Amid the screens showing news broadcasts and surveillance feeds, they’re all bustling around, the scene chaotic. I search for a familiar face—namely, Kael—but my attention is snared when I see Schrödinger lying across one of the keyboards and watching the activity with feline disinterest. I’m not sure what he’s doing in here since, the last I saw, he was in our room. It’s almost as if I’ve summoned him, which isn’t too great a stretch of the imagination. I did, after all, Speak him into the catacombs from Lengard. I’m still unsure how I did that, but when I asked Keeda if I could do the same to relocate Ward and the others, her panicked, “No!” startled me enough that I jumped a foot off the ground. The explanation she offered—much more calmly— was that since Dinger is a created being, it’s safe for me to use my Speaking ability on him. Humans, however … “Irreversible damage” was the phrase she used, along with something about misplaced organs.

Needless to say, I haven’t attempted to summon anyone from Lengard. I’m not even sure Vanik would deserve such a fate. In my darkest moments, I’ve been tempted, but I’d never be able to live with myself afterward. I refuse to bring myself down to his level. Plus, he might have more information about my parents, and I’m unwilling to risk anything happening to him until I know everything he does.

“What are you doing in here?”

I look up from Dinger to see everyone in the room has stopped what they’re doing, finally noticing us lingering in the doorway. My eyes land on the young woman who asked the question. She’s perhaps a year or so older than me, with brown skin, cropped hair, black eyes, and the stature of a model. Her beauty is striking—but so is the lethal glare she’s sending my way.

“Easy, Arryn,” Kael says, stepping into view from behind a cluster of people. He doesn’t appear thrilled to see Cami and me, but his tone is placating. “I’ll handle this.”

He’ll handle this? My gaze narrows—as does Cami’s.

He approaches us swiftly, gesturing for everyone to return to their tasks. Hesitantly, they continue their flurry of motion, with the still-glaring Arryn being the last to look away.

“Why are you out of bed?” Kael demands once he’s at our sides.

His tone surprises me. With a hint of warning in my own voice, I hold on to what Dante assured us of earlier today and say, “We’re not your prisoners, Kael. You said we’d be free here.”

He rubs a weary hand down his face. I recall the lateness of the hour, something easy to forget with the commotion happening around us.

“You’re right—I’m sorry,” he says. His eyes flick to Cami and away quickly, before settling on me again. “Now’s just not a good time. You should go back to—”

“What’s going on in here?” I interrupt before he can try to dismiss us. While I’m certain this fervor is about the breakout, I want to hear it from him. “Why are you all—”