Also by Lisa McMann

Clarice the Brave

The Forgotten Five Series

Map of Flames

The Invisible Spy

Rebel Undercover

Dangerous Allies

Operation Chaos

The Unwanteds Series

The Unwanteds

Island of Silence

Island of Fire

Island of Legends

Island of Shipwrecks

Island of Graves

Island of Dragons

The Unwanteds Quests

Dragon Captives

Dragon Bones

Dragon Ghosts

Dragon Curse

Dragon Fire

Dragon Slayers

Dragon Fury

Going Wild Series

Going Wild

Predator vs. Prey

Clash of Beasts

The Visions Trilogy

Crash

Bang

Gasp

The Wake Trilogy

Wake

Fade

Gone

G. P. Putnam’s Sons

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First published in the United States of America by G. P. Putnam’s Sons,
an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 2025

Copyright © 2025 by Lisa McMann

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: McMann, Lisa, author.

Title: Masters of disguise / Lisa McMann.

Description: New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2025. | Series: The forgotten five; book 6 | Audience term: Preteens | Summary: “A group of kids with superpowers fights to keep a corrupt president from sabotaging an election to keep his grip on power”—Provided by publisher.

Identifiers: LCCN 2024033689 (print) | LCCN 2024033690 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593698778 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780593698785 (epub)

Subjects: CYAC: Supernatural—Fiction. | Ability—Fiction. | Corruption—Fiction. | Fantasy. | LCGFT: Fantasy fiction. | Novels.

Classification: LCC PZ7.M478757 Mas 2025 (print) | LCC PZ7.M478757 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2024033689

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2024033690

Ebook ISBN 9780593698785

Cover art © 2025 by Brian Thompson

Cover design by Jessica Jenkins

Design by Cindy De la Cruz, adapted for ebook by Andrew Wheatley

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

The authorized representative in the EU for product safety and compliance is Penguin Random House Ireland, Morrison Chambers, 32 Nassau Street, Dublin D02 YH68, Ireland, https://eu-contact.penguin.ie.

pid_prh_7.1a_151575297_c0_r0

For the students, librarians, and teachers
at five awesome elementary schools
in Sacramento (you know who you are)

Election Season

Two months after The Librarian’s explosive rescue from the palace dungeon, Brix came bounding across the monastery lawn from the scooter corral, through the crunchy leaves, to the back deck of the cottage. He slid open the door and stepped inside, where preparations for a party were underway. Lada and Tenner were messily making a cake in the kitchen, and Elena and Seven were stringing a celebratory banner in the living area. Though the presidential election was less than two weeks away, and danger for the forgotten five had ramped up significantly in Estero City thanks to Martim, the supers were trying to enjoy a normal autumn Wednesday to celebrate Birdie’s fourteenth birthday.

“There are protesters gathering outside the main gate,” Brix said urgently, breathing hard. A helmet dangled by its chin straps from his fingers, and he wore sunglasses along with a black buzz-cut wig that disguised his wavy honey-brown hair. Puerco came hopping and sliding down the stairs and careening around the corner to greet and sniff him.

No one immediately shared Brix’s concern. There had been nonstop protests in Estero for months, mostly election-related. But some of the protests were against supernatural people, who’d started to come out of hiding lately due to Magdalia Palacio’s support and encouragement. “I thought I heard something,” Tenner said, looking up, “but I tried to tune it out. What are they chanting about this time?”

“Protesters, schmotesters,” Seven grumbled from the living area. He and Elena were trying to secure a Happy Birthday banner so it hung evenly, but it was frustratingly difficult because it went invisible every time he touched it. He kept having to climb onto a dining chair to adjust it, then let go of it to see if he’d put it where he’d wanted it, then get off the chair to get the full view of the banner, then climb back up and adjust it again. All of Seven’s work over the past months to try to conceal items and people had led to him fully concealing everything that weighed less than about forty pounds. Things larger than that faded partially, like Birdie when he held her hand. She didn’t mind.

Elena glanced at Brix. “How many protesters? Are they anti-Fuerte or anti-Magdalia?”

Brix shook his head. “Neither,” he said. “They’re anti-us.”

Everyone stopped what they were doing. “What do you mean?” Lada asked. “They’re protesting supernatural people outside the monastery? Don’t they realize they’d never get the monks’ support on that?” She had flour all over her sweatshirt and some on her cheek and nose from adjusting her glasses. “Only a coincidence, I hope. Or do they think the monks are supers or something?”

“What did the monks ever do to anybody?” Tenner wondered. “They’re the best people Estero has. National treasures.”

Brix shook his head impatiently. “No, you don’t get it. The protesters are against us kids—the children of the supernatural criminals.”

“Holy expletive,” Seven muttered under his breath. “They couldn’t have found us.” Occasional rumblings against the forgotten five had been happening since Martim had released the damaging article that revealed the existence of the five children on the loose in Estero. It had described the kids as armed and dangerous. President Fuerte had referenced the article in a speech a few days later, telling his constituents in a dark voice, “Magdalia’s other child is among them. Isn’t that interesting? Why didn’t she tell us about him?” Murmurs had begun throughout Estero.

In response, Magdalia immediately changed the bio on her website to reflect that she had two sons—her recently adopted son, Paithoon, and her son with Martim, Seven. Then she released a statement saying the reason she hadn’t disclosed the existence of Seven was because she was protecting him, as he and the other children had been in hiding. But now that Seven was here in Estero, she was thrilled to be reunited with him. She assured the people that the children of the supernatural criminals were only interested in helping Estero become a better place, and that President Fuerte was recklessly endangering their lives with his lies. Magdalia’s supporters accepted the explanation. But a persistent group of Fuerte’s followers latched on to the fear of a supernatural gang of armed child bandits and was determined to track them down and…Well, no one was sure what they planned to do if they managed to catch them.

“There was a group protesting us at the park last week,” Seven continued. “I saw them when I was sneaking around searching for Birdie’s snake.” He’d found it, too, living a nice life in the lush grass near the fountain where Birdie had flown off the police horse and cracked her skull months before. It had been a nerve-racking walk home with a venomous snake—invisible because it touched Seven—slithering between his fingers and around his wrist. “The protesters there were just a bunch of kooky Fuerte followers who hate Magdalia and decided to hate us kids, too, because why not? Fuerte has been telling his base that they need to be cautious and vigilant and watch out for us, as if we’re out to hurt everyone.”

“Fuerte has been riling them up,” said Tenner. “Offering us as targets to go after.” His eyes shifted, making his extra-large pupils shimmer when they caught a stream of late-afternoon sunlight coming through the window. “Maybe the protesters decided to wander the streets today instead of staying in the park.” He didn’t add what they were all worrying about: that one of them had been recognized coming or going. Because it wasn’t simply Birdie’s forensic sketch out there now. Actual photos of all the kids except Seven had been in the newspapers over the past weeks. The photos had come from video footage taken in the palace dungeon during the surprise attack to rescue The Librarian. In the chaos, nobody had noticed that Fuerte had installed cameras sometime after they’d busted Elena out of there many months earlier. They’d suspected that Fuerte had been anticipating their return, but now they were sure.

“No, Tenner,” Brix insisted. “The protesters aren’t just wandering—they’re stationed here, carrying posters with blown-up photos of our faces on them. As I was about to sneak in through the gate, someone recognized me from the photo, even with me wearing this wig, and almost got me.” He caught his breath and tried once more to get them to understand what he was telling them. “They definitely found us. We’re not safe here anymore.”

Breach

“So they tracked you into the monastery?” Seven asked, appalled. “Why did you let them see you enter? What were you doing out there, anyway?”

“Not everyone can be invisible, Seven!” Brix said, his voice pitching higher. “I was just coming home from the library. I needed some information. And I was wearing my wig and sunglasses like I always do, which everyone said would be fine, so I don’t see what I did wrong. Besides, they didn’t see me come in—I saw them as I was about to come in the main entrance. Someone spotted me, so I stopped and went the other way. I rode around for a bit to throw them off, then came in through the secret alley door. Nobody caught up to me—I was too fast for them on my scooter.”

“What makes you so sure they discovered our hiding place, then,” Elena asked, “if they didn’t see you enter?”

Brix sighed, exasperated. “Because they’re at the main entrance trying to break the gate down right now.” He was tired of the questioning. Tired of not being taken seriously. After finally proving himself a valuable member of the team—despite being only ten—by figuring out how to save The Librarian and rescue Seven, who’d been left behind, Brix was still having trouble getting the older generation to see that he could be trusted. Even his own mom.

Elena looked like she believed there was a problem now, though. “Well, I’m glad you’re safe. Did you tell Amanthi?” She started toward the door at lightning speed. Amanthi, the abbess of Monasterio de Piedra, would want to assemble more monks to help out with an altercation like that.

“She knows,” Brix said. “She was by the gate trying to reason with them.” He grabbed his wig and pulled it off, leaving his longer waves flopping wildly. “What I’m trying to explain is that people on the outside discovered we were in here sometime before they saw me. They’d already gathered before I came, and maybe seeing me gave them confirmation that it was true.”

“But how did they originally discover it?” Lada asked. “Who told them?”

“Maybe someone saw one of us enter,” Seven said, realizing Brix’s frustration. “Or maybe they saw Magdalia’s campaign vehicle come here and figured out why.”

“What if Fuerte finally made the connection and tipped them off?” asked Tenner. “He knows from the security footage of the dungeon attack that we’re working with Troy. Plus, Fuerte’s goons tracked Troy all the way back here when he first left Fuerte’s team. It doesn’t seem like too much of a stretch that they’d figure out something’s going on here.”

“And tell some key people so they could cause us lots of trouble,” said Brix.

Elena was texting furiously during the conversation. “Okay, I let everyone on the extended team know to be extra cautious coming or going. We’ll have to see if this problem goes away or gets worse. If it gets worse…Well, we’ll deal with that when we come to it.” She paused with a worried look on her face. “I hope The Librarian and Birdie and Cabot can get in okay. They can’t use the secret door in that huge SUV. The alley isn’t wide enough.”

“And E-kat,” said Lada as Tenner put the cake into the oven. Lada still wasn’t ready to call E-kat “Mom,” but they were both enjoying getting to know each other better, and Lada really cared about her.

“I’m not too worried about E-kat getting home,” Elena said to reassure Lada. E-kat was an extremely large, superstrong woman who had little to fear, plus her photo wasn’t being paraded around on a sign outside. Elena’s phone chimed, and she looked down at it. “Birdie says they’re driving through the crowd now. The police are out there helping to clear a path. The Librarian sees Collazo trying to push the crowds back.”

Viviana Collazo was the police commander who had been blackmailed by Fuerte because her husband and children were supernatural. She and her family were on the side of the good supers, despite the commander having arrested Birdie some time ago.

Another text message chimed on Elena’s phone. “Birdie is crouching on the floor of the front seat so nobody can see her. Cabot’s doing the same in the back.”

Worried, Seven used his stylus to text Amanthi: Do you need any help?

The abbess didn’t reply.

Elena zipped outside to see if the vehicle had made it in safely, then returned. “They’re inside, and the gate is closed behind them. The protesters were shouting at Collazo for protecting them—they must suspect there are kids in the vehicle.”

Moments later, Birdie and Cabot, in disguise, and The Librarian, looking like her usual self, burst into the cottage and set down their packages, recounting the harried scene outside the monastery. Birdie scooped up Puerco, giving him a hug and a kiss between the ears.

Seven listened in but kept glancing at his phone on the table. He texted Amanthi again to let her know the others had made it safely to the cottage. When Amanthi still didn’t reply, Seven shoved the phone into his pocket and grabbed his jacket, which disappeared in his hand as he put it on. “I’m going to see what’s happening out there.” He took off through the sliding door and headed over to the main gate, where a battalion of monks protected it from the protesters outside. Some of these monks had joined in the supers’ efforts, coming to occasional meetings, and had signed up to be on the group newsletter that Cabot had started to keep everyone informed. They were special people.

Seven could see the angry crowd through the iron bars. It was much bigger than the group in the park last week, and it seemed like new people were arriving every minute, as if word had gotten out that the criminal supers’ kids were definitely here. Seven spotted Amanthi inside the gate, surrounded by a group of unfamiliar monks, and went to check in with her. If needed, the supers would use their abilities to fight off the public, and Seven wanted to make sure Amanthi knew that. But they didn’t want to send that message to Estero if they didn’t have to. They needed to prove that they were peaceful and only used their powers for the good of the people. Fighting protesters, even ones that threatened the monks, would be a bad look.

He drew near Amanthi and overheard the monks, who were animatedly speaking instead of being silent, talking about what to do. “To be honest, Amanthi, I’ve had enough of these disruptions,” said one monk. “It’s been one distraction after another since that team moved in. Do they ever plan to leave? We’ve been protecting them for months. Perhaps they’ve worn out their welcome by now…Don’t you agree?”

Seven stopped in his tracks, and his blood ran cold. Another monk chimed in, backing up the first. “While we understand our mission here at the monastery is to protect those in need,” the second monk said, “we’ve passed the threshold of reason with this group. These protests are only going to grow now that they know the criminals’ kids are hiding here. The protesters are loud, and the supers are loud, and we can’t really get any studying or meditating done if we’re spending our time defending the gate.”

When a third monk started detailing all the times the supers had interrupted the silent dormitory with their exclamations during training or conversations on the cottage deck, or by holding meetings in what was supposed to be a quiet space on the lawn, Seven’s heart dropped, and his face flushed with shame. He began slinking away. Their group had become a nuisance. And worse, everything the monks were saying was true. The newcomers had slowly claimed the monastery as their own. They’d broken rules and forced poor Amanthi to make exception after exception for them while their numbers continued to grow at a rapid pace. The place had turned from a restful learning and meditation center to a sprawling enclave for bumbling supers who were taking over the dormitory and who kept forgetting to be quiet when they were outside.

And now that their cover was blown, things were going to get exponentially worse. By the time Seven reached the cottage, he knew without a doubt what the group needed to do. When he walked in, he made sure to close the sliding door firmly before speaking. They’d made enough noise on these grounds.

Almost the whole group had gathered by now, including the gang from the dormitory: Troy, Sabine, Caliro, Superfly, E-kat, and, last but not least, Cami Leone, who was their most recent surprise addition to the team.

Birdie and Cami had had words after Cami had joined them in the big group meeting on the lawn. It hadn’t gone well.

“You tried to kill me using an animal under your control,” Cami had said.

“That’s because you were impersonating a public figure and putting my friends in danger,” Birdie had stressed. “I thought you were going to kill someone.”

“Well, I wasn’t. And I’m not sure I can trust a young, naive super who exploits a powerful animal ability and doesn’t use common sense when working with killer wasps.”

Birdie’s face had flushed. “I’m not sure I can trust a super who was working with Fuerte and attacked my friends. And I can assure you that though I am young, I am not naive. I knew exactly what I was doing with that wasp, I understood the consequences of my actions, and I’ll do it again if I have to in order to protect my friends and family.”

Cami had stared. Thrown her hands up. Stared again. “Okay, then. Not even a sorry?”

Birdie had thought for a moment. “Sorry your ill-planned actions resulted in you getting stung by a killer wasp.”

“Wow.”

Finally, Birdie had softened. “All right, that was a bit harsh. I’m sorry for what you went through. Really.”

Cami had lifted her chin. “Thank you,” she’d said coolly.

Since then, they’d kept their distance. Cami was still coming to terms with almost dying, and Birdie was still wrestling with her ability to actually take someone’s life, while pretending that she’d been as cool as a cucumber about it. Despite the conflict between them, Birdie was thankful she hadn’t actually killed her.

Now Birdie barely acknowledged Cami, who was the last to arrive at the cottage. She presented as her most recently created persona: a woman with long, lush black hair and metallic makeup, wearing motorcycle gear. Cami greeted the group, barely nodding in Birdie’s direction. Only Magdalia, Paithoon, and Commander Collazo’s family weren’t present.

“Everyone,” Seven said, making his location in the room known and quieting down the group. “I’ve just been out to the gate. I overheard some things, and…they weren’t good. I think our time at Monasterio de Piedra is over.”

There was a collective gasp as the supers looked at one another.

Seven went on. “Not only because we’ve been discovered. But because we’ve been really annoying guests, and we’ve taken advantage of Amanthi’s kindness for a little too long. Now that Fuerte’s mob of protesters has tracked us down, things are going to be rough here for the monks again. And it’s our fault. Again. We need to find a new home. Today.”

Change After Change

The crowded room exploded in discussion and arguments: Their headquarters had been discovered by bloodthirsty vigilantes. There was no place to move to. Half the monks were trying to join their team, but the other half hated them. The election was around the corner. And it was Birdie’s birthday—the cake was baked, and the party was about to begin. Couldn’t they sit tight a little longer?

Seven sighed. He didn’t mind the pushback. But his ears still burned with the conversation he’d tuned in to. He, like Tenner, hated overhearing things he wasn’t supposed to hear. Whenever that happened, it changed things. Just as it had today, when the monks had told the truth about how they felt. It was completely clear to him that he and the other supers had overstayed their welcome, and he felt sure everyone here would see it that way soon, too.

When they finally quieted down, Seven relayed more details of what he’d overheard the monks say. “It made everything obvious to me,” he said solemnly. “I felt ashamed when I heard what they said. We’ve been so lucky to be here. We’ve had unwavering support from Amanthi and many of the monks. But here they are, defending us again. Getting their gate bashed in again. Staying up all night protecting us so we can sleep. Living through the constant noise, when all they want is quiet, and dealing with our growing team basically taking over their space. We’ve stuffed this cottage full, and we’ve migrated into their dormitory. We’re making noise outside, disrespecting their rules, and we’re even holding group meetings on the lawn when there should be silence.”

Troy and E-kat glanced sheepishly at each other as they realized the slow creep of their comfortable stay had turned into something entirely unacceptable.

“But Amanthi said it was okay to do the lawn meetings,” Brix argued.

“Of course she did,” Seven said. “She would give us anything we asked for. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay for us to ask. Now that we’ve been discovered, the rest of Estero will learn of it, and the news will explode. It’s going to be bedlam if we stay.” He looked at Elena and Birdie. “Elena, I know you said we should wait to see if this becomes something or goes away, but…”

“It’s not going away,” Birdie said slowly, finishing his thought.

“And we have money now,” Seven went on, “thanks to Troy’s cool million bucks. We aren’t desperate for a free place to stay. We need to let go of this monastery and allow it to be what it was meant to be. Before we ruin it for good.”

The hard truth was met with silence, and Seven could see the others thoughtfully coming to the same conclusion he’d come to. It was obvious. They’d just done everything so slowly that nobody had really noticed what an imposition they’d become as time passed.

“I think you’re right, Seven,” Birdie said. “But I’m not sure where we’re supposed to go. We’ve got a big team. And we would need security or some sort of protection. With the election so close, I feel like moving out now would use precious time that would be better spent convincing the people of Estero that they should vote for your mom.”

“Moving won’t take long,” Seven said. “We’ll each carry our personal belongings, like when we had to escape into the tunnels the day Troy came. We haven’t accumulated much since then.” It was true—the items they’d bought with Troy’s windfall were mostly small electronics, melee weapons, ropes, and tools. They’d also started paying the new supers.

“What are our housing options?” asked Cami with her typical sarcastic tone. “Do we have any?”

“How about going back to the tunnels?” Brix asked. “There’s plenty of room down there.” He was met with a resounding chorus of negative exclamations so loud it startled him. “Sheesh,” he muttered. He liked the echoey tunnels with their awesome walls just begging for a bouncing boy to run up them and do flips.

“The tunnels aren’t safe anymore,” Sabine Fuerte reminded them. “The cameras would have caught us going into the bathroom and not coming back out. They’ve probably already figured out we went through the floor since the tile pattern is all messed up from Matterson liquefying it. Who knows if they’ve ripped that up by now.” To be cautious, E-kat had moved the refrigerator back over the monastery entrance to the tunnel once they’d learned about the video footage. If Fuerte’s goons broke through the bathroom floor of the dungeon, they’d find themselves in the giant underground maze. The various tunnel exits wouldn’t be a secret for long.

“Let’s brainstorm,” Seven said. “I was thinking we could live at Magdalia’s house on the bay. She’s got the setup we need with all the alarms and security and stuff.” Not to mention he’d sort of started to like his mom. And Paithoon was cool, too.

“On the bay? Okay by me,” said Tenner. He longed to be closer to the ocean, which had been his dearest friend at the hideout for so many years.

“Her home isn’t big enough for all of us, though. Is it, E-kat?” Birdie asked, concerned. She’d never been inside, but from the outside, it looked only a little larger than this cottage. Here they were sitting shoulder to shoulder in the living area, on furniture and the floor. A couple rested with legs swinging on top of the dining table since the chairs were all occupied, and a few pressed up against the bedroom doors and the bottom steps of the staircase.

“Don’t forget the press is all over that place.” E-kat wrinkled her nose and swept her gaze over the size of the group, all stuck uncomfortably close together in this place. “As for the inside, there are only two bedrooms and an office. I suppose we could convert Magdalia’s living room into a sleeping room with a bunch of bunk beds or cots…but then there’d be no space to gather for meetings. And with no privacy or individual bedrooms, we’d be on top of each other even more than we are here.”

While they all got along politely, sometimes tensions wore them down, like when Caliro practiced her joke-telling charm.

E-kat thought a moment longer. “Magdalia’s office is nice, but it’s small, and she needs a quiet space to work. That home is not set up to house sixteen people plus the security detail that has to be there daily as well. Also, Commander Collazo’s family may need shelter at some point. It wouldn’t be feasible. Not to mention Magdalia should concentrate on her campaign right now.”

Seven nodded reluctantly. “All good points. We’d be a big distraction to her work.”

“So we’ll have to rent a place?” asked Caliro, looking nervously at Superfly. “How much would that cost?” The siblings had made the big jump to join the good guys during The Librarian’s escape, and they’d been relieved to find out they were to receive paychecks because Troy had donated the proceeds of his recent book deal to the cause. But they’d hoped to keep living somewhere rent-free so they could actually get ahead in life for once. They had dreams for when all this was over—an apartment, maybe even their own vehicle. Could they dare hope Troy’s money would pay for the rental home, too?

“Finding a big enough place with the kind of security we need sounds difficult, if not impossible,” Elena said. “If we’re feeling threatened here, which is probably the safest place in Estero City, we will definitely feel threatened anywhere we go. We’ll have to have some sort of alarm and security system to give us protection.”

Cabot looked up sharply. “Something with a fence?” She turned to stare at Troy. “A big ol’ electric fence that goes all the way around it? Within close proximity to the palace and museum—two places we seem to visit frequently?”

“The mansion!” Brix shouted, bouncing around and accidentally banging into people, then apologizing.

“But Martim is living there,” Troy said.

“One guy all alone in that enormous house,” Tenner said, picking up the thread from Cabot and eyeing his dad. “He practically lives at the palace anyway. He doesn’t need that place. Besides, it’s your turn to live there for a few months.”

“I bet there’s absolutely nothing in the refrigerator,” Cabot remarked, remembering her first experience with soda and stinky cheese. “I never saw Martim eat a meal there.”

“Don’t forget the place is half yours,” Tenner said to his dad.

“What do you want me to do?” Troy asked, sounding defensive. “Go to court to reclaim my half? That would take forever, and the judge would probably just make us sell it and split the money.”

“I can think of a much faster way,” Seven said, sounding eager and sinister at the same time.

“What, throw him out onto the street?” asked Troy, incredulous. “Dump his belongings out after him?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Seven said, turning doubtful. But then again, why not? Martim deserved nothing. He’d treated people terribly. Wasn’t this fair play?

The six kids exchanged glances while the adults did the same…and no one seemed vehemently against it. After a moment, Tenner started nodding. “Yeah. Throwing him out seems about right. And there are several of us here who would very much like to help.”

A Secure Place

Once the supers settled on a plan, Birdie and Elena sought out Amanthi to give her the news that they’d be vacating the monastery that evening.

“There’s absolutely no reason for you to leave,” Amanthi insisted to Birdie and Elena. “I’m so sorry Seven overheard some of our monks’ disparaging remarks. We never want things like that to happen. And everyone truly is welcome here for as long as you wish to stay.” Worry lines formed on her forehead, and her eyes were tired. “Please do not feel pushed out.”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Elena said gently. “I only told you what Seven heard to provide context for our decision-making process. We all realized quite abruptly how much we’ve taken advantage of your kindness. We apologize, and we no longer wish to drag out the unrest we’ve caused you, especially since it’s ramping up. We are so grateful for your goodness these last months, and we could not have accomplished our goals in safety without you. But now it’s time for us to move on. Once the public learns that we are no longer hiding here, I expect things will quiet down for you again. And who knows—you might be able to provide shelter to someone else in grave need.”

“You’ve done so much to help us,” Birdie added. “Thank you for your kindness. You’ve been a very cool example to all of us on how to treat people.” Her mind flitted to people like Martim, and she mentally excluded him from that group. “How to treat good people, I mean.” Birdie would take Martim out any day if she had the chance to, no matter what the monks taught…and a bunch of the monks probably would, too. “Any residents here who signed up for our email briefings will continue to get news from us, in case they ever wish to join us in our efforts. So this is not goodbye. It’s thank you. And we will definitely be seeing you again.”

Amanthi reluctantly accepted their decision and offered her unwavering support. “If you need protection, you know how to get in through the alley door. And you are welcome to access the tunnels through our mess hall cellar anytime if you decide it’s safe to move the refrigerator blockade. Please…” Amanthi choked up. Her eyes shone as she placed her hands on Elena’s and Birdie’s shoulders. “Take care of yourselves. You are precious to this community. And thank you for making Estero a better place for all people. I guarantee we will not forget you.” The three embraced, and that was that.

While E-kat and Sabine lined up two Magdalia for President SUVs to help move the team, the rest of them packed their belongings. They hurriedly held a fifteen-minute birthday party for Birdie, long enough to enjoy a piece of cake and wish her well. Then they cleaned the cottage from top to bottom so that they would leave it looking as lovely as when they’d moved in. After all they’d put the monks through, they didn’t want them to have to clean up after the supers, too. As they worked, they devised a plan to eject Martim from the mansion.

Before departing that night, the kids wandered the grounds together, silently remembering shared and solo moments: The clothesline pole where Lada always did her workouts. The flower bed by the mess hall, and the time they’d wondered if an entrance to the tunnels lay beneath it. The wall on which they’d learned how to climb, and the bell tower that Cabot had visited to think about her parents. The bench where Lada had sat after she found out E-kat was her mother. The mess hall that had provided them with the entrance to the lower tunnels they’d so desperately needed, and the cats who roamed the property—one had led them to the cellar. Cats had been the least helpful animals Birdie had ever worked with, but Ducky had come through for them a couple of times, and Mama was nice. No one had much to say about PeePee. They returned to the area behind the cottage where they’d had countless discussions, and the deck steps where there had been several important bro talks about feelings.

When the others went inside, Cabot slipped away to climb the bell tower one last time. She looked out over the city lights, in the direction of the park. The direction of Cabot Industrial Services. Her parents’ building. Her heart tugged as she thought of them in their upper loft apartment. She was really mad at them. But she would take them back in an instant. It was probably dangerous to admit that to anyone—the Stones weren’t to be trusted. But it was true. After a moment, Cabot sighed and returned to the ground, putting away the secret ladder that disappeared into the tower wall.

At the cottage, the others passed through the rooms one final time to gather up the last of their belongings and say goodbye. The memories flooded back there, too—like when they’d all sat on Seven’s bed and accidentally broken it, and the time they’d talked to Cabot on the phone and seen her eyes glow for the first time. The big fight between Tenner and Lada, and all the bowls of cereal that had been eaten at the table. All the meetings in the comfy living room chairs…meetings that had started with eight of them and had grown to more than double that when Magdalia and Paithoon and the commander and her family stopped by. This place had witnessed momentous and heart-stopping incidents, like when they’d gotten The Librarian’s awful email saying she’d left them for Fuerte’s team, and when Troy had pounded on the front door wanting to join them, and when Birdie had realized Seven had gone missing, left behind in the sealed palace dungeon by mistake.

Before carrying her things downstairs, Birdie peeked in Seven’s room, where the two of them had said that they like liked each other. Ever since then, they’d simply carried on the way they always had, spending time together and sharing private jokes and holding hands—things like that. Neither of them knew what else to do now that they’d admitted how they felt. But lately Birdie had been thinking about a kiss—she’d even imagined that a kiss could happen on her birthday. But turning fourteen hadn’t played out at all like she’d planned or hoped. They’d hurriedly eaten bites of cake between cleaning and packing, and now they were heading out on a midnight mission to evict Martim. There would likely be a boring fight and a lot of yelling and threats, which was getting tiresome. Birdie sighed and turned out the light, wondering about Troy’s cold, sterile mansion. Would she and Seven have a cozy, quiet space to hang out together in their new home, like they did here?

Just before midnight, everyone stowed the last of their belongings in The Librarian’s SUV and gathered in the parking lot. Amanthi came to see them out safely. She held two helmets and two electric scooter chargers. “If you have room for a couple of scooters,” she said, “you’re welcome to take them. I know how useful they’ve been for the children.”

“Yes!” whispered Brix as he pumped his fist and bounced around the parking lot. “We’ll make room. Thank you, Amanthi.”

“I can take them in the roadster if I put the top down,” Troy said. He took out his key fob and pushed a button that made the vehicle’s top mechanically detach, fold, and tuck itself away. Then he grabbed the scooters and placed them on top of the other stuff in his backseat, and tucked the cords and helmets wherever he could find space. He secured everything with stretchy cables. When he was finished, he turned to the group. “Martim will be sleeping when we get there. It’ll be a surprise attack. This will be easy as long as security will let me through, and I have a hunch they will.” He patted a wad of bills in his shirt pocket.

Now the group just needed to get past the protesters and have Troy maneuver them inside the mansion’s electric fence. Brix and Cabot squeezed into one SUV full of belongings, with E-kat driving. The rest of them piled into the other two SUVs. The roadster only had room for Troy to drive. At the last second, Puerco scrambled out of Birdie’s arms to go with Troy, somehow sensing that the open air would be desirable.

Once Puerco had a secure spot next to Troy on top of a duffel bag, with the man’s protective arm over the pig’s back to keep him safe, the caravan departed, weaving through the small number of protesters who’d stayed this late into the night. “We’re leaving for good,” Troy called out to them. “The kids, too. So you can stop bothering these monks.” Puerco raised his snout to the wind, and they sped away, taking a circuitous route so they couldn’t be easily followed to their next location. The protesters chased after them, then slowed and stood forlornly in the street as the vehicle lights grew fuzzy in the distance. They dropped their signs. Troy knew they’d spread the word soon enough that the criminal kids had left the monastery.

“I hope they leave the monks alone now,” Elena said from the SUV she was driving. She turned wistful. “It really was the best place for us.”

“But now we’re heading for a cold, sterile mansion with no personality,” said Birdie unenthusiastically from the front passenger seat. The kids had all searched the home before and were slightly trepidatious about the furnishings…or lack of them.

“At least it’s big,” Seven said, trying to find something good to say about it. He and Cabot had spent the most amount of time there. Part of that time they’d been handcuffed to chairs, and the rest was spent sneaking around looking for old money in the attic. “There are rooms I’ve never even been in, and I stayed there the longest.”

Tenner yawned from the dark backseat. It was late, and the chatting seemed excessive and unnecessary after a long, exhausting day. His earplugs were packed somewhere in a different vehicle, so he was stuck listening. Once the other passengers finally went quiet, he was able to doze off for a few minutes. And then, suddenly, they were there, turning up the driveway. Tenner sat up, instantly alert, watching and listening again.

The four vehicles drove slowly up the winding driveway, past the forest of trees, with Troy taking the lead so he could open the electric gate with his remote control. Two security guards stood at the front door, and one other patrolled the yard. Seeing the familiar roadster with Troy at the wheel, the guard outside the fence approached. Troy waved to him and rolled forward, and the SUVs followed.

Once all four vehicles were inside the fence and parked, Troy got out and walked toward the guard, who’d followed the vehicles in. The team, unafraid due to their might and numbers, assembled on the driveway as quietly as they could. Troy greeted the guard by name.

“Are you moving back in, sir?” the guard asked, nervously eyeing the small army behind Troy.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Troy said. “And so are my friends.”

“Oh,” said the guard, not quite sure what to make of it all. “All of you? I don’t think Martim is expecting you.”

“He’s definitely not.” Troy surveyed the yard in the moonlight. “Where are all the other guards?”

“Martim cut down the staff.”

“Has he been paying you?” Troy pulled a wad of money from his pocket.

“Uh, no,” said the guard, glancing at the folded bills. “He said you’d pay us as usual, but our manager hasn’t been able to get ahold of you. My guys are getting desperate. A few of them left to work for Fuerte.”

“I knew Martim wouldn’t take over the household duties,” Troy said bitterly. “I suppose the yard’s a mess, too.” He couldn’t quite see the state of the bushes in the shadows.

“The landscapers haven’t been here in months,” the security guy said.

“Well, we’re about to kick Martim out of here for good. If you guys stick with me, I’ll pay you for everything you’re owed, plus a little extra, and get back on track. We’d like to keep you on if you’re willing. Okay?”

“Yes, sir, Troy,” said the guy. “We appreciate it.”

“Great.” Troy peeled off several large bills and gave them to the head guy. “He’s home, right?”

“Y-yes. But…you’re not going to kill him, are you? I can’t stand by and let that happen.”

“No, of course not. We’re merely removing him. He’ll be angry, but you don’t need to worry. Just keep him out if you can—I know it’s hard when he goes invisible.”

“We’ll do our best. Thank you.” Bolstered by the wad of cash, the head security guy rounded up the other two, paid them, and told them what was going down.

Troy signaled to the team, and they headed to the front door. Troy slid a key in the lock and opened the door, and the crew crept inside.

They split up as they’d planned: Seven led E-kat and Tenner to Martim’s bedroom to deal with him, while Troy and the rest, carrying empty bags, cased out the living area to pack up Martim’s things. Martim stirred as the three entered his room—he was fully visible, but Tenner was there to sniff him out in case he went invisible. E-kat rushed in and grabbed the man, holding his arms pinned to his chest while Tenner and Seven slipped a rope around his ankles and tied it tight. Martim screamed, trying to kick the boys away. “Who are you!” he demanded, confused in the dark. He went invisible, but it didn’t help matters since they could still see his pajamas.

“It’s E-kat,” she said, unfazed. “Your time here is over.”

“You’re going to kill me?” Martim screeched.

“No,” said E-kat, “your time in the mansion is over. Not here in the world. Unless you do something foolish, and then I make no promises.” She picked him up and marched out of the room with him tucked under her arm, squirming.

On the way out, Cabot was ready—she had her eyes glowing and tried to catch Martim’s gaze so she could convince him that he should change his ways. But he was fighting in his constraints too much to even notice her. “Let go of me! Put me down!” He began to flicker between invisible and visible as if he were short-circuiting. E-kat took him outside like a sack of garbage being brought to the curb. She went through the fence and down the driveway.

The packing-up team went into Martim’s bedroom, tossed the personal items they could find into the empty bags, then took them out to the road behind E-kat. Martim’s voice grew hoarse with yelling, and the shouts echoed through the trees and into the night.

E-kat dumped Martim into the ditch next to the road right on top of a patch of poison ivy. Caliro, Superfly, Elena, The Librarian, and Brix all threw his personal items into the ditch next to him. Cami drove Martim’s car out to the end of the driveway and left it there, keys in the ignition, but she took out the remote controls that operated the mansion’s electric fence and garage door.

Martim, still hollering, struggled to his feet and tried to chase after them. But with his ankles tied, he kept falling in the overgrown weeds and poison ivy, getting up, and falling again. Once the group returned to the house, the security team closed the gate, leaving Martim at the road to untie himself, collect his things, and go find a new place to live.

