Kat put her hand—the real one—on the captain’s shoulder. “Let it go, Baz,” she said gently. “Boo’s right. It’s not worth it.”

Bastian Black ground his teeth, but he slowly lowered his gun. Leo wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard a sigh escape from the Aykari’s lipless mouth. “Looks like you were wrong. We’re not all heartless, bloodthirsty monsters,” Baz said, holstering his pistol. “Just take us to Crayt before I change my mind.”

Lark nodded. He brushed past the captain and continued to pick his way along the broken road, Boo, Kat, and Skits falling in behind.

Baz’s eyes found Leo’s. “Sorry, kid,” he said.

He didn’t say what for. He didn’t have to.

He didn’t say why. Not at first. He just knocked on Leo’s door and poked his head in, speaking in a whisper.

“Come on. I think we should get out of here. Let’s go to the park.”

Leo put down the comic he’d snatched from his brother’s stash and groaned. He was too tired to leave the house. It had been a long day. Only the third week back at school to start the new year and everyone was still getting readjusted, trying to find a routine.

But he knew he couldn’t say no to Gareth—invitations like this were hard to come by anymore—so he found his socks and shoes and they snuck out the back door, tiptoeing past their father’s office, leaving a note for him on the digital board in the kitchen, telling him where they’d gone and when they would be back: out and soon.

They turned the block, Leo nearly jogging to keep up with Gareth’s longer stride, and crossed the street into the fields that bordered the community park and playground. Up ahead Leo could see the rock wall and the obstacle course and the funnel slide with the sledding hill rising up behind it—and rising even farther behind that, the white-laced outline of the Rockies, standing defiant despite constant attempts to get at the precious element buried underneath them.

“Why did we sneak out of the house again?” Leo wanted to know.

“Because in the next hour or so, Dad’s going to get a phone call from Mr. Harshman, my principal, saying I was in a fight. And I’d rather not be around when he does.”

Leo’s nine-year-old eyes filled with awe. “You were in a fight? What kind of fight? Did you kick ’em in the nads?” Nads was Leo’s new favorite word, taught to him by Gareth, of course.

“No. It wasn’t like that. I punched him is all.”

That seemed just as impressive. “Why? Did he try to kick you in the nads?”

Gareth shook his head. “No. He was spouting off at lunch. Some nonsense about how the Djarik attack was really our own fault and it’s what we get for relying on the Aykari to protect us rather than protecting ourselves. So then I punched him in the nose and asked him if that’s what he got for not protecting himself.”