“I think dealing with Teacher is the kind of situation where nobody wins,” I told Blindside, flying above so that the limits of my field of vision kept track of where they were.

“That’s my problem to deal with.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“If you’re thinking about having the guy in the fish armor flood the tunnel, think again. I wouldn’t be letting you go if I thought that was going to work.”

I nodded, and then I flew after the others. My hand caught the ladder as I reached the wall, my arm catching some of my forward momentum. I grazed Monokeros on my way up past the ladder.

“We’re really abandoning them?” Tristan asked. He was already aboveground.

I looked down the hole. Monokeros glared up at me.

“We’re not going down through there,” I said. “Come on. We’re heading to the front gate.”

“I don’t like leaving them,” Lookout said.

“We won’t. Sveta’s my best friend and Swansong gave me an apartment with no strings attached. We won’t leave them, I promise you.”

Lookout nodded. “I want everyone together again. We get Tress and Swansong, and then we get Cryptid, and we’ll have Damsel of Distress with us as a bonus. Um, sorry. I’m getting distracted again. Usually Cryptid tells me to shut it.”

Cryptid. It was a disorienting thought, because there was so little about Chris that let me orient my thoughts where he was concerned. He was out there with my sister—and that last element was something that I actively didn’t want to think about. Disorientation and aversion both. Revulsion. Hate. Disappointment.

“Do you have an actual plan, or should someone else step up?” Damsel asked.

“I have a fucking plan, Damsel,” I said. “Ease up.”

Talking about leadership in the first place had been a mistake. I had to take a second, clearing my thoughts. There was a way to do this.

“Lookout,” I said. “We saw the tunnel. We saw where it goes. I know there’s no footage there, but is there any way you can map it out and help us figure out where the tunnel is, beneath us?”

“We’re going in from above,” Rain said.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I think we could,” Lookout said. “Um. When I was lensing the space map, I wasn’t even thinking of underground tunnels, so I double checked before and—”

“Speed it up,” Byron said.

Lookout talked double-speed as she finished, “I have a strong guess and I can refine it. With what we saw down there.”

“Do it,” I said.

“Yes! Projector disc, Capricorn?”

He handed it over.

There was an outright war going on near the front door of the prison. I could hear the succession of noises, of distant detonation, pause, detonation, pause, rumble of something collapsing. The pauses were becoming fewer and shorter, and there were more noises that overlapped. Here and there, gunshots could be heard.