Another Hit

After sleeping on the floor with not enough blankets, the supers woke up on Thursday morning, twelve days before the election, with the autumn sunlight streaming through the windows. They took stock of the mansion, doing a full tour: In the great room was a small, firm sofa, a couple of uncomfortably stiff lounge chairs, and a dining set. Two of the seven bathrooms had linens and cleaning supplies, and two of the six bedrooms had beds.

There were two offices with workstations. Lada peeked into Martim’s and noticed her old crutch—the one she’d lost when teleporting out of the dungeon cell with Seven—hanging like a prize on the wall. Her face turned beet red with fury. “What a piece of something I shouldn’t say,” she muttered as pain ripped through her heart. Her crutches were a part of her. Extensions of her limbs. Not some prized hunted game to display and lord over. As Lada imagined Martim’s glee at finding the crutch, her eyes filled with tears, and she let them fall. She grabbed the crutch and ripped it down, leaving holes in the drywall, then put it with her other personal items, still fuming. Still so hurt that a non-disabled human could be so cold and uncaring and ignorant. She couldn’t wait to run into Martim again so she could zap him.

She returned to find the supers continuing through the mansion.

Tenner noticed the tears still wet on her cheeks. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, and moved to wipe the tears away. “Are you okay?”

The others gathered around her, wanting to know what had caused her distress. Lada told them what she’d found and how upsetting it was. “It’s not a joke to mess with people’s mobility aids,” she said. “I’m glad you all understand and respect that, but some people in this world are horrible.” She blew out a breath to try to clear the image from her mind. “Let’s keep going.”

They stumbled into a utility room with a washer and dryer, some tools, and a few weapons that the team was happy to inherit from the jerk who thought it was cool to hang someone’s mobility aid on the wall.

Back in the central part of the house, there was a sunny nook off the great room that held a desk where Seven had once found a phone charger, some office supplies, and a few of Troy’s journals. And that was about it.

While the others dispersed to the kitchen, Brix rummaged through the drawers of the desk. He found a pad of sticky notes and pulled the top one off, examined it, then stuck it back on the pad. He’d seen these things at the library, and The Librarian had kept some on her desk at the monastery cottage, but he’d never used one. Why write on paper when you had a phone to keep everything organized? He set the pad down and roamed the room full of grumpy, hungry people.

“No coffee?” The Librarian exclaimed, searching the bare kitchen cupboards.

Troy shrugged. “We always got ours at the palace.”

“No food, either,” she noted. “Not even a can of soup or a box of cereal.” She turned to open the refrigerator. “There’s a plastic container full of mold.”

“That might be really old cheese,” Cabot said. “Don’t open it or we’ll be forced to fumigate the place.”

“What do you mean, no cereal?” Tenner exclaimed.

“I’ll run to the grocery store,” Elena said. “Troy, give me your keys.”

Troy gave her a side-eye glance. “You said you were running.”

Elena gave him a playfully annoyed look the forgotten five had seen before, back home in the hideout. “Not literally. I mean I could run, but it would be hard to carry everything back by myself. May I take your car, please?”

“I’ll go with you,” Seven said from somewhere unidentifiable. They’d have to figure out the echoes in this new place to be able to discern where he was. It was especially echoey in the areas where there was no furniture to help absorb the sounds.

“I don’t want you to risk getting detected,” Elena said gently. “Right now they are hyperaware and actively searching. People could notice items going invisible and then reappearing in our cart. Or our grocery bags disappearing when you help carry them out. Or the cart disappearing if you brush against it.”

“I could come along for company, then,” Seven said, “and not touch anything.” He felt like he was pleading, but he really needed to get away after the whole throwing-his-dad-out incident. “It would just be nice to go somewhere and…take a breather.” Even though the mansion was filling up with the group’s belongings, it still somehow felt like his dad’s place, where he was kept captive. It even smelled faintly like Martim—slick-hair product and musky cologne. He shuddered.

“Yeah, I hear you.” Elena smiled. “Okay, Seven. I think that would be all right.”

“Don’t wreck my car,” Troy said, and gave Elena his keys. “I’m still annoyed about the scrape on the hood. I can’t figure out how that got there.” He didn’t notice Lada cringing. She’d scratched it once when she’d teleported into the garage and accidentally landed on it. She’d decided it was better not to tell Troy.

“I might crash it just to spite you,” Elena grumbled.

Birdie and Tenner exchanged an amused glance. The two parents were bantering more and more like they used to, but in a comfortable, teasing way instead of an I’m-stuck-in-a-hideout-with-you-forever way. They weren’t mad at each other; they were griping for entertainment—something friends did. It seemed like Elena had gotten over the resentment she’d held for him during the past three years, which was nice. Troy had done a lot to earn it.

While Elena and Seven built a grocery list before going to the store, Troy started looking through the crates and boxes of kitchen supplies and food they’d brought with them from the cottage. He pulled out a container holding the remaining piece of Birdie’s birthday cake and opened it. Then he glanced slyly over his shoulder to see if the birthday girl was watching. Several kids glared back at him, so he set the cake down in front of Birdie with a sheepish grin. “Found this for you.”

Birdie snatched it away, pretending to hoard it. “There’s some peanut butter in that bag. Do you have any spoons in this bare-bones kitchen?” She closed the lid on the cake and put it on the counter for later.

“Of course we have spoons,” Troy said, offended. “We’re not animals.”

Cabot smirked. “That’s technically untrue. Now…what are we going to do about beds?” She said it loudly so the older supers congregating in the dining room could hear.

“I’m already working on that,” E-kat called out from the dining table, near where Seven and Cabot had been zip-tied to the chairs. “I found a furniture warehouse not far from here.”

“Who wants bunk beds?” Cami asked. She was standing behind E-kat, looking at the screen.

“Me!” shouted all the kids, plus Superfly and Caliro.

“You really want a bunk bed, Caliro?” Cami glanced at her.

Caliro shrugged. “Why not? I’ve never had one. It sounds cool.”

While E-kat and Cami worked on a furniture shopping list, Elena and Seven slipped out with some money and the grocery list. Elena revved up Troy’s roadster a few extra times just to bother Troy. She used the remote to open the electric gate, waved to the guard, and took off. She and Seven strained to see if Martim’s car was still around, but it was no longer at the end of the driveway. They turned toward the grocery store, not noticing Martim’s car in a parking lot a couple of blocks away.

Martim wasn’t in his car. Before the electric gate could close, the invisible man, who’d been lying in wait for hours for someone to open it, slipped through and headed straight to the service door to the garage—the one that was never locked. A moment later he was using his key to enter the house. He turned the handle and walked in as quietly as he could.

At the dining table, Tenner heard the click and lifted his head. He got up, looked down the hallway to the service door, and saw it close. “Seven? Did you forget something?” He sniffed, then looked alarmed. Before he could say anything else, Tenner cried out in pain and flew backward several feet, his back slamming into the wall and his head bouncing off it. He slumped to the floor and curled up in agony, unable to catch his breath.

“What the heck?” Birdie said, alarmed. She stood up and immediately started moving her hands out in front of her, suspecting Martim.

Troy rushed over to Tenner. “Are you okay? What happened? Seven?”

A chair lifted up and smashed into bits across Troy’s back, knocking him to the floor, too.

“It’s not Seven!” Brix shouted. “Martim got in!”

The rest of the team sprang into fight mode, but their elusive enemy wasn’t going to make it easy for them. “Where is he?” Cami shouted, poised but unsure where to turn.

Cabot ducked behind a chair to think—she wasn’t sure her glowing eyes could help here when she couldn’t see Martim’s eyes. Brix began bouncing all around as fast as he could, taking large leaps through the open spaces, trying to locate Martim. E-kat skidded into the area, fists swinging, determined not to get hit first. Superfly saw what Brix was doing and started flying low on the earth’s natural magnetic fields through the mansion, going back and forth in rows like a lawn mower, avoiding the supers he could see. But soon Superfly was yanked by his foot and swung around through the air. “Help!” he screeched. Martim threw him down the hallway, and he landed with a terrible clatter.

Brix bounded over to where Martim had to be, flinching but knowing he’d heal fast if Martim attacked him. “Come and get me, you creep!” he shouted.

“There’s got to be a way to see him,” Cabot muttered, emerging from behind the chair. She looked around for a weapon to swing—if she could somehow hit him hard enough to draw blood, he’d leave a trail. Seeing a table lamp on Troy’s desk, she went for it and unplugged it. Then she spied the pad of sticky notes. “Hmm.” She pressed her back against the wall, holding the lamp like a shield to offer some protection against the invisible monster, and her mind buzzed with an idea.

“I’ve got him!” Brix yelled as he swung wildly through the air, grasping Martim’s arm and trying not to let go. “Over here, quick!” Then, “Ai-yai-yai!” he cried as he flew through the air, smashing into the picture window but thankfully not breaking through it. He fell to the floor, and Caliro rushed to help him.

“Knock it off, Martim!” Troy roared. “These are our children! What’s wrong with you?” He got up and staggered over to where Brix had found Martim. His X-ray vision could detect Seven’s camouflaged movements, but not Martim’s fully invisible ones. He was as lost as the others.

“He’s gone berserk,” The Librarian said, also checking on Brix, who was healing quickly. “Caliro, go do your stuff.”

“If I can’t direct my joke at him,” Caliro said, “it’ll hit someone else. We need to pin him down or corner him first.”

“Got it.” The Librarian and Cami carried Brix to a safer spot behind a chair, then moved to shield Cabot, since Martim seemed to be going after the kids.

Cabot darted around The Librarian and whispered harshly, “Birdie! Over here!”

Birdie weaved through the group, whipping her head this way and that as if it would help her see Martim. Her venomous wasps buzzed on her earrings. Her face was pale. “I can’t get to my snake. Do you want me to use the wasps?” she asked The Librarian, her voice cracking.

“Not yet, but be ready,” The Librarian said. Martim was tall and slender—not nearly the bulky, muscular size of Troy, but he was larger than Cami, so he probably wouldn’t die if he were stung. But The Librarian didn’t want to put Birdie through the trauma of using the wasps if she didn’t have to.

“We just need to find him for one second,” Cabot said, taking a tentative step out in front of The Librarian. She held the sticky notes in hand.

Just then E-kat’s swinging fists connected, and Martim cried out. He crashed into a lamp near the sofa, and pillows went tumbling all around. Troy dove on top of him, and the two started pummeling each other. Martim landed a forceful uppercut to Troy’s jaw, knocking him out for a second, and slithered away.

“Grab him, E-kat!” Cabot ran over, unintentionally kicking Martim in the face. He snagged her ankle and flipped her to the floor, muttering something unsavory, but she didn’t let go of the sticky notes. Instead she scrambled to grab on to him as E-kat snagged him in a tight embrace. Cabot ripped off a bunch of sticky notes and hurriedly stuck them all over the man’s back and on his hair. “There!” Cabot said. “Now we can see where he is!”

Martim picked up a small wooden footstool with his free hand and smashed it over E-kat’s head, making her let go of him. Cabot ducked, anticipating Martim’s swinging arm, but he tripped her a second time instead and scooted away to nurse his injuries. He swiped at the sticky notes, pulling most of them off, but there was one stuck in the middle of his back that he couldn’t reach. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t stay stuck for long in this ruckus.

“The peanut butter!” Lada exclaimed, realizing—or rediscovering—that things touching Martim didn’t go invisible like they did with Seven. With so many people and broken things on the floor in her way, she concentrated, gripping her wheelchair, and teleported with it into the kitchen. She grabbed the jar of peanut butter off the counter and unscrewed the lid. Then she found a lone rubber spatula and scooped some out. She used the countertop to help her stand so she could see over the bar, watching and waiting for Martim’s yellow sticky note to get closer—it seemed to be barely hanging on by a corner now. When she had a clear shot, she launched the spatula full of peanut butter right when the note dropped to the floor. The spatula hung there for a second, seemingly in thin air, before letting go and falling to the carpet. But it left a big, sticky glob splattered on Martim’s back. Lada’s eyes widened. “Follow that glob!” She grabbed her crutches and searched the counter, spying the piece of cake, then went after the moldy cheese in the refrigerator. She lined up the items on the counter, then threw those things at Martim, too, when he approached. The frosting painted a target on Martim’s shoulder to help the others see him, and the moldy cheese…well, the part that stuck to Martim helped the supers identify him, but mostly it filled the mansion with a tremendous, unfortunate stink.

Despite the smell, the team swarmed and trapped Martim. E-kat grabbed his wrists and yanked them behind his back while Brix and Birdie slithered in to secure the man by the ankles. Caliro rushed to stand in front of him, finally able to direct her debilitating joke ability properly. She sneered at him and said menacingly, “Hey, Martim! Why does a duck have such long tail feathers?”

Martim growled. He hated Caliro—hated her ridiculous jokes and the power she had over her victims—it was humiliating. “Shut up!” he screeched. “Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” But the ability had affected him, and despite every effort to stop himself, he was no match for her. He spit out the necessary response. “I don’t know. WHY?”

Caliro grinned and daintily wiped off a drop of Martim’s spit that had landed on her cheek. “To cover his quack.”

Martim gasped, trying and failing to stop what was happening. But then he exploded into horrendous, doubled-over laughter. E-kat let him fall to the floor, incapacitated from the joke, while Cabot found some zip ties in the stash of criminal things they’d discovered earlier. She zipped his wrists tightly behind his back as Lada cautiously picked her way through the debris, summoning the electrical buzzing to her fingertips in case Martim tried anything…and maybe even hoping for it.

“Cabot, go check the back door lock for his key,” The Librarian ordered. “E-kat, let’s get him out of here. Keep his car keys, too—and the car, and everything else! We were too nice last time.” She smoothed her dress. “Try this again, Martim, and you will be very sorry.” She smiled evilly, thrilled that Martim couldn’t offer a comeback at the moment. But her expression darkened. “What kind of man hurts children—children he’s known since they were born? Shame on you. And shame on you for that sickening display in your office. Lada’s crutch is not some sort of prize to be won. You are irredeemably awful.” She turned to Brix. “When you’re able, I think Tenner needs you most.”

Martim only stopped laughing long enough to draw another breath, then succumbed to it again. He started flailing, kicking E-kat’s kneecap.

E-kat cried out in pain and stumbled backward, but Lada was there. As Martim struggled to roll away—covered in peanut butter and birthday cake frosting and stinky cheese, and laughing uncontrollably—Lada dug in her crutches and sent a warning shower of sizzling sparks in front of his face.

“No-ho-ho!” Martim laugh-shrieked, scrambling away.

Cami’s eyes widened as she watched Lada move with unwavering determination. Birdie wasn’t the only kid with a deadly ability.

Lada leaned hard on one crutch and reached out her buzzing fingers. “Never hurt my friends again,” she warned. Then she connected with Martim’s frosting-smeared shoulder. Sparks exploded like fireworks. Martim screamed and sizzled before falling silent. The rest of the room went quiet, too.

“I didn’t give him a full charge,” Lada muttered as she turned away to concentrate on the littered path in front of her and find Tenner.

After checking Martim’s pulse, E-kat turned to the others. “He’s not dead.” She scooped him up roughly under one arm. “Troy, can you dress this fool so he’s visible? His people will need to be able to find him.” Troy, bruised and bleeding from a huge cut on his chin, limped to Martim’s bedroom and found some clothing in a closet they’d missed the first time they’d thrown Martim out.

Sabine emerged from the back bedroom wearing a bathrobe and towel-drying her hair. She stopped and looked around at the disaster and the injured supers. “What the heck did I miss?”

Birdie filled her in while E-kat and The Librarian loaded Martim into the palace-owned SUV that The Librarian had “borrowed” and dropped him off at the guard station outside the palace gate.

News Flash

By the time E-kat and The Librarian had gotten rid of Martim at the palace, located his abandoned car, and brought it and all of Martim’s belongings to the mansion, Elena and Seven had come back with groceries and heard the whole story. Lada and Birdie had cleaned up the cake, moldy cheese, and peanut butter, and Brix was slowly healing the group, taking time between each person to recharge. After healing from his own injuries, it was harder to take on the others’, but he doggedly made the rounds from Tenner to Superfly to Cabot to Troy, absorbing and experiencing the pain of their horrendous cuts and bumps and bruises so they could feel better. Luckily, the rest of the group’s injuries were mild. And now they had food.

While Elena and Seven put away the groceries, Troy led the rest of the cleanup effort, and E-kat filled everyone in on what she and The Librarian had done. “We brought him to the guard station,” E-kat said. “I wanted to dump him somewhere, but I couldn’t. I know he’s a monster, but…I guess I’m not. So they’re taking care of him. They know me, of course—and they seemed to be quite surprised that I didn’t just leave him for dead on the side of the road after I told them he’d attacked children. I don’t think he’s been very nice to the guards.”

“He hasn’t been nice to anyone,” The Librarian said. “He’s going to regret that someday.”

“Maybe even today,” Lada said darkly. Her electric shock had knocked him for a loop.

“I’m sorry I missed the action,” Seven said. “From the way you described it, I wonder if Martim has figured out Tenner’s abilities after sparring with him a few times. He seemed to know it was important to take down Tenner first, since he’s the one who can detect him the best. Keep aware going forward, T.”

“With any luck it’ll take a while for him to heal,” said Tenner, “so we won’t have to deal with him. He took a beating from all of us, and the kicker was the electric shock.”

“I held back on the strength,” Lada told those who hadn’t heard her say it the first time. “He’s awful, but I didn’t want to electrocute Seven’s dad, because then we’d have even more family junk to work through. And to be honest, I think we’ve all had plenty of that already.” She glanced at her mother, and E-kat grinned back at her. They’d been intentionally doing things together since they learned they were related—going to lunch, taking walks, shopping, talking, and getting to know each other. Lada couldn’t wait for their relationship to feel natural instead of intentional. They were getting there, but it was an odd situation and it was going to take time.

Lada didn’t really understand what having a mom was supposed to feel like because she’d never had one. How would she know when they actually got to a normal mother-daughter place? Were they supposed to argue? She often looked to Birdie and her mom to see how they interacted. They had an interesting tone with each other. Birdie was often more direct and blunt with her mom than she was with anyone else except maybe Brix, and Elena had a similar, more comfortable vibe with her kids than with the other ones. Birdie also had a special silliness with Elena that didn’t come out with the other adults she knew well, like Troy or Magdalia. Was that normal for family members? Lada didn’t think any of the family relationships she’d seen with this group represented the average family, though. Maybe there was no such thing as an average family.

Cami narrowed her eyes at Birdie. “Why didn’t you use your wasps on him?”

Birdie shifted. “I assessed the situation and decided that with so many of us fighting against one person, there were plenty of other options.”

Troy gave Cami a look. “Lay off her,” he muttered. “She sent one of her wasps at me that night, too, but I’m not crying about it. I deserved it. Like you did.”

Cami shrugged indifferently. “Just asking. May I assess the situation, too? Or only Birdie?”

“You’re fine, Cami,” Birdie said lightly. “Assess me all you want. I’m comfortable with that.” She glanced at Troy and thanked him with a small smile. Inside, her heart pounded. Would Cami ever get over it?

Seven slipped his warm hand in Birdie’s, and they went to gather up the sticky notes strewn across the floor.

By the time Tenner finished vacuuming, the rest of the group had put together a meal and gathered around the big table. There were only seven chairs remaining after Martim had smashed one on Troy. But because the dining room opened up into the large sitting area, there was room for all the supers, and the space didn’t feel overcrowded. It seemed like this would be a good place to stay.

As they ate, Elena opened the newspaper to check the headlines, and one of them, below the fold, caught her attention. Birdie leaned in and put her head on her mom’s shoulder to read it with her.

Supernatural Criminal Kids Spotted

A persistent group of President Fuerte’s followers who’d been searching for the supernatural criminal children made headway last night. They located the hiding place of the five at the Monasterio de Piedra—which also happens to be the location where notorious criminal Troy Cordoba had been tracked months before, when he exited the president’s team. After failing to get inside the property, most protesters left for the evening. But those who remained reported a caravan of supers, including the five children and Cordoba, speeding out into the night. The protesters complained that Estero City Police had assisted the supers to keep them safe.

The monastery’s abbess, Amanthi, confirmed to Estero City News this morning that the supers had indeed been living on the property but had been driven out by the president’s mob. “They’ve informed me they won’t be returning,” Amanthi said. “I’m appalled by the way they’ve been treated. Supernatural people are human beings with needs, like all of us. When a society fails to recognize that and turns on supers who are different, they also shun the gifts and talents those people offer to improve our lives and the world around us. This mob of protesters refuses to recognize how useful supers are to the greater good of the world. It’s a terrible shame and a waste of resources.”

No one knows the current whereabouts or the intentions of the five children, Troy Cordoba, and the additional supers who are traveling with them. But not a single protester thinks they left Estero.

After Elena read choice sections aloud, Birdie scoffed at the last paragraph and wiped her hands on a napkin. “Intentions. Our intentions are to fix your broken country. It would be nice if you would stop getting in our way. But it was great how Amanthi schooled them.” The group discussed the article and praised Amanthi for speaking out on their behalf, even though it could put her in jeopardy.

Elena paged through the rest of the paper, reading tidbits aloud about the museum’s newly installed security cameras after the series of break-ins, and noting for Birdie’s sake that the Estero City Zoo was looking for volunteers to help out with a few temporary exhibits, as well as Zoo School a few times a month.

“What’s Zoo School?” Birdie asked, her interest piqued.

“It’s just field trips,” Lada explained. “Schools take buses to the zoo so the students can spend the day there and learn about animals.”

Birdie sighed. “I wish I could go to Zoo School.”

Elena reached out and patted Birdie’s arm. “Sorry, kiddo.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.”

As E-kat and Cami started to clear the table so they could go back to searching for furnishings, The Librarian’s phone chimed.

She checked it, and her eyes widened. “Oh no!”

“What?” asked several of the others.

“It’s finally happened.” The Librarian looked up. “Commander Collazo has been fired.”

A collective gasp rose from the supers. “It was only a matter of time,” Sabine said.

“It’s effective immediately,” The Librarian said. “They gave her thirty minutes to pack up her desk, and she got escorted out.” She got a second text message and gasped. “And the palace just dropped a press release revealing that Viviana’s husband and kids are supers! They gave out their names, their home address, the workplace for her husband, and the name of the school the twins attend.”

“That’s horrible!” Elena exclaimed. “What is wrong with people?”

“That’s called doxing, and it’s very bad,” Cabot said, eyes wide. Lada nodded.

“Viviana’s family is about to be in grave danger,” The Librarian said. “She doesn’t know where to go.”

“Well, obviously they can come here,” Tenner said. “Tell her we’re making room right now.” He looked around the space, then ran his fingers through his hair, not sure where to start. There was plenty of space here. Just no beds. Yet.

While The Librarian texted Collazo back, E-kat paced the hallway with her phone to her ear. She’d been looking for a place where they could get a lot of furniture in a short amount of time. She returned to the table and reported, “Nobody I’ve called has enough sets of bunk beds in stock, and we don’t have time or a proper vehicle to go and pick up one or two from each place. Plus, we need more…” She waved her hand vaguely around the space. “More everything. By tonight.” She looked at Troy, feeling frustrated. “You know people out there on the street or wherever you do business. Any chance you can make the beds happen?” She cringed, slightly worried Troy would say yes.

“Watch me,” said Troy with a glint in his solid black eyes.

Tenner looked up and almost volunteered to help his father, but he still felt the urge to hold back. Some stubbornness inside him had him wondering why he should help Troy when Troy had never helped him.

Troy detected the movement and caught Tenner’s gaze. His heart thudded. He didn’t want to be rejected again—not in front of all these people. But he had to risk it. He had to ask, and to keep asking, until Tenner was ready to say yes to him. “Any chance you want to help me, Tenner? I could use it. If…you’re not too busy. I—I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

Tenner bit his bottom lip. He thought he could hear his dad’s heart pounding, even from this distance. Troy was trying so hard, and he wasn’t giving up. Lada squeezed Tenner’s knee under the table, encouraging him, and eventually he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, a bit more coolly than he was feeling. “I suppose I could do that.”

Bonding Time

Troy, disguised as a security guard in a black suit and cool shades, and Tenner, wearing a long black wig with a pink skunk stripe and big sunglasses, set out for the part of Estero where apparently large quantities of bunk beds were sold by a guy on the street. Tenner was apprehensive in the passenger seat of the roadster, while Troy immediately pulled out his phone and dialed as he slowly wound his way down the curvy driveway.

Tenner’s lips parted in surprise—he’d thought Troy might’ve wanted to talk…maybe repair some broken things. Who was he calling? “You shouldn’t be on your phone when you’re driving,” Tenner said sharply.

“On our way,” Troy said into the phone as he obediently stopped the car at the road. “What’s the cross street?” He paused to listen, and Tenner could see the lines deepen in his father’s forehead. His solid black eyes gave nothing away. “Oh, that old warehouse. I know the place.” He hung up, pocketed his phone, then pulled out onto the street. “Sorry. I won’t do that anymore.”

“Good.” Tenner relaxed a bit—his dad had only been confirming the bunk bed warehouse location. He eased back into the luxurious leather and turned on the seat warmer, which was a marvelous invention. He watched Troy out of the corner of his eye as the man drove. Troy’s large brown hands made the steering wheel seem almost toylike. The suit-sleeve buttons at his wrists shone. Gold rings adorned his fingers; Tenner remembered them from the old days at the hideout. One of them was his wedding ring.

Tenner’s eyes prickled. He couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Are you feeling okay after Martim’s attack?” Troy finally said. “Boy, that Brix has a powerful ability. I feel completely normal. We definitely need to keep him on our good side, eh, Tenner?”

Tenner laughed uneasily. “Yeah,” he said, but it seemed strange to think there could ever be a time when Brix would be on their bad side. It struck him in that moment. “You know,” he ventured, “we kids aren’t like you parents. You’re always turning on each other. Not trusting each other. We don’t do that.”

Troy nodded thoughtfully. “You’re lucky. You’ve got something really special there. Don’t mess it up.”

Tenner leaned forward, defensive and eyes fiery. Here was his dad thinking Tenner was a screwup again, like when he was younger. “Do you think I will mess it up? Because you’re wrong. It’s not going to happen. Why do you always think the worst of me?”

“I—” Troy turned in to a parking lot in the warehouse district and went around the back of the building. “No, bud. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it like that. I meant don’t be like me. I’m…you know. I’m the screwup. And I don’t want you to be…like…me.”

“Oh,” Tenner said abruptly. He was still fuming, though he had little reason to be. “I guess I jumped to conclusions,” he admitted.

“Understandable,” Troy said as he pulled the roadster to a stop next to a row of semitrucks and swept his gaze over the doorways, looking for the right name. “It’s because I used to belittle you and make you feel like I didn’t believe in you.”

“I, uh…” Tenner swallowed hard. Even though Troy had become a better person, Tenner still wasn’t used to hearing him talk like this, admitting his past failures so openly and willingly. On top of that, this location was distracting and a little scary, which had Tenner’s mind racing about other things. They were alone in a remote back parking lot of a weather-beaten warehouse with a row of empty semitrucks. What was this place? “Are you sure this is the location? It doesn’t look like a furniture store.”

Troy turned off the car and did an X-ray stare through the building wall. “Yep, I’m sure. Come on. Let me introduce you to an old acquaintance.”

Tenner’s eyes widened. Was this some shady deadbeat criminal Troy used to hang out with or something? Tenner didn’t want anything to do with stolen…bunk beds. Or whatever. But he scrambled out of the roadster and followed Troy to the nondescript white door that was painted to match the building. Troy rapped on it with his knuckles.

A small, overalls-clad woman of about sixty opened the door and squinted up at Troy. She had a hammer hanging from a loop at her hip and a screwdriver peeking out from one of her pockets. “Well, look who showed up after all these years. You’re a legend. Not sure I approve of your recent actions, but honestly, I don’t blame you.”

“Nice to see you, Marie,” Troy said with a smile. “It’s been a while.”

“Come on in. Who’s this?” She pointed her nose at Tenner, sizing him up and eyeing his wig like she didn’t trust it.

Troy glanced at Tenner, hesitating. He hadn’t thought this through. If he said Tenner was his son, would Marie want to turn the kid in?

Tenner saw the hesitation and frowned. Did his dad not want to admit who he was? Was he embarrassed or something? “I’m an associate,” Tenner said stiffly.

“No,” said Troy, now that he’d had a second to weigh the scenarios. He trusted Marie. “Not just an associate. He’s my son. Tenner Cordoba.” He grinned proudly.

“Well, isn’t that nice,” said Marie, hooking a thumb around the overalls strap at her chest. “One of the elusive kid criminals. Nice to meet you, Tenner. I read about you in the paper.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tenner said politely, but he secretly wondered if she was about to call the cops on him.

“Your dad used to help me at Sunrise Foster Home whenever I had to bring in new bunks for the residents. He made a good assistant and was a hard worker. Wish I could’ve hired him after he graduated, but his eyes made it obvious he was a…Yeah. Anyway, that would’ve gotten me in a lot of trouble.”

“He…Wow.” Tenner was baffled. He rarely thought about Troy as a teen at Sunrise. It surprised him that Troy would’ve helped anyone back then.

Troy shrugged, tickled that Tenner’s mind had been blown. He wondered briefly if his life would’ve been different if he’d been able to work with Marie. Maybe he wouldn’t have turned to crime. Maybe Lucy would still be here and none of them would’ve needed a hideout. The thought pained him. Fuerte’s policies had caused a lot of pain for all of them over the years.

Marie weaved through the warehouse, past living room furniture sets, and showed them the vast section of bunk beds. “I supply youth hostels, the monastery dormitory, and the university, too,” she boasted to Tenner, then turned to Troy. “How many do you need? I’ve got a driver on his way here now so we can get these out to you.”

Troy looked quizzically at Tenner. “Should we get a few extra just in case?”

“Oh, uh…” Tenner shifted. “Yeah. We have the—” He stopped short before saying that the former commander and her family were coming. He didn’t want to reveal that to anyone, even if they seemed safe. Instead he said, “It would be nice to have a place for friends to sleep over. And whoever else joins us.”

They settled on twenty stackable bunks to go with the two existing king-size beds in the house. Then they picked out a soft, comfy sectional couch that would seat at least eight people and bought that for the great room, along with a couple of accent chairs. “Let’s grab a few dining chairs, too,” Troy instructed, and Tenner picked out a style that would go nicely with the seven existing ones. Soon Troy, Tenner, Marie, and the semitruck driver were loading everything into the back of the truck.

After, when the Cordobas got back into the roadster all sweaty and sore from the workout, Tenner realized what a good time he was having. He’d never done anything like this before with his dad, or with anyone. “I’m glad you invited me,” he said as Troy put the top down on the roadster. “Marie was great. It was nice to learn something about you when you were younger.” He laughed sheepishly. “I guess I thought you were going to hook us up with some shady back-alley mobster or something. Not a nice person like Marie.”

Troy chuckled softly. “No more mobsters, kid,” he said. “I’m not the guy you used to know. And I never will be again.”

Making Room

While Tenner and Troy were buying furniture, the security team at the mansion tripled. The Librarian and E-kat greeted the new guards as they waited in the mansion driveway for the Collazo family to arrive. The head of security briefed the team on Martim and his abilities, and what to prepare for in case he came back. They ran through a new procedure for when the gate was open to help minimize the chances that Martim could sneak in again. “We’re glad you beefed up your team,” The Librarian told the head of security. “Be prepared for a fight. Once Martim lets everyone at the palace know where we are, they may come looking for us. Are you up for the challenge? We have more VIPs coming in shortly.”

“Yes, we’re ready,” the head of security said. He’d been extremely agreeable ever since Troy had paid them. “We’ll take good care of you all.”

As the Collazos’ car appeared through the trees, The Librarian waved to them so they’d know they were in the right place. She motioned for the former commander to drive inside the fence as it opened for her, and she and E-kat followed close behind. And while no one expected Martim to show up due to his injuries, the guards nevertheless practiced protecting the opening to keep any invisible people from entering and closed the gate behind them.

The Librarian introduced the Collazos to the security team. “I’m sure you’ve heard the news that Commander Collazo has been fired and her family was doxed by Fuerte’s team. People will be looking for them, and we’re going to keep them safe. You’ll recognize Viviana of course. And this is her husband, Vince, and their children, Sasha and Pascal.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The head of security asked a few questions and took notes on the four and their vehicle. When he was through, he immediately got on the phone to find a few more guards, in case they had more trouble than they’d bargained for. The Collazos collected their suitcases and backpacks and whatever else they’d been able to grab before their house had been compromised by Fuerte’s gang of street mobsters.

“Come on in,” The Librarian said to the Collazos. “You look harried. What a rough time you’ve had. Are you all okay? Kids?”

Sasha and Pascal nodded, but they weren’t smiling, and they kept looking behind them, down the driveway, as if they expected someone to have followed them.

“I guess Fuerte didn’t like that I helped you get out of the monastery,” the former commander said wryly, keeping it light. She wore street clothes—jeans and a sweatshirt—and looked like a regular person instead of the stern chief of the police department. Wisps of hair had gotten loose from her barrettes. “They’ve stripped me of my rank, I’m afraid. And Vince got mobbed in the parking lot at work when the news broke. Nobody there had known he was a super. Needless to say, he was fired, too.”

“Good thing I could use my defense shield,” Vince said. “That’s my ability,” he added, looking at The Librarian.

“So I’ve heard,” The Librarian said, sounding pleased.

“You used it in public?” Sasha asked her dad, wide-eyed. “We’re not supposed to do that.”

“Everything changed today,” Vince said gently. “I’d just gotten exposed. Plus I had a group of angry former friends heading toward me, and I needed to get to my car before they did something rash.”

E-kat winced. “It’s hard when your friends turn on you.”

Vince nodded. “Not all of them did, but there were enough to put me in danger.” He looked away. “It hurt my feelings, if I’m being honest. It was one of those times when you find out who your true friends are.”

Sasha took her father’s hand. “I’m glad you got away.”

“I’m glad your mom was able to pull you out of school before people came after you,” Vince said. He saw the worried looks on their faces. “But we’re safe here. And there is a lot of super talent living on this parcel of land. We’re lucky to have these new friends.”

The kids didn’t seem to feel lucky at the moment.

They went inside, and the rest of the supers came to welcome them. They showed them where to stash their things, invited them to have a sandwich, and let them know they expected to have beds for everyone soon.

“What’s your ability, Sasha?” asked Birdie when the family was settled. She could tell the kids were still apprehensive. Birdie had met them a couple months earlier at the monastery, but they hadn’t really talked much since then.

Sasha looked at her mother.

“It’s okay to tell them,” the former commander said. It was clear she had drilled into her children that they should never talk about their abilities with anyone. “Like your dad said, everything changed today. It’ll be hard to get used to. But you can use your abilities anytime in public if you need to, starting now.”

“Anytime?” Pascal asked. “With strangers, too?”

“If you need it to help yourself or someone else, yes.”

Pascal, a serious boy, nodded.

Birdie didn’t blame the kids for being careful. Lada smiled understandingly and said, “When I first found out I was a super at Sunrise Foster Home, I didn’t tell anybody—I was scared to death because sometimes my teleporting happened by accident. Thankfully, I found The Librarian to help me navigate things.”

“We are all supers here,” Birdie said, “trying to make things right in Estero for people like us. So you’re safe.”

That seemed to reassure the new kids. “I can make a portal to move through walls,” Sasha said quietly, like she was telling a secret. “I could use it if I’m trapped, or if I need to get into a locked room.”

“Wow, for real?” asked Brix, starting to bounce. “Can others go through it, or just you?”

“Anyone who’s fast enough, I guess,” Sasha said. She’d seen Brix bounce before, outdoors on the monastery lawn, but it was fascinating to watch him do it indoors. The way he instinctively rose to the right height to keep from hitting his head on the ceiling was impressive. “I’m working on being able to adjust the size of the portal and the length of time I can hold it. At the moment it’s only big enough to fit one person at a time, and it lasts for about three seconds.”

“Will you show us?” Seven asked.

