“Ko-whats?” Logan repeats.

“Kobolds,” Tara says with an eye roll, and I notice she’s not alone with her annoyance. The little creatures are all squeaking at us. One even has his tiny hands on his tiny hips. “They’re famous in these parts.”

My friends and I look at one another.

“We say that because it makes them happy,” Prue whispers, “but really most people know sprites better. Many kobolds live in mines and are good at getting in and out of tight spaces, obviously. They’re easily offended, but great at helping with household chores, and they love the ship because they’re seafaring creatures. They came aboard with Corden, and I’ve been training them to go on missions ever since. This will be their first real one.”

“Their first?” Logan sounds even more worried. “So we’re guinea pigs?”

“No, they’re ready. Right, guys?” Prue asks the box, which results in more squeaking. “Trust me, you want them with you. They’ll communicate with me the whole time and report back what I say. You’ll know where to go based on what I see going on in the mirror. I can track you with your coins. The plan is foolproof.” She motions to the box. “All right, everyone! Find someone to partner up with.”

The kobolds scurry out of the box and climb up our arms. One eyes me with interest before it runs up my arm, jumps from my shoulder to my ear, and pulls itself up on my lobe. “Ow!” Instinctively, I touch my sore earlobe.

“Careful! You’ll squish me!” a little voice says.

“Hey!” I tell the others. “I can understand mine.”

“Of course, you can understand me.” The kobold sounds annoyed. “You couldn’t earlier because we were too far away. No one will hear us but you and Prue. Everyone else will just think a mouse has gotten loose somewhere, which is actually quite handy if we need a distraction. I speak more than twenty-five languages and animal dialects. How many can you speak?”

“One. Sort of. I’m good at talking to animals,” I tell her. “Do you have a name?”

“Do you?”

“Yes. It’s Devin.”

“Kira,” the kobold says, trying to make herself comfortable on my earlobe. She pulls some of my hair toward her to camouflage her from view. “Prue says we only have ten minutes to get to the building, so let’s get moving.”

Sasha is already running ahead, acting as if we’re about to see the first showing at Pinocchio’s Puppet Theatre. “Come on, already!” She races through the square. People dive out of the way to avoid being trampled by an ogre. “I’ve been waiting for this day forever!”

“That makes one of us,” says Logan, following behind her. He stops short and starts to sneeze. I hear a small “bless you” squeak from his ear. “Thanks. I hope I’m not allergic to you. You aren’t related to dragons in any way, are you?”

Kira talks my ear off the whole walk through the square. I’m listening, but I’m also on watch. It feels weird being out in the open, seen and yet not seen. I keep looking for any sign of Mother or Father or anyone I might know. But people are so busy their faces blur as they pass by.