Ms. Cowan didn’t respond, but she also didn’t take her eyes off the man. She was almost shaking with anger. Isaac wondered if maybe someone else should’ve taken charge, after all. As if in response to the thought, Old Man Frypan appeared from the back of the group. He was a moving statue of wisdom and experience, and they all knew the things he’d been through long before a single one of them had been born.

Although he was visibly wearied from the weeks of marching and the day of running, his voice came out steady and strong as he addressed Timon.

“From what I’ve heard so far, young man, one thing sticks out to me like fire in a cornfield. Something that sounds all too familiar and makes my hackles rise to the moon. What the hell you want our Sadina for? What do you mean they need her to . . . to do good things? Speak, boy, and don’t lie to a man who’s on the wrong side of ninety. Got no time for it.”

Timon finally seemed cowed by someone. “The Godhead. They sent me. I came all the way from Alaska—they knew what was going on down in California. They knew about Sadina, about her ties to . . . back then. The Godhead know everything. Why do you think they call them the Godhead?”

“Don’t get smart with me,” Frypan shot back, making Isaac want to pump his fist. “What’s this fool nonsense you’re spouting? What Godhead? How in the real God’s name could they possibly know about Sadina?”

Timon appeared genuinely miserable, perhaps wishing that he’d been the one conked over the head. “Listen. We know about Kletter, the place they call the Villa, the voyage to the island. The Godhead probably had something to do with it! They don’t tell me stuff. But if you don’t realize there was something bigger behind that trip to the Munie island then you’re as big a fool as I am. The Godhead need her for the next stage of Evolution.”

Old Man Frypan grew visibly frustrated. “Anybody else want a turn at kickin’ this big fella? The more words that come out of his mouth the less he makes sense.” Isaac almost volunteered—although he didn’t altogether hate the man. Letti had channeled most of his hate in her direction.

“I know exactly what he’s talking about.”

All heads turned to the one named Minho. Isaac swore the young man had grown a few inches taller and miraculously dried off from his unfortunate spill into the river.

“Yeah?” Frypan replied. “Then I’d love to hear it.”

Minho looked so serious, so dangerous, in that moment, that Isaac took a step back.