“Uh, sure.” Sasha’s eyes darted around to see who’d asked the question. She and Pascal knew there was a camo boy in this group, but they still needed to get used to hearing his voice without being able to see him.

“I’m Seven. Sitting across the table from you in the spot where it seems like there’s no chair—it camouflages with me.”

“Ah. Sorry,” Sasha said. “That’s really cool, though.”

“Sometimes it is,” said Seven with a laugh, “and sometimes it’s a big pain. It’ll be hard for you to get used to being in a room with someone you can’t see, but don’t worry about hurting my feelings or anything—you won’t.” He smiled so the friendliness would come through in his voice.

“Okay. Thanks.” Sasha smiled nervously, still not knowing exactly where to look, but she aimed her gaze where she thought his eyes would be. She was feeling jittery about performing her ability in front of a bunch of strangers, but she was also growing more excited about being with such a large group of supers. They all seemed like they were really interested and glad to have her family there.

After looking around the space for a good spot to demonstrate, she went over to the bare dining room wall. She held her hand out, palm facing the wall and fingers spread out. She moved her hand in a circular motion like she was washing a window or erasing a whiteboard. A second later, a shimmering oblong hole appeared in the wall, and everyone could see the room on the other side. Sasha hopped through it, and the hole sealed up, hiding her from view. The group exclaimed and clapped appreciatively. A moment later Sasha found her way out of that room and came through the hallway, looking sheepish.

“That’s such a useful ability,” Birdie said, her mind racing as she thought about all the ways Sasha could help the team. “Does it have to be a wall?”

“No. I’ve done it through doors, so anything thinner than a wall would work, I suppose. I haven’t had much of a chance to practice on other things since I’m only allowed to do it at home.”

Birdie tapped her lips thoughtfully. Sasha shifted uncomfortably, like she was wishing the attention was off her now.

“Welp,” Cabot muttered, “there goes my career in explosives.” If Sasha could make openings without destroying things, Cabot wouldn’t need to blow anything up. But she was reluctantly impressed.

“What about you, Pascal?” Brix asked, having slowed down during Sasha’s presentation to simply bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.

Pascal also looked to his mother for permission. Perhaps she was as intimidating as a mother as she had been as a police chief.

“Go ahead, son,” the former commander said. She glanced around the room and explained, “They’ve had to be so careful because of me and my job. Like many of you know, it’s quite jarring to suddenly be able to speak and act freely.”

“I had to hide my ability, too,” Caliro said. “So did Superfly and E-kat—and others, I’m sure.”

“That would be me,” Sabine said, waving. “Right there in the palace, while my father was making laws against people like us. It really messed me up.”

“I guess we were really lucky to be able to practice our abilities from the time we got them,” Brix said. His face clouded as he thought of his dad, who’d helped the kids nurture their abilities. Brix had moments when he missed Louis more than his heart could handle.

“Some of us were,” Cabot muttered. She’d first discovered her ability when staying in her parents’ loft, and she’d chosen to hide it from them. “Anyway, how about it, Pascal?”

Pascal cleared his throat, but his words came out crackly. “I can air-blast.”

“Air-blast?” Brix asked, beginning to cheer up again. “What’s that?”

“I can direct a powerful blast of air to fend off an attacker,” Pascal explained. “Or blow something away or out of reach, knock someone down, push someone out of harm’s way, or upset the path of an oncoming projectile. Not that I’ve had the opportunity to do any of those things yet. But I envision it sometimes.”

Cabot’s ears perked up. Did he say projectile? And envision? She liked him immediately—he talked like her.

Superfly tapped his chin. “Interesting.” He sounded extremely intrigued. “How about a demonstration?”

“If it’s safe to show you outside, that might be better,” Pascal said. “I don’t want to damage anything on my first day here.”

“Ooh,” said Superfly, even more excited. He glanced at The Librarian. “Are we okay to be in the backyard?”

“Of course,” The Librarian said, but she looked through the front window at the driveway area just in case and saw that a few more security guards had arrived. “We’re not in prison; we merely need to be careful. And our protection crew has increased. Let’s go.”

They filed out back, feeling a chill in the air. Pascal anxiously touched the sides of his natural Afro fade, rubbing his fingers against the direction the tightly shorn hair was growing. Cabot saw the movement and immediately touched her buzzed head, too—the texture gave her comfort and helped her think. Maybe it did the same for Pascal. Another thing they had in common!

“I’m excited to see what you can do,” Cabot said encouragingly, falling into step with him. “You’re quite smart, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I guess so. Thanks.” Pascal blew out a nervous breath, and several people ducked, thinking it was the air blast. “The air doesn’t come from my mouth,” he explained to them, starting to laugh but trying to be polite as the ones who had ducked straightened up again. “It comes from my hands. Don’t worry, I’ll warn you. Stand back.”

Pascal walked up to a twenty-foot-tall tree whose leaves were orange and dry, ready to fall. “I’ll just do a little one.” He clenched his fists and concentrated, then opened them and swept his hands upward. With a loud whoosh, a blast of air burst from his fingertips and hit the tree, sending the leaves flying and the branches shaking and clattering together, suddenly bare.

The crowd of supers clapped and cheered again.

“Can you sustain the length of the blast?” Superfly asked. “Or is it quick and dirty?”

“I’m working on longer blasts,” Pascal said, “but I can do several short ones in a row. It’s been difficult practicing, though. I’ve ruined a few lamps…and my dad’s snow globe collection.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Vince said kindly.

Sabine grinned. “I feel your pain, Pascal.” She explained by letting out dual psi-blasts from her palms, which exploded like fireworks in the sky. “Imagine having a ceiling when these went off unexpectedly.”

Sasha and Pascal snickered. “That’s a great ability,” Sasha told her.

“You two can do a lot of training here,” Cabot said. “You’ll be exceptional in no time. We’ll start today.” Then she checked herself—the guests had just arrived. “If you want.”

Pascal looked at Cabot as if he were noticing her for the first time. Now that he was done performing, he could relax a little and get to know the other kids, and he had a feeling that he’d have a lot in common with this one. “You’re smart, too?” he asked quietly.

Cabot nodded.

Pascal smiled. “Cool.”

“Yeah,” said Cabot. She squelched a grin. Another smart kid! Finally!

“And Vince can put up a shield,” The Librarian was saying. Again the supers clamored for a demonstration.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Vince stepped forward a few paces, then turned around to face the group and motioned for Sasha, Brix, and Birdie to come and stand behind him. They bounded over, thrilled to take part.

“Now, you three come at us,” Vince said, pointing to Caliro, E-kat, and Superfly.

They obliged. Vince cast one hand out in front of him, creating a clear, shimmering shield that was big enough to provide protection to the kids behind him, even though they could be seen through the shield. E-kat went up to it and knocked on it. “It’s like glass,” she said, pounding harder. “Is it breakable?”

“Not so far,” said Vince, but he seemed unsure when looking at E-kat’s muscles. He extended the shield in front of him and moved forward, driving the three “attackers” back, then slowly lifted it in the air to cover the group like a giant umbrella over their heads.

“Whoa!” said Seven. “That’s really cool. How long can you hold it?”

“I’d guess about ten minutes or so. I’ll be working to extend that now that I have a place to practice.”

“Would that umbrella position protect you from falling debris?” Cabot asked. It could be useful when she blew things up. Because even with Sasha around, Cabot knew she’d still need to make things explode every now and then.

“Yes,” said Vince, showing that he could adjust the size larger or smaller before shutting it down. “Rocks, boulders, explosions. Not that I’ve been in too many of those kinds of situations, but I may have experimented a bit as a teen.”

“I see,” Cabot said, rubbing her hands together. “Me likey.”

The group praised the whole family for their talents, and they talked excitedly together about what these added abilities would mean for their team.

As they filed back into the house, they could see a huge semitruck carefully backing down the winding drive, barely missing trees as its driver expertly directed it.

“Hmm,” Cabot said to Pascal as she studied the vehicle. “Either that’s Fuerte using the truck as a Trojan horse full of bad supers and we’re about to get pummeled, or Troy really does know a guy who sells everything.”

Best and Worst

Cami went out to purchase bedding while the rest of them began assembling the bunk beds. It was closing in on midnight Thursday by the time all the new furniture had been placed and the linens had been put on the mattresses and pillows. Everyone collapsed in their new rooms to get a feel for their spaces. The children had claimed the far-back primary suite, which was the largest room, with an enormous walk-in closet and an attached bathroom, with a second bathroom across the hall. There was room for five sets of bunks, enough for the eight kids with a couple to spare.

“This reminds me of Sunrise Foster Home,” Lada said. It felt a little eerie to be back in a room full of bunk beds. The others had created a designated parking spot for her wheelchair next to her bunk. The closet was large enough for everyone’s clothes. Troy promised he’d find each kid some space to store their personal belongings in one of the other rooms. The best part for Lada was bunking with a bunch of kids she actually enjoyed being around and who were supers like her. That made things less Sunrise-like.

Before lights-out, the kids who had parents in the mansion went to say good night to them, leaving Cabot and Seven alone for a moment. They both had upper bunks right next to each other. “It feels strange,” Cabot remarked. Her parents were glaringly absent from this group. Even though Seven’s mom wasn’t present, she was still with them. But Jack and Greta were actively against them.

“Being here, you mean?” asked Seven.

“My parents not being here,” said Cabot. Her bottom lip quivered, and she clammed up. She rarely talked about them, preferring to deal with her angst internally like she always had. But now, perhaps due to tiredness or the recent upheaval, Cabot’s eyes filled. She was the only one not to have at least one parent on her side. The realization hit her hard, and the tears spilled out. “I don’t understand them. They used to be the best. And now…”

Seven was silent, and for a moment Cabot thought he’d drifted off. But then she saw his blankets appear—which meant he was no longer touching them—and heard a creak of his ladder and a footfall, and soon he was climbing up and sitting on her bed. “I’m really sorry, Cab,” he said. “If you want, we can call them sometime. Try to get some answers. I’ll talk to them for you if that’s easier.”

Cabot had been on the verge of talking to them for two months, ever since the newspaper revealed that the five kids were in Estero. They’d called and texted her after that news had broken. She’d ignored their calls, but she’d read the text messages. They’d begged her to meet them. Told her they loved her and wanted to talk. And they’d kept at it ever since, every week or two, even though Cabot never responded.

She squeezed her eyelids shut and made a forlorn noise from her chest, trying desperately to hold in the sobs, but with Seven being so caring, she couldn’t do it. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he scooped her up and hugged her. She faded more than halfway due to his embrace, which would’ve been notable if she wasn’t so sad.

“It’s going to be okay,” Seven soothed. “Maybe we can talk to my mom about them some more and try to do some recon ourselves. Then we can figure out whose side they’re really on.” It was a weak attempt at a solution, because Magdalia had told them that Jack and Greta were not to be trusted—she never shared important information with them, and she was careful to block her thoughts around Jack as much as she could, because she knew they were going straight back to Fuerte with whatever details they gathered. But at this moment, Seven would say anything to make Cabot feel better.

“Okay,” Cabot squeaked. She sniffed hard, having no clue where to find a tissue in the chaotic mess. “Maybe. I don’t want to take too much of your mom’s time, though. She’s so busy.”

“She’ll make time for us,” Seven promised. “Maybe after the election. She’s getting better, I think. Like Troy.”

“My parents have gotten worse.”

Seven used his sleeve to wipe some of Cabot’s tears away. “The others are coming back. Are you okay?”

Cabot nodded. “Thanks.” Seven had become like Cabot’s older brother, especially lately. He’d shown her time and time again what a good-hearted person he was, and he’d done a lot for her. “You’re the best.”

“You are,” said Seven with a grin. He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “When we were at the hideout and I’d just started fading, not knowing what exactly was happening, I’d worry a lot at night. Like, what if I fade so much while I’m sleeping that I disappear completely? I hardly thought about it during the day, but there’s something about nighttime that makes worries worse. It’ll feel better in the morning, Cab. I promise.”

“Thanks.” The story gave Cabot a thread of hope to cling to. “I didn’t know that about you.”

“I never told anyone until now.” Seven smiled and went back to his bed, jumping to it from Cabot’s this time, as the others traipsed in and settled down.

The adults had spread out through the smaller bedrooms, and there were four extra bunks in a spare room in case anyone else decided to join them, though no one could imagine people like Laser Eyes or Matterson or any of the other Fuerte faithfuls switching sides. Those supers didn’t seem to be quite as horrible as Martim or Fuerte, but they also weren’t about to join the good team.

Seven’s blankets disappeared, Cabot closed her eyes, and Tenner rummaged around for his earplugs, while Sasha and Pascal tried to settle into their strange new situation. Brix turned off the light, and soon the exhausted kids were drifting off to sleep, safe and sound. At least for now.

Back at the Palace

On Friday morning, Martim’s eyes fluttered open, and he found himself lying on a bed in a darkened, unfamiliar room. His head pounded and his body ached and itched, and all the memories of the attack at the mansion came flooding forward. His nose was broken and stuffed with gauze, and he’d been breathing through his mouth, which was dry as sawdust. His ribs felt bruised and sore and possibly broken, and he had a vague memory of Lada giving him an electric shock that had left burns on his skin. He had welts from poison ivy around his ankles and on his hands and arms. And he had peanut butter and cake bits and moldy cheese and frosting smeared over him. The frosting had crusted over, and the moldy cheese made him stink. He groaned and gingerly raised himself onto one elbow on the bed, feeling faint. Feeling thirsty and sick to his stomach. Feeling like he’d made a really boneheaded mistake.

“What was I thinking?” he muttered, scratching his stubbly chin. He touched his broken nose with the utmost caution. He’d gone into the mansion to face a dozen supers…alone? What sort of maniac was he? It wasn’t like he was invisible and a terrific fighter against superstrong people. His successes only came when he could attack unseen, but the kids had figured out how to see him. Gingerly he eased up to sitting, testing his aching body to determine how broken it was. Breathing made his ribs hurt, but not excruciatingly.

He surveyed the dimly lit room. The stiff armchair in the corner, the iron tea table, and the ornate light fixtures told him he was in one of the palace guest rooms, where the other supers lived. Somehow he’d arrived here after he’d taken the beating, but he had no memory of that.

He got to his feet and hung on to the bedside table as dark blotches swam before his eyes. They cleared after a moment, and he hobbled to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He had two black eyes to go with his broken nose, and his normally slicked-back black hair was void of moisture and stood on end. Black soot-like splotches stained his skin, no doubt from the near electrocution. He turned on the water and cupped his hands beneath it, receiving another small electric shock that caused a moment of panic, then carefully washed the crusty blood off his face and dabbed it dry with a towel. He was exhausted already.

A short time later he heard a knock at the door and the creak of it opening.

“Martim? You all right?”

Martim grunted. He knew that voice. “Just a minute.” He finished up and slowly went back into the bedroom. “Come in.”

Jack and Greta Stone stepped inside the door. Greta held her doctor bag. They looked tired, and Greta absently massaged her right shoulder. “Good to see you moving around. I fixed you up yesterday afternoon, and we stayed quite late to keep an eye on you. What happened? Did you get jumped? Or touch a downed electrical wire or something?” She seemed mystified by his combination of injuries.

“Not exactly.” Martim explained that Troy and his new band of supers—including the kids and Elena—had taken over the mansion and thrown him out. “Troy said something about it being his turn to have the place for a while. They woke me from a sound sleep.”

“They beat you up?” Jack asked, concerned.

“Well…” Martim grimaced as Greta removed the gauze packing from one nostril. “Ouch! Not at first.”

Jack flopped into the armchair with a groan, not hiding the annoyed look on his face. He’d never been close with Martim. “What did you do?”

“I went back to fight for my home.”

“It’s half Troy’s, though.” Greta pried the packing out of the other nostril, making Martim squeal in pain. “Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry.

Martim pulled away from her, then winced from the movement and held his ribs. He told them everything he could remember.

“The guards said E-kat and The Librarian brought you here,” Greta said. She flashed a light up his nostrils. “Did you see Cabot?”

“Yes. She’s a fighter. A little too smart, too.” He narrowed his eyes. She’d been the one to start sticking things to him.

“Does she have an ability?” Jack asked casually.

“Hmm. Maybe?” Martim said slowly, as if he were questioning his recollection. He searched his memory and landed on Cabot doing something unusual at the museum break-in, but he’d been dealing with the pig’s porcupine quills at the time. “But she didn’t do anything supernatural to me yesterday. So maybe not.”

Jack and Greta exchanged a swift glance and didn’t comment. They hadn’t observed an ability when Cabot had stayed with them, and when they’d gently broached the subject, Cabot had told them she thought she would never get one. Greta put her flashlight away and pulled out a few bandages and rolls of gauze. “The bleeding has stopped, but I’ll leave these with you in case it starts up again. Whatever you do, don’t bump your nose. And take it easy for a while. You’ve got a couple of bruised ribs, so it’ll take a month for them to fully heal. Ice will help in the short term, then heat after a few days.” She narrowed her gaze and warned, “Stay away from the mansion. Let it go for now. You are vastly outnumbered.”

“I could get a team to—”

“The team has more important things to do right now,” Jack said. “Election. Remember?”

Martim grimaced. “So I’m stuck in this hallway with the other supers? Why can’t I have the suite The Librarian used on the top floor?”

“Maybe you’re just not special enough,” Jack said tersely. “Besides, someone new moved in there.”

Greta picked up her bag. “Fuerte said it’s because he’s mad at you for getting beat up when we need you. Big moves coming soon. The election is in eleven days.”

“I know, I know.” Martim was too sore and too tired to argue. “I got mad and messed up.”

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you admit something like that,” Greta said. “It sounds good on you.”

Martim snorted, then grabbed his nose in pain, making it worse. His eyes watered, and he cursed under his breath.

Jack checked his watch. He got up from the chair and moved to open the door, impatient to leave, and perhaps trying to air out the moldy stench. He inched out into the hallway.

“See you soon, Martim.” Greta exited after Jack.

Then Jack poked his head back in. “Almost forgot. Fuerte wants to meet today at two. He’s got a new super.”

“Oh.” Martim narrowed his eyes, calculating. “So the new super took my penthouse suite? That’s not fair. At all.” A twinge of jealousy mingled with the pain in his rib cage.

The Stones ignored his whining. “We’ll have someone bring a wheelchair by to help you get there,” Greta said.

“Thanks,” Martim muttered as Jack shut the door behind him. He closed his eyes, exhausted. “With the way we’re losing supers around here, I guess we could use a new one…or twenty.”

A Meeting

Jack and Greta left the palace on foot. A few blocks away, they met their private driver, who would take them to the Estero Marina, not far from Magdalia’s home. “My muscles are sore today,” Greta said in mock agony as she put on dark glasses and wrapped a scarf around her head. “Not used to the heavy lifting.”

“Mine too. But we did everything we had to do.”

“Well,” said Greta, “almost.” She glanced angrily at the tether around her ankle.

“There’s got to be someone who can help us,” Jack said quietly.

“One would think,” Greta said. “But not so far.”

When they arrived at the marina, Jack slipped the driver a generous tip. “Grab a cup of coffee while you wait for our return. It shouldn’t be more than an hour.” Then Jack donned sunglasses and put a fedora on his head. He pulled the brim down low as he stepped out of the vehicle, and the two set off for the docks.

“Are you sure about this?” Jack asked his wife, glancing all around the parking lot. There were a few large vehicles, including yachts on trailers, and several dumpsters. Things enemies could easily hide behind.

“We have to, Jack,” Greta replied. “We’re done with this nonsense. It’s over. I’m checked out.” She looked at her hands, covered with scratches from packing and moving boxes and furniture. Two fingernails had broken and been hastily filed down.

“It’s not going to be over if we can’t figure out how to lose the tethers.”

“I’m working on it,” Greta said tersely. “That’s tonight’s plan. It’s not easy tracking down favors from my hospital days—lots of doctors have moved elsewhere. Maybe I can find someone still working at the fire department who owes me one…” She sighed. “I can’t believe the ring cutters didn’t work.”

“Are you thinking something bigger, like the machine firefighters use to rip open vehicles after serious crashes?” Jack frowned. “I thought the fire department was as corrupt and in Fuerte’s pocket as the police department is.”

Greta laughed bitterly. “The Jaws of Life would devour our entire legs. But the firefighters should have some other tool for smaller jobs. I’m hoping…”

“How did Troy do it? Did you have a chance to ask Mags?”

“Magdalia doesn’t know how he did it. Or at least she’s not telling us. You never got a read on her about that?”

“No,” said Jack. “She either put up a mental wall or she simply doesn’t know. Not surprising. I don’t think she talks to him much.”

If Cabot would only answer her phone, they might be able to find out. But Greta didn’t blame her daughter. They’d done her wrong multiple times. Perhaps unforgivably. She shook her head. “What a mess we’ve made.”

Jack paused before stepping onto the dock and looked doubtfully at his tether and the edge of the water just a foot away. “You’re positive about the boundary?”

Greta sighed and walked onto the dock above the water. “At bare minimum, Estero’s maritime boundary extends out twelve nautical miles. Do you want me to go over it again?”

Jack shook his head and reluctantly followed.

“It’s not like we have a choice. We didn’t give Quinn much notice, and this is where she was stationed this morning.”

“I know.” They went past several slips to a small yacht called Eyewitness. Already on board were reporter Quinn Sun and a camera operator from the local news station.

“We said no cameras,” Greta warned, stopping short of boarding. “This is anonymous, or we’re not doing it.”

“The camera is for other purposes,” Quinn assured her. “I did my morning set from here today. And whenever we go out, we keep the camera trained on Magdalia’s house, hoping to pick up some activity. We three are going to speak inside, no cameras.” She turned to the operator. “Can you cut until we’re out of range, please?”

“Of course.” The guy shut down the camera, and Greta and Jack came aboard at the stern. They looked around uneasily at the other boats in the nearby slips. None of those boats were occupied…at least not that they could see.

People milled around the marina and strolled the docks, which made Greta uncomfortable. If anything happened, they were trapped. They could swim, but not indefinitely. Or Greta could pilot the boat if needed, though she’d probably have to fight off the captain first. “Is the captain on the bridge?”

“Ready and waiting,” Quinn said.

Greta relaxed slightly.

Quinn invited them inside the yacht’s dining room and closed the sliding glass door behind them as the engine roared to life. The boat began to pull out of the slip.

“Remember—we need to stay close to shore because of these things,” Jack told Quinn, pointing at his and Greta’s ankle tethers. Despite Greta’s reassurances, he was nervous about being on the boat. Fuerte had boldly stated three years ago that even stepping into the water could set off the tether alerts. But Greta had challenged Fuerte with logic: coastal countries’ borders extended miles into the water, so if they went swimming or for a boat ride, they would still be in Estero. And what about when the tides went in and out every day—did that change the location of the border in his eyes? How would anyone know if they stepped in water or were on the edge of the beach—did they keep a tide chart? Was he saying the border of Estero was fluid? How would the GPS in the tethers know that? It was all nonsense, according to Greta. Fuerte had grumbled and blown off her challenges with a dismissive wave. She was too intelligent to fight with. Fuerte preferred his threats to go unchallenged.

“Our tethers won’t cause any alerts if the boat stays near the shore,” Greta said firmly, more to Jack than to Quinn. Though she, despite her attitude about it, was uneasy, too. She and Jack had taken a trip the previous morning to a sketchy jeweler to use their ring cutter. But the manual tool had broken on Greta’s tether. When the jeweler brought out a power version of the cutter, the motor ended up overheating—it wasn’t strong enough to get through the ankle band. They’d had to pay the angry jeweler for the tools, and they’d been left scrambling to find someone else trustworthy to remove the tethers. But packing and selling their things over the past few days had taken longer than expected, and then Fuerte ordered them to look after Martim and his injuries, which had totally messed up the plan.

“I’ve informed the captain to remain close,” Quinn said. “There’s no need to worry.”

A steward approached from a stairwell on the opposite side of the room carrying a tray of drinks and snacks, causing Jack and Greta to swiftly turn their backs so their faces couldn’t be identified. They trusted the news team, but they were beyond careful with anyone else. The steward arranged the refreshments on the table, then disappeared.

Quinn, Jack, and Greta sat down. The Stones kept their glasses and head coverings on. There was a small black machine on the table that had a microphone attached. Outside on the deck, as the boat began to follow the coastline, the camera operator moved the camera, aiming to get the best shot of Magdalia’s property, and started recording again.

“We appreciate you meeting us away from the TV studio,” Greta said. “We have to take precautions.”

“Of course,” said Quinn. She reached for the small machine. “What sort of information would you like to share? I don’t usually do off-camera interviews. This is a recorder that will alter your voices. Is that acceptable?”

“You may use it for your own personal accuracy in your reporting,” Greta said, “but you do not have our permission to play any part of it in public—not on TV or the internet.”

Quinn’s brow furrowed, and she blew out a consternated breath. “You’re not making this easy for me.”

“We understand you’d prefer an interview out in the open with names and quotes,” Jack said, putting a few canapés onto a little plate. “But our safety would be in jeopardy. Anonymous or nothing. No camera, no voice recording made public. All right?”

“Okay.” Quinn didn’t look pleased. She messed around with the controls, turning off the voice-altering option, then looked up. “I’m starting the recording. For my purposes only.” She tapped a button on the machine, and a green light began blinking slowly.

Jack poured a glass of sparkling water and passed it to Greta, then poured a second one for himself. “We have some deeply concerning information. To give it to you directly would implicate us, so instead we need you to discover it.”

“Concerning information about what?” asked Quinn. “Or whom?”

“It’s about the president,” said Greta. “He’s making some interesting moves that could change the trajectory of the election.”

“What do you feel is the current trajectory?” Quinn asked. She took notes despite the recording going on, glancing up at the two occasionally.

“Ms. Palacio has the momentum behind her,” said Jack. “I don’t think that’s news to you. She’s got an excellent chance of winning.”

“Mm,” said Quinn. “What can you tell me about the president and these interesting moves he’s making?”

Jack and Greta, barely touching their snacks, exchanged an uneasy glance. Jack leaned forward and peered at Quinn’s notebook. “No descriptions of us,” he warned.

“Don’t even say there are two of us,” Greta added.

Quinn put the notebook on the table, holding in her exasperation. “Very well. Why did you reach out to me now after three years of working with the president? Did something happen to change your loyalties?”

Jack shifted. “Of course not.” They’d reached out to her before many times…anonymously. This just happened to be the first time they had identified themselves.

Greta looked only slightly more at ease with the notebook on the table. “Look. You’ve reported on the president’s strange nighttime flights. And you’ve had Sabine Fuerte on your show, telling you all sorts of things about the supernatural people President Fuerte has been recruiting.”

Quinn leaned forward slightly. “Yes. What about them? We’ve been following the movements of a few of them for some time.”

“Keep an eye on the new supers Fuerte is recruiting,” Greta said. “There’s one who is many levels more dangerous than the rest.”

“Dangerous to whom?” asked Quinn.

“To the citizens of Estero and to the stability of our country.” Greta hesitated, then added, “You need to be careful.”

Quinn looked up sharply. “I do? Is there a threat against me?”

“Not physically, as far as I know,” said Greta. “And I’m unsure if it’s against all media or you specifically. But you’re the ones with the ability to stop the president from succeeding in his unethical plan. You must be clear-sighted. Mindful. Attentive. Don’t let your guard down when it comes to President Fuerte.”

“This new super has the ability to change everything,” Jack said gravely. He hesitated, wanting to tell Quinn more, like they’d originally intended. To tell her everything he knew about the new super’s ability and Fuerte’s sinister plan. But the fear of Fuerte finding out before they could get these tethers off stopped him cold. Quinn would have to discover it. And she was a good journalist. It didn’t seem too hard for her to figure out what the new super’s ability was and imagine how he could use it. Jack looked up. “All we can say is that no one will see it coming until it’s too late.”

Too Late

When the TV station’s boat returned to its slip in the marina, the Stones scoped out the dock through the yacht’s windows. “See?” Greta said gently. “I told you. We’re fine.”

Jack let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Quinn,” he called over his shoulder. “And good luck.”

“I appreciate the information,” Quinn replied. “Vague as it may be. Are you sure there’s nothing more you can give me? A name? Description?”

“I’m afraid not,” Greta said firmly.

Quinn glanced at Jack, who seemed like he’d be more forthcoming. “Not even a hint about what Fuerte’s plan is and how he’s going to carry it off?” She almost sounded like she didn’t think they were being serious.

Jack shook his head. “We gave you several important hints. Listen to the tape—I know you’ll figure it out.”

Quinn set her lips in a firm line. “All right, then. We’ll get a reporter on this and start digging.”

The cameraman pivoted so Jack and Greta could walk past without being filmed. After checking the marina again, the two stepped from the stern onto the dock. Greta texted their chauffeur to let him know they were ready to be picked up as they started toward the parking lot.

When they reached the lot, they breathed easier. Next on the schedule: sit through the two p.m. meeting at the palace to learn whatever they could, then find a way to get the tethers off. By this evening, they’d be begging for forgiveness from Cabot at the mansion—it had been nice of Martim to tell them where she was. And then they’d get out of Estero.

As they crossed the lot, Greta pulled out her phone and started to text Magdalia, wanting to let her know about the new super. But while she looked down to type, four of Fuerte’s security grunts dressed in black suits swarmed out from behind a large watercraft on a trailer, coming toward them. Jack gasped. Greta looked up and swore under her breath. She hit send on the unfinished message and swiftly calculated angles and distance to an escape route. Could they make it to the road? The guards ran toward them, weapons drawn.

“What do we do?” Jack whispered. “Which way?” The marina was at their backs, giving the goons the advantage. They’d have to run toward the men, somehow slip past them, and beat them up the hill to the street. But then what? Would their chauffeur be there yet?

The guards were heading full speed toward them. “Back to the yacht!” Greta said, hating the option but seeing no other choice—they were trapped. She and Jack whirled around and pounded down the dock. The camera operator was unloading equipment from the vessel as Greta and Jack flew toward him.

“Help! Can you get us out of here?” Jack begged. Not waiting for an answer, he and Greta leaped onto the boat. They tripped over the equipment bags and ran toward the glass door that would take them inside the dining room, where they’d done the interview. The door slid open, and they stumbled inside, racing past Quinn.

“What’s going on?” Quinn cried as Greta and Jack found the ladder leading to the bridge.

“Tell the captain to hit it!” Greta called back over her shoulder. “Incoming goons are after us—help!” Then she screeched, “Hide that recorder!”

Quinn lunged for her voice recorder and shoved it into her jacket pocket as the four Fuerte guards vaulted onto the yacht, upsetting the TV camera tripod and knocking the whole setup off the dock into the sea with a splash.

“Hey!” yelled the cameraman.

The goons tore after the Stones, pounding up the ladder.

Hearing them coming, Greta abandoned the plan to take over the captain’s controls. Instead, she and Jack raced to the boat’s upper deck and hid around a corner. Greta pulled a knife, ready to fight, and quickly tried to wipe her phone.

But the guards were right behind, and there was no time. Greta shoved her phone into her bra as Jack slammed his fist into the nose of the first one. Then Greta sent her knife slicing through the air into the second’s shoulder. She tripped the third as he rounded the corner. He went sprawling into the second, knocking both of them down, but the fourth guard grabbed Greta’s outstretched wrist, twisted it behind her back, and shoved her into Jack, who was winding up to punch the first guard again.

The two hit the deck, then scrambled to get into a defensive position. “Don’t do this, guys,” Jack said, breathing hard and wiping blood from his forehead. “Come on. You know us.”

“We thought we did,” the fourth guard said, to the tune of the second guard screaming in pain from the knife embedded deep in his shoulder. “Now we know you’re the media leak. Guess you should’ve stayed off the water.”

Greta grimaced and pulled a second knife. Jack sprang to his feet and avoided a kick from the fourth guard. Nimbly he dodged the others and slammed into the first, pushing him to the low railing and flipping him over it for a plunge into the water. By now the third guard had gotten up—he ran at Jack, sending a right hook to his face and knocking the smaller man to the deck in a heap. Greta flung the new knife at the third guard, but he dodged it and the weapon sailed over the railing. Then he ran at her and headbutted her into the wall of the bridge. Greta collapsed, the wind knocked out of her. The guard picked her up, wrenched her arms behind her back, and cuffed her wrists. He dropped her to the deck on her face and joined the other two remaining guards in getting Jack handcuffed as well.

Quinn Sun and the captain came up cautiously to see what was happening. The fourth guard whirled around and slammed into Quinn, sending her sprawling. The recorder flew out of her pocket and skidded across the deck toward Greta and Jack. Greta lunged for it but, with her arms cuffed behind her back, had no way to pick it up. She tried to grab it between her teeth, but it was too far away. Instead she rolled on top of it, but the second guard, with the knife in his shoulder, shoved her off the recorder and kicked it away from her. Then he picked it up and pocketed it.

“That’s my property!” Quinn said.

“Not anymore,” the second guard said, glaring at her. “It’s Fuerte’s now.”

“The station will sue,” Quinn warned.

“Go for it,” said the guard, like he knew it wouldn’t matter. Fuerte would listen to it long before they’d have to return it, and that was only if the judge didn’t see things their way.

Reading the guard’s thoughts, Jack muttered under his breath, regretting everything. There was no way out of this. They were done.

The captain bellowed for everyone to get off his boat. The first guard hollered and splashed from the water as he tried to hoist himself onto the dock. The three goons on the yacht pulled the two Stones to their feet and dragged them away. Greta caught Jack’s eye. I’m sorry, she thought, hoping Jack was picking up on it.

Jack held her gaze for a moment, then closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. “Not your fault,” he whispered.

Quinn Sun, rubbing her bruised hip and touching her face to check for blood, limped after them, calling for the steward to bring her an ice pack. The guards took Jack and Greta past the furious camera operator, down the dock to the parking lot.

“Are you okay?” the camera guy asked Quinn.

“Yeah. Are you? Did you get footage?”

“I’m fine,” he said, fuming, “but they knocked our camera into the water. That’s the second one Fuerte’s people have destroyed!” He watched as the guards brought Jack and Greta to a black SUV. “Too bad for those two, though. Did they at least give you anything good?”

“Not much,” said Quinn. “Vague warnings against Fuerte and a new super—a lead that’ll take time to dig into. They seemed ultraparanoid, and now we know it was for good reason, which makes me more curious about their accusations. But without the recording, I can’t relisten to the clues they insisted they hinted to me—I’ll have to rely on memory. And with the election coming, we need all hands on deck at the station. I’ll put an intern on it, though, and we’ll see if this story has legs.”

Getting Acquainted

The people at the mansion spent Friday organizing and cleaning their spaces. The next day, while the adults discussed election strategies, the eight children lounged beneath the large trees in the backyard getting to know one another better. Colorful leaves drifted down, landing on and around them. The electric fence buzzed in the background. There were no neighboring mansions in sight due to the dense woods, and the young supers didn’t have to be quiet here. Puerco snuffled and snorted in the leaves and started digging in the dirt near the base of the tree.

Birdie gazed thoughtfully through the great room window, where the twins’ mother was slapping the sofa cushions into shape. “Are we supposed to call your mom something different now that she’s not the police commander anymore?”

“I think she’s trying to decide,” Pascal said. He picked up a curled dead leaf and crunched it. “It’s sad because she earned that rank of commander through years of hard work. And I guess they took it away from her. She gave up a lot to help us.”

“That is sad,” Birdie said, eyes wide. “Glad I asked. She really has made a big sacrifice—for the whole team, but for me personally, too, when she helped me not go to prison. It’s got to feel awful.”

The others murmured and nodded, and they agreed to avoid asking the former commander about it so she could think it through.

After a while, Sasha propped herself on her elbows and looked at the other kids, sizing them up. “Lada is the oldest, right? Then Birdie?”

“We’re both fourteen,” Birdie said a bit defensively. She loved Lada but didn’t like being second in anything. “But yes,” she conceded, “Lada’s older.”

“And generally more important,” Lada said, popping her chair’s front wheels up to balance on the back ones. Birdie frowned playfully and tossed some leaves at Lada. Lada’s body overreacted to the unexpected movement, and the chair dropped down to all fours.

