun slid toward the horizon, shadows cutting across her face; the set of her jaw and the fire in her eyes almost made him laugh.

  "I'm serious. You keep giving half-answers. That old man understands this better than I do and it's my life. Tell me what's going on."

  She jerked her chin toward Ermin's retreating back.

  Trey only patted her shoulder twice. "Someone will explain. Just... not here." He steered her down the path. "And not while the old man's ready to behead me every five seconds."

  She shot him another look. His mouth twitched again.

  Braver. A lot braver.

  "Fine. You owe me one," she said.

  "Right, I always owe you. Come." he muttered.

  They followed the same path as Ermin—the one that slipped into the pines. Luna's steps slowed as the trees thickened.

  "Relax. I didn't haul you all the way from Upperbeak just to murder you in a forest," Trey said.

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  "That doesn't help," she replied, eyeing the shadows.

  After a few minutes, the view opened.

  A large house stood grand among the pines: dark roof against pale stone walls, evening sky smudged violet. Windows and balconies ringed the fa?ade, ivy climbing in places. The front grounds sprawled wider than they needed to, even with a garden and a stable. Trey chuckled and led her through an arched stone gate that looked just like the orphanage's—if the orphanage had been loved and maintained.

  Pine Hollow.

  "Better than the old place?" he teased.

  "Depends," she replied.

  Trey waved at Ermin, who shot them a ferocious glance and vanished inside. Trey's smile morphed instantly into urgency. He tugged her the other way.

  "This way."

  "Where are we—"

  "No questions."

  She let him tow her along the side of the house to the stable. He nudged her in.

  The air smelled of dry hay and iron and—well—horses. Lanterns flickered overhead. Luna's muscles tightened. Across from her stood a girl beside a hill of stacked hay bales—long layered blond hair catching the light even here. Warm hazel eyes. And a beauty so startling it felt like the siren of a sailor's tale. The intense red of her shirt only sharpened it.

  The look she gave Luna turned her spine to steel. Unsure whether to speak first, Luna glanced at Trey—and curled her fist again.

  He was grinning, inspecting his nails. As if he had nothing to do with any of this.

  "She won't bite," he said.

  "Correct," the siren answered, stepping closer. "But him—no promises." She smacked Trey's upper arm. He yelped and ducked behind Luna.

  "Bridget, this is Luna—Luna, Bridget."

  Before anything could escalate, Francis stepped out of the shadows, his pale skin catching the lanternlight as if it glowed. He had clearly been there a while. He did the introductions properly.

  "Pleasure to meet you," Luna said warily. Then, to Trey: "And she's the one who'll explain this—to me—in a horse stall?"

  "No," Francis said. "Bridget's here for the cuffs."

  Bridget swooped in with a tool roll, lifted Luna's bound hands, and examined the mechanism.

  "Quanta suppressor's functioning," she said. "No leakage."

  "The problem is they won't unlock," Trey said. "She's had them on so long Ermin nearly noticed."

  "Quit whining," Bridget said. "You asked me to 'tune' them."

  "I asked for a suppressor install, not maximum-level lock reinforcement."

  Bridget rolled her eyes. She flipped a screwdriver twice, and at last Luna's wrists were free.

  "Thanks," Luna breathed, flexing sore joints. Francis handed her a small tin with messy handwriting on the lid.

  "Pain self? That's... encouraging."

  "Salve," Francis said dryly.

  She uncapped it, sniffed the herbal bite, and rubbed a bit into her skin.

  "If you spent more time thinking than running your mouth, none of this would've happened," Bridget scolded Trey.

  "Agreed," Francis added, deadpan.

  Bridget worked the cuffs again, frowning. "Suppressor add-on isn't linked to the lock assembly. So why did it jam?"

  "Where's the failure point?" Francis leaned in—only for Bridget to rap his knuckles and keep working. She shook the cuffs twice, then slashed Trey a razor look.

  "The failure point is this idiot doesn't take care of his gear."

  "Ouch. My heart," Trey said, hand to chest.

