“It’s you, isn’t it?” Kane said.

The Dreadmare slid from the bed and gave Kane its back. It flexed its shoulders, causing the armor to pull and slide on the thin leather.

This room smelled of boy, of detergent and a hint of cologne. Pine, or something close. It made Kane’s instincts itch, made his head fill with fog.

“Show me your face,” was all he could say.

The Dreadmare turned. As it did, its armor transformed, billowing and then unraveling into inky rivulets that flowed rapidly into the Dreadmare’s palm. And then it wasn’t the Dreadmare anymore. It was Dean Flores, holding a small chess piece—the knight, carved from black obsidian. A charm, like Poesy’s, locking away his armor. Dean pocketed it and said, “You’re bleeding.”

It was true. Scrapes all along Kane’s arms had dotted the sheets with blood. Dean was no better. Red rimmed a split in his lip, and a cut on his neck slowly stained the collar of his shirt.

The shock of the revelation lay furious and bare between them. Even though Kane had been daydreaming of this exact moment, he found the sudden reality oddly surreal. What happened now?

“What just happened? Where are we?”

“We teleported. Or we were teleporting when you let out that blast. It got us both pretty good. Do you think you broke any bones?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good. That could have gone much worse.”

“What could have gone much worse?”

“Your rescue.”

Kane laughed. “You call this a rescue? You just…abducted me into your bed.”

Dean shrugged. “I needed a soft place to land you after you built up all that momentum.”

“And where are my friends? What have you done with them?”

Dean looked unsure. “They’re mostly safe, but—”

He’s stalling.

Kane dashed from the room, expecting to find himself in some dank dungeon under Poesy’s lair. He called for Ursula, for anyone. He stopped when he reached the end of a long corridor and found himself not in a dungeon, but in the middle of a sparse room of glass and steel. An apartment, clinically immaculate, with windows that leapt from floor to ceiling and overlooked a river Kane knew.

“This is…” Kane realized the lights across the river were those of East Amity.

Why do I know this place? Why does this view look so familiar?

“My house,” Dean said from behind him. He emerged from the kitchen with two large bowls of water and several cloths. From the bathroom he fetched a plastic bin of bottles and bandages. He motioned for Kane to join him at the table. “You know this place as the Cobalt Complex, right? They are building condos here. I am one of the only tenants right now.”

“This is where you live?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“For now.”

“Where are your parents?”

“Visiting my grandmother.”