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” Birdie said sheepishly.

“No harm done.” Lada winked at her, and when her body had recovered from being startled, she began again with her chair balancing.

“Seven is next oldest,” Brix said. “He’ll be fourteen in a couple months.”

“I’m thirteen,” Tenner said. “And a half.”

“Paithoon is twelve,” Cabot said, checking the time on her phone, “and I’m eleven point seven one.”

Pascal frowned. “Seventy-one percent of three hundred sixty-five days is not an even number.”

“I’m including time of birth,” Cabot said, secretly delighted Pascal called her on it. “Rounded to the minute, of course. I’m not a robot.”

Pascal grinned. “So it’s been eleven years, two hundred and fifty-nine days, three hours, and thirty-six minutes since you were born?”

“Close enough,” Cabot said carelessly, but she wanted him to be right even though a minute had passed, thus messing up the numbers.

Lada and Tenner raised their eyebrows. “Has Cabot finally met her match?” Tenner asked.

“It’s about time,” Cabot said, sort of insulting everyone else’s intelligence, and also sort of making a pun about time of birth, but nobody but Pascal got the joke, and the insulted ones took it well.

All of it had gone over Brix’s head as he waited impatiently to report his age. “Brix is ten and a half,” he said loudly to get the subject back on track.

“What about you two?” Lada asked the twins.

“We’re twelve, too,” said Pascal, opting not to go all math-bananas on it. “Where has Paithoon been? Why doesn’t he live with the group?” He and Sasha had met the boy two months ago at the monastery lawn meeting, but they hadn’t seen him since.

“He stays with Magdalia,” Lada said.

“I wish he could live here, though,” Seven said. “He could do a lot of climbing in these trees. He needs to train. He can’t do anything cooped up in Magdalia’s house with the press cameras surrounding them constantly.”

“Why don’t we invite him to come over?” Cabot asked. She pulled out her phone. “I’ll text him. He must be lonely hanging out with his tutor while Magdalia is working so hard on the campaign. Maybe he can come and stay with us until this is over.” Her thumbs flew over the letters, and she sent the request.

Within seconds Paithoon replied: YES! Save me from this chaos! I can come along with E-kat tonight. E-kat worked as Magdalia’s bodyguard, but most nights she came home to be with the team.

Can you stay until after the election? Ask Magdalia.

I’d love to! Paithoon replied a little too quickly to have actually asked her. Cabot read the conversation aloud to the others, then video-recorded the group’s excited reaction and sent it back to Paithoon so he’d know he was adored by all. After that, the two worked out the details with E-kat and Magdalia.

While they waited for Paithoon to arrive, Birdie posed a question to the group. “If you could go anywhere safely, without worry, where would you go?”

“Back to the hideout,” Tenner said immediately. He missed his beach. “But I’d want you all to come, too.” Then he frowned. “It wouldn’t be as fun now that we know what electricity can do.”

“Remember life before flushing toilets?” Brix asked. “And toilet paper?”

Tenner’s smile faded slightly, but he didn’t change his answer. He felt sure they could take at least a few rolls home with them, which they could use on special occasions.

“I’d visit E-kat’s country to see where I came from,” Lada said.

“Just don’t get caught—things are worse there,” Brix reminded her. He thought for a moment. “I want to go to the Parkour Academy.”

“The what?” asked Tenner.

“It’s a big gym where you train to do tumbling and gymnastics and cool, dangerous jumps and stunts and stuff. Like a ninja. I saw a billboard for one in Estero, and I looked it up online. They have their own outdoor park, too, with buildings and stuff to climb and jump from.”

“That sounds cool, Brixy,” said Birdie. “Perfect for you.” She paused politely in case someone else wanted to speak, then shared: “I’m desperate to go to the zoo. I need to be with more animals to improve my ability. It’s hard to train here with only songbirds and squirrels. And my raven is pretty much at the top of his game already.” She pointed to the tree next to them. The raven had found her after their big move, and he hung around, enjoying himself. “The wasps and the snake and Puerco are all pretty much there, too.”

“Maybe Magdalia can set up a private visitors’ day to take us,” Seven suggested, “like she did at the panther sanctuary for Paithoon and me.”

“Probably not until after the election,” Birdie mused. “She doesn’t have time.”

“I know where the key is,” Cabot announced. “Maybe we can sneak in at night.” She grinned impishly.

Birdie sat up. “The key to what?”

“To the zoo. The original giant key, I mean,” she added. “It’s at the library on display in the artifacts section. It probably doesn’t work now, though. I guess there used to be a grand gate at the entrance to the property, connected to a fence that encircled the whole zoo. But then they expanded and built a new entrance with a parking lot and stuff. And a normal-sized key or more likely an electronic one instead of that cartoonish gigantic one. Imagine carrying that in your pocket all day.”

“You’d stab yourself when you sat down,” Brix said, giggling.

“Oh.” Birdie slumped. “So not a real key.”

“I want to go to university,” Cabot said, turning back to the game. “And learn things from really smart professors, and try to stump them with hard questions.” She looked at the newcomers. “What do you two wish you could do?”

“I want to travel the world,” Sasha said grandly. “My mom promised we could go on a trip once things settled down after the election and she could take time off from work. But I’m not so sure now, since Mom and Dad both got fired. They’re talking about having to sell the house because that palace press release told everyone where we lived.”

“That’s rough,” Tenner said. “Sorry.”

“I’d probably go to university, too,” Pascal said, not wanting to dwell on negative stuff. He glanced sideways at Cabot.

“We could be roommates!” Cabot exclaimed.

“Yeah!” Pascal said. He leaned in, his eyes starting to dance. “I want to be a doctor.”

“I—” A lump rose in Cabot’s throat. She’d always wanted to be a doctor, too. Like her mom. But maybe not anymore. “That’s so cool,” she squeaked instead. “You’d be good at that.” Her voice trembled a little. Seven, next to her, put his hand on her arm to let her know he understood. Cabot faded 66.5 percent.

Birdie noticed. They’d all been fading to varying degrees when Seven touched them lately, even when he wasn’t focused on hiding them. Brix even became transparent now when Seven actually concentrated on hiding him—you could only tell he was there if you knew what to look for. But now it was painfully clear every time Seven made a kind gesture to comfort someone, which he did a lot more often than anyone had realized. Was Cabot okay? Maybe Seven had brushed against her accidentally.

“What about you, Seven?” asked Birdie. “What do you wish you could do?”

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. Being forced to hide wasn’t nearly as difficult for him as it had been for Birdie, so he didn’t have a great longing for freedom—he could get away easily enough. “I guess I just want to stay focused. Get through this election and make sure my mom wins.” He hesitated. “Otherwise we might never get to do anything fun again.”

A Formidable Team

Once Paithoon arrived with his suitcase, the kids were ready for a backyard training session, still remaining safely away from the buzzing electric fence. The forgotten five and Lada had all continued to grow stronger in their abilities the past two months. Lada could teleport with her wheelchair or even with another kid now. Cabot rarely had trouble conjuring up her green glowing eyes these days unless she was really stressed out. Tenner’s senses were as sharp as they could be, and Brix had recently put an intense focus on grip strength and climbing in addition to bouncing so he could use the two confidently together—kind of like what apes and monkeys did.

It was important for Paithoon and the twins to work toward becoming as adept at their abilities as the other kids were so they could protect themselves while dealing serious damage to any enemies attacking them.

When Superfly saw that the younger group was training, he came outside and went straight up to Pascal. “I’ve been thinking about your wind power,” he said. “I believe you and I could work together pretty well. Once I’m flying, you could keep me airborne for longer amounts of time, or send me higher than I’m able to go alone.” He puffed out his chest a little, as he had a habit of viewing himself and his ability as quite important. But he’d mellowed since his early days in Fuerte’s palace. And he was basically asking for help to make his ability stronger, so he couldn’t be too obnoxious.

“Interesting.” Pascal nodded thoughtfully. “How does your ability work?”

Superfly explained the magnetic waves of energy that repelled his body and allowed him to fly. “The repelling nature of my ability can only push me so far off the ground. Think of two magnets lying on a table that have the wrong ends pointed at each other. If you push one magnet toward the other, it’ll move it backward, but that power doesn’t extend infinitely—there’s a range. The repelled magnet will stop moving after a short distance.”

“I see,” said Pascal. “So your ability allows you to fly, but low to the ground. Pointing my ability at you once you’re in the air will help give you momentum.”

“Exactly,” said Superfly.

“That ought to work with Brixy, too,” Cabot said. “When he’s swinging and bouncing, you could launch him to higher heights than he could achieve on his own. It’ll be great practice for you, Pascal. Having that extra resistance of pushing those two will strengthen you fast.”

“I’m in,” said Brix. “Want to try?”

The three went to the side yard, where there was a long stretch for Superfly to move without hitting the electric fence. Brix headed for the trees next to the garage for a variety of things to climb.

Meanwhile, Tenner and Lada worked with Sasha on creating a larger portal opening that would hold longer. They explained the importance of concentration and focus as she attempted to open a passage through the thick exterior house wall in order to get inside. “You’ve got three things to increase,” Tenner said. “Depth—pushing the portal through a thick surface. Size—expanding the circumference, or making the oval big enough for multiple people to pass through at once. And time—in this case, time is a pressure against you physically, because it probably takes a lot of strength to hold the portal open for longer periods.”

“That’s why I’m going to train you on upper-body strength,” Lada said. “Elena and The Librarian are out getting equipment for us.”

Over in the backyard where there was a grouping of trees, Seven and Birdie mentored Paithoon as he extended his claws and took on the trunks, racing to the heights of the swaying branches. “The more you use your claws, the more your finger calluses will build up,” Birdie said. “These first few days will be hard on your fingertips—they might hurt and bleed a bit. But you’re strengthening them. To complement, we’ll have you practice leaping from tree to tree if you feel comfortable giving that a try.”

Soon Paithoon was yowling like a panther as he leaped from one tree to the next. He scraped and clawed for a strong hold as he slid partway down, then did it again. Seven gave him some of his and Brix’s techniques to try—moves they used to do back at the hideout when collecting bird eggs on the steep cliffs—that would help him increase his core strength, which would make it easier to do long jumps.

In the side yard, Cabot coached Pascal as he air-blasted Brix and Superfly with strong gusts of wind to affect their movement. But the blasts were too harsh and sent Brix tumbling and falling to the ground, where he probably sprained his wrist, but within a few minutes it felt like new again. “Think about light switches for a minute,” Cabot told Pascal. “Some only turn a light on and off. Others have a dimmer—you can adjust the amount of light slowly from dim to bright. Right now you’re able to use your ability like the on-off switch. It’s great that you have this much power, and there will be times you’ll need to turn it on full blast immediately to stop a foe—going from zero to a hundred in a second, using a narrow stream of air. But the real skill in working with others is to be like the dimmer switch, to gradually roll into the blast and have control over the amount of air you’re using. Start with less to work with the existing momentum that Superfly and Brix already have as they jump or fly upward. Then let it build from there like a gentle wave. But if Brix falls and you’re beneath him, turn the power on full blast and slowly lower it, because his momentum is going the wrong way.”

“Got it, boss,” Pascal said, determined. He started again.

By evening, Sasha still couldn’t make the portal in the wall deep enough to get inside the house, but she’d gotten through several layers, expanded the diameter to over six feet, and been able to hold the portal open almost ten seconds—a very successful day. Paithoon had become more confident with his claws and improved in agility and speed. He continued to practice jumping from one tree to another, sticking with the closest ones for now and staying fairly low to the ground in case he missed. Brix was there for a quick healing when Paithoon twisted his ankle, and he was back at it in minutes. The smile on his face told them all how much he’d wanted to do what his body was yearning for.

By the time Paithoon’s claws were in too much pain to do anything else, and the rest of the group was worn out, Elena and The Librarian returned with a set of workout bars. Troy and E-kat dug the anchor holes in the ground while Elena mixed up a bucket of cement, and before dark the bars were set in place, tied with ropes so they wouldn’t tilt while the cement dried overnight.

The kids went inside to clean up and eat dinner and talk about the progress they had made with the adults. As they were eating, former commander Collazo spoke up. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since we arrived, trying to deal with what has happened to me, and to us, our family. Things have changed, and we must change with them. It’s going to be hard for me to get used to, but you must all call me Viviana now. Kids, you too. All right? I’m not the commander anymore.”

“We’re sorry for everything you’re going through, Viviana,” Birdie told her, trying out the name. “We know how hard you worked for that. It’s wrong that they took it away.”

“I appreciate your kindness, Birdie,” Viviana said. “But there are other things being done in Estero that are many times worse than me losing my rank. Let’s move forward focusing on changing those.” Her words rang with finality, as if she were finished speaking of the matter.

Eventually the dinnertime discussion turned to things they would do once the election was over, and Birdie brought up the zoo again. She’d done everything she could to train the animals she’d met here in Estero: the wasps, the snake, Puerco, the monastery cats, the police horses, and the dogs that lived at the palace, with which she’d only had a few fleeting moments to connect. But she craved more interaction, and she couldn’t stop thinking about how much she could accomplish with a single trip to the zoo.

When she’d lived at the hideout, she’d had countless sea creatures to discover and speak to. Here, she was resigned to getting to know the neighborhood rodents and countless, mostly useless birds. “I just want to see all the animals you have seen,” she said to Paithoon and the twins. “And have a chance to interact.”

“Why do you choose the zoo?” Paithoon asked. “The cat sanctuary is better. The cats there are happier.”

“For one, I want the variety of animals,” Birdie said. “But to be honest, it’s mostly because cats don’t seem to like me much. So the zoo would be better.” She leaned in and whispered so the adults couldn’t hear, “I’m tempted to sneak out.”

“We can all sneak out,” Cabot said. “We just have to figure out what the best disguise would be for the zoo.” She started searching the zoo’s website.

“We could go as bears,” said Brix.

“I don’t think that would work,” said Cabot, smiling but also recalling the zoo article Elena had read aloud the other day. She pulled up the “Temporary Exhibits” page. “But I do have another idea.” She pursed her lips as her thoughts developed. An outing as a group could really boost everyone’s morale as well as make them all closer. And it would solve Birdie’s predicament and, well, stop her from whining about the zoo all the time. It was such a simple plan that Cabot wasn’t sure why she hadn’t thought of it before. “I need to do a little research…and get the okay to use The Librarian’s credit card.”

Mistakes

Jack and Greta found themselves gagged and shackled to bars in opposite corners of the palace dungeon cell. They couldn’t conspire or attempt a breakout, but Jack could read Greta’s mind once she let down her mental wall, and they tried to communicate with their eyes. Unfortunately, after two long, restless nights sleeping in painfully awkward positions, they still had no solution to their current problem of incarceration.

Fuerte is playing a mental game with us by not coming down here, Greta thought, looking at Jack.

Jack, keeping an eye on the security team, nodded slightly to signal that he agreed. Fuerte was punishing them. Ever since they’d been brought here after the incident on the yacht, no one other than the guards had seen or spoken to them. A few times a day, they unshackled Greta and Jack and removed their gags to allow them to eat, stretch, and use the cell bathroom. Whenever Jack’s gag was off, he tried to incorporate key words into his conversations with the guards to let Greta know he’d understood certain important thoughts of hers.

The palace interior guards were a bit less grunt-like than the ones who roamed the city or worked as the president’s bodyguards. Most of the dungeon team had known Jack and Greta for years, and they treated the two prisoners with respect—the same way the Stones had treated them. Jack, who’d always been particularly charming and friendly to the staff, didn’t change his demeanor toward them just because he was locked up, and he and Greta complied with all of their requests. It set the guards at ease. Meanwhile, Jack gathered information from their thoughts. They didn’t seem to know anything about Fuerte’s plans for them.

Jack had never been honest with Fuerte about his mind-reading ability. Of course the president had learned about Jack’s ability to read minds in the newspapers fifteen years before, when the eight criminals had been exposed after trying to steal the Stone Crown from his palace. But there’d been only a passing mention of it in the article. When Jack and Greta were captured and imprisoned with Elena three years ago, and Fuerte had summoned them to talk about joining his team, they’d decided to see what their options were. They’d imagined Fuerte wanted Greta for her intelligence and her piloting skills. But Jack would have to play this very carefully. Not everyone wanted to put their trust in a criminal mind reader.

“I catch occasional fleeting thoughts from people in close proximity to me,” Jack had told Fuerte, downplaying his ability, “but only if they are extremely gregarious people…like Magdalia Palacio, for example.” At that time, Jack had had no idea that Magdalia would be heading to Estero soon, much less eventually running for president against Fuerte. But luck had been with him. He’d continued to explain, “Magdalia’s whole aura is friendly and open, and that makes it easier to pick up on her thoughts. But it’s impossible with people who are closed off or guarded.” He’d clucked his tongue softly and glanced sidelong at Fuerte, as if implying Fuerte was that kind of person.

“What am I thinking right now?” Fuerte had asked.

Jack had closed his eyes and pretended to concentrate. “Try to open up your mind,” he’d encouraged. But after a moment Jack shook his head. “I can’t seem to…No. There’s nothing.” He opened his eyes and shrugged apologetically. “I’m sorry. But I really can be a valuable member of your team. I just can’t read people like you who keep their minds closed tightly.”

Fuerte had almost smiled but forced a frown instead, not wanting to telegraph how pleased he was that his thoughts were safe. He’d been very skeptical about inviting Jack in because of that ability. If Jack had been able to read his thoughts, Fuerte would’ve kept Greta and thrown Jack back into the cell with Elena.

Jack’s little trick had served the Stones well all this time. He’d gathered information from Fuerte’s thoughts, learning all about his intentions and secrets and sharing them with his superintelligent wife, who kept them in her vault of a memory. When Magdalia announced she was running for president, Fuerte remembered that Jack had used her as an example of someone whose mind he could read easily. He came up with a plan for Jack and Greta to rekindle the old friendship, get close to Magdalia, and gather secret information about her campaign from her thoughts. Little did Fuerte know they’d been talking with Magdalia nearly the whole time she’d been in Estero. Of course Magdalia knew what Jack’s ability was and tried to keep her secrets from him—Greta had taught all the criminals how to block their minds way back when they were still at Sunrise. But they didn’t always remember to do it. So Jack was able to glean some information from Magdalia from time to time.

Jack fed Fuerte enough details—only some of them true—to keep him happy. It didn’t take long for the Stones to see a path to freedom: If Fuerte was expelled from power, replaced by Magdalia, supers in general would be able to go about their business, and the Stones could be freed from the tethers and go back to Cabot. But if Fuerte ever found out about their true intentions to double-cross him, he’d turn Jack and Greta in to the police for their more recent crimes: all the heists they’d done with Fuerte while recruiting supers. Sure, they’d been forced to do them by Fuerte. But this was Estero, and Estero hated supers. They’d go to jail for sure.

Jack and Greta had walked a tightrope for over three years, gaining trust everywhere they could, building people’s egos: Fuerte’s, Martim’s, Magdalia’s, Troy’s. Keeping Fuerte fully believing that they were on his side so he wouldn’t do something that would prevent them from being with Cabot for even longer. Fuerte had no idea what Jack and Greta had been doing this whole time. No one knew about this intricate puzzle they were designing the pieces to.

But then the puzzle broke. When Jack had read Fuerte’s mind recently and learned what he was planning to do with his new recruit, and what lengths he would go to in order to remain in power, the Stones couldn’t let it slide. Not this time. They had to stop him. They also knew this would be the end of their time with Fuerte. What they’d done had to be enough. If they kept going, they risked losing Cabot forever. But then came the inevitable snag: Unable to get the tethers off, they were stuck.

They’d gotten the important information to Quinn Sun. She was their only hope now. But awful stuff was happening a few floors above their heads. Fuerte’s security team had possession of the recording in which they’d blabbed Fuerte’s secret to a reporter. They’d taken their cell phones, which they hadn’t had time to wipe, and Greta’s last text was to Magdalia, revealing the new super. Their charade was over.

Eventually, when Greta and Jack heard someone coming down the stairs from the main floor of the palace, they prepared for the worst. But it wasn’t Fuerte. It was Martim, navigating with a cane and hanging on to the railing, still looking like he’d been run over by a truck.

Self-Appointed Volunteers

“There’s a honeybee exhibit at the zoo,” Cabot explained to Birdie, Seven, and Brix after her packages got delivered. “The zoo is trying to promote the importance of bees as pollinators in the ecosystem, and we’re going to help.”

“What are you talking about?” Birdie asked.

Cabot opened up the biggest box and pulled out handfuls of beekeeper uniforms, all in white. “I’ve printed signs to go with our uniforms.”

“Signs?” asked Seven. “For what? Explain.”

Cabot kept pulling things out of boxes and tossing them excitedly around the great room. “Remember the article Elena read? The zoo was looking for volunteers for their temporary exhibits. So we’ll volunteer and disguise ourselves as beekeepers. We’ll carry signs to promote the bee exhibit and wander around the zoo to encourage the patrons to check it out.”

“You signed us up to volunteer?” Birdie said, alarmed. “You didn’t give our names, did you?”

“Oh, no,” Cabot said. “Of course not—nothing like that. We’ll simply show up and say we’re volunteers.”

“Why don’t we pretend we’re the actual beekeepers?” Brix asked.

“Because then we’d have to stay near the bee exhibit the whole time and look like we know what we’re doing, and the real beekeepers would get suspicious in about ten seconds. We need to appear like we’re wearing these uniforms for a good cause, to get noticed, and that will allow us to wander the whole zoo and see everything while we’re promoting the bees.” She tore open a package and shook out a pair of beekeeper coveralls, then started putting them on over her clothes. She struggled to get her foot through the elastic at the ankles, which would keep the bees out. “And besides,” Cabot continued, “it’ll be a good deed for the world.”

“I still don’t get how these uniforms help us,” Tenner said. “Do we put on sunglasses or hats or what?”

“One moment, please.” Cabot zipped the coveralls up to her neck. She opened another box and took out a stack of brimmed white hats that had black mesh hanging down all around. When she put one of the hats on her head, the netting draped to her chest, shoulders, and back. It obscured her facial features. “There. How do I look? Can you tell it’s me?”

“That’s pretty sneaky,” Birdie said. She tapped her lips thoughtfully. “So we wear these to the zoo and walk right in?”

“With our promotional signs, yes,” said Cabot. “I made posters with the zoo logo and exhibit information on them, and attached them to lightweight wooden dowels that I took out of the curtains. If we act confident, like we’re supposed to be there promoting the bee exhibit, who’s going to tell us no? Everyone who works there will think someone else asked us to come. I’ve said it before—it’s all about the authority of the uniform.”

Paithoon, who’d wandered in while Cabot was explaining, started looking through the uniform packages. “Do you have one in my size?” He looked at Cabot, eyes wide, as if worried he wasn’t going to get to go. He’d been left out of plenty of things during his time as a supernatural person. People didn’t like his claws or the black fur sprouting from his fingers, toes, and face. He’d gotten kicked out of his home at age ten and had been living on the streets of Estero, in hiding from the police, until Magdalia found him.

“Of course, Paithoon,” Cabot said kindly. She could hear the worry in his voice. “It’s right here.” She picked up the third-smallest size and handed it to him, then gave the smallest one to Brix, and medium-sized ones to Birdie and Tenner. Then she glanced Seven’s way. “I got one for you, too, in case you wanted to wear it.”

Seven snorted, but he sounded pleased that she’d thought to do it. “Thanks, Cabot. I think I will, even though no one will be able to see it.” He took the package and tried on a hat, which disappeared as he touched it.

“Who is the big uniform for?” Paithoon asked as he zipped up his suit and examined the elastic around his wrists and ankles.

“That’s for Troy,” Cabot said. “He’s going to drive us.”

“I’m doing what now?” Troy called from his office down the long hallway.

Now Cabot’s eyes widened. She hadn’t told him yet that he was part of their plan. “Uh,” she called back. “I’ll explain later!”

But Troy’s footsteps made the floor vibrate, and soon he appeared around the corner. He stared at the mess of packages and Paithoon and Cabot in their beekeeper suits. “What’s going on?”

Paithoon shuddered. Troy’s booming voice was hard to get used to. He moved behind Birdie, who tried to reassure him that Troy was safe—just loud.

“Well,” said Cabot, “first of all, I don’t think you realize that when you use your booming voice in the house, it can be a bit scary to people who don’t know you well.”

Troy blinked. “Right,” he said after a moment in a much softer voice. “Thank you for the constructive feedback.” He glanced at Paithoon. “Sorry, Catboy. I’m working on being less loud, but sometimes I forget.”

Paithoon eked out a small smile. “It’s cool,” he whispered. He liked that Troy called him Catboy like Seven had done. That made Troy easier to like.

“And second,” Cabot went on, rather quickly now, “we all want to do something fun for once, and Birdie needs to train with other animals, and I found out there’s a special honeybee exhibit at the zoo, so we’re going to pretend like we’re at the zoo working to promote the exhibit so we don’t look weird wearing face coverings in public.” She took a breath. “And we need a driver. One who dresses like us. So…” She picked up the biggest beekeeper uniform and hat and held them out to Troy. “I have chosen to give that honor to you.”

The longer Cabot spoke, the deeper the frown in Troy’s forehead became, and his face was turning crimson. He looked at the uniform and hat with the mesh hanging down. “You’re serious?” he said in a normal, not-loud voice.

Cabot lifted her chin. “Extremely.”

“Congratulations, Troy.” Brix started clapping, and the others joined in.

“What a fine honor to receive,” Birdie murmured, playing along.

“Especially with so many contenders,” added Seven. Tenner looked on to see how his dad would react. He couldn’t imagine Troy agreeing to wear a beekeeper suit.

“Knock it off with the clapping,” Troy warned, but he was trying hard not to laugh. He glanced at Birdie and Paithoon, then back at Cabot. “So I have to wear this?”

“Yes. And drive us.” Cabot shook the uniform at him. “We’re all going—us nine kids and Superfly. Tomorrow.”

“Well, then,” Troy said through gritted teeth as he took the hat and coveralls, “I guess I’d better find a bigger vehicle.”

Loyalties

After speaking quietly to security for a few moments, Martim walked toward Greta and Jack in the dungeon cell, using his cane. The skin around his eyes had a purplish-yellowish-greenish tinge, and his nose was still swollen. He clutched his midsection with his free arm but didn’t seem to be wincing too much from the bruised ribs. He flicked a finger at the security guard nearby. “Take their gags off,” he ordered.

The guard reached through the bars by each prisoner to pull their gags down to hang around their necks.

“Privacy, please,” Martim barked when she was done. Startled, the woman went to the other end of the dungeon, leaving the three to talk freely.

Greta side-eyed the nearest camera, wondering if anyone was watching, and also wondering if Martim remembered the surveillance was there. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Possibly better than you,” Martim said sarcastically. His lips were chapped, and his hair wasn’t quite as perfectly slicked back as usual, but he didn’t smell like moldy cheese anymore. He shook his head at them. “What were you thinking?”

“About what?” Jack asked. He’d had about enough of Martim and was tired of tolerating him all this time. Greta had always been more diplomatic. Under the circumstances, Jack didn’t feel like pandering anymore.

Martim clucked his tongue. “Testy.”

Greta grasped one of the bars and leaned sideways against it, facing away from the camera. “What’s going on?” she asked softly.

“Fuerte listened to the recording of you two double-crossing him.” He leaned in. “He also went through your phones. Brainless moves. You’re done.”

Jack’s eyes closed involuntarily. “Done,” he repeated.

“Yeah. What did you expect?”

“We expected that,” Jack said. “But it’s still strange to hear it. Officially.”

“So, he’s going to…” Greta began slowly, hoping Martim would fill them in on the answer.

“Set you free.” Martim smirked. “Juuust kidding! He’s turning you in to the police so you can be charged for your crimes and go to prison. They’re on their way now. Why on earth did you talk to the news? And Magdalia! Did Sabine get to you? Have you lost your minds?”

Greta blew out a short breath. “We haven’t seen Sabine since she did her interview.” After all this…prison. Everything she’d worked for to become free, to help supers in Estero and everywhere, to help the children have a safer future away from isolation…it was crumbling before her eyes. An image of Cabot swam through her mind, and she gripped the bar harder until her knuckles turned white. “He’s gone too far,” she said faintly. “You know he has, Martim. We had no choice.”

“You had every choice,” Martim chided. “But you picked the wrong one.” He narrowed his eyes, annoyed. “So did Fuerte, for that matter, but that’s a different issue.”

Jack shuffled his feet, unable to look at Martim but reading his thoughts—Martim was jealous of the new super, who was quickly becoming Fuerte’s favorite. But Jack’s heart was breaking, and he didn’t care about Martim right now. All he wanted in the world was to get the tether off, find Cabot, and leave Estero. Now they’d never be able to watch her grow up. “You know we had to. Fuerte told you his plan, right? It’s not okay.”

Martim’s smirk faded. “Of course. I met the new guy. Hector. With the penthouse apartment and Fuerte’s rapt attention.” He frowned. “I’m not sure how his ability works, and he didn’t demonstrate it, for obvious reasons.”

“It’s wrong,” Greta said. “Hector and Fuerte will destroy Estero. And shame on you for not standing up for Jack and me. After all we’ve done for you! You gave us your word that we’d stick together, and you broke it. Like always.”

“I’m trying to make it to the other side of this election,” Martim growled. “We all are! You screwed it up, so you’re on your own. Fuerte is suspicious of me now, too, you know—thanks to you. So don’t give me your stinking disappointment, Greta.”

“I’ll give you whatever I want. And he’s right to be suspicious of you.” Her eyes flared, then flitted to the nearby camera. Was it picking up this conversation? She hoped so. Because if she and Jack were going to jail, there was no way Martim was going to weasel his way out of crashing and burning with them.

“It’s just that everything’s falling apart,” said Martim. “I mean, with you doing this, and the new guy coming in and sucking all the air out of the room, I’m going to have to prove myself all over again. I can’t keep doing this forever.”

“Stop whining, Martim,” Greta snapped back. “You brought some of it on yourself by getting hurt. Poor judgment—Fuerte is right to be concerned about you.”

Jack chimed in. “You’re making reckless choices. Stop doing that.” He gave Martim a hard look.

“You’re lecturing me about poor judgment and reckless choices?” Martim raised an eyebrow, then winced in pain and lowered it. “Funny how you’re the ones on the wrong side of the bars.”

“Feeling sorry for yourself doesn’t give you an excuse to hurt whoever you want,” Jack said.

“I’m way past needing an excuse,” Martim muttered.

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Jack set his jaw.

“Just leave the kids alone,” Greta said. “I’m warning you.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared,” Martim said, mocking her. “Didn’t you see what they did to me?”

Greta glared. “I should’ve let you bleed to death.”

A ruckus sounded from the staircase. The three criminals and the security guard turned sharply toward a squad of Estero City Police officers pounding down the steps—including the new commander who’d taken Collazo’s job. They started toward the cell.

“Good luck. You’ll need it.” Martim slithered away.

The police called the guard to come and open the cell and release the prisoners’ handcuffs. She did, and the cops pulled them out.

“You two are under arrest,” the new commander said. “Greta Stone, wanted for crimes in eleven countries. Jack Stone, wanted in seven. In addition, charges of treason have been brought against you both by the president.”

Treason. Greta snorted but kept her thoughts to herself…and to Jack. Why would we be loyal to a country that hates us?

The commander’s face was filled with contempt. “I’d like to see how you snakes get out of it this time when your home base is the penitentiary.” He sneered at Greta. “They don’t have helicopters there.”

Zoo Buzz

On Monday morning, Troy borrowed a small bus from a local retirement home. No one wanted to know the details behind that. The kids, with Superfly joining them, put on their beekeeper uniforms, brought their signs, and climbed aboard the bus for their trip to the zoo. It would be the first time for several of them, and everyone except Troy was visibly excited. They hadn’t been anywhere fun in a long time.

None of the five had ridden in a vehicle this size before. “There are no seat belts,” Cabot remarked. “This is a death machine.” Nevertheless, after she searched the internet for the safest place to sit inside a bus with no seat belts, she took a seat. The others congregated around her in case the internet was right.

Paithoon, Pascal, and Sasha were eager to explain what the zoo would be like to Superfly and the kids who’d never been to one before. Lada had gone once with Sunrise Foster Home, but it had been a few years ago, so she listened carefully, too, and chimed in when she had something to add. They explained how the various species of animals had their own habitats. There were hundreds of animals, and their enclosures were often very large, so it would take many hours to walk through the entire place and see them all. There were habitats surrounded by glass, like for the penguins and orangutans, and darkened indoor spaces for the reptiles and fish, and fenced outdoor habitats for the large roaming animals like giraffes, rhinos, elephants, bears, and lions and others in the cat family.

“I’m freaking out a little,” Birdie confessed as they rode. “I’ve wanted to do this since Paithoon went to the zoo months ago.” She carried a vomit bag in case she got sick, but Viviana had recently asked her if she’d ever tried a motion sickness medicine. The former commander remembered that Birdie had thrown up in the back of one of the squad cars. When Birdie had said no, Viviana had given her some to try. Birdie had taken it that morning, an hour before departure, and it seemed to be working great, even with her sitting backward in the seat so she could face her friends. Her leg jiggled with energy.

“Are you scared?” Tenner asked.

“No, just excited.” Birdie tugged at the elastic at her wrists and turned to Cabot. “Are these so bees don’t get in and sting you?”

Cabot nodded. “Yes, it’s for protection.” She held up her phone. “Maybe for today we should turn on our tracker apps in case anyone gets lost.”

“Good idea,” Seven said. He selected the app and turned his on. “Can you see me?” he asked Cabot.

“Yep.” Cabot turned hers on, too. “I’m a little nervous about doing this, but it’s the zoo. What could go wrong?” They normally kept their trackers off in case they got attacked or captured or their phones got taken, so they wouldn’t lead Fuerte’s goons to the rest of their group.

“If everyone remembers to switch it off if something suspicious happens,” Superfly said, “we should be fine.”

Soon the group members could see one another on the app. “Hey, Troy,” Seven called, “do you want me to do your phone?”

“Tenner can,” Troy said. “He knows my password.” Keeping his eyes on the road, Troy passed his phone back. Cabot knew Troy’s password, too, but he didn’t know she knew it. In fact, Cabot knew everyone’s password, having memorized the pattern of keystrokes when they entered them. She’d only noticed a minute ago that Superfly had changed his, so she updated her mental files. Tenner quickly set Troy’s phone up as well, and they passed it back to him.

“So you all know your bee talking points, right?” Cabot asked, pivoting to their volunteer gig. “Bees pollinate plants, and without them plants won’t grow. Imagine no fruit or vegetables. Humans and other animals would run out of things to eat very quickly. That’s why it’s so important to protect them. Did you know that many types of bees don’t even have stingers?” Cabot went on to rattle off more facts, and before they knew it, they were pulling into the zoo entrance. They wound through the parking lot, and Troy parked the bus. He slurped the last of his coffee, then donned his beekeeper helmet. The group climbed out and headed for the entrance with their signs. Cabot took the lead and made Troy stay close behind, as well as Pascal, Sasha, and Paithoon, who could help her with any questions the ticket person might ask that she wouldn’t know how to answer.

Brix fell in bounce-step with Cabot as they neared the entrance. “What should we see first?”

“About that…” Cabot pressed her lips together and glanced sideways at Brix. “I was thinking you should go with Birdie, Seven, and Paithoon,” she said apologetically. “I’m going to go with Pascal and Superfly.”

Brix slowed. “Oh.” His face fell. “Okay.”

“Birdie will make sure you see all of the coolest animals,” Cabot promised. “She’s got everything planned out. Hers will be the best group, for sure.” Cabot gave him an encouraging smile, but she felt the tug at her heart. She and Brix did most things together. But Cabot had a new friend she wanted to get to know better. “You okay?”

Brix shrugged. “Of course.”

Cabot put her arm around his shoulders. “Try not to bounce so much,” she whispered.

