“What’s going on?” a voice asked, and Barclay turned and spotted Viola running down the road, Ulick, Yasha, and Goath charging after her. “We heard shouting! Are you both—”

“Tadg bonded with a toad,” Barclay told her. And he couldn’t help it—he snickered.

Tadg shot him a furious look. “I did not—”

“A Beast? I want to see!” Viola cooed.

Grumbling under his breath, Tadg stood up, wrung out his dripping sweater, and climbed out to the street. Viola peered at the toad on his shoulder.

“Oh,” she said, disappointed. “It’s so ugly.”

“It was an accident,” Tadg muttered. He tried to shake it off his shoulder, but it didn’t budge. “I’ll make Runa show me how to get rid of it.”

“Breaking a Mark takes a Beast of a higher class,” Viola told him. She reached into her satchel and pulled out A Traveler’s Log, then flipped furiously through the pages. “There’s no mention of a toad with a stone in its head in the Beast glossary. Or maybe it’s a frog?”

Ulick frowned at it. “I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’ve never seen a Beast like that before.”

“Not that this isn’t important,” Barclay said impatiently, “but did you all find any clues about the attack?”

“No,” Yasha answered bitterly. “There isn’t anything to find. Everything’s ruined! What about the papers you were looking for?”

Tadg gritted his teeth. “They’re gone. But I swear they were here. Maybe someone took them recently, or—”

“Viola?” came a smug voice behind them, one that definitely belonged to a girl.

They all turned around, to where not one but three girls stood at the edge of the street.

The one in the center was the one who’d spoken, and her arms were crossed. She had light brown skin, and one of her pants legs was bunched around the thigh. Below it was a sleek metal contraption that replaced everything from her knee down. A large scorpion Beast with plates like steel stood beside her, its tail as sharp and menacing as her expression.

On her right was a girl with long black hair, brown skin, and a heavy build. A small beelike Beast rested on the point of her nose, but she didn’t seem worried about getting stung. She gave them a dimpled smile and even waved, though Barclay had never met her before.

The last girl slouched, as though trying not to be noticed. Her skin was very pale, and her dark brown hair was tied back at the nape of her neck. Perched on her forearm was a black-and-white magpie with big, clever eyes. Both her and her Beast’s shadows danced below them, though they were each standing still.

“What are you doing here?” the first girl demanded.

When Viola didn’t respond—only stared with her mouth hanging open—Barclay whispered, “Who are they, Viola?”