“I might have ideas. They’re going to have to wait. The powers are rolling out randomly, ebb and flow, and Cradle got most of them last night. I’m working with baseline Rain tinkertech.”

“I’m not in a rush,” Sveta said.

“I’ll come up with something. For now I’m going to work on arms for myself, but I haven’t forgotten.”

“It’s okay, whatever you do, I’m fine. I’m grateful.”

I watched as the dot continued moving. Faster this time. Car?

Dog?

“Let’s wait and see where she stops,” I decided.

Kenzie was packed up. The others were settling down, breaking into the weeks-old snacks we’d stockpiled, and unwinding from the day.

Erin was keeping to the background, but when she wasn’t staying quiet while we conducted team business, I could see how animated she was, and how she smiled. I could see, too, how Rain was almost revitalized. He had courage now, opinions, almost a new man. Some of that ‘new man’ veered into jumping to assumptions about what Sveta would want, but that was manageable.

I could see it in Ashley, with her clothes obtained. Her hands were working. She was free. There remained a question about what would happen in the future, but for now, things were good there.

It was Kenzie that was hurting. Sveta needed help.

I’d come here to be a coach and I wanted to guide. I’d come to help the city and I wanted to do that. To pull things together.

As I kept an eye on the others, I kept an eye on the icon. I saw it stop, and I saw it remain stopped for several minutes.

“One more snapshot, while she still has the pamphlet,” I said. “Then we take you back to your place, Kenz.”

One more snapshot. She hit the key.

It was Chicken Little, face close to the camera, making a silly face directly at the lens, cheeks sucked in between teeth, lips puckered.

“Of course,” Tristan said. “Of course.”

She was on to us already?

“Come on,” I said, biting back my disappointment. I’d hoped to have a slight edge in this. “Let’s get you to bed, Kenz.”

She didn’t budge from her seat. She reached out, and she hit the arrow keys.

Slowly, the view panned. It was an omni-directional image, and the image could turn away from Chicken Little’s face.

“Do we know what’s at that address?” Sveta asked.

Kenzie kept the key held down while navigating with her mouse. “Hotel.”

Hotel.

The camera panned. Chicken Little wasn’t the only kid there. There were others. Younger girls and boys, most with dark, curly hair. All with masks and costumes.

Bags.

And finally, her back partially turned, Tattletale talking to another woman, who might have been Bitch or might have been Foil—only a sliver of the woman was visible.

“She brought troops,” Tristan said.