Brix’s shoulders drooped, and he slowed down. “Sorry.”

“It’s all good.” Cabot flashed him a smile and stepped up to the ticket booth. “Good morning.”

“Hi,” the person inside said cheerfully. She eyed the large group wearing identical uniforms. “Do you have guest badges? You can just go straight to the ticket takers and they’ll scan them there.”

Cabot’s brain flew into smart mode as she calculated the possible meanings behind the question, but she got caught up on the word badge. The only image she had in her mind for that word was a police badge, but then she wondered about the librarians who wore name tags—were those badges? Then she spied the lanyard around the woman’s neck and the rectangular, see-through case holding a card that bore her name, and it all became clear. “No,” she answered. “We’re volunteers for the bee exhibit today. We need tickets.”

The woman seemed perplexed and started looking around the booth as if expecting to find something set aside for the volunteers. Seeing nothing, she glanced at the line that was growing longer behind the group. “So you’re buying tickets? How many and what ages?”

“Yes, we’re happy to buy them to…support the zoo.” Cabot relaxed slightly. She had done her research and knew that everyone thirteen and up had to pay the adult ticket price, and kids twelve and under got cheaper ticket prices, which seemed strange to her. Why would she and Brix and Paithoon and the twins seemingly get less value from the experience than Tenner or the other older kids? How did they put a price on the experience based on age? “Six adults, five kids, please.”

The woman produced the tickets. Cabot counted out the cash from a wad in her pocket, and the group moved forward to the ticket takers at the entrance. They made it through that part without incident, and soon they were walking across a bridge with a big Welcome to the Zoo sign above their heads. The letters were made up of stretching animals carved from wood. Beneath the bridge a river flowed, weaving through habitats. Turtles sat on rocks in the water.

Something howled from across a lagoon. “Oh my gosh, it’s happening,” Birdie said, and immediately sped up toward it, trying to talk to it in her mind. Cabot yanked her back and gathered everyone in an open area so they could divide into teams. There would be at least one person in each group who’d been to the zoo before and could act as a guide for those who were completely unfamiliar.

“Each group of three or four people needs to stay together,” Cabot instructed. “You can go wherever you want in the zoo, but remember to point people to the bee exhibit. If they want more information or a map on how to get there, they can use the QR code on your signs. You’re on your own for lunch, and we’ll meet back here at the end of the day. Any questions?”

“Yeah,” said Superfly. “Do you always boss everyone around like this?”

“Yes,” said Birdie, Tenner, Seven, Brix, and Lada. Seven added, “But she’s good at it.”

Cabot gave Superfly a long stare. He put up his hands. “No further questions.”

“Where are the restaurants?” Troy asked, squinting at the zoo map on his phone and embiggening the center. “These things are so hard to read on a phone,” he grumbled. “Back in my day we had actual maps—ones that you could unfold to see the whole park at once.”

“Okay, gramps,” Tenner said, his face flaming with embarrassment for his grumpy dad. “Go take a load off.”

“Brix,” Cabot said, handing him some of the extra money she’d gotten from The Librarian, “you’re going to ride a motorized Zooter so your bouncing doesn’t get noticed. There’s the Zooter rental tent.” She pointed at an attendant who was rolling out electric animal scooters that people could sit on and ride through the park. “Do you need help renting it?”

“No, I’ll figure it out. Hold my sign, Bird.” Brix handed his Bee Exhibit sign to Birdie, then started moving slowly toward the Zooter rental so he’d bounce as little as possible.

“We’ll go with you,” Birdie said impatiently. “The group needs to stay together.” She grabbed Seven’s hand, went half invisible, and motioned for Paithoon to join them, and they followed Brix.

“Maybe don’t touch Seven!” Cabot whispered harshly after them. “It’s noticeable!”

Birdie dropped Seven’s hand and appeared normal again.

Cabot passed out money to the other groups as well so they could get lunch.

“I’m getting one of those scooters, too,” Lada said after eyeing them. Cabot gave her some extra money; then Lada, Tenner, and Sasha followed Brix’s group. Lada checked her wheelchair at the Zooter rental and picked out an elephant scooter to ride on, while Brix chose a giraffe. They got instructions from the attendant on how the controls worked and tried them out.

Sasha, Lada, and Tenner headed in one direction together, with Lada on her motorized elephant and Tenner and Sasha walking alongside. Brix on his giraffe went with Birdie, Seven, and Paithoon down another paved roadway. Cabot and Superfly both claimed Pascal—Cabot because he was so smart and she liked talking to him, and Superfly because of the way he and Pascal could use their powers together. He wanted to talk more about it if given the chance.

“Text me if you run into trouble,” Troy called out half-heartedly to the departing groups. Then he headed toward the food court with his sign, planning to see a few animals along the way.

Birdie had been studying the map on the website, and she knew exactly where she’d be dragging the boys along with her today. “Primates are my priority, but there are llamas and alpacas near the gibbons—let’s start there.”

They zoomed ahead of Troy and went up a winding hill past the food court and restrooms. A short distance beyond that was the llama enclosure. The four entered the viewing area and saw there was a sidewalk that ran the length of the fence. They walked to the end, seeing a white llama, two brown llamas, and a few alpacas of various colors.

Hello, Birdie said cautiously. The llamas gave off a cocky but skittish vibe, and she didn’t want to overwhelm anyone. Being at the zoo felt like when Birdie had first started conversations with ocean creatures back at the hideout. She wasn’t sure who was going to answer her, but the white llama walked toward them, nostrils flaring. Birdie found a sign that displayed the animals’ names. “The white llama is Gertrude,” Birdie told the others. Hello, friend Gertrude.

Gertrude responded with a greeting. Then she sidled up to the fence and looked along the broad length of it. She jumped and ran several paces, then circled around and returned to stare. She hunched down slightly, her bulging eyeballs issuing a dare.

“What is she doing?” Brix asked.

A grin spread over Birdie’s face. “She wants to race.”

Brix jumped off his Zooter. “Is it okay if I race her?” he pleaded, knowing his bouncing could raise the suspicion of other zoogoers.

“I think it’s fine,” Seven said, checking over his shoulder for onlookers. “Nobody’s around. I’ll race, too. Let’s all do it.”

The kids lined up alongside the llama. “Ready, set, go!” Birdie said, and ran like crazy along the fence. The llama exploded into a run. Brix bounded past Birdie, Seven stayed even with her, and Paithoon darted to the lead, unsurprisingly swift because of his panther qualities. But the llama beat them all. They caught their breaths, then raced Gertrude the other way.

Thank you for the fun! Birdie told Gertrude as Brix got back on his Zooter. Gertrude bobbed her head and suggested they race again soon.

“Okay, now what?” Birdie knew she wanted to see Gibbon Island next, but she was less clear which way to go after that. She consulted with Paithoon as they walked toward the howling noise. Paithoon had been to the zoo a couple of times recently with his tutor. “I’d like to see all the primates if possible. And, well, everything else, too. We might not have time for lunch.”

“No lunch?” Brix mumbled. “I didn’t sign up for that.”

“You want to see the cats, too, right?” asked Paithoon.

“Of course—all the cats, if we have time,” Birdie said. “Is there a lion?”

“Lions,” Paithoon said, correcting her. “Two females and a male—they like me, so I bet they’ll like you, too. Plus there are tigers, cheetahs, ocelots, bobcats, and a leopard. But no panthers.”

“You’re all the panther we need,” Birdie said.

Paithoon beamed, and a guttural, panther-like yip escaped from his throat, surprising all of them. “I didn’t know I could do that!” he exclaimed.

“That was super scary,” Seven said. “You could really freak somebody out with that. Keep working on it—it could be a good asset! But maybe not here at the zoo.”

“I will.” Paithoon grinned behind the netting of his beekeeper helmet. He shifted the signpost in his hand so his claws were hidden from onlookers, then boldly went up to a group of people who were consulting the map in the shade of a tall hedge. “Excuse me, please,” he said, “and welcome to the zoo! Don’t miss the bee exhibit. Bees are crucial for animal survival—including humans. You can learn more and see the beekeeper in action over in the Taking Flight section of the zoo. Do you need directions? Just use this code!” He pointed at the QR code on his sign.

One of the kids in the group used her phone to grab it. “We learned about pollination at school,” she said.

“It’s the best,” Paithoon said. “Have fun, and thanks for supporting the bees!” He ran back to the group, and they continued toward Gibbon Island.

“You were great,” Seven praised. He was surprised by Paithoon’s bravery—the boy was usually quite timid under most circumstances.

“I like wearing this helmet,” Paithoon confessed. “It makes me feel confident. Nobody looks at me like I’m a freak, because they can’t see my furry eyebrows.”

Brix and Seven sighed in empathy. “I get it,” Brix said. “I like this scooter because nobody looks at me. When I bounce, everyone stares.”

“You should have been around when I first started camouflaging,” Seven said. “All you could see was a shirt and shorts hovering and moving above the ground. I wore a scarf around my face when we came here so that my head wouldn’t be invisible. But I’m pretty sure I looked ridiculous.”

“Kind of,” said Brix.

Birdie shrugged. “It was what you needed back then. We got through it.”

Paithoon confessed, “I used to wear Magdalia’s ball gown gloves in public so people wouldn’t see my claws.” He started giggling hard at the memory, and Seven laughed, too, picturing Paithoon with sequined long white gloves up to his elbows paired with his usual jeans, T-shirt, and sandals. Birdie and Brix joined in, sensing it wouldn’t hurt Paithoon’s feelings. Then Brix talked about how hard it was to walk without bouncing, and how sometimes he didn’t even realize he was doing it, just bouncing in place and annoying people with the shaking floor that accompanied it.

“Guilty of being annoyed,” Seven said, putting his hand up, which no one could see. “The shaking floor of the SUV drives me up a tree.”

“Sorry,” Brix said with a grin.

It was good to see Seven cracking up about his old ways. But they all understood. They’d done what they’d had to do to figure things out during a time when disastrously weird and unexpected things were happening to their bodies. The laughter felt like healing.

“Let’s go see what Gibbon Island is all about,” said Birdie, leading the way.

Explorers

Birdie, Brix, Seven, and Paithoon headed for the nearby Gibbon Island, which was an oval-shaped island in a lake. The island wasn’t far offshore from where zoo visitors roamed on the mainland, so they could easily see the gibbons sitting up in the tops of palm trees. The small apes occasionally let out a piercing, siren-like call, either alone or as a duet with another gibbon. This was the howling that Birdie had heard when they’d arrived inside the zoo gates. Now the gibbons responded to her right away, along with a bunch of other nearby animals Birdie hadn’t identified yet. Her heart thudded with excitement at finally getting to stretch her abilities in such a big way.

The island had lush grass and plants and several palm trees. A few small feeding trays held slices of brightly colored fruits and greens. Ropes were strung from tall posts with a support pole in the center to hold them up. The ropes looked like a wide, lazy letter W. There were three gibbons that Birdie could see, and two of them started to race each other by swinging along the ropes. Their long arms made them look so graceful as they flew effortlessly through the air high above the ground.

“There’s no cage around them,” Paithoon pointed out. “They stay on the island because they don’t like water and probably can’t swim. That’s what my tutor told me.”

Birdie was enraptured. She’d been bombarded with animal voices since they’d arrived, and she was still trying to distinguish between them. But she recognized the gibbons’ voices and said hello to them. One of the black gibbons stopped swinging and hung from one hand as it looked around, trying to identify who was talking to him. In seconds he noticed Birdie and greeted her enthusiastically. Then he started swinging again, stopping at the little hut at the top of the far post. From inside, he peered back at Birdie.

Hello, friend! Birdie said again. She hadn’t had such quick success with an animal before. I love how you swing on the rope.

The gibbon suggested she join him and swing. Birdie laughed aloud and shook her head. The monkey vocalized, letting out another piercing, tropical-bird-like noise, and shook his head, too.

“What’s going on?” Seven asked. “Is he talking with you?”

Birdie nodded, mesmerized as the other gibbons began to communicate as well, keeping her fully occupied. “They want me to come to the island,” she said, laughing again.

“That howling sound they make is unbelievable,” Seven remarked. “So loud. I thought it was an ambulance siren when we first got to the zoo. I never imagined gibbons could sound like that.”

“Come, look.” Paithoon beckoned to Brix and Seven to read the informational sign. It had photos of each gibbon with their names next to them.

“Buff-cheeked gibbon,” Seven read.

“I’ll show you my buff cheeks,” Brix said, sticking his bum out from atop the giraffe scooter.

“It’s referring to their faces,” Paithoon said, trying not to giggle. “They have light-colored fur on their cheeks.”

“Eleven to fifteen pounds,” Brix noted, then studied the gibbons. “I thought monkeys had tails.”

“These aren’t monkeys,” Paithoon said. “Gibbons are part of the ape family of primates.”

“The first one Birdie talked to—the one who poked his head out of the hut—is called Jefe,” Seven said. “The one with blond fur is Jefe’s partner, Nena, and the smaller black one is Peque.” He pronounced the names according to the pronunciation key on the sign: HEH-fey, NEH-nah, and PECK-ay.

Birdie overheard what Seven was saying and began to use the gibbons’ names as she conversed. I’m Birdie. These are my friends. We’re exploring the zoo.

“They want to come with us,” Birdie said after a moment. “They seem…” She let out a sigh. “They’re fine, but they seem sad not to be able to go very far.”

“The cats here are a little sad, too,” said Paithoon. “That’s why I like the cat sanctuary better.”

Birdie reluctantly said goodbye to the gibbons so they could see more animals. They visited other primates, including chimpanzees, who were also really receptive to Birdie. There was a baby chimp intent on impressing her audience with tumbling tricks, and one of the older female chimps walked across a tightrope, arms in the air, with half an orange in her mouth.

“Chimpanzees share ninety-nine percent of their DNA with humans,” Paithoon said. Then he added, “It was on my test.”

Brix turned thoughtful. “The way you work with your tutor is sort of how we worked with Cabot’s mom. She would give us tests sometimes, too. Just the memorizing kind—we didn’t use paper or electronics. Cabot was the best at that. When my dad took over after Greta left the hideout, we mostly had conversations with him about everything he could think of. Sometimes we had night school on the beach. We’d look at the stars, and he’d teach us the constellations.”

“I loved that,” Birdie said with a sigh. “I miss him.”

“Me too,” said Brix.

Seven gave shoulder squishes to Brix and Birdie. “He was a good dad to all of us.”

Paithoon looked down. He didn’t know what having a good dad was like. That’s one reason he felt like he understood Seven—he’d heard plenty about how awful Martim was. “I’m sorry I made you sad.”

“You didn’t,” Birdie assured him. “We like talking about him. Do you want to talk about your parents? If you do, we’d love to listen.”

“I don’t think so,” Paithoon said quietly.

It was slow going for the group with all the conversations Birdie was having with animals. They stopped again to tell people about the bee exhibit, which perked Paithoon up a little. He loved the pretend factor. When he was a beekeeper, he didn’t have to be a panther-boy. But he was learning some things from these other children about getting through the shocking early stages of being a super. And he was starting to like some of his features. Getting to train with the others really helped him like his claws more. Though he was glad they’d taken the day off from training so his sore fingers and toes could heal.

Finally they made it to the cat section of the zoo, where Paithoon came to life…and so did the cats. A leopard rose from her nap on a high gray rock to investigate the visitor’s scent. The male lion stood on a rock in his fenced-in, moat-surrounded enclosure and began a bone-tingling, rhythmic barking at Paithoon, as if he remembered him. The two lionesses came out of their protective house to see him. The bobcats scrambled to press against the fence, purring and trying to get a good whiff of Catboy.

But when Birdie tried to talk to these cats, they mostly ignored her. It was worse than the domestic cats at the monastery. Eventually she managed to get a cool greeting in return from one of the bobcats. But it was a real workout for her mind, which was exactly what she needed.

Meanwhile, Troy had made it to the food court, sweating inside the restrictive uniform and netted helmet. The coveralls fit uncomfortably. When it came to clothing, Troy usually had his threads tailored to accommodate his large frame. And he didn’t like wearing the helmet and carrying the bee sign. But without the disguise, Troy would be recognizable to the general public. The palace had released images of him as well as the kids from their break-in, and the Fuerte supporters were on the lookout. So he dealt with it.

He rested the sign on his shoulder and twirled it as he waited in line for his order of chicken nuggets. As he waited, he wondered idly if there were any chickens at the zoo, and what they had to say about the food choices here.

“Hey,” said a kid in the line next to him.

Troy looked over. The boy was about seven or eight with bright orange hair. He wore glasses that were taped around one stem and a faded T-shirt that had a meerkat wearing a superhero cape on it.

“Yeah?” said Troy.

“You’re the biggest beekeeper I’ve ever seen.”

Troy frowned. People were always commenting on his size, even when he was a young teen at Sunrise. It never stopped being annoying and, frankly, hurtful. He and E-kat had just had a heartfelt talk about it the other day. They’d shared how rude it was for people to comment about other people’s physical features—whether short, tall, big, small, fat, thin, birthmarked, pimply-faced, or anything else to do with their appearance in general. Troy’s temper flared. “Have you seen a lot of beekeepers?”

“Yes,” said the kid, and immediately shifted his gaze to look at the patio. “You don’t look like a beekeeper at all.”

Troy—a criminal—could tell he was lying. “Oh really? Where have you seen all of these beekeepers?”

“At…” The kid faltered. “On TV. There’s a show…about…beekeepers. Yeah.”

Troy snorted. “A show about beekeepers? Clearly I don’t watch the insomnia network.” He heard his order number called and turned away to collect his lunch. The kid was standing in Troy’s path when he turned back with his tray. Troy sighed and said, “Maybe you should go to the bee exhibit and see what’s going on there.” He scanned the area for an empty table far away from the rude kid. “Learn something today.” He smiled patronizingly and shook his bee sign at him.

The kid frowned, then turned to look for whoever he’d come to the zoo with.

Troy found a shady table next to a painted cinder-block wall and sat down, then tried to figure out how he was supposed to eat with the netting right in front of his face. With a sigh, he weaved a nugget beneath the drape and slid it up his chin and into his mouth. Bits of the breading were skewered by his two-day stubble. No dipping sauce for him today, or he’d be a mess.

After he slid the last nugget into his mouth and started clearing his table, Troy froze. He thought he heard an all-too-familiar voice coming from the other side of the wall. Troy focused on it, and his X-ray eyes kicked in. He saw through the cinder block to the other side and gasped. Immediately he went for his phone. His hands were so shaky he nearly dropped it as he started a group text: Mayday, Mayday! Six of Fuerte’s beefiest security guards and Martim are in the zoo!

Sneaking Around

Troy pulled himself together and kept watching through the wall as he dumped his lunch trash in the food court receptacle. He wiped his hands and sent a second message: Stay clear of the presentation space/amphitheater next to the food court. Tenner, are you anywhere nearby to listen in? Back of the food court behind the dumpsters.

Tenner responded: Not far! Running toward you now.

The father and son met up by the back corner of the food court nearest the amphitheater stage, where the group was talking. “Hop up.” Troy knelt and tapped his horizontal thigh, the muscles threatening to rip through the seams of his coveralls. “You’ll be closer to the top of the wall so you can hear better. Just don’t let them see you.”

“I mean, I have a beekeeper’s helmet on,” Tenner said as he contemplated stepping on his dad’s white clothing with his dirty shoe. Was it worth the effort of taking his shoe off? What if they had to run?

Troy continued to use his X-ray vision to watch the group moving about the stage and pointing at the center and sides as they spoke. “Martim’s face is messed up, and he’s using a cane,” Troy whispered.

“He asked for it.” Tenner kept his shoe on but tried to dust it off a little. He stepped up on Troy’s leg and slowly rose, grabbing the top of the wall but being careful to remain hidden while listening. His nose twitched and his eyes watered as he eyed the smelly dumpsters a few feet away. “They’re talking about putting plants on the corners of the stage,” he whispered, puzzled. Then his face cleared. “Oh. And a lectern in the center for the president. Is Fuerte going to do a campaign speech? Here?”

“Reaching out to the masses,” Troy muttered. “I told him to do stuff like this months ago, but he didn’t listen. Did they say when the speech would be?”

“The zoo guy said he’d get his team working on the design plan. So I’m guessing it’s not today. Now they’re asking about animal demonstrations. What are those?”

“It’s when the zookeepers take out certain animals from their habitats and let people get close to them and handle them. Like turtles and snakes and…I don’t know. Maybe a trained monkey or chimp that was rescued from a circus.”

“The zookeeper just told Martim they don’t do that because it traumatizes the animals. Martim asked if they could make an exception for the president.” Tenner frowned. “Jerk.” He tipped his head to one side, still listening as he spoke with Troy. “The zookeeper suggested holding the event near the barn animals in the petting zoo instead, but Martim said no, it would be too smelly—they want to use this space.” Tenner paused. “I don’t get why Fuerte is doing this here.”

“He’s trying to show that he’s a normal guy who likes the zoo, like tons of families do. He’s being relatable so he can get votes.”

“Oh.” Tenner was starting to understand. “And people fall for it even though they know he’s an elitist who hates ordinary people and other supers?”

“Every time.”

Tenner listened some more. Then his jaw dropped. After a moment he whispered, “They want the place lit up like it’s a major holiday, with strings of lights and activities for kids. It’s happening Friday night!”

Lada appeared, speeding toward them on her elephant scooter, with Sasha on foot right behind, all of them avoiding the walkway around the amphitheater.

While Tenner kept listening, Troy looked away from the wall and filled in the others. They in turn texted the details to the rest of the zoo group.

“I think they’re wrapping things up,” Tenner whispered. “Meeting at the amphitheater at four o’clock Friday to set up for the seven p.m. rally. And that’s—”

“Holy expletive!” Lada muttered, adopting the phrase from the hideout kids. “There’s a goon coming this way!”

The group, well trained by now, scattered in different directions. Tenner hopped down and walked nonchalantly back the way he’d come, grateful his shoes were on. Lada drove her elephant scooter over to a family in the food court to tell them about the bee exhibit. Sasha trailed behind a group of schoolkids. Troy ducked into one of the food court’s single-stall bathrooms and locked it, then used his X-ray vision to watch for Martim and Fuerte’s henchmen through the door.

Twenty minutes later, Lada stealthily followed Fuerte’s team to the exit. They’re leaving, she texted the group, and added a few photos of the guards so they could become familiar with their faces. Then she checked in with Tenner and Sasha, who were heading back to the food court for lunch, and met them there.

As the other groups continued exploring, several of their phones chimed with a breaking news alert:

Notorious Supernatural Criminals Jack and Greta Stone Captured, Charged, Jailed

Breaking

Near the toucans, Birdie breathlessly read the article aloud. “Estero News. Notorious supernatural criminals Greta and Jack Stone were arrested yesterday and charged with treason and multiple international crimes that could carry life sentences. Just months after the statute of limitations ended for the crimes they committed fifteen years ago, the two find themselves in the thick of it once more. Sources say they’ve been taken to the Estero Penitentiary to await trial…but an officer at the Estero Police Department, which recently ejected their commander, Viviana Collazo, and replaced her with a Fuerte favorite, expressed doubts that there would even be a trial. When pressed, the officer admitted that despite the recent legal changes to allow supernatural people to live in Estero, supers are not getting the same treatment as ordinary citizens. Most supers would argue that they never were. More to come as the story develops.”

“Where is she?” Seven screeched. He whipped around as if searching the zoo for her.

“Who?” Brix asked.

“Cabot! She’s all alone. Having to read this.” His voice cracked. He dropped to the pavement so he could set his phone down, use his stylus, and track her location without making the screen invisible.

“She’s not alone,” Birdie said. “She’s with Pascal and Superfly.”

“Maned wolf,” Seven muttered as he hurriedly figured out directions to the habitat. “She is alone. She needs us. The five. Those guys are great, but they don’t understand what she’s been through—she’ll put on a brave face and pretend everything is fine like she always does, and hold it in even though she’s dying inside. She was there for all of us when we had parent problems. Now she’s got them. This is a big deal.” He got up and, leaving the others behind, sprinted to a fence and jumped over it, then ran like a lightning bolt through the zoo toward the wolves.

“He’s right. Come on!” Birdie swiftly found the maned wolves on her phone map, and she and Paithoon chased after Seven, while Brix abandoned his scooter and started run-bouncing and flipping through the zoo paths, soon overtaking them. People stopped to watch him and some even clapped. But Brix didn’t care if they clapped, or even if someone recognized him by his bounce. Seven was right—Cabot’s parents were arrested, in jail, maybe for life. She needed them.

Over by the maned wolves, Cabot was frozen in place. She stared numbly at her phone, reading the headline and story again and again, trying to make sense of it. How had this happened? Hadn’t Fuerte promised to protect them from jail if they worked for him? Could this all be a misunderstanding? Put in jail…for life?

“What’s wrong, Cabot?” Pascal asked. “What are you reading?” Cabot’s phone had been the only one in their group set for Jack and Greta Stone alerts.

She looked up, trying to mask her feelings. “Oh, it’s just…some news. My parents…I guess they’re in a bit of trouble.” Her heart was tearing apart, but her face was as stony as her last name. “What else is new? They’re criminals, after all.” She attempted to move closer to the wolf habitat, but her feet were lead, stuck in place. “Those wolves, they’re…beautiful.” She tried not to choke. “They look like foxes on stilts.”

“That’s literally what the sign says,” Superfly said with an anxious laugh. He could tell Cabot was acting strange, and this seemed like a serious situation, but he hadn’t spent much time with her yet. And he didn’t really know Cabot’s parents well, either, even though he’d seen them around the palace. He knew Martim and Troy and E-kat much better, anyway. And he wasn’t sure what to do. Cabot was a tough nut to crack. He and Pascal exchanged helpless looks.

Pascal put a gentle hand on Cabot’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Cabot’s lip trembled. She nodded. “Mm-hmm.” But she was not okay. She couldn’t move and she was struggling to breathe. Waves of shock and dismay and anger pulsed through her. But she wasn’t going to cry here, not in front of Superfly and Pascal. She had to escape, or she was going to lose it.

“What did the article say?” Superfly asked, checking his phone and searching for the headline.

“I need to go,” Cabot squeaked, and turned sharply, looking for the nearest zoo exit. She saw an overgrown hedge crowding an old iron gate a short distance away, where there weren’t any people. She needed to get away before she exploded. Her lead feet responded, and she started running as fast as they would allow toward the gate. Just before she reached it, a sob escaped. She lunged blindly at the bars and shook them, trying to get the thing open, ignoring the scratches she was getting from the hedge. “Open!” she cried as tears threatened to spill. “Open!” It felt like she was the one behind bars.

The next moment, an invisible being grabbed her.

“Cabot, it’s me. Seven.” He didn’t want her to worry that Martim had returned. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

Cabot’s face twisted. Seven knew she needed him. The tears forced their way out in a tumultuous flood. She threw off her helmet and sobbed into his shoulder and squeezed him hard around his neck, wailing, unable to hold it in. Her parents had given her three and a half years of constant, bitter disappointment, pain, and heartache. “Why do they have to do this to me all the time?” she cried, pounding on Seven’s shoulders. “Why?”

Superfly and Pascal approached cautiously but could tell Seven was there because Cabot was more than halfway faded, so they kept their distance. Soon Brix arrived, bouncing like a maniac, and Birdie and Paithoon came, too, breathless. Birdie and Brix went straight to Cabot while Paithoon hung back with the other two. Moments later Tenner showed up, leaping over strollers and dodging families until he landed next to Birdie. Four of them huddled around the hurting one the way they’d done so many times before.

Cabot’s breath was ragged, and her words and thoughts didn’t make sense. She couldn’t stand upright and kept covering her face with her hands, as if she were trying to force her tears and cries to stay inside. But they all leaked through like a raging flood destroying a dam.

Brix had never seen Cabot act like this before. She didn’t emote very often, and when she did, it was mild—smirks, shrugs, an occasional sarcastic laugh, and plenty of frowns. But now she was scaring him.

Troy came running, too; then Lada and Sasha arrived. Superfly and Pascal had read the article by now, and they wondered what they should do. Lada, seeing that Cabot was with the people she needed to be with in this horrifying moment, spoke quietly to the rest, explaining what had happened and the long, brutal history of Cabot and her parents. She said they should all wait quietly or, better yet, check out some nearby habitats and remain at a distance to protect Cabot’s feelings. “She won’t want us all staring at her, no matter how much we want to express our support.”

Once Cabot was able to stop crying, she’d zip up all her emotions again and be virtually unreadable, perhaps until another three and a half years’ worth of trauma had built up. That was who she was: unapologetically stoic Cabot Stone, who dealt with anything and everything that was thrown at her, who solved everyone else’s problems but couldn’t solve this one of her own. Only Seven had seen glimpses of this Cabot before. And he knew enough not to speak of this moment again unless she wanted to.

Even after Cabot’s sobs slowed, she clung to Seven, listening to his soothing words in her ear, not wanting to open her eyes, dreading having to face the others’ pitying looks, hating that they all knew her parents were arrested and in jail. It was excruciating and terrifying and mortifying. She was so angry and hurt she couldn’t be consoled. “And now everyone is looking at me,” she said under her breath.

“We’ll protect you.” Brix took a step back and turned around, and Birdie and Tenner followed his lead. They stayed close, though, providing cover for the two seated against the hedge and iron gate. Everyone else waited patiently near the maned wolves, stealing glances their way to see if Cabot was okay.

Birdie motioned to Lada, and the two split the distance between them. Birdie leaned in and said quietly, “Let’s all meet at the van in forty-five minutes. Clear everyone out of here and send them to see their last favorite animals or get lunch. Let them know Cabot will talk about it when she’s ready, so it would be nice for them not to ask her any questions today, okay?”

“They only want to express that they’re sorry,” Lada said.

“I know they all mean well,” said Birdie. “And that Cabot’s reaction might seem strange. But she is our little Cabot, and we’re going to do this her way. Things will be better in a day or two.”

Lada nodded. “Thanks, Bird. I’ll pass it along.” She turned her scooter around and went back to Troy, Superfly, Pascal, Sasha, and Paithoon. “All right, everyone,” Lada said cheerily, looking up. “We’re going to give Cabot some space, okay? Last call for zoo animals or lunch. Let’s meet at the van at three o’clock and call it a day.” She organized them, putting Pascal, Sasha, and Paithoon together, then went with Superfly to see the llamas and alpacas before they left for the day.

Everyone dispersed except Troy, who stayed behind for a moment watching the five show up for one another. It struck him hard in the chest to see the way they loved and cared for each other. The way they would do anything for their lifelong friends. He remembered how his generation had been back at Sunrise—the eight of them trying to find their way in a cruel world that hated them. They’d been close, too…back then at least. He and Martim had had a lot of fun together. And of course he’d fallen in love with Lucy. But the eight of them couldn’t have held a candle to what Troy was witnessing right now with the five offspring—Tenner had been right about them. He hoped the children’s deep, unselfish friendships lasted longer than their parents’ had. Was it possible to fix any of the broken relationships? Troy was getting along with Elena, and Magdalia was starting to trust him again. But Martim…that one was finished.

And he might never see Jack and Greta again. The news about them was scary. A gut punch. They had the cleanest hands of the four who’d worn a tether for Fuerte. Was the president turning on everyone? Martim seemed like he was safe enough from Fuerte’s wrath. But Troy…if he ever got caught by Fuerte or the police, he’d be in the same boat as the Stones. There was no way Fuerte would protect him. He looked around uneasily.

When a zoo worker passing by slowed her golf cart to see if everything was okay with the group of upset children, Troy stopped her before she bothered them. “Everything’s fine,” he assured her. “They got some bad news.”

“Was it about the bees?” the woman asked anxiously, noticing their uniforms. She’d seen some of the young beekeeper volunteers a couple of times that morning.

Troy blinked. “Ahh…” He glanced at the kids, then back at the woman. “Yes, ma’am. They learned that if we don’t protect the bees, it could affect our entire ecosystem in terrible ways. It truly is upsetting.” He hesitated, then held out the sign he’d carried all day but hadn’t used. “Care to help spread the word?”

The worker, startled, took Troy’s sign and read it. “Sure, why not.” She propped it up in her cart so passersby would be able to see it and access the QR code. After she drove off, Seven and Cabot went to sit on an old wooden bench with Birdie, Brix, and Tenner still standing around protecting them. Troy picked up Cabot’s helmet, set it on the bench, and slipped away to let them be.

Incarcerated

“My parents are in jail, maybe for life,” Cabot said listlessly to Elena Golden the day after the zoo trip. The words still sounded strange, but at least she’d stopped crying. The two sat on the back patio of the mansion watching the sun disappear behind the trees. Paithoon, Sasha, and Pascal were outside training with a few of the others.

Cabot had given herself time to let the truth sink in; she’d hardly slept last night. But today, once The Librarian and E-kat and the other adults had caught up on what had happened, Cabot felt like she was walking around in a daze with everyone looking at her. She couldn’t concentrate. There was one huge fear that kept circling around her, so enormous she didn’t want to say it aloud in case that would make it come true.

Elena wrapped an arm around Cabot as the chilly autumn night descended. “It’s too soon to know what will happen.”

Cabot squinched her eyes shut as tears threatened again. The impending darkness helped her say things she wouldn’t say in daylight. “It’s embarrassing. And I’m really mad at them.”

“Tell me more about that,” Elena said.

Cabot squirmed. But Elena was familiar. She’d basically stepped in as a parent to them all. “Nobody else’s parent is in jail.”

Elena nodded. “And they all deserve to be, so that feels unfair. What else?”

Cabot’s lips twitched with false starts. “The fact that they chose…something else. Over me.”

Elena sighed. “That’s a really tough one, isn’t it?”

“It hurts. And it’s embarrassing.”

Elena thought for a moment. “Because…?”

“Because I’m not good enough to be their first choice.”

“Dear child.” Elena closed her eyes, trying to breathe through the knifing of her heart. “First, your feelings are valid. But your parents’ actions do not make you less. We don’t know why they chose their path, but we do know that you are a gem, and I am always here to remind you that you are worth being any parent’s first choice.”

Cabot’s throat ached. Why wasn’t their path her? And worse, the unaskable question that tumbled about in her mind made it hard for her to focus on anything else. “So, is it…over?”

Elena’s brows knit together, trying to guess Cabot’s thoughts. “There may be a trial, if they’re treated like regular people. If so, they’ll have a chance to plead their case.”

“No, I mean…” She cringed as the question pounded in her ears. She had to ask it, no matter how much the answer would hurt.

Elena felt Cabot shaking. “What is it?”

“I just…” Cabot swallowed hard, then blurted out, “Am I ever going to see them again? Or is reading about them in the news all that’s left for me?” She hiccupped as she tried to control the sobs.

“Oh, Cabot,” Elena whispered, turning to face her. “You can go see them at the penitentiary. There are visiting hours. All we have to do is make the arrangements.”

Cabot blew out a breath. Her eyes were puffy, and her face was streaked with tears. “Really?”

“Yes, honey. I’ll take you there myself whenever you’re ready. I’d like to see them, too. They were my friends, and I miss them. And I really want to know what happened. Hopefully they’ll be able to tell us. But there will be guards watching.”

Just then, Tenner opened the door and poked his head out. “Magdalia is here, in case you want to say hi.”

Cabot dabbed her face with her sleeve. “Not today. Tell her we said hello.”

Tenner smiled. “No problem. She said she got a text from Greta the other day that seemed like it was sent before she finished writing it. It said, ‘Check new super,’ with no punctuation at the end. When Magdalia asked who she meant, Greta never responded.”

“Hmm,” said Elena.

“Interesting,” said Cabot. “That’s not like my mom to skip punctuation. When was it sent?”

“Friday at eleven seventeen a.m. Sabine was surveilling the palace that morning, and she said two teams of guards left around ten a.m. in palace SUVs and returned early that afternoon. Not much to go on, but maybe they had your parents.”

Cabot shrugged listlessly. She didn’t have it in her to start deducing things quite yet.