  Bridget fished a tiny shard of metal from the keyway with a hook. Luna rounded on Trey.

  "So I had to shuffle around half-paralyzed from Upperbeak to here because of you?"

  "You were restrained because you have Quanta," Trey shot back. "And Bridget—I didn't do anything to those cuffs. I kept them somewhere very safe."

  "Safe? Where?" Bridget asked.

  Francis adjusted the knit cap he was wearing, suddenly careful.

  "In a drawer," Trey said with confidence. "The only one."

  Francis went still. His gaze dropped—sheen of guilt crossing his face.

  Bridget's eyes narrowed, lips twitching. "Obviously, the one drawer. What else was in it?"

  Trey lifted a hand and counted. "Clothes, coins, snacks, a few weapons, and—uh—some scrap metal. How was I supposed to know something would slip in? Not my fault."

  "So you broke it by accident?"

  "Upgraded it," he said proudly. "Extra security. See?"

  The smile that came with that answer made Luna want to punch him. Francis only made a quiet noise and pressed his lips into a line.

  Bridget tested the cuffs twice more, then tossed them back. "Suppressor's fine. Lock's clear. Don't break it again."

  "No promises," Trey said.

  Francis sighed softly and turned to Luna, worry faint on his face. "You should rest. You haven't slept properly in two days."

  "Rest? Look at her," Trey said. "Half girl, half mud. I'm taking her to the baths before the horses faint."

  "Trey..."

  He dipped her a playful bow. "Come along, Lady Mud. Let me rescue you before the second Rotten King starts lecturing our corpses."

  "What did you just—"

  He only grinned and waved her after him.

  "You heard me," Trey said, laughing into his sleeve. "I did ask you to come back hours ago. Yet you look like you just crawled out of a chimney. Bridget, are you sure he's a healer?"

  Bridget could only shake her head, smiling. Luna huffed a small laugh and followed Trey out, leaving Francis mid-protest.

  "Is no one else here?" Luna asked once they stepped into the dark, quiet hall.

  "Not until the term starts."

  Lamplight flickered low, smearing shadows across wax-scented corridors. Their footsteps echoed. At the top of the stairs, Trey stopped and flashed a grin.

  "Second floor's for the girls. There should be clean clothes in the bathroom. I'll stand guard right here. Don't take too long or I'll sing."

  He gestured down the right wing. Luna gave him a small, helpless smile and slipped into the washroom, closing the door.

  No one else was inside. The light wasn't bright; steam stains clung to tile and glass. She found a clean set of clothes, then slid into a stall.

  Two days of sweat and grime made her undress fast. As she tugged her trousers down, something thumped to the floor.

  Her coin pouch.

  Her heart leapt. She snatched it up and opened it. Florets and Flakes glinted in the light—more than she'd ever held. Much more. And tucked among them was a neatly folded slip of paper.

  Luna's breath caught as she opened it.

  Luna,

  I'm sorry for what happened, but I can't watch them do this to you any longer.

  I've felt something in you—seen it, more than once. I don't know what it is. But as a child I once knew someone like you. Elderwatch came for him. I was terrified. But years later I saw him again working with people from Starshade Guild. Alive, bright, happy.

  Whatever they do, it can't be worse than the Thompsons.

  So I wrote to the Starshade, hoping someone would come for you. And if you're reading this, then they did.

  I hope you live long and gentler than before.

  Elias Atkins

  Luna swallowed against the knot in her throat. Her hands shook so hard the coins clinked together. Cold washed through the room though no breeze stirred; the candle fluttered; the steam seemed to pause, as if the whole room held its breath with her. The air bit with chill—

  —but inside her chest bloomed warmth.

  She pressed the paper to her sternum, letting that warmth spread. For the first time in years, she felt no fear in her heart—as if his words had lifted it away.

  After all the cruelty. After everything she'd been through—

  Someone had actually seen her.

  Someone had tried for her.

  And outside, in the dim corridor, Trey still waited—whistling a tune that was gloriously off-key.