Their little boat flew past aisle after aisle of old dinghies, motorboats, and the odd yacht that’d seen better days. They kept low, in case there were other Cirkus Freaks about, and the boats rocked on the waves they left in their wake. Otherwise, the night was still. Dorothy squinted into the darkness, her nerves on edge as they approached the library. She knew they were safer here than almost anywhere else in New Seattle. Mac and what was left of the Freaks were still back at the Fairmont, and it was unlikely that anyone had noticed them missing yet. But, still, she worried.

Dorothy was soaked to her knees and shivering by the time they docked in front of the library’s doors.

“Hurry,” she said when Zora cut the engine. “It’s already getting late.”

Ash had a hand cupped over his chin, fingers nervously tapping the side of his face, but he smiled at her and said, “Aye, aye, boss.”

“Get a room,” Zora muttered, rolling her eyes at them both.

They climbed out of the boat and hurried inside, weaving through the stacks, to where the others waited.

The Professor stood near the window, anxiously flicking a curtain aside every few minutes, his left eye twitching. Chandra appeared to be trying to decide on something to wear. She seemed to spend a long time straightening T-shirts and picking invisible pieces of lint off the hems of the jeans.

“You’re back,” Willis said, standing. He had to crouch to keep his head from knocking against the ceiling. The shadows in the library painted his face in harsh grays and blacks, making him look like a man hewn from stone.

At the sound of his voice, the other two looked up.

“Well?” said Chandra, her eyes moving anxiously between the three of them. “How’d it go?”

“Do we look dead to you?” Ash asked.

Chandra frowned. “Well, no . . .”

“So, it went okay.”

Chandra opened her mouth but, before she could respond, Zora had elbowed him. Ash grimaced and rubbed at a spot on his arm.

“We need to move.” Zora’s expression remained the same, but her shoulders tensed beneath her stiff shirt. To her father, she said haltingly, as though choosing each word very carefully, “How did things go back here?”

Everyone went quiet, watching Zora and her father while trying to seem like they weren’t watching. It was awkward, and there was a part of Ash that wanted to tell them all to snap out of it. But the other part, the bigger part, wanted to listen in himself.