“Anyway,” Tenner said, “Magdalia and E-kat are heading to northern Estero for a few days to campaign. And they’re feeling hopeful. So that’s nice. But we can never be too careful.”

“Thanks, Tenner,” Cabot said. “Yes, that’s nice.”

Tenner hung there for a moment, then waved awkwardly and went back inside.

Cabot pondered the information. “Now that we have a lot of money, some that we can spare, would it make sense to put it into Magdalia’s campaign?”

“I think so,” Elena said. “It’s going to be a close election. If we can give an extra push at the last minute, maybe it’ll help. I’ll talk to The Librarian about the best way to do it.” She glanced at Cabot, wondering if she had anything else she needed to get off her chest before they went inside. Cabot’s face was still troubled, so Elena pulled her cardigan close around her neck and waited.

After a while, Cabot turned to Elena. “Do you think they’ll be in prison for life, like the newspaper said?” She winced after she said it. But she had to know. All this time in Estero, Cabot had held out hope that there’d be some way to reunite with her parents. That they’d turn out to be good after all. She knew it was silly to think it after what she’d witnessed from them, but the fairy tale of everything turning out good in the end had kept her going. If they were in prison for the rest of their lives, Cabot’s entire plan, her entire world, would come crashing down. The three Stones, all in different places, two of them locked up…It was so much different from how Cabot had imagined her life.

“I think you should be prepared for that,” Elena said gently. “But there are some variables in play. If Magdalia wins the election and pushes for super equality, that might at least help Jack and Greta get a fair trial. Plus they do have a case, if any judge will listen to it—Fuerte forced them to commit all those crimes on the recruitment missions. They were tethered and under duress.”

“So why isn’t Fuerte in prison with them? He did the crimes, too.”

“Great question,” Elena said wryly. “He deserves to be. But if I know your parents, I don’t think they wanted to commit those crimes. So if everything goes our way with the election…” She shrugged. “There’s a chance for them to get out of this mess.”

A chance. Something to cling to. Something to keep the fairy tale alive. The buildup of stress that had been knotting in Cabot’s insides since she’d first read the headline began to thaw slightly. “Okay,” she said on a breath. She could visit them. This wasn’t the end of their family. Holy coconuts.

But now that she knew she could see them, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go quite yet. She needed to pull herself together first. And figure out what she was supposed to say to them. They’d been disappointing her for so long, and now this. Cabot was afraid that all her grievances would pour out at once. But didn’t they deserve that? And what would they say to her?

Elena saw the uncertainty on Cabot’s face. “Let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll get the paperwork started. With any luck, they’ve already put you on their approved-visitors list, hoping you’ll come.”

There hadn’t been a call or text from Cabot’s parents since several days ago. No doubt their cell phones had been taken away, either by Fuerte or the penitentiary. Now there was no easy way to reach them.

Cabot wished she’d answered when she’d had the chance.

A Short Career

The next morning, a young man on a tottering bicycle turned in to the heavily guarded driveway to the president’s palace. He wore a messenger bag strapped across his body and round eyeglasses that were fogging up in the damp morning air. His thick black hair stood on end from the wind. He was so excited about the assignment Quinn Sun had given him that he’d forgotten to wear his helmet.

He stopped well short of the guard station and took in the iron fence and armed guards around the property. He gulped, then continued up the drive to the gate. He rolled to a stop and put one sneakered foot down on the asphalt to balance. A security guard came out of the station.

“Do you have an appointment?” the guard asked. She adjusted her weapons belt.

“I— Hello, and no, not exactly, but I’ve been calling—” The young man took off his glasses and tried to dry them on his jacket, but that was damp, too.

“Who are you?”

“Asaad Fayed. I’m with Estero News. Er…the TV station.” He replaced the streaked glasses and struggled with his messenger bag, trying to get the strap to slide so he could open the bag in front of him and look inside. “I don’t have real credentials yet, but I have a temporary badge here…” He rummaged through the opening. “Somewhere…”

The woman studied him critically. “What do you want?”

“I’m investigating…something. Supernatural people. I—I was just wondering if you have any, um, new supers here. And who they are? I tried to get an appointment with Martim Palacio, but no one ever called me back.” Asaad gave up the search and pushed his glasses up.

“Maybe that’s because your station has been treating President Fuerte unfairly,” said the guard. “Did that ever occur to you? Why would we want to tell you anything after you blasted the president’s private family business all over the airwaves?”

Asaad blinked. “Are you talking about…the Sabine interview?”

“Of course I’m talking about the Sabine interview!”

“I mean, I didn’t have anything to do with that. I wasn’t even here yet then—I’m a new intern and I’m just getting started, but I was wondering if you want us to report on or maybe, like, do a feature on any new supers you have working with the team?”

“So you’re brand new, and you’re suddenly booking features?”

Asaad nearly lost his balance. He hopped off the bike, and it clattered to the pavement; then he took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Look, obviously I’m not doing that yet, but it would really help me out if I could get this information from you. Like, I need to pass my journalism class, and if I get let go because I don’t have any scoops, my parents will be pretty disappointed.”

The guard gripped the doorway of the station and took a couple of deep breaths in and out.

Asaad’s eyes widened. He picked up his bike. “Are you mad at me or something?”

“Of course I’m mad!” the guard hollered. “The president doesn’t work with interns, Martim Palacio doesn’t work with interns, and no one is going to tell you anything. So I think you should get out of here, quit your internship, and tell your parents you’re sorry, but you’re not cut out to be a reporter. Do you understand?”

“I—I—I…Yes. Sheesh.” Crestfallen, Asaad grabbed the handlebars and wheeled the bike around. He started running, then hopped onto the seat and tried to steer. Then he accidentally went off the driveway into the grass, setting off an alarm, and bumped and thumped down into the drainage ditch before climbing the bike back up and onto the driveway. “Sorry about that!” he called over his shoulder as a team of guards came running outside to see who the intruder was.

Asaad made it to the street and rode unsteadily back to the TV station, hitting a pothole on the way and splashing mud on his sneakers.

When he got to the station’s parking lot, he threw his bike on the ground and his messenger bag on top of it, then walked into the reception area. Glasses steaming and chest heaving, Asaad Fayed stood before the receptionist. “I’m not cut out for politics,” he said, limbs and lip trembling. “I quit.” He turned and left without another word. A moment later he came back inside, pulled his time card from the slot, and clocked out. Then he left for real.

A New Disguise

The mansion group gathered in the great room with everyone but Magdalia and E-kat present. The Librarian pulled Cabot aside before they started their meeting. “I spoke with Elena. We made a donation to Magdalia’s campaign. It’ll allow her and E-kat to travel a bit longer outside the big city to shore up more votes, and give the home office the funds to print materials for hundreds of volunteers to canvass Estero neighborhoods in the next few days. That was a great idea.”

Cabot smiled. “Thanks. Can we help with the canvassing?”

“You bet we can. We’ll find a way to get you out there safely. Your uniforms trick gave me an idea.” As everyone went quiet, The Librarian pointed Cabot to an empty seat on the big sectional, then sat down, too, so Cami could start the meeting.

“News has broken about the president’s upcoming Friday-night rally at the zoo,” said Cami. “They’re promoting this as a family event.” She was presenting as one of her favorite, most comfortable personas, the Black male doctor wearing a lab coat with his hair in a topknot. “Tickets and IDs will be required.” She sat on the edge of a bar stool, spreading her knees wide and scratching her scruffy chin. “What’s our plan?”

“Are we all going?” asked Brix.

The Librarian shook her head. “Having too many of us could cause problems. It would give people more chances to recognize someone. How many tickets are they giving out? I’m not familiar with the audience capacity of that presentation space.”

“I’d say at least five hundred,” said Troy, who’d had the best look at the amphitheater through the wall. “Maybe six.”

Cabot pulled out her phone and found the article. She was just getting used to the idea that her parents were in prison, and she was ready to put her mind to work on other things so she wouldn’t have to dwell on that anymore. She clicked the article’s link for tickets, which took her to a bare-bones ticketing website. It didn’t say on the page how many tickets were available, but she used the “Quantity” drop-down to check. An individual person could reserve up to ten tickets, which wasn’t helpful, because it didn’t show the full capacity for the event. She clicked on the “Group Tickets” link and discovered options for a limited number of groups up to twenty-five people. When she used the “Quantity” drop-down here, it appeared there were six slots available. “Six groups would be a hundred and fifty people,” Cabot muttered. “They’ve got to have additional room for individuals and families, since that’s what they’re advertising. But there’s no information here about total number of tickets. However…” She paused briefly to pull up the amphitheater rental page on the zoo website and did some swift calculations, based on the square footage of the amphitheater and seating area, plus standing room. Then she lifted her gaze. “I’d say there’s room for six hundred.”

“That’s kind of what I already said,” Troy pointed out, but nobody paid attention.

“The article emphasizes family,” Cami mused. “What did you overhear about that aspect, Tenner?”

“They want to do animal demonstrations,” Tenner said. “And they mentioned activities, but nothing specific.”

“The website says ‘Fun activities for all ages.’ ” Cabot’s thoughts flitted to the fact that her family might never be able to do anything fun together again, but she fought off the negativity this time. “So, what do families do for fun around here, anyway?”

None of the forgotten five had a clue, but that didn’t stop them from guessing. “Go to the beach?” Tenner suggested.

“That’s hard to do at the zoo,” Cabot said drily. “Though not impossible, if you count the sand in the camel enclosure.”

Everyone laughed, which made Cabot feel better.

Sasha spoke up. “Our family used to go bowling back when it was safe for us to be out in public.”

Birdie frowned. “What’s bowling?”

Sasha described the slick alleys and the heavy ball and the ten white pins with red racing stripes around their necks perched far at the other end.

“That sounds fun,” Seven said, “but I’m not sure that’s the kind of thing they could do at the zoo.”

“They could use penguins for the pins,” Brix said, grinning as he pictured it.

“What about outdoor activities?” Tenner asked. “For instance, we do physical and weapons training. Do normal people do that?”

“No,” chorused several adults, and Elena added, “Non-super families definitely do not spend their time doing the same things we do.”

“Think school carnival,” The Librarian said, before realizing most of the kids had never been to a traditional school. She turned to the Collazo kids, who were her experts in this realm. “The county fair. Stuff that is easy to set up and not expensive or complicated to bring into the zoo.”

“Like balloon animals,” said Sasha. “Face painting.”

“Fake tattoos and cornhole,” said Pascal.

“What’s cornhole?” asked five kids in chorus.

“Beanbags filled with corn that you throw into a hole,” Pascal said.

“That sounds ridiculous,” said Brix.

“It’s actually fun,” Pascal told him. “There is some level of skill required to win. Maybe we can build one for the backyard sometime.”

Vince Collazo chimed in. “There’ll definitely be a booth or two selling Fuerte’s merchandise—key chains, hats, shirts, beach towels, stuff like that.”

“Who would buy that junk?” Paithoon said with a panthery growl. He caught Cabot’s eye and grinned when she gave him a thumbs-up. He’d been working hard on his growls and snarls while climbing the past few days.

“You’d be surprised,” The Librarian said. “Especially at a Fuerte rally.”

“Then I’ll wear my Magdalia T-shirt,” Paithoon said.

“That’ll get you kicked out before you make it to the ticket booth,” said Troy. “Trust me. I’ve done the kicking.”

“Good point.” Paithoon nodded nervously. Troy’s size and booming voice still scared him a little, but he was getting used to them.

Cabot’s eyes darted around the room from Superfly and Caliro to the Collazo family, to Elena and Lada, to The Librarian and Cami Leone and Troy and Paithoon and the other four of the five. Her gaze landed on Sabine Fuerte, who was working on her laptop. Cabot loved how Sabine plowed into her work without having to talk about things first.

“What’s our goal?” Lada asked. “Massive disruption? Making President Fuerte look bad? Throwing him off his game? Is this retaliation for what he did to Magdalia and her supporters at the stadium? Obviously Birdie will need to be there for any sort of animal shenanigans, but she shouldn’t need too many others there.”

Tenner chimed in. “Remember, this won’t be like an ordinary day going to the zoo with a ticket. This will be a top security situation at the entrance and throughout the park, right, Sabine?”

Sabine looked up from her laptop. “Yes. They’ll check IDs and have facial recognition tech on-site. The fewer recognizable people we can plant there, the better.” She returned to her work.

“Excellent thoughts, everyone,” The Librarian said quietly. There was nothing like a compliment from The Librarian to make you feel smart. “We’ll want Birdie to sneak in, cause some chaos to make Fuerte look bad, and get out safely. No big brawl.”

“All by myself?” Birdie asked, a bit hesitant. The last time she’d gone off by herself during a rally, she’d ended up with a fractured skull. “What if I get caught?”

“Not by yourself,” The Librarian said. “A few others should attend, too.”

“I’ll go with you in case something happens,” Cami said coolly. “I’ve got an old persona from my teen years that Fuerte’s team has never seen. We’ll go as school ‘friends.’ ” She used air quotes for the word friends. “But…no wasps. Right?”

“No, of course not,” Birdie said, frowning. “I wouldn’t bring my wasps to a setting like that.” She was getting tired of Cami and her challenges. Plus, Birdie’s heart pinched a little when Cami couldn’t call her a friend without using air quotes. She could barely meet the woman’s gaze.

Elena looked concerned. “Are you okay with this, Birdie? Just you two?”

Birdie’s face was taut. She had big ideas about what she wanted to do swirling around, but the thought of being virtually alone except for a super who didn’t really like her was adding a negative feeling to the swirl. To accomplish everything she had in mind, Birdie needed people who could do certain things to help her with the animals. And people she could trust to get her out of there if something happened. Despite the stinging, she lifted her chin and said with certainty, “I need more people. I think Seven is an obvious choice, but I need Tenner and Sasha there as well.” She scanned the room. “And Superfly.”

Superfly sat up, surprised and pleased to be included. Sasha side-eyed her twin nervously. Pascal gave her an encouraging look, but Viviana shifted in her chair. “Are you sure she’s ready? What are you planning to do?”

“She’s perfectly ready for the simple task I need her for,” Birdie assured her. She wasn’t about to let the former commander shut down her ideas before hearing them.

“We’ll need new disguises,” Birdie went on. “How do we handle the problem of facial scanning? We can’t change our facial features. Let’s not forget Fuerte has our images on video, which they will have imported into the system. And they for sure won’t let people through with mesh beekeeper face coverings if they’re checking photo IDs.”

“I’ve been looking into that issue, and I have some ideas,” The Librarian said. “Don’t worry about that part too much yet.”

Sabine, still slouched comfortably in her chair with her feet propped up on a footstool, was scrolling through a web page. “Birdie, how are you at art? Have you ever painted?”

“Uh, not really.” A not-small amount of angst began creeping up inside Birdie’s chest. They’d had a few pencils and pens at the hideout but used them sparingly to learn how to write—they hadn’t been for artistic purposes because they didn’t want to run out of lead or ink. “Why?”

“I’ve got my dad’s plans for the rally right here.” Sabine glanced up to explain. “When I left the palace after my TV interview, my dad cut me off from email and the intra-palace communications. But no one over there knew I had the master password to everything.” She smiled evilly. “So I found the memo. They’ve got face painters booked, and I have their names and addresses. They’ll be on the vendor guest list. If we have Troy take them out, Birdie and Cami can pose as them for the night.”

Paithoon’s eyes widened. He’d been plunged into this strange new world of supers and spies, and he wasn’t always sure what things meant. “Troy’s going to take them out?”

“If I have to kill ’em, I’ll kill ’em,” Troy said menacingly. He punched one fist into the other open hand.

“I think he’s joking,” Brix told Paithoon, but he wasn’t sure.

“He’s definitely joking,” Seven assured the younger boys.

“But I don’t know how to face paint,” Birdie said. “Why do we have to pose as people working the event? Wouldn’t that make us even more noticeable?” This was bringing back to mind the moments of panic when she was inside the lectern and Magdalia was struggling to deliver a speech while having her memory wiped constantly. Birdie had been frantic, trying to feed the speech to Magdalia line by line.

“Posing as workers on a guest list means the guards won’t be looking at you closely,” Sabine said. “They’ll be searching the crowd for our team. They won’t expect any of us to be working the event.”

“Oh,” Birdie said. “That makes sense, but I still don’t know how to paint.”

“Don’t worry about it, Birdie,” The Librarian said. “I’ll teach you some tricks of the trade. You need to offer a few simple design options, and limit it to those.”

“Okay,” Birdie said, still unsure.

“Cabot,” The Librarian said, “can you order us some face paint? And we’ll also need something called special effects facial wax—a bunch of it. Do you need my credit card info?”

Cabot squelched a grin. “What do you think?” she asked sweetly.

The Librarian chuckled. “You’re dangerous, kid.”

“You know how to do face paint?” Brix asked The Librarian.

“Don’t be silly, Brix,” The Librarian teased. “Of course I do. I’m a librarian.”

Cabot was busily searching for the requested items. “Do we need some sort of official photo identification cards for everyone? I’m not sure how we make those, but I doubt they sell that kind of stuff on the websites I’m allowed to visit.” She had a feeling that making a fake ID was probably very much against the law.

“I don’t have a plan for IDs yet,” The Librarian said. “Cami?”

“My acquaintance is in my home country,” Cami said, glancing warily at Viviana. It was strange talking about illegal things in front of her. “Don’t you have someone here?”

“Not anymore,” The Librarian said. “I haven’t needed one in a long time.”

“What are they talking about?” Paithoon whispered. Brix shrugged.

The former commander, who’d been uneasy about the plan since Sasha was thrown into the mix, put her fingers in her ears. “I do not want to hear this conversation,” she said. She got up and left the room, muttering “Carry on” as she disappeared around the corner.

Troy had turned to Elena and was looking sharply at her.

Elena squirmed and stared hard at a big piece of nothing on the carpet.

“Elena?” Troy said, emphasizing each syllable. Everyone looked at her.

“What, Troy?” Elena glared at him.

Troy sat back and folded his arms over his chest. “Are you going to tell them about your little side gig, or should I?”

Prepping

Sasha spent Thursday making larger and larger portals in solid objects and holding them for as long as possible while Brix timed her. Superfly worked on his flight stamina, training while carrying weighted objects. Inspired by the others, and with nothing better to do, Lada went out to where the grass met the trees to practice teleporting with her wheelchair, wanting to hone in on her precision when there were obstacles in the way. Tenner did a few practice runs of holding his breath for long stretches since he hadn’t had to use that ability much lately, except for during the smoky, post-explosion moments in the palace dungeon months before. And Seven coached the new supers about what to expect from the mission. He also trained them in using earpieces, of which The Librarian had purchased an ample supply for the growing team.

Inside, Sabine combed the internal palace communications for new information, then consulted with Birdie and helped her build a plan. They decided only Birdie and Cami would impersonate people from the guest list—the face painters. The rest of the team would enter the event with tickets Sabine reserved on the website, like ordinary supporters. Because their jobs would happen elsewhere in the zoo and they wouldn’t be in the audience, there was no need to have Troy “take out” any more existing guests.

The Librarian taught Birdie and Cami how to face paint. The air between Birdie and Cami stayed crisp and professional as they practiced painting designs on each other and the other supers. Birdie got pretty good at making a turtle, but the other animals she tried turned out looking like messy blobs with eyes, tails, or beaks. Cami’s hand was steadier with the brushes.

“Maybe I’ll just stick with turtles,” Birdie muttered.

“Kids will be like, ‘I want a toucan,’ ” Cami quipped, “and you’ll get tough and say, ‘It’s a turtle or nothing!’ ”

Birdie laughed. “I’ll practice my tough voice.” She was glad for the moment of levity between them. Maybe Cami was starting to ease up on her grudge. But Birdie wasn’t about to let her guard down—when Cami got mad, her accusations were sharp.

“Hey, friends,” said Caliro while Birdie painted a turtle on her cheek, “can I try out a new joke on you all?”

“No!” shouted everyone in listening distance.

“Aw, come on!” said Caliro. “It’s a really good one. I think you’re going to like it.”

“No thank you,” Birdie said. Her nerves about the next day were building. “Not right now, okay? I need to focus on this.” When Caliro looked bummed, Birdie sighed. “I’ll find Brix for you. He won’t care.” She texted Brix to come inside.

“What’s up?” Brix’s cheeks were ruddy from the cool air.

“Caliro has a new joke to try out on you. Okay?”

“Sure, why not,” said Brix.

“Hang on, let me finish this.” Birdie completed the turtle, inspected it, compared it to the one The Librarian had painted, and nodded, satisfied. She directed Caliro and Brix to go a proper distance away to do the joke as a few others showed up to watch Caliro but not participate.

“Okay, Brix,” Caliro said, her eyes brimming with mischief. “Why was nine afraid of seven?”

Brix frowned. He’d heard a joke similar to this, but before he could interject to say she was telling it wrong, he was overwhelmingly compelled to respond. “Why?” He started grinning uncontrollably in anticipation.

“Because Seven eight Tenner!”

Despite the fact that Caliro directed the joke at Brix, the whole room tittered with laughter, and Brix fell to the floor holding his stomach and rolling around, barely able to breathe.

Even Birdie giggled. “Clever one, Caliro,” she said. “I’m not sure it’ll work on anyone who doesn’t know Tenner and Seven, but you were right—that was really funny.”

•   •   •

On Friday morning, Elena sat at the desk in the great room wearing a small headlamp. A variety of tools and supplies were scattered around her, including lanyards attached to empty plastic sleeves. On the dining room wall hung a large light-blue sheet, perfectly ironed, that would serve as a background for the photos. A new instant-print camera was perched on a table next to it.

“I can’t believe my own mother used to make fake IDs,” Brix said. “That’s against the law.”

“I’m pretty sure you knew I was a criminal,” Elena said, picking up a magnifying glass and examining some text and a watermark. She compared it to Sasha’s school identification card that she’d used until coming here. “Besides, they’re only school badges. Barely a misdemeanor.”

“Just don’t end up in the penitentiary with my parents,” Cabot said sarcastically as she unpacked the boxes of uniforms and facial wax that had arrived the day before. It was getting easier to joke about the situation, which made it more comfortable for her.

“I think the punishment for this would only be a fine,” Elena said. She directed a small, super-sharp knife with precision. “Are any of the actors ready for photos yet?”

“Vince added extensions to Sasha’s hair, and he’s braiding it now to start her new look,” said Cabot. “She hasn’t gotten her face work done yet.”

“I’ll check on the rest of them.” Brix bounded out of the room, shaking the furniture and causing Elena to quickly pull her knife away from her work.

“Try not to bounce so hard, please,” Elena called after him.

“Sorry!” Brix halted abruptly, then moved slowly down the long hallway. He popped his head into the kids’ bedroom and found Tenner and Lada snuggled up, listening to a podcast together. “Tenner, my mom needs you and Superfly for your ID photos. Do you have your face wax on yet?”

“Not yet,” said Tenner.

“Do that first.”

“Obviously.”

Lada paused the podcast, and Tenner kissed her on the cheek and got up.

“I’ll go find Supes,” Tenner said, spontaneously giving Superfly a nickname. “I think he and Pascal are out back.”

Brix continued farther into the room to open the French doors of the sprawling bathroom. Cami, Birdie, and The Librarian were working at a makeup station in front of the big mirror and sink.

Cami had transformed into the teenage persona she’d told them about: a tall girl with light brown skin and long brown hair in two thick braids. She was wearing a green and navy-blue plaid skirt with a navy polo shirt. She leaned against the wall and watched as The Librarian applied the last bit of wax to change Birdie’s facial shape.

It was as unsettling as always for Brix to see Cami looking like a complete stranger. Especially one so young. “Uh, Cami, are you ready for your photo? My mom was asking.”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Cami smoothed her braids, snapped her gum, and headed for the great room. Brix stayed in the bathroom, watching The Librarian press small lumps of wax on Birdie’s face.

“Okay, Birdie, now we’ll hide the wax behind some makeup,” The Librarian said. Using a sponge, The Librarian covered Birdie’s new face with foundation that matched her skin tone. She blended it in with a brush, then added some cheek color, mascara, and lip gloss.

“Whoa. You look weird,” Brix said.

“Go away,” Birdie retorted with an offended laugh. “That’s not nice.”

“I meant different,” said Brix. “Sorry.”

Birdie frowned. “It’s okay.” The Librarian hadn’t let her turn her head to look in the mirror yet.

Finally, after putting green contact lenses in Birdie’s eyes to change her eye color, The Librarian swiveled her on the makeup chair and let her have a look.

“Oh, wow!” Birdie exclaimed, touching her face gingerly. Her jawline was rounded out, her nose was more triangular instead of button-like, and her cheekbones were sharper and more distinct. Her irises had an olive-green tint. “I don’t look like Birdie anymore, that’s for sure.”

“Let’s change your hair now to complete the look. Brix, I’ll be ready to do face wax and makeup on the next person in about ten minutes—can you round them up?” The Librarian picked up a curling wand and started curling Birdie’s straight dark hair, leaving the curls in steaming ringlets.

“Already on it,” Brix said. “Tenner and Superfly will be here shortly. I’ll tell Sasha that it’s her turn soon. Vince is doing her braids.” He ducked out as The Librarian picked up a hair product canister.

The Librarian sprayed Birdie’s hair to set the curls. Once they were cooled off, The Librarian ran her fingers through the tight ringlets to loosen them. She gathered the hair to the back of Birdie’s head and put it up into a messy bun, leaving curly bits falling out, and pulled a few more strands out near Birdie’s forehead to frame her new face.

“This is amazing,” Birdie said when all was done. “No wig necessary. I look like a different person!”

“I thought you’d be relieved not to have to worry about a wig after last time,” The Librarian said. “You look great. Now, go get your uniform on and take your photo. And then we’ll make it absolutely obvious that you and Cami are the face painters.”

Cabot presented Birdie with a school uniform similar to Cami’s that she’d found on her favorite uniform store website. The two would look like they came directly from school to help out at the rally. What was more innocent than that? When chaos ensued, no one would suspect the busy teenage face painters of anything.

Elena took the photos and finished the school ID badges for Birdie and Cami. She gave them the names of the face painters. Birdie’s new fake name was Gwen Song, and Cami’s was Anna Garcia.

Birdie looked at her badge, wondering who the real Gwen Song was and feeling guilty…and a little bit nervous for her. She sought out Troy, finding him in his office typing madly on his computer. “What’ll happen to the real face painters? You’re not going to hurt them, are you?”

Troy looked up. He was wearing black-framed reading glasses, something he’d started doing recently for close work, making his solid black eyes slightly magnified and his whole appearance seem more writerly and mature. “No, I won’t hurt them,” he said in a kind voice. “I’m just going to disable their vehicle so they can’t get to the zoo. Remove the spark plugs. Then, in case they find another ride there, I’ll tail them and cause a traffic distraction to delay them some more. Sound okay, kiddo?”

Birdie smiled at the endearing term. She really liked the new Troy a lot. “Yeah, that’s good. Thanks.”

“You got it.” Troy resumed typing, then paused and glanced at her again. “Your disguise is great, by the way. I wouldn’t have known it was you except by your voice.”

“Good.” Birdie watched him as he went back to his work. Who knew Troy Cordoba would end up being a big old softie? After losing her father, it was nice having a dad type around again. Birdie’s eyes misted over as she turned and went to help out the others.

Tenner and Superfly got their faces altered and makeup done to cover the wax. Both of them were made to appear older so they could pass for extra hired security guards. Cabot found aviator-style glasses with lenses that darkened in the sunlight but went clear in the dark, so they wouldn’t have to remove that part of their disguise when the sun went down. Cabot had also found muscle padding, which they donned beneath their clothes to make them appear beefier. Tenner wore a thin wet suit underneath, which he’d need for his part of the plan. Once they put on their black suits, shades, shoes, and security badges, the pair looked extra tough, especially with the added padding. Elena provided them with IDs—not with their real names, of course.

Sasha’s finished braids extended down to her waist, with several purple plaits added in as well. “Your dad did a great job with this,” The Librarian said as she ushered Sasha into the makeup chair.

“He’s been doing my braids since I was little, but I’ve never had extensions until today.”

“Has he braided extensions before?” The Librarian examined the work closely, impressed.

“He watched a bunch of tutorials,” Sasha said with a grin. “Because my hair was in coils in the family photo that the newspaper posted, we decided to switch it up.”

“Good call.” The Librarian applied Sasha’s facial wax, then added makeup.

Cabot came in holding a uniform as The Librarian was finishing up. “I found a junior ranger disguise for you,” she told Sasha. “It looks similar to the ones the volunteers wear at the zoo—brown pants, khaki button-down shirt, and camo-print neck scarf. You’ll look like one of them, and you can pull the scarf up to hide your face if you need to. But your whole look is incredible. I wouldn’t recognize you unless I saw you making portals.”

Elena made an ID for Sasha, and Sabine gave her a ticket. The team ate a hasty meal before they started packing up their supplies. Puerco trotted around expectantly, waiting for his porcupine-quill saddle.

“No, Puerco, not this time,” Birdie told him. “You can stay home with Cabot and Brix. We’ll have enough animals to keep track of.” She felt his wave of disappointment, but she was a little worried about all the animal voices that would be in her head once they got to the zoo. It made it hard to concentrate. Plus she didn’t think the zoo would allow her to bring in a pig—that could cause even more problems.

Cami and Birdie quickly returned to the face paint supplies so they could paint examples on each other’s cheeks. Birdie felt pretty confident by now painting turtles. Cami could do pigs that looked like Puerco, toucans, and lions.

“A Puerco for me, please,” Birdie said.

“Aaand I guess I’ll have a turtle,” said Cami.

Birdie laughed, but her jitters had been building about the plan. She wanted everything to go perfectly for once. No injuries, no one left behind, no problems. But she kept getting stuck on one part of her plan. As Cami painted Puerco, Birdie pulled out her notes and a hand-drawn map, and asked Cami for advice. “I have Tenner and Superfly here doing this,” she said, pointing to the map, “but I feel like I need Lada, too. It’ll go faster.”

“I think so, too,” said Cami, agreeing with Birdie for the first time ever.

Birdie called to The Librarian and Elena. “I hate to do this to you, but I’d like one more person to go along. Do we have time for face wax, hair, photo, and a new ID?”

“I think we can make that work,” The Librarian said, and Elena nodded. “Who’s it for?”

“Lada,” said Birdie.

“Do you have a uniform in mind already?” asked The Librarian.

“I have an extra junior ranger uniform, if it helps,” Cabot said. “I wasn’t positive about the sizing, so I got two. The extra one should fit Lada and not be too binding for her in her wheelchair.”

“That’s perfect,” Birdie said. “I’ll tell Lada.”

“I’ll get started on her ID,” Elena said, heading back to her desk.

Birdie searched the mansion before discovering Lada outside, constructing a cornhole game with Pascal and Viviana. Birdie leaned out the door. “Hey, Lada! Are you up for coming to the zoo with us? And how do you feel about apes?”

Setting Up

“Time to go, Zoo Team Eight!” Brix called from the doorway as the group prepared to launch: Birdie and Cami as high school student face painters, Seven as himself, Tenner and Superfly as security guards, Sasha and Lada as junior ranger zoo volunteers, and The Librarian, who would be driving the zoo team and keeping an eye on the entrance. Everyone but Seven, Cami, and The Librarian had wax-altered faces and their hair done differently. The Librarian wore a wig and dark glasses in case anyone from the palace spotted her in the parking lot. And they all had earpieces.

Troy had left already to disable the original face painters’ vehicle and keep them from showing up at the zoo. He’d promised to update The Librarian on how his plan was going.

Brix held Puerco out in front of him so everyone could rub his head or tummy for good luck on their way out. Brix was bummed not to go along on this mission, but Cabot was currently working her green glowing eyes in hopes of convincing a second driver to take them close enough to the zoo so they could listen in on the earpiece chatter.

“Be careful, Sasha,” Viviana said, the lines around her eyes etching deeper. “Follow the plan, but don’t do anything that can get you in trouble.” She hesitated. “You’re not doing anything too bad, are you?”

“Mom,” Sasha said gently, “I thought you didn’t want to know what the plan was because you felt guilty.”

“I lied,” Viviana said. “I’m just…I’m nervous for you. I’m still getting used to this.”

“I hear you,” Sasha said, pulling a handful of long braids forward. “But it’s going to be fine. We’re not there to start a fight.”

“It’ll be okay, Viviana.” The Librarian slung her bag over her shoulder. “One quick stunt for Sasha and she’ll be done with her part.”

“Okay, okay.” Viviana stepped back as The Librarian gave her a reassuring smile and headed out the door. The rest of the gang was right behind.

“I can drive if you want to stay home,” Cami told The Librarian as they signaled the guards to prepare the gate.

“Not disguised like that, you can’t,” The Librarian said, heading for the SUV. “You don’t have a driver’s license for this persona.”

“Ah, right.” Cami grinned and snapped her gum. Then she spit it out into the wrapper and handed it to a security guard. “Can you toss that for me? I can’t do this gum thing anymore.”

“I don’t think teens are big gum chewers and snappers these days,” Seven remarked as the startled security guard put the wrapped-up gum in his pocket since there were no trash receptacles in the driveway.

Cami frowned. “I think you just called me out of touch with the teen scene.”

The younger ones snickered.

“Try not to embarrass us, Cami,” Lada said with a grin as she powered her chair toward the rear of the SUV. Seven followed to help stow it.

“Anyway,” The Librarian said, steering the conversation back to what was important, “I’ll be right outside the zoo in case you need me. We’ve got some first-timers here. If anyone gets in trouble, simply call, text, find me, or tell me how I can help you through your earpieces.” She got into the vehicle and started it as the others climbed in.

“Got it,” Sasha said. Seven had trained her well on the communication device, and she felt confident operating it. But she was slightly on edge about the whole thing. It didn’t help that her mom was worrying. But Viviana had taught her a lot over the years—techniques to protect herself and tips to get out of trouble if she were in it. She was prepared.

“Did you take your anti-nausea meds, Birdie?” Tenner asked, hovering over the seat next to her.

“Sure did, bro,” Birdie said cheekily. “Why, do you want to sit by me or something?”

“Meh.” Tenner shrugged, feigning indifference. Sometimes when Birdie acted extra friendly with him like this, he thought back to how things used to be in the hideout, when she ignored him and he was constantly awkward and anxious about saying the wrong thing. He was glad he’d learned how to believe in himself and be more confident…and that Birdie had grown kinder and more patient with him. It made everything more fun.

“I suppose I’m stuck with her again,” Seven muttered.

Birdie snorted and lunged at him, knowing full well Seven would anticipate and dodge. “You can have the front today.”

Cami sat between Sasha and Superfly in the back row, Lada went with Tenner and Birdie in the middle, and Seven took the front passenger seat for once. The Librarian waved to the guards and headed out toward the zoo.

“Okay, listen up, everyone,” Birdie said, growing serious. “As you know, the rally begins at seven p.m. That’s well after sunset, so remember it’ll be dark before our operation really goes into full swing. The zoo paths have ground lighting, and there are overhead lights at intervals between habitats. Cami and I will set up and start face painting as people are let in at six fifteen. I’ll also be speaking to the animals during that time to warm them up and get them ready to look for you. Remember to turn on your mics and let me know once you’re in place. You’ll have plenty of time to get to your stations and talk through your game plans. Good so far?”

Everyone responded in the affirmative.

“Great,” Birdie went on. “When I speak to the animals, I’ll ask if they’re up for an adventure, and I’ll keep you posted so you know if your animal wants to participate. If they don’t, I’m sorry, but your job ends there.” She turned to look at the backseat. “Sasha, you’ll be with Seven. Are you good with your plan?”

“I’m good,” Sasha said, playing it cool. She’d studied the zoo map for hours while her dad did her braids and learned everything she could about her animal. And she’d been practicing her ability constantly over the past few days. Her range and holding power had increased dramatically since she’d moved into the mansion. Now she could create an opening in a solid structure that was big enough for her dad to walk through without bending over, and she could hold it for over twenty-five seconds. “Don’t forget we need to coordinate the timing, though.”

“Yes, that’s at the top of my mind,” Birdie assured her. She turned back to the group. “Once you’ve completed your task, make your way to the SUV. Everyone clear?”

They all understood.

“Great. Now wipe your phones and make sure your locator is turned off.”

Back at the mansion, the adults who could drive were trying to avoid Cabot’s green glow. The zoo was too far away to walk to, and it would be too dark to use the scooters. Troy was otherwise engaged. Elena and Caliro were working with Vince, Pascal, and Paithoon on their abilities and refused to look Cabot’s way. Sabine was logged into the palace interoffice site, monitoring it for any crucial updates that could foil their plans.

Cabot finally abandoned her ability. She and Brix found Viviana inside, nervously pacing in front of the picture window, punching a text message on her phone screen with angry thumbs. They seized the opportunity.

“If you want,” Cabot ventured, “you can listen in on what’s happening with the team at the zoo. Brix and I will go with you. We just need to be within a short distance of the zoo to be in range.”

“Looks like the overflow parking lot would work,” Brix said, studying the zoo layout on his phone.

Viviana stopped pacing and eyed them. “I don’t want to be recognized—if anyone sees me at a Fuerte event after declaring my support for Magdalia, that’ll cause huge problems.”

“We don’t have to be in the parking lot,” Cabot said. “We can park on a side street bordering the property.” She produced her earpiece to show Viviana. “Did The Librarian give you one already? If not, I can find an extra one for you.”

“And I bet we even have some vinyl window tinters somewhere,” Brix said. “They’re not permanent—they pull off easily in case you’re worried about messing up your car. Please?”

Viviana hesitated. Dark tinted car windows were illegal. So was probably everything the supers were doing inside the zoo. This whole ordeal had her on edge, especially the part about Sasha being involved. But she wasn’t the police chief anymore. And ousting Fuerte was of the utmost importance—she knew that, which is why she’d risked her career for it. If they didn’t get him out now, things would spiral quickly for Estero. Plus, if she did this, she could keep an ear on Sasha. She relented. “I’ll get my keys.”

Brix and Cabot grabbed their backpacks, and soon the three were on their way with their windows tinted and their earpieces ready to go. Viviana drove like a cop, sure of every move and knowing the streets like the back of her hand. She didn’t need Cabot’s offer of directions. Before the kids knew it, they were rolling down a side street that had a line of overgrown hedges stretching along it. Enmeshed in the greenery was an old iron fence as far as they could see, the top of which rolled and dipped and curled whimsically. On the other side of the street was an olive tree farm. In the distance, there was a single white farmhouse surrounded by mature trees. Viviana slowed the car and pulled over onto the side of the road.

Brix pressed his nose against the window in the backseat. “Is the zoo around here?”

“Yes. It’s right on the other side of that massive hedge,” Viviana said, scoping out their location. The road had little traffic, and the farmhouse was far off. “I’ll wager we can hear animals from here.”

Cabot was intrigued by the iron fence, which seemed familiar to her. Images flashed through her mind as she took in the design and the rust spots and the overgrown hedges pushing through the bars. Two images flashed repeatedly. The first was from when she’d read about her parents going to jail and she’d thought she found an exit, but the gate wouldn’t open. Her memory of that gate was fuzzy, no doubt due to the emotional circumstances. But she remembered leaning against a fence when she was falling apart—probably this fence. The second image that flashed in her mind was more clear. It was of a tiny black-and-white photo of a fence that looked a lot like this one, but it wasn’t taken over by hedges. Where had she seen that picture? Her mind wasn’t immediately producing the answer.

But then Cabot’s memories sorted themselves out, dropping the images into their proper mental files. She studied the fence, following the curves and rungs with her eyes. “Is this the original fence? From when the zoo first opened?”

“I suppose it could be,” Viviana mused. “It was a smaller zoo back then. They expanded it decades ago.”

“Any idea where the original entrance was? Around here, maybe?”

Viviana shrugged. “It could have been, since this is the older part of the zoo.”

Before Cabot could explain why she wanted to know, Brix interrupted, an earpiece firmly in his ear. “They’re waiting in the security line,” he reported. “Soon they’ll be through and heading to their stations. Buckle up, Viviana, and don’t forget to put your microphone on mute so we don’t disturb them. This is going to be great.”

But Cabot had other plans. She put her earpiece in and muted her mic, then peered outside. Seeing no one, she opened the car door. “Come on, Brixy. Let’s take a quick look around.” She smiled at Viviana. “You can stay here. We’ll be right back.”

Monkeying Around

Birdie had put her earpiece in as she and Cami waited in line together. Even though the device was visible with her hair up, it worked with her disguise—like she was listening to music. Way back when they first came to Estero and had a million questions, Lada had explained why they saw so many earpieces in teens’ ears. She’d said that they weren’t on a secret mission, they were listening to their favorite tunes. So Birdie figured she’d fit right in.

Cami followed her lead. Birdie wasn’t about to mention that she was even less in tune with Estero’s teens than Cami was. She would just fake it.

After she and Cami breezed through the security checkpoint with their school IDs, and put their face paint supplies through the X-ray machine, they headed to the amphitheater to see where the program director wanted them to set up. “My knife made it through the X-ray machine,” Cami said quietly, impressed.

“You brought a knife?” Superfly whispered over the airwaves from somewhere behind them.

“I like to live on the edge,” Cami said. “I stowed it in the face paint kit.”

As they walked, Birdie heard confirmations from the other small groups in her party making it through security as well.

While a zoo worker set up a table and chairs for Birdie and Cami at the back of the presentation space seating area, Sasha strolled by alone—with Seven. Sasha barely glanced at the face painters, and they didn’t acknowledge her, either. Seven, who was tempted to tickle or startle Birdie, refrained for the greater good. This was a serious mission.

A few minutes later Superfly and Tenner, as security guards, with Lada in her wheelchair wearing a junior ranger disguise, passed by. Cami did a double take when she saw them, even though she’d seen them in the SUV. “That face wax really works,” Cami said under her breath to Birdie.

Birdie hadn’t expected Cami to make small talk with her, but she’d done it a few times that day already. She wasn’t sure if Cami was putting in the effort because they had to work together, or if she really was done testing Birdie and was trying to become a friend. “Yeah, it’s cool,” Birdie said, then cringed at how unoriginal her answer was. She could have mentioned that it was the best disguise element they’d had so far or told Cami about the wig she’d worn at the Magdalia rally that fell off when she was hiding in the lectern. Instead, she’d sounded unintelligent and dull. But what was she supposed to say when she kept expecting Cami to turn back into her harshest critic at any second? Besides, Birdie wasn’t exactly thinking about making conversation right now—she had a lot on her mind.

“I’m surprised the stuff doesn’t melt on your face,” Cami said.

“Oh. What? On my face?” Was Cami saying Birdie’s face was…too hot? Or something? She grew flustered. “Hmm.”

“I mean, it’s wax, right? And humans have a warm body temperature. What’s the probability of pieces, like, melting and sliding off?” Cami started taping the Free Face Painting sign to the painted cinder-block wall behind them. The sign showed images of the options: turtle, pig, toucan, and lion.

“I have no idea,” Birdie said. “But now I’m worried about it. Thanks.”

The Librarian interrupted. “Your wax will stay on your faces, everyone. Even if you get hot or sweaty or wet. Just try not to touch your face too much.”

“Well, there you have it.” Cami flashed Birdie a crooked grin.

“Thanks, Librarian,” Birdie said. She offered the faintest ghost of a smile back at Cami, still wary.

They listened to the idle chatter of the other kids heading to their locations as more vendors began to populate the area, setting up their games and Fuerte merch. Someone displayed a life-sized cardboard cutout of the president for photos, which made Cami wrinkle up her nose. Zoo volunteers added rows of folding chairs behind the existing built-in benches.

Birdie stepped behind the table and faced away from Fuerte’s nearby security guards and spoke softly to the team. “Progress update? Seven?”

“Sasha and I are in place,” Seven said.

“Tenner?” prompted Birdie.

“All three at the water’s edge,” Tenner said.

“Great. I’ll start warming up our animal friends.” Various animal voices had been in her mind from the moment they’d driven into the parking lot, and they were chatty tonight. Birdie looked back toward the entrance and realized more of Fuerte’s guards were streaming in. And they weren’t staying in the presentation area. Some started walking to other parts of the zoo. Birdie caught Cami’s eye. “I’m going to use the restroom to do this. Are you okay here?”

“Sure thing,” Cami said as a group of kids ran up to their table. “Hi, kids!” Cami seemed excited to see them. She was an excellent actor.

“We’d like face paint, please,” one of them said.

Birdie hesitated, not wanting to leave all the work to Cami. “Who wants a turtle?” she asked. She could do that one quickly. One of the kids volunteered, and Birdie hastily painted a circle of green with four grayish-green legs and a grayish-green head. She drew a pattern on the shell in black, then put two dots on the turtle’s head for eyes. “There you go!” Before the next kid could come up, Birdie excused herself.

She darted around the wall and started walking to the food court next door, where some families were already gathered to eat dinner before the rally. Birdie weaved through the tables of diners and past some of Fuerte’s security team and went into the bathroom. She peeked under the four stall doors, all of them empty, then ducked into the farthest one from the door, focusing on the stream of animal voices in her head.

Within a minute she picked out the buff-cheeked gibbons’ unique voices and spoke to them. Hello, friend Jefe. Hello, friend Nena. Hello, friend Peque. A chorus of excited greetings filled her mind, and she smiled. They remembered her! She loved her ability! Three of my friends are there near you, on the shore. Tenner, Lada, and Superfly. “Tenner, Lada, Supes, can you acknowledge the gibbons, please?” Birdie said softly through her microphone. “Wave, smile, nod, make sure they see you.”

“On it,” Lada said.

“Are any of Fuerte’s guards there?” Birdie asked. “They’re on the move, casing the area beyond the amphitheater.”

“I’m monitoring,” Tenner said. “Thanks, Bird. Sasha and Seven, let us know if you see any guards pass by heading our way.”

“Copy,” Sasha said.

Birdie turned her attention back to the gibbons. Ape friends, these humans are safe. Do you still want to get off the island? They will come to your space and help you get to the mainland so you can have an adventure. Would you like that?

The gibbons were silent for a moment, long enough to make Birdie fear she’d lost the connection with them. But she didn’t need to have an animal ability to hear them burst into siren-like howls—their voices carried across the water and echoed in her mind. Yes!

“All three gibbons are a go,” Birdie whispered excitedly.

“Awesome,” said Tenner. “I’m stripping down to my wet suit, stashing my clothes until I’m back on the mainland. I’ll leave my earpiece with my suit once you say go, so I’ll be out of touch for a bit.”

“Roger that.” Birdie told the gibbons that her friends would approach in different ways. Jefe, Tenner will swim over and carry you on his back as he swims to the mainland. Your feet might get wet, but Tenner will keep you above water. Okay?

Jefe agreed.

“Go ahead, Tenner,” Birdie said. Nena, Lada will appear on your island rather suddenly in her wheelchair. You can climb onto her lap, and she’ll get you across instantly. Okay?

Nena chirped eagerly.

“Lada, you’re good to teleport whenever the coast is clear.” Birdie moved on to the third and final gibbon. Peque, our friend Superfly will fly over to the island, pick you up, and fly back to the mainland. Is that all right?

Peque hooted happily.

“Peque is clapping enthusiastically,” Superfly said, laughter in his voice. “I assume that means we’re good to go?”

Birdie smiled. “Yep, you’re clear to fly over.” She told the gibbons, Once you’re free to move about the zoo, come find me!

Just then, the door to the bathroom slammed open. Birdie gasped, but stayed in her stall. She ducked, seeing boots coming toward her. The kind of boots Fuerte’s guards wore.

The Chase Begins

Birdie blew out a breath as the guard boots shuffled into the bathroom stall next to hers. The guard wasn’t coming after her—she needed to pee. Birdie wasn’t sure what to do next, though. Flush and leave? Wait it out? She still needed to connect with the other team.

Cami sounded softly in her ear. “Everything okay in there, Birdie? People are arriving. We have a line of snotty six-year-olds.” She sounded disgusted, which was more like what Birdie was expecting from Cami—the excitement must’ve worn off.

Unable to speak due to the guard next door, Birdie recalled Cami’s number from memory since she’d wiped her phone, then texted her: I’m fine but stuck here with a security guard in the next stall. Still need to speak to Sasha, Seven, and llama.

Cami immediately responded with a thumbs-up emoji and I’ll hold down the fort.

Birdie wiped the conversation from her phone, then began the search with her mind for the llama’s hum. It was hard to find it with all the other chatter, but soon Birdie plucked it out of the din. Hello, friend Gertrude. How are you? Do you see our friends? They’re by the fence.

The toilet flushed next to her, and the stall door opened. Birdie peered through the tiny slit to see what the guard looked like. The llama hummed a greeting and replied, inviting Birdie to come to the habitat for a race.

My friends are there to guide you. When they open the fence, do you want to walk through and have an adventure racing around the zoo?

The llama burst into resounding affirmations. Birdie grinned, imagining the llama galloping around her pen in excitement.

The guard slammed the bathroom door open again and left without washing her hands. Birdie gagged a little but was glad she was gone.

Birdie gave the llama instructions through her mind, then spoke to Sasha and Seven. “Gertrude should be approaching the fence where you are standing. When the coast is clear, create the passage and let her out.”

“Copy that,” said Sasha. “Here she comes! Oh my gosh, I’m nervous.”

“It’s okay,” Seven told Sasha. “You know what to do. I’ll be near the road keeping watch for security if you need anything.”

Birdie coached Gertrude to go up to the fence near the girl. Sasha and Seven were quiet.

“All three of us are on the island,” Lada reported. “The gibbons have gathered, and we’re encouraging them to come to us. Oop! Hi, Nena!” Lada gave a startled laugh. “Nena is on my lap, and she’s wearing my glasses.”

A few of the team members laughed appreciatively.

“Birdie,” Cami interrupted, “there has to be over a thousand people here. Not nearly enough seating. Fuerte’s onstage talking to his advisers. Almost time to start.”

“My portal keeps closing before Gertrude can go through,” Sasha exclaimed, sounding stressed. “Seven, can you help me figure this out? I’m not sure what to do.”

“Coming,” Seven said. “We’ll get it. No worries.”

The gibbons screeched. Birdie tried coaxing the llama while ignoring all the other voices in her ear and mind.

“Welcome, everyone!” said President Fuerte over the loudspeaker. It echoed through the bathroom and the zoo.

“Try making it higher,” Seven suggested to Sasha. “Way up to the top bar so she doesn’t have to duck her head. She’ll step over the fence at the bottom. You got this.”

Come on, Gertrude. Birdie left her stall and hurriedly washed her hands. “I’m coming, Cami. Gibbon transport, are you making progress?”

“Gertrude is coming through!” Sasha said triumphantly. “Gertrude is safely out! She’s on the sidewalk! Oh my God, we did it!”

“Great job,” Birdie murmured as she continued coaching Gertrude to come visit her down the hill. “Gibbon crew? You must all be in transit.”

Then Birdie heard Seven sniff. And sniff again. “I smell someone,” he whispered urgently. “And it isn’t the llama.”

A second later, he and Sasha both screamed.

Absolute Chaos

Birdie burst out of the bathroom, hearing unidentifiable scuffling noises through her earpiece, and ran between the food court tables to the road. A couple hundred feet away, Cami knocked over her chair and, leaving her endless line of kids waiting for face paint, ran to the main road, too, searching for signs of anyone. She saw Birdie and charged toward her.

“What’s going on?” The Librarian demanded from the SUV. “Sasha? Can you hear me? Seven?”

They could only hear muffled shouts in reply. “Seven!” Birdie said, fear in her voice.

Lada, unaware, interrupted. “I teleported back to the mainland. Nena is on the loose and has ventured away—I got my glasses back first, thankfully. I’m watching Peque coming through the air and Jefe on Tenner’s back.” Then: “Wait, what’s happening?” More muffled shouting and scuffling and sounds of struggle filled her ear. “Is everyone okay?”

Birdie and Cami tore up the road together toward the llama enclosure. Fuerte’s voice boomed through the sound system, confusion pounded their ears, and animal chatter cluttered Birdie’s mind. “Seven!” Birdie said. “Are you there? Sasha!”

More scuffling noises ensued. Then the scuffling stopped, and the struggling sounds grew distant. “Help!” Seven said, like he was far from his earpiece.

“He lost his device,” Birdie said.

“Maybe on purpose,” said Cami, “so the guards can’t listen in. Let’s kept moving. Where’s the llama enclosure?”

“Up and to the right. The gibbons are a little farther on the left.”

“I’m back on the mainland with Peque,” Superfly reported, sounding breathless. “He’s running toward Nena. Tenner’s almost to shore with Jefe. How can we help?”

“Head to the llama habitat,” Birdie said. “Something happened. Sasha? Seven? Tap your mic if you can hear me.” No one tapped. “Someone found them. And I doubt it was park rangers—the mics picked up nothing from whoever got them.”

Just then Gertrude came trotting around the curve of the road, alone and humming in curiosity as she came upon Birdie and Cami.

“Gertrude! Over here!” Birdie exclaimed.

“I’m going to try to get into the park,” The Librarian said.

“Holy expletive,” Birdie muttered as the llama clip-clopped to her. Farther up she saw two of the three gibbons running her way. “I’m overwhelmed.” Was Seven okay? And Sasha?

Cami grabbed Birdie by the shoulders. “Listen. You take care of the animals and get the job done that we came here to do. The rest of us will handle Sasha and Seven and keep you posted. Okay?”

Birdie appreciated the instruction. She sucked in a breath and nodded, and Cami took off running. Bewildered, with a llama nuzzling and snorting at her neck, and a third gibbon rounding the curve behind the others, Birdie spoke to the animals, greeting them in person. When the gibbons caught up, she started jogging toward the amphitheater, beckoning them to follow. Come! Run! Enjoy! she told them. Attack the speaking one if you feel like it, Jefe! Spit on him, Gertrude! Go with the zookeepers when they find you. They’ll keep you safe.

The mischievous foursome of animals agreed. As soon as they neared the crowd of people—including the cranky children who were still waiting for the face painters to come back—Birdie directed the animals to go on without her. She ran to the face paint table and hastily painted a few animals on kids’ cheeks so she could watch the scene unfold. Then some of the kids screamed. The adults turned to see why, and everyone started running.

The llama tromped through the crowd, and the apes jumped onto the top of the wall and ran along it. Screams and shouts of shock and delight rose up as the gibbons found posts to climb and stage-light scaffolding to swing on overhead. After a stunned moment, Fuerte blustered on with his speech, trying to push through the unexpected distraction. Then he hollered, too, as a gibbon dropped down on his head and shoulders. Security dove and people shrieked. The amphitheater was filled with so much noise Birdie could hardly hear what was happening with her team.

She dug through the face paints and brushes, finding Cami’s knife and slipping it in her skirt’s waistband. Then she spotted a park ranger who was hurrying toward the screaming and ran up to her. “Three buff-cheeked gibbons and a llama are loose!” she cried. “Go rescue them before Fuerte’s armed guards hurt them!”

The zoo employee got on her radio and spread the word. Birdie blew out a breath of relief. She looked back and saw other rangers, zookeepers, and volunteers running toward the amphitheater. The crowd had spilled out onto the zoo road, and people were heading for the exit. Security barred everyone from leaving until they could figure out who was responsible for the animal attack, which caused more yelling from the ones trying to get out.

“Anyone! Birdie! Can you hear me?” a voice sounded in Birdie’s ear.

“Cabot?” Birdie asked, incredulous. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m outside the zoo listening with Brix and Sasha’s mom. Is Sasha okay?”

Birdie was so confused. “I don’t know. Friends, do we have eyes on Sasha yet?”

There were no more muffled sounds, no more screams from Sasha, and no more cries for help from Seven.

“Almost to the llamas,” Tenner said, panting. “We didn’t pass anyone, and we don’t see anyone. Supes is flying around looking for them. Lada teleported in. Do you see anything?”

“There’s no one here,” Lada said. “No sign of them—just some gravel sprayed onto the sidewalk, which could’ve come from anyone.”

“Look for Seven’s clear earpiece,” Birdie said. “I think he lost it. Sasha’s too—hers is white.”

“I’m trying to get into the zoo, but they won’t let me in,” The Librarian whispered. “The place is locked down because of the loose animals. No one is going in or out. They are treating the people who want to leave like criminals and want to find out who is responsible for the disruption.”

“We’re going to get help,” Cabot shouted. Her voice was filled with static. “Out of range in a second. See you soon.”

“What? How?” Birdie demanded. She could hardly breathe, and she didn’t understand what was going on. But Cabot was gone. Birdie ran faster toward the llama habitat.

Tenner, Lada, Superfly, and Cami were searching the ground outside the enclosure when Birdie reached them. Tenner was still in his wet suit, having had no time to change back into his security garb, though he’d managed to grab his clothes and earpiece. Two of Fuerte’s guards ran down the hill toward the amphitheater, not noticing Birdie in the dark. Only a few confused rallygoers ran deeper into the zoo—most flooded to the locked-down exit. A zoo worker checked the llama habitat to make sure it was secure before heading toward the amphitheater.

“What do we do?” Birdie said, near tears. “Where are they?”

Cami muted her mic and signaled for everyone to do the same. “In case someone is listening in,” she explained. They all pressed their mute buttons.

“We should feel around for Seven in case he’s knocked out,” Tenner said, going along the llama habitat fence. He got down on all fours and waved his hands around. “Seven!” he called.

“Not so loud,” Birdie whispered, getting down, too. “They might still be nearby.”

Tenner, with his supersight and night vision, noticed something in the dirt catching the moonlight. He zeroed in on Seven’s earpiece and retrieved it. But there was no sign of Seven anywhere on the ground or the benches in the area surrounding the llama enclosure.

“We’re wasting time,” Birdie muttered. She strained to see anything, but darkness and giant habitats encumbered her view. “What was the last thing they said? Does anyone remember?”

“Sasha said the llama went through the passageway she made,” Cami said. “Then Seven said he smelled someone that wasn’t the llama. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Birdie and Tenner connected eyes. Of everyone here, they knew Seven best. Was it just a joke? Seven didn’t usually joke at times like this. Tenner took in a long sniff, closing his eyes. What was he picking up? Animal dung. Bougainvillea flowers. Dust. And, faintly, men’s cologne.

Tenner’s eyes flew open. “Has anyone seen Martim?”

Tough Day on the Campaign Trail

Earlier that day, when President Daniel Fuerte had put on his third-best suit for the “appeal to the ordinary families” evening event, he never imagined he’d get zoo doo-doo all over it. He also hadn’t expected a buff-cheeked gibbon to land on his head during the very important speech. He hadn’t wanted to do this at all, but his team had made him. With Magdalia’s poll numbers neck and neck with his, he needed to do something drastic. And now here he was, flailing about with a creature on his head.

“Get off me!” the president shrieked. “Help!” He bumped into the lectern and knocked over the microphone stand as he whirled around, blinded and overcome by smelly fur. When he lost his balance and fell to the stage, the gibbon leaped to a chair and howled. Fuerte hastily got to his feet, and the gibbon vaulted toward him again, this time wrapping his long arms around the man’s neck and biting him hard on the cheek. Fuerte screamed. The ape lithely jumped off Fuerte’s shoulder and swung away on the stage lights before the guards could grab him.

Fuerte fell again, face stinging. The crowd was half exclaiming in disbelief, half fleeing as two more gibbons sailed over their heads, swinging on the strands of lights the zoo had strung for this special occasion. As they passed overhead, they collected hair ribbons, hats, and glasses, tossing them to each other and putting them on their heads.

When a llama went galloping by the amphitheater, people in the road dove out of the way and scattered. The creature stopped, waiting for someone to chase after her, then galloped off again, racing them and winning every time. She kept most of Fuerte’s team occupied until the zoo employees arrived on the scene, while the rest of the guards rushed to help Fuerte up. He was bleeding profusely from the gashes on his face. “Who is responsible for this?” Fuerte roared. “Get these monkeys out of here!”

“They’re apes, sir,” one of the zookeepers said, pulling some fruit out of a pouch tied to his waist. “Peque,” the zookeeper called calmly. “I’ve got your favorite.”

“You’re an ape!” the president said. He wiped blood off his face and grimaced.

“That’s correct.” The zookeeper reached out with a few figs to entice Peque to come to him, but the littlest gibbon wasn’t fooled. He snatched up the fruit, stuffed it in his mouth, and soared past, out of reach.

“I hate animals!” President Fuerte yelled to his team near the still-live microphone. “We should’ve never done this ridiculous stunt. I told you we wouldn’t reach the families who actually matter—we need to be at country clubs and art museums and on luxury fundraiser cruises for that.”

People in the audience whirled around to frown at him. Some jeered and booed. More started filing toward the clogged exit—some disgusted, others wanting to escape from the loose animals. The llama strutted by again, humming brightly, staying barely out of reach of anyone attempting to catch her.

Fuerte’s medic came to the stage to check his facial wound. “It’s quite deep,” the woman said. “You need stitches. And probably a tetanus shot in case of diseases. You’d better go to the hospital for this.”

“Diseases?” the president squawked.

“It’s a nasty bite by a wild animal, sir,” the woman said.

“Can’t you stitch it up?”

“The wounds are deep and uneven, and they’re going to leave scars. You’ll want a surgeon to do the work. Unfortunately, you no longer have your own personal surgeon on staff, so…to the hospital you go.” The medic was clearly miffed about losing Greta Stone.

The president looked aghast. “Scars? In the shape of monkey teeth? On my face?”

“Yep,” the medic said cheerily, closing up her medical kit and ducking as one of the gibbons swung overhead and tried to swipe the kit from her. “Let’s get you to the hospital before your blood attracts the carnivores.” She chuckled to herself.

The audience thinned even more from the amphitheater area, realizing Fuerte was done as the guards formed a barrier around the president. They swept him off the stage and into an awaiting golf cart.

Searching for Clues

“Impossible,” Lada muttered. “Martim couldn’t kidnap Seven and Sasha. He’s injured. He’s been using a cane. If he did something to them, he didn’t do it alone.”

The Librarian sounded in their ears. “The crowd noises are coming in waves now—I’m looking through the fence, and I can see the gibbons making the rounds. And the llama is having the time of her life being chased. They just whisked Fuerte out of here—he appears to be bleeding from his face. There’s no way for me to get in. Guards are everywhere. They’re starting to let people leave one at a time.” She paused. “Troy pulled into the parking lot. I’ll fill him in.”

Cami unmuted her mic. “Just so we’re all clear,” she said with a growl, “we’re not leaving until we have Sasha and Seven.”

Birdie glanced at her. The bitterness in Cami’s voice seemed uncharacteristically harsh, even for her. She was being a decent person, which Birdie greatly appreciated during this difficult moment. A good ally in a fight. But why was Cami so angry? And then, with a start, Birdie figured it out. Cami had been the one left behind by Fuerte’s team in the museum battle. Left for dead in a heap on the cold marble floor. Was that why she’d left the president’s team? Was that why she’d been so hard on Birdie—did she worry that if Birdie was the type of super to use deadly weapons, would she also not blink about leaving a teammate behind? Birdie put her hand on Cami’s arm. “Thank you for saying that. We lost Seven once, and we won’t lose him again. And we’re not going to look Viviana and Vince and Pascal in the eye without being able to say we found Sasha.”

Cami caught Birdie’s gaze and held it. Then she nodded once sharply, and they got back to business. Cami did a final sweep of the pebble landscape near the fence, and her eyes landed on a white earpiece. “This is Sasha’s earpiece, right?” she asked quietly, holding it up. “We’re safe to chat on the airwaves again.”

They all reactivated their mics.

“Tenner, can you follow the scent?” asked Lada.

“Working on it,” Tenner said as he moved around the area. “Martim went this way.” He went up to a locked gate with a sign that said Employees Only and frowned. “They must’ve had an employee with them.”

“I’ve got this,” Lada said, pulling one of her crutches from the pouch and removing a lock-picking tool. She swiftly unlocked the gate, and Tenner opened it and started up the paved drive, going away from the zoo entrance. Lada replaced the tool and crutch. She and most of the others followed.

But Superfly hesitated. “It seems strange that they would go farther into the zoo instead of toward the exit. Are you sure about this Martim theory?” He didn’t want to question Tenner’s authority or ability, but he also didn’t want to waste time if this was the wrong choice.

“We’re sure,” Lada said grimly. “If they managed to get Seven, of all people, Martim had to have been involved.”

“What about the zoo employee?” Superfly asked. “Do you really think Fuerte had a secret employee working here? One in a high enough position to have keys? That seems like a big stretch.”

“They probably nabbed one and are threatening him—or they knocked him out and stole the keys,” Tenner said. “That makes more sense.” He hated that this was his first thought, but that’s how Fuerte’s team worked.

“Yeah, fair enough,” Superfly said. “But how would Martim have known Seven was there?”

“That part is still a mystery,” said Tenner, pressing forward. A hundred yards later he pointed to a fork in the path. “This way.” He moved quickly up the branch that led away from the gibbon habitat, toward the center of the zoo.

“Lada, do you mind if I push you?” Birdie asked. Her hands were shaking, but maybe gripping the handles would help steady them.

Lada glanced at her and saw that she was trembling. “Sure, Birdie. That would be great.” She hesitated, then added, “We’re going to find them.”

“I know.” But Birdie didn’t know. She took the handles and followed the others up the mild incline. She took a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself as she leaned in to the task. It helped to have something to hold on to when all she wanted was to hold Seven’s hand during the chaos. The noise in her head was deafening—all the earpiece chatter, the screaming crowd, the conversations with the four animals…And the rest of the zoo inhabitants were restless and trying to communicate, too. The elephant trumpeted. The peccaries snorted. The various apes and monkeys vocalized throughout the zoo—apparently word had gotten out that the gibbons were on the run, and they wanted Birdie to let them out, too. “Ugh, my head,” she muttered. “I can’t think clearly.” Now that they were mostly all together and they knew the missing two didn’t have earpieces, Birdie yanked hers out and pocketed it. “Let me know if anyone says anything important,” she said to Lada.

“You got it.” Lada reached back and gave Birdie’s hand a comforting pat. “It’s going to be okay.” She scanned the animal enclosures looking for movement and noticed the dark clouds roiling across the moon. The only other light came from the paths and an occasional streetlamp. “Looks like we might get a storm,” she said, checking her weather app. “Maybe the animals are being extra active because of that.”

“Maybe.” Birdie didn’t feel like explaining that the entire zoo had lost its mind.

As Tenner followed the scent of Martim’s cologne, and the rest of them followed Tenner through the private employee paths into the heart of the zoo, the crowd noise near the entrance grew faint. There were few people around the animal enclosures, as all employees and Fuerte’s guards had streamed toward the situation near the entrance. Now that the human noise was less chaotic, Birdie tried unsuccessfully to communicate with the three gibbons and Gertrude. But they were too far away or too busy to respond. She worried about them. Had she caused them harm? Even though they’d said they wanted to explore freedom, Birdie would feel the weight of responsibility for their well-being until she knew they were safely back in their designated places.

One of the lions started barking in Birdie’s mind. Birdie wearily took the opportunity to communicate. Hello, friend.

The lion didn’t respond to Birdie. “Typical cat,” she muttered. She was starting to wish Paithoon were here to make the lion be quiet. “Where could they have taken Seven and Sasha?” she asked, frustrated. “Anyone have ideas?” The wind began to pick up. Birdie glanced at the horizon and noticed the dark clouds and a flash of lightning. A soft rumble of distant thunder sounded.

“Someone must’ve told Martim and the guards that they wouldn’t be able to get out the exit,” Cami said. “They have to be in the zoo somewhere.”

“Unless the new super can teleport or fly,” Lada said. “Maybe that’s what Greta’s text to Magdalia was about.”

“I’m still picking up Martim’s scent now and then, but barely, because of the breeze,” Tenner said in a low voice. “He could be half a mile away or around the corner—I can’t tell. Everyone be ready in case they see us coming before we see them.”

Superfly flew up to have another look from above.

Birdie put her earpiece back in right as The Librarian gave an update. “I’ve seen several palace security guards leave in the last few minutes. Troy and I are on the lookout for Sasha and Seven, and Martim, too, but no sign of them so far. The zookeepers have safely collected all three gibbons, but the llama is still running free, from what I can see through the fence.”

The news about the gibbons made Birdie feel a bit better.

“Hold up,” said Tenner softly, peering through the darkness and sniffing. Everyone froze for a moment before Tenner motioned for them to follow. He slipped on a new set of fingerless leather gloves that had pointy plastic knuckles—his brass knuckles wouldn’t have made it through security. Birdie remembered Cami’s knife in her waistband and slipped it to her.

“I thought that was gone for good, along with the paint,” Cami whispered. “Thank you.”

Superfly landed gently. “Does anyone have an extra weapon?” He checked his belt. “I didn’t think my knife would make it through security.”

“I do.” Lada, who had electricity at her fingertips, reached around behind her to pull a tiny dart blower out of one of her crutches. She handed it to Superfly. “There’s a poison dart inside,” she said quietly. “No time to practice. If an attacker gets within ten feet of you, keep the blower pinched between your teeth with your lips sealed around it, and blow.” She summoned her electricity and felt it buzz at the tips of her fingers.

A gust of wind came across the vast, open giraffe enclosure, stirring up dust and completely blowing away what was left of Martim’s scent. “Can anyone else hear the lion?” Tenner asked softly.

Superfly, Cami, and Lada shook their heads.

“Only in my head with all the other animals,” Birdie said. “He won’t talk to me, though.”

“He’s really vocal. Barking and roaring. Makes me wonder if something’s going on there,” Tenner said grimly. “The lion habitat would be about the scariest place to ditch a couple of prisoners.”

Birdie sucked in a breath. She’d been picturing Seven and Sasha being taken to the palace prison. It hadn’t occurred to her that the kidnappers would have thrown their friends into an animal enclosure. Much less one so dangerous. “Oh no,” she whispered. Her heart pounded.

“I wouldn’t put it past Martim,” Cami said.

“But Seven is his son,” Superfly said. “Could he really do that to his own child?”

They all looked at one another, thinking the same thing: Yes. Yes, he could.

Then they started the trek across the zoo to the lions’ habitat.

Sirens

As soon as Viviana hit the gas and peeled onto the road, she reached under her seat and pulled out a red emergency police light that she still had from when she was police chief. No one had asked her for it when she’d been fired and ushered out. She hesitated to use it, knowing she probably should’ve turned it in later once she’d remembered it—not that she could have done so with the mobs trying to chase her down. But now lives were in danger. Viviana threw caution to the wind, rolled down her window, and stuck it on top of her car—she could apologize later. She pushed a button inside the vehicle to turn it on.

“Whoa,” said Brix, pressing against his backseat window trying to see the light. “I wonder how it sticks up there.”

“Why the library, Cabot?” Viviana demanded. “Explain.”

“You’ve got to trust me,” Cabot pleaded. “When Brix and I took that little walk, we found the original zoo entrance. It’s a gate with one of those big keyholes like people used back in the olden days. And it’s locked.”

“I climbed to the top of the gate,” Brix explained, sitting up, “to see if I could tell which animals this part of the fence is near.”

“When Brix looked down, he saw that the gate is chained and padlocked as well,” Cabot said.

“Like I said, why the library?” Viviana asked, with a bit of punch to her words.

“I saw a ring of keys at the library in the Estero Artifacts section, including one gigantic key. I think we can use those keys to open the gate.” After saying it out loud to Viviana, it didn’t sound quite as convincing as it had in her head.

“You think those keys will get through both locks,” Viviana stated. She sounded like she didn’t believe Cabot. “You realize it would be absurd for a librarian to put actual keys to an actual gate—including keys to the padlock—on full display less than two miles away, right? And then announce to the world that they’re keys to the original zoo door. They had to have changed the locks multiple times over the years.”

