“Ignore him,” Sebastian says. “He’s purposely trying to get a rise out of us.”

“No, don’t ignore him,” Miriam objects. “Raphael Vanguard was the captain of the Blood Sci team in Avant before he transferred here. We have to take him seriously. He’s our biggest competition—him and Hera. He knows how to use shame and intimidation against us. So don’t ignore that kind of thing.” There’s fire in her eyes. “Let it make you angry, and use your anger to fuel your game.”

We all clasp arms, and I see my determination reflected back at me on my new teammates’ faces. When tournament season begins, we’re gonna take that arrogant prince down.

I’ve been calling home every Sunday, so after practice I knock on Georgie’s door, hoping to use her internet.

“Come in!”

When I enter, I find her excitedly typing and glancing back and forth between her monitors.

“I was going to ask if I could call my family, but you seem busy.”

“Nah, I’m just working on one of my pet projects. Actually”—she waves me over—“you’ll like this.” Her fingers clack a percussive symphony on her keyboard. “I’ve been tracking different forums for conspiracy theories about our existence.”

“You mean the existence of the Makers?”

“Mm-hm. They think we’re so well hidden, and for the most part we are, but stuff gets out every now and then.”

This gets my attention, for obvious reasons.

“Here, check this out.” She’s pulled up a web page. It’s a conspiracy forum dedicated to “the Hidden.”

“Some of their info is scarily accurate; there’s no way it’s only speculation. The main moderator goes by the handle Cicero. He seems to know the most.”

I lean over Georgie’s shoulder and skim through the posts, certain phrases sticking out. “… poison that makes people forget… born with wings…” I take control of the mouse and continue scrolling, goose bumps breaking out on my arms. “… hidden location for hundreds of years… faked death…”

Georgie’s right; this is definitely more than just speculation. At the same time, plenty of posts are way off base. I see more than one entry about vampires and even one about the philosopher’s stone, both of which I’m pretty sure are fiction.

I slow my scrolling when I reach an entire section on illness. According to these rumors, “the Hidden” can cure almost anything, including cancer. More than one person claims to have received miraculous medication from a mysterious benefactor.

“Have you warned anyone about this?” I ask Georgie.

“Nah. I haven’t found anything concerning enough, but I thought you’d find it amusing. You’re all set up to call your family whenever you’re ready.”