Cabot frowned. “But the key plate looked as old as the gate,” she said feebly. The woman had a point. “Besides, it’s our only shot. If we can open that gate, we can bring in the whole team to find Sasha and Seven. If you were still commander, we could’ve just plowed our way in the regular way. But you’re not.”

“I’m well aware of that,” the woman said, enunciating the words like she was holding back her annoyance. Seeing traffic ahead, she turned on the siren and sighed heavily. “And…you’re right. There’s a chance, I suppose. When a mom has to stay hidden and the zoo entrance is on lockdown and her kid is abducted, she’ll try anything. Are you sure the library is open this late?” She entered downtown Estero. Cars pulled over in front of them, and she sped past.

“Open until nine weeknights during the school year,” Cabot said, seeing the library hours sign in her mind. “We know some librarians here who might help us—we go here a lot.”

Viviana slowed as she proceeded cautiously through a red light and sped up again. “You two go in to get what we need, and text me if you have trouble.” Then she squealed around a corner, dodged a couple of parked cars, and came to an abrupt stop in front of the library. “Hurry!”

Brix and Cabot left their backpacks in the car and burst out of the vehicle. They bounded up the steps and into the library. Cabot dove beneath the turnstile and Brix vaulted over it, and they ran toward the Estero History section.

“Hey!” a librarian shouted, but the two kept going. They rounded the corner, nearly bowling over two gentlemen, and skidded into the section they needed.

Cabot searched the glass cases. “There!” she said, spotting the correct display with the keys and the black-and-white photo, just as she’d remembered them. “How do we open this thing?” She and Brix looked around the case for hinges or a handle or something that they could open to get what they needed.

“It’s locked,” Brix said, finding and tugging on a narrow handle in the center of the case. There was a small round lock below the handle. “We’re going to have to break the glass.”

They searched frantically for something sharper and heavier than a book. Before they could do anything, librarian Mila came running toward them. “What are you doing?” she cried, then realized who she was talking to. “Brix! Cabot! What’s going on?”

“We need these keys,” Cabot said. “Desperately. Two lives are in danger. We’ll explain later. Can you open this? Please?”

Mila stared. She looked at what the kids wanted and stared again. “The old zoo keys?”

“Yes!” Cabot jiggled so hard she was giving herself a headache. “Trust us! Please!” she begged.

Mila hesitated. “I’ll ask my boss.”

“There’s no time for that!” Brix said, bouncing in place. “Someone could die and it’ll be your fault.”

Mila blew out a breath. “Is The Librarian with you?”

“She’s in on this, yes,” Cabot said. Sort of.

“You’ll bring them back?”

“Absolutely!” Cabot promised.

The librarian pulled a key ring from her belt and found a tiny key. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered, and opened the case. Cabot’s hand shot out and grabbed the ring.

“Thank you!” she cried. She and Brix tore toward the exit.

Then Cabot slid to a stop near the checkout desk, her head spinning with an idea. “Go ahead, Brix—I’ll be right there.” She flung the keys to him, then turned back and raced to Mila as Brix caught the ring and bounced out to the car.

Cabot reached the bewildered librarian. “Do you have any of that canned air that you use to clean your computer keyboard? You know what I mean?”

“Uh…yeah. I think so.”

“I need a can of that. Desperately.” Cabot tried summoning her green glow, but everything was happening so fast that there hadn’t been time to do it before she asked the questions. “Hurry, please?”

Mila sighed. “If you’re pranking me, I’m going to be mad.”

“I’m not, I promise. Fuerte’s guys are messing with us again.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” Mila trotted to the supply area behind the checkout desk, near the archives room. She took a can off the shelf and trotted back to Cabot.

“Thanks—I owe you big-time!” Cabot said, grabbing the can. She dove back under the turnstile and out the door.

“You can just push through the turnstile, you know!” Mila called out after her. “It’s pretty fast!”

But Cabot was already gunning for the open car door and launching herself into the backseat next to Brix. “Go!” she cried, pulling the door shut and reaching for her seat belt.

Viviana turned the car around, tires squealing, and zoomed back the way they came, light flashing. She turned on the siren again. A number of vehicles pulled over for them. “This is amazing!” Brix cried, bouncing on the seat.

“Chill!” Cabot said. “And focus. We have to find Seven and Sasha!”

Soon they were back to the quiet streets by the zoo. Viviana turned off the siren and pulled the light inside the car, then drove where Cabot directed her, to the old zoo entrance. There was a driveway over the culvert. Viviana pulled in and turned off the car. Cabot and Brix grabbed their backpacks and raced to the gate.

By this time Cabot had removed the giant key from the ring. “Here!” she said, shoving the ring of smaller keys at Brix. “Can you climb over and try to unlock the padlock? I’ll work on the big lock from this side.”

“Yeah!” Brix bounced a couple of times to get higher, then grabbed on to the rusty iron bars and started climbing the rest of the way. He flipped over the top and started down the other side. After a moment he bounced to the ground.

Cabot ripped the overgrown bushes out of the way of the keyhole and inserted the giant key. It wobbled around loosely, as if the insides of the lock had been stripped. She grimaced, afraid Viviana was right—that someone would have done something to keep the key from working before putting it on display at the library. Still, she kept at it.

“I’m trying the keys for the padlock,” Brix reported through the gate. He kept track of the first key he used and went in order so he wouldn’t miss any. He could barely see Cabot and Viviana through the overgrowth and in the darkness, though Viviana had turned on a flashlight, which helped.

Unsuccessful, Cabot pulled out the big key and flipped it to put it in the other way. She went in as straight as she could, imagining herself a surgeon making a crucial cut with the scalpel, trying to find the mechanism that would turn the bolt. There had to be one, or else the gate wouldn’t be locked, right? Unless…unless it was rusted shut. Too bad she didn’t have any more explosives.

“The group inside is heading for the lion habitat,” Viviana said, her earpiece working again now that they were back in range. “That doesn’t sound good.” She began pacing. As a police officer, she’d been cool and collected under any circumstance. But this was her child in danger.

Brix turned his earpiece back on, and Cabot slipped hers into her ear. They kept their mics muted.

“Can you clear the weeds around the hinges?” Cabot asked Viviana. “Once we get this gate open, we’ll need to tug it loose from the hedges.” She closed one eye as she scraped the key slowly around inside the hole. And then she pushed it a little farther. The tip of the key struck something. “There,” she whispered. A few bumps. She moved the tip of the key around the bumps and positioned it between them. Suddenly the key slid several centimeters farther into the lock. “I think I’ve got it.” Cabot carefully turned the key, worried that it was so old it might break. When it met firm resistance, Cabot tried the other direction. This time it creaked and gave way, and the key turned 180 degrees. The lock released, and the gate shifted slightly.

Cabot’s jaw dropped. “It worked? It actually worked!” She stuck her face against the bars. “Brix, how’s it coming?”

“Trying the last one,” Brix said. He slid the key into the padlock and it stuck halfway, refusing to go farther. Annoyed, he yanked it out and inserted it the other way, then turned it hard. It broke off in the lock, leaving Brix holding the other half. His body sagged and his face fell. “Ugh,” he said, slamming the chained padlock against the gate, making a clanging noise. “Now I’ve really messed it up.”

“No worries, Brixy,” Cabot said. “Just sit tight for a minute.” She ran back to the car and got the canister of air, then called out softly to Viviana. “Do you happen to have a hammer?”

“No. But I have a tire iron in the trunk. Will that work?”

“It’ll do.”

Viviana used her fob to pop open the trunk. “It’s by the spare tire.”

Cabot leaned inside the trunk, moved some beach towels and blankets aside, and pulled the tire-changing tool bag toward her. She opened it and selected the tire iron, then closed the trunk and returned to the gate. “Here you go.” Through the iron bars, she first handed Brix the can of air, with a narrow red straw attached and sticking straight out of the nozzle. Then she handed the tire iron to him.

“I don’t think a bunch of air is going to do anything,” Brix said doubtfully.

“It’s not actually air. There’s liquefied gas inside—a propellant that’ll react unexpectedly if you follow my directions.”

“If you say so,” said Brix. “Ready when you are.”

“Hold the can upside down,” Cabot instructed, straining to see the lock through the bushes and gate. “Good. Now spray the lock at the base of the shackle so it gets inside, and keep spraying until the can is empty. Don’t touch the lock or chain with your fingers, okay? It’ll be freezing. Once there’s ice on the lock and chain, put the can down and cover your face, then smash the crap out of the lock with the tire iron. Hit it as hard as you can in a downward swing—you’re trying to break the thinnest parts of the shackle. Got it?”

“This is a dream come true,” Brix said with renewed enthusiasm. Cabot always got to do the fun stuff. Now it was his turn. “Stand back.”

“I can’t believe I’m witnessing this,” Viviana said, looking around uneasily. “Just hurry, please.” She and Cabot stepped back as Brix sprayed the lock. After a few moments, the aerosol ran out.

Brix tossed the can in the grass, covered his face with one hand, and held the tire iron in the other. He wound up and smashed the tool down against the weakest part of the lock with all his might. The lock exploded into chunks that flew through the air. The chain fell apart and dropped to the ground. “Holy expletive!” Brix exclaimed as bits of the lock and chain rained down around him.

“It worked!” Cabot exclaimed. “Great job, Brix.”

Brix dove for the gate rungs and pulled with all his might, trying to free it from the grasp of the hedges. Viviana and Cabot pushed, and then they pulled while Brix pushed, and the two sides went back and forth until finally the branchy fingers let go enough for Viviana and Cabot to slip through the opening.

After they closed the gate behind them and started jogging toward the lions, Viviana texted updates to The Librarian, Troy, and the ones back home, giving them directions to the unlocked gate. Cabot unmuted her earpiece. “Everyone, it’s Cabot. We found an alternative zoo entrance. We’ve alerted the rest of the team to come. Meet you at the lions.”

A Bad Time

Inside the gate, not far from the maned wolves, Cabot, Brix, and Viviana spotted a row of zookeeper golf carts parked for the night. One of them had Troy’s bee exhibit sign attached to the back. “Let’s try that one,” Viviana said, pointing to the nearest cart and leading the way. She checked the cart’s ignition, found it empty, then whipped open the glove box and felt around. Empty too. She slammed it closed, then went to the second cart and did the same. At the third vehicle, she opened the glove compartment, and her hand landed on a key chain. “Bingo,” she said. “Hop on.”

“What’s bingo?” Brix whispered as he and Cabot jumped onto the back.

“I think it means ‘good’ in old-fashioned language,” Cabot said.

As they took off at top golf cart speed, Cabot told Viviana how to get to the lion habitat. The sky rumbled with thunder, lightning flashed, and large drops of rain began to pelt them from the side, blown by the wind.

“We’re at the lions,” Birdie whispered in their ears. “Watch out for the park rangers. We’ve dodged two so far. We’ll start searching. Let us know as soon as Paithoon gets here. He can help control the lions…if it’s not too late.”

Viviana stomped on the gas pedal, and the three reached the enclosure a few moments after Birdie’s team. They parked the cart, and the three cautiously left the vehicle and started toward the habitat. The zoo was empty now—at least this part of the zoo, far from where the chaos had happened. Brix spotted Birdie and pointed to her, and the three moved to join her.

Cabot looked up from her phone after a quick internet search of the zoo’s FAQs. “There are usually four park rangers and one zookeeper who work on-site overnight,” she informed the others. She peered through the darkness into the enclosure. Just on the other side of the fence, rain splashed below them in a moat that encircled the habitat. On the inside of the moat, the ground sloped sharply upward for several yards until it leveled off into a flat stretch of land, creating space for the lions to roam. The sloping land and the moat were barriers that kept the lions from getting near the fence where spectators stood.

The male lion was quiet at the moment, but alert on his rock. He shook his mane, sending droplets flying. Several palm trees, bushes, and boulders populated the space around him. Thunder rumbled.

“Any sign of Sasha and Seven?” Cabot asked Birdie.

“No,” Birdie told her. “We haven’t been around the whole place yet. I’m trying to communicate with the male lion, but he’s barely acknowledging me. The females don’t seem to want to chat much, either. I can’t see them from where I’m standing and can’t figure out where they are. They might be inside their private area, or on the opposite side of the enclosure—it’s pretty big. Cami, Lada, Tenner, and Superfly are searching all the way around the fence.”

“Is that a moat?” Viviana asked, pressing her face against the fence. The path lights were dim, and the moat fell away into darkness. She employed her mini flashlight. Every now and then they heard Cami, Tenner, and Lada softly calling Sasha’s and Seven’s names as they worked their way around the curves of the fence.

“It goes all the way around,” Cabot said, glad she’d gotten a good look the other day. “It’s about twenty feet across.”

“How deep is the water?” Viviana asked. “Were you able to tell?”

“No, I didn’t pay attention to that.” Cabot searched the woman’s face, which was etched with a kind of worry none of the kids had seen before.

But Viviana also exuded the urgency of a police officer in an emergency. “Let’s get searching.” Viviana and Brix started in one direction, while Cabot went with Birdie in the other. The enclosure was huge, and it was fenced in such a way that zoogoers couldn’t technically walk all the way around it without hopping over a Do Not Enter sign attached to a chain that crossed the walkway at knee level. Viviana unhooked the chain from one side and rehooked it to the other to open up the walkway for everyone.

About a quarter of the way around, Birdie and Cabot came upon the indoor-shelter employee entrance. It was protected by a series of several locked gates with fully fenced control spaces for animal and zookeeper safety in between.

Birdie called out to the female lions, in case they were inside the shelter. Hello, friends. She tried not to imagine them gnawing on Sasha’s and Seven’s bones. Neither of them responded.

The rain was falling steadily now, and lightning lit up the habitat. The male lion had moved off the rock to stretch out beneath a leafy tree, ignoring everyone and the rain. He began vocalizing again. The two lionesses were still nowhere to be seen.

Cabot called out the names of the missing kids. She glanced at Birdie. “Are you having trouble communicating with the lions? What’s going on?”

“I’ve never had great luck with cats,” Birdie said. “They don’t want to be bothered.”

Cabot nodded and quickly texted something. She waited seconds before a reply came, then looked up. “Your mom is coming soon with Paithoon. Hopefully he can help.”

Birdie nodded. She was tired and soaked through. “It’s been a tough gig. This couldn’t have gone worse.”

“Things can always get worse,” Cabot said. “There is no end to how much worse things can get.”

“Sheesh, Cabot. That’s pretty dark.”

“Maybe.” Cabot got a phone alert and checked it. “Or they can get better. Estero News says the zookeepers caught the llama. The photo of Gertrude running through the zoo with dozens of people chasing her is hilarious.”

“That’s a relief,” Birdie said, not even glancing at the photo. She didn’t feel like laughing. They kept searching for Seven and Sasha, but there was no answer to their calls. Birdie sighed in frustration. “All I wanted today was for everything to go right for once.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Cabot said. “We thrive on stress.” She checked for zoo workers, then shined her phone flashlight around the habitat. “Seven! Sasha!” she hissed, louder than ever.

“Shh!” Birdie said. “We don’t want the zookeeper or rangers to notice us.”

“I bet they’re all still busy by the entrance cleaning up the disaster you caused.”

Birdie slumped.

“Aw, don’t do that,” said Cabot. “I was just trying to joke around. I’m sorry I’m so negative and sarcastic sometimes—it’s how I cope with the bad stuff, and I know not everybody likes that. But you did great. Did you hear Fuerte might have rabies from the monkey that bit him?”

“Are you serious?” Birdie said, wild-eyed.

“Nah. But I’m kind of hoping. He got taken to the hospital for his wounds. It says so in the article.”

“Oh. Well, I guess we pulled off a disruption, then.” Birdie felt a little brighter, but she was still worried sick. Why Seven? Again? “I wish we could put Martim in the hospital. For good.”

As the words left Birdie’s mouth, the two felt a presence behind them. They whirled around, fists clenched and ready to fight.

“Kids, what’s going on?” The man wasn’t familiar-looking. He wore a zookeeper uniform and badge. “The zoo is closed. You need to leave immediately.”

“Oh!” Birdie said quickly, putting her fists down. “Hello, Mr. Zookeeper.” She’d prepared for this on the walk over and realized the others would be listening and know to hide. “Yes, I understand we need to leave—but my friend and I got separated during the stampede at the rally, and I’ve been looking all over for her ever since. I finally found her.”

“I was really scared of the llama, so I ran as far as I could and hid,” Cabot said fearfully, playing along. “Is it coming?” She peered around the man.

“All the animals are secured. Let’s get you out of here. I can drive you to the exit in my golf cart. Is someone waiting to take you home?”

“I’ll call my mom,” said Birdie. “Is it okay if we walk there?”

The zookeeper frowned. “It’s raining. And there’s lightning. It would be safer and faster for you to go in the cart. Plus that way I can be sure you exit safely.”

“But you’re a stranger,” Cabot screeched. “I’m not allowed to ride in cars with strangers! Come on, Birdie. Let’s get away from this creeper. Stay back, creepy man!”

“It’s not a car,” the zookeeper tried to explain as he took a couple of hasty steps backward. “It’s a cart, and I’m wearing a zoo uniform and badge.” But the look that crossed his face told them he realized he was actually starting to sound like a creep and wouldn’t win this.

“People are way too trusting of uniforms,” Cabot said, shaking her finger at him. “If you don’t back off, I’m going to scream.”

“I’m texting my mom about you,” Birdie said. Her phone flashed in his startled face as she took a photo of him.

“What the—” he said, exasperated, and backed away farther. “All right. Just go. Don’t linger under any trees. The zoo doesn’t need any more bad press, thank you very much.”

“Don’t follow us,” Cabot warned, “or I’m calling the police.” Her finger hovered over her phone screen as if she might press the emergency button any second.

“I won’t, I won’t. I’m going the other way. Good grief.” He threw his hands up and turned toward his golf cart, muttering, “I can’t believe this day.”

In case the zookeeper decided to check, Birdie and Cabot began walking down the road toward the exit, watching him over their shoulders.

A few minutes later, Cami sounded in their ears. “He’s gone. All clear. You two can come back. Nice cover story.” She chuckled softly.

A moment later, Viviana spoke in a measured voice. “Team, I’ve got eyes on a camo scarf on the grass near the back of the enclosure.”

The simple sentence sent everyone’s mind to a dark place. Birdie and Cabot gripped each other’s hands. Lada and Cami stopped moving and exchanged horrified glances. It had to be Sasha’s junior ranger scarf.

“On my way,” Tenner said, sprinting toward the area.

He stopped next to Viviana, and she pointed out the scarf with her flashlight, on the edge of the grass near where the land sloped down to the moat. It certainly looked like Sasha’s scarf.

Then Tenner heard a strange noise and froze. “Did you hear something?” he asked Viviana. Not waiting for an answer, he ran along the fence toward the sound as his supersight scanned the dark enclosure. A few seconds later, his voice boomed over the airwaves. “I found the lionesses!” Then he gasped. “And I found Sasha and Seven, too.”

Impossible

While the rest of the supers were in transit to the lion habitat, Cabot, Birdie, Brix, Superfly, Lada, Cami, and Viviana bolted over to where Tenner was. The wind gusted, and the rain slapped. Lada’s hands were extra stiff and cold as she rolled to a stop. She flexed them as she peered anxiously through the fence, looking for Seven and Sasha.

Tenner, who’d put his security jacket on over his wet suit for added warmth, projected his phone light through the fence and down at the moat. The outer edge of the circle of light showed the two lionesses pacing the edge of the grassy habitat above the rocky slope, and the scarf a short distance away. The brightest part of Tenner’s flashlight hit the murky water, and outlined Sasha, who was barely visible, which meant Seven must be with her.

“Are you okay?” Tenner whispered frantically. He hated that he couldn’t see Seven at all. “Can you speak?”

Both of them grunted, and one made a double splash with their hand. Tenner pressed his face against the fence, straining to see better, but he couldn’t quite make out Sasha’s features. After a moment he realized she was facing away from him.

“They’re both alive in the moat,” Tenner said, which triggered expressions of relief across the communication channel.

“We’re going to get you out of there,” Viviana said. “Hang in there with us while we figure it out.” But how on earth were they going to do it? If Viviana were still the acting commander, it would be easy—she’d contact the zookeeper to move the animals to another place and go in with life preservers and looped ropes. Or bring in a helicopter to extract them if moving the animals would take too long. But this was way more complicated—more complicated than even Viviana could grasp.

“Raise your hand if you have tape over your mouth,” said Tenner.

Sasha’s translucent hand went up, barely clearing the surface.

“If they can’t reach their mouths to peel the tape off their faces,” Cabot said, “that means they must have their upper arms tied down.”

Sasha splashed once.

“Okay, the splash pattern is interesting.” Cabot replayed the last few moments in her mind. Then she asked Sasha, “Is it one splash for yes and two splashes for no?”

One splash.

“Okay, got it,” said Cabot. “So your mouths are taped and your arms are tied to your chests. Are you two tied together as well?”

One splash.

That confirmed why they could hardly see Sasha. “Are you in immediate danger of drowning?” Tenner asked.

Two splashes.

“That’s a no,” Tenner said for the sake of those listening through earpieces but not yet present.

“What a relief,” The Librarian said under her breath as she and Troy came sprinting up to the others. Elena and Paithoon weren’t far behind. Elena and The Librarian gave Viviana a silent, wet hug.

“Could you two climb out of the moat if there weren’t lions up there?” Cabot asked.

Two splashes.

Cabot stood up. “Okay, so we need to get inside the lion habitat, fend off three lions, pull these two out of the water, and get them out of the enclosure without anyone getting eaten.” She blew out a breath as she searched the group, spotting Paithoon. He’d be a big help.

Several of them started talking at once about how they could orchestrate the rescue. In the middle of it, Vince, Pascal, Sabine, and Caliro arrived. Vince and Pascal went straight to the fence near Viviana and peered in to see Sasha.

The Librarian quieted the chatter. “Please remember there’s a zookeeper and some park rangers working this shift.”

“I’m tempted to find them,” Vince said. “How are we supposed to get these kids out of there?”

“We can’t get the park employees involved,” Viviana told her husband. “We’re all in danger of being discovered, and if the zookeeper calls the police, the new commander would love to have a reason to arrest me for breaking into the zoo, instead of going after Fuerte’s people who did this to our children. Plus, it won’t take much for the zoo employees to figure out we’re the ones who let the animals loose. We have to handle this ourselves if possible. But quickly—they could get hypothermia in there.”

Cabot agreed. “First we need to clear out this area and get some lookouts stationed around the perimeter to watch for zoo personnel. Once we have our plan in place, we’ll want Birdie and Paithoon on the opposite side of the enclosure to draw the lions over there and away from here. Paithoon can engage them, and he and Birdie can distract them.”

“Good,” The Librarian said, looking over the group to see who would make the best lookouts in this situation.

Cabot turned to Sasha’s dad. “Would you be able to project your defense shield through the fence so it lands about twenty-five feet from here, past the moat?”

Vince examined the chain-link fence and pressed his hand against it to measure. He sent out a shield and held it steady for a few seconds to demonstrate, then shut it off. “Like that?”

“Yes. That’s perfect.” Cabot turned to Lada and started to point at her, but stopped. “Hmm. I’ll come back to you.” She sought out Superfly and studied him. “How much can you carry while flying?”

“I’ve worked up to almost thirty pounds. The gibbon was about fifteen. I could carry more than that if Pascal can help push me up with his wind power.”

“Please hold that thought,” Cabot said, scanning the group again and playing out various potential rescues in her mind. But every scenario was giving her problems. She turned once to study the two in the water. The water level was a good way down the steep bank. If the two couldn’t climb, how could they reach them?

Brix bounced softly and eagerly next to her.

Cabot wiped the rain out of her eyes and searched the faces, then began eliminating the ones who had little to offer on this part of the mission: Viviana, Sabine, and Cami could stand guard and watch for zoo workers. Elena could run to get the blankets and towels Cabot had seen in Viviana’s trunk. Cabot really wanted Troy inside the habitat to pull the two up the steep wall, but she couldn’t figure out how to get him in and out safely—he was too big for Lada to teleport with. So that left Tenner…

“Back to you, Lada,” Cabot said, wheeling around. “Do you feel comfortable teleporting with Tenner, or others of his size and weight?”

“Absolutely.” Lada’s training over the months since she’d rescued Seven from the palace dungeon cell had paid off. “I don’t know what you’re envisioning, though. I’m not a strong swimmer. At all.”

“It’s okay,” Cabot said. “I know. I don’t think the water is over your head, but we shouldn’t risk that.” To find out, Cabot turned to Sasha and Seven. “Are your feet solidly planted on the floor of the moat?”

Two splashes.

“Oh.” Cabot blinked. That was a no? She’d assumed they were standing in the water and it wasn’t deep enough to come over their heads. Could they have made a mistake in the splash answer? “Just to confirm, you are not standing on solid ground. Is that correct?”

One splash.

“Hoo boy,” Cabot said, running her fingers through her soaked hair, pushing the water to fall behind her instead of in her eyes. “Okay. Maybe you’re standing on a rock or a ledge or something?”

There was a pause, then one splash.

“Or something,” Cabot noted under her breath. “Got it.” Not good. Panic rose in her chest. Why couldn’t she put this together without risking so many lives? She turned back to the group. “Y’all, I don’t know if we can do this.”

All Together Now

“It’s okay,” The Librarian said to Cabot. “It’s not a race.”

“But they’ve got to be freezing in there!” Cabot said.

“Start at the beginning,” The Librarian suggested, “with the lookouts, and Paithoon and Birdie. I think you’re probably close to a solution, and we can help you get the rest of it.”

Cabot sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out. “All right. Viviana, Troy, Caliro, Sabine, and Cami, we need you as guards to watch for zoo employees, so you may as well station yourselves around the enclosure now. Right, Librarian?”

“That’s what I was thinking, too.”

Cami handed Cabot her knife. “In case you need it.” She and the other four watchguards split off from the group to talk through where their stations would be.

Cabot continued, rolling the knife handle between her fingers. “Birdie and Paithoon, why don’t you head over to the opposite side of the enclosure, and we’ll let you know when to draw the lions over there to distract them.”

Birdie and Paithoon set off together.

“Then,” said Cabot, feeling better now that a big chunk of the group was being useful, “when we’re ready to perform the operation, we’ll have Vince throw a protection shield onto the grassy area inside the enclosure and hold it. Lada will teleport with Tenner into the enclosure, staying behind the shield for protection from the lions in case they get curious and Paithoon can’t keep them occupied.”

“Sounds good so far,” Tenner said encouragingly.

“Okay.” Cabot paused to think. “Tenner jumps into the water and pushes the two up from below so they can climb onto the grass? Maybe? And Lada can teleport with them…” She faltered. “No, she can’t take both at the same time. We’ll have to untie them. And how will Tenner get out of the water?”

“Back up a little,” Tenner said gently. “I’m not sure Seven and Sasha will be in any shape to climb even a little bit.”

Cabot blew out a breath. “Right.”

Brix bounced a little higher, but stayed quiet because he needed to respect Cabot’s process—she was the only one of them who thought of absolutely everything. But he had an idea.

The group began to work out the problems in quiet tones, wanting to help and hurry things along. Their solutions were flawed, of course—Cabot had thought of them all and dismissed them already. But sometimes she had to let ordinary-brained people do their thing.

“Hey, Cab?” Brix whispered.

Cabot, annoyed, turned sharply, ready to rebuke him for interrupting. But she saw the look on his face. “Yeah?”

“They’re tied up with ropes.”

“I know,” Cabot said. “That’s part of the problem.”

“It’s part of the solution, too,” said Brix. He loved ropes. He used ropes all the time. In fact, he even carried one with him in his backpack, just in case.

Cabot stared. In her mind’s eye, she untied Sasha and Seven. Then used the rope to fish Tenner out of the moat. A grin formed. “You’re so smart, Brixy!”

Brix beamed.

Pascal leaned in. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Cabot, but if you have Tenner untie them in the water instead of on land, all three will be protected from the lions for longer.”

“And their arms will be free,” Tenner added. “Could someone pull them?”

“And,” said Brix, “if you want, I happen to have another rope with me.” He explained an idea using Superfly, pointing to the very high fence, the top portion of which slanted inward forty-five degrees. There was a string of barbed wire running along the edge.

Cabot nodded, finally seeing the whole rescue playing out successfully. She quieted the group. “Okay. I think we’ve got it. Let’s move quickly.”

She handed the knife to Tenner, who slid it in his wet suit pocket, then listened to a few more suggestions, tweaked the plan, and laid it down as she saw it.

“Can anyone poke holes in this?” She looked at The Librarian and Pascal. “And does anyone not wish to participate?”

“I believe we’re good to go,” The Librarian said. Superfly, Pascal, Tenner, and Lada all nodded.

“Elena,” Cabot said, “can you run to Viviana’s car and get the beach blankets and towels out of her trunk?”

“Of course. Back in a flash.” Elena sprinted to Viviana to get her keys.

“Troy, are all the lookouts in place?” asked Cabot via her earpiece.

“All in place,” Troy said. “The coast is clear.” The other four also reported all was clear.

“I need to borrow your jacket, Troy,” Brix said. “Coming your way now.”

“Jacket-borrowing heard,” Troy confirmed, and he explained where Brix could find him.

“Okay, let’s get rolling!” Cabot said, sounding sure of herself. “Paithoon and Birdie, do your thing. Stay in the shadows if possible. It’s important you don’t get distracted.”

Paithoon began calling to the lion and lionesses, and soon he was working his cat magic on all three. The male roared, then went silent, and the females left their spot on the bank above Seven and Sasha and went toward Paithoon’s call. Birdie slipped a few words in now and then, and with the cats much more calm than they’d been earlier, she was able to start a conversation for once.

“Okay, Mr. Commander,” Cabot said to Vince, “you’re up next. Lada and Tenner, as soon as Vince has the protective shield stationed, teleport immediately and stay behind it so the lions won’t have access to you. We’re on a time crunch, and we don’t want the shield to falter.”

“Got it,” said Lada, and Tenner nodded.

“Here goes.” Vince held his palm up against the fence and, as before, cast a spinning, silvery disk at the grassy flat surface on the opposite side of the moat. He pushed it a little farther out so Lada and Tenner would have space to land. The lions didn’t notice it. They were at the opposite end of the habitat vocalizing at Paithoon and Birdie.

“Now you two,” Cabot directed.

Lada, who’d pulled out her crutches for this move, embraced Tenner. They disappeared, then reappeared behind the shield. Tenner made sure Lada had her footing on the soft wet earth, then slid down the slope and splashed into the water.

Meanwhile, Brix returned with Troy’s jacket. At Cabot’s direction, he started climbing the fence carrying the coat and his rope. At the top of the fence, Brix laid the jacket over the barbed wire to protect him. He tied one end of his rope to the top bar of the fence and waited for further instructions.

Tenner swam over to Sasha and Seven. He surfaced, finding the rocky ledge the two had been balancing on and awkwardly trying to join them on it. “I’m going to get this tape off your faces. It’s going to hurt a little.” He grasped one end of the duct tape on Sasha’s face, peeled the corner a little to test how sticky it was, then started ripping it off.

Sasha gasped.

“Sorry. You all right?” Tenner asked.

“Yeah,” she whispered, her teeth chattering. “Thanks.”

“Ouch!” Seven exclaimed when his came off.

“Sorry,” said Tenner.

“No worries. I could kiss you.” Seven’s teeth immediately began to chatter along with Sasha’s.

“Get in line,” Tenner said with a grin. “Really glad you’re both alive—we weren’t sure what to expect. Let’s get you untied and out of here.” He explained what would happen next as he searched the rope with his hands, trying to find out how it was tied. “Once the rope is off, I’ll make a loop with one end and slip that under your arms, Sasha. I’ll throw the other end of the rope to Superfly, who’ll be flying in once we’re ready, so he can pull you out as I push you up.”

“Copy,” Sasha said faintly. “Our ankles are tied separately.”

“Ah, okay.” Tenner pulled out the knife. “Back in a minute.” He disappeared underwater to cut the rope that wrapped around their ankles. Once their feet were free, Tenner moved up to untie the longer rope that went around their middles and arms—he needed this one to stay in one piece. He struggled with the soaked fibers, but his long, narrow fingers won out in the end. Once he got the rope loose, he swiftly unwound the two.

Elena returned with the beach blankets and towels, and waited.

“They’re free,” Tenner reported. “Making the loop now.”

“Your turn, Supes,” Cabot said. Superfly found a magnetic wave and flew in over the fence, landing near Lada behind Vince’s shield. Once Sasha had the rope around her, Tenner tossed the other end to Superfly. Then he ducked under the water and pushed her up while Superfly pulled the girl, dragging her up the steep bank and onto the grass.

“Nice,” Cabot whispered. “Now Lada can bring her to safety.”

Lada had clipped the cuffs of her crutches to her arms as Sasha crawled to her. “Can you stand?”

Sasha got unsteadily to her feet, and Lada encircled the freezing girl in her arms. “You won’t feel a thing when we teleport,” Lada said, her muscles stiffening—the cold and angst of the long day was affecting her body. “Ready?”

Sasha nodded.

They disappeared, then reappeared next to Elena. Elena wrapped Sasha in a towel and reported her safe to Viviana and the rest of the team. It took everything Vince had not to go to his daughter, but he didn’t waver with his shield.

Meanwhile, Superfly and Tenner maneuvered Seven up to dry land with the rope.

From the top of the fence, Brix dropped the end of his rope, which reached the ground on the other side of the moat. Superfly tied a loop in Brix’s rope, then helped Seven put his arms and head through it, securing it around his chest. Pascal went to the fence near his dad and readied himself as Superfly and Seven waited for a magnetic wave. When it hit, the two went airborne. Pascal turned on his turbo wind power to boost them, and Brix frantically reeled in the rope to help get Seven to safety in case Superfly couldn’t support the weight even with Pascal’s help.

“Are you still okay, Vince?” asked Cabot. The wind had died down, and the rain was letting up.

“I can hold it a little longer,” he said.

Lada put her crutches away and sat in her wheelchair, then teleported back into the enclosure with the chair this time. She grunted with effort as she rolled forward over the soaked ground, then picked up the wet rope that had been tied around Seven and Sasha. She threw the looped end into the moat to Tenner and tied the other end around her waist and the chair, struggling with her stiff fingers to get it secure. Then she forced her wheels backward down a small muddy hill and put on the wheelchair brakes, using the mud to help glue her in place. “Let’s go, Tenner!” Lada said softly, hoping he could hear her, since he’d taken his earpiece out for the underwater mission. She wrapped her arms around the wheelchair armrests, planted her feet in the footrests, and leaned back in the chair to keep from tipping forward as Tenner swiftly climbed the rope. He flung himself onto the grass.

“Nice one, Lada,” Cabot said. “Are you holding up?”

“I’m good,” Lada said, imagining the hot bath and stretching time she’d get later…once everyone was safe.

Tenner slipped out of the loop, then untied Lada’s end. She glanced up, checking to make sure Superfly and Brix were at the top of the fence with Seven. She was relieved to see them all up there safely. She was straining her stamina with all of these trips carrying other people and had been worried she’d have to make one more with Seven if their plan didn’t work. Pascal turned off his turbo wind.

“Be right back,” Lada told Tenner. She’d teleported with a fifteen-pound gibbon in her chair earlier, but she didn’t trust herself to teleport with Tenner and the chair yet without risking losing one of them. She disappeared and showed up next to Elena.

“Can you give me a hand, please? I want to go without mobile aids this time.” Lada got out of the chair, but hung on to it. Elena helped her to a sitting position on the ground, and Lada teleported back into the enclosure on her bum as Superfly and Seven, with Brix’s help, made it safely down the fence to the ground. The Librarian had a beach blanket ready for Seven.

Inside the habitat, Tenner had grabbed the wet rope and picked up Sasha’s scarf. He helped Lada to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. The two disappeared, returning to the team.

“Vince, that’s it! We’re done,” Cabot said. “You can release the shield. Birdie and Paithoon, amazing work—you can relax.”

Vince cut his ability off and collapsed against the fence, exhausted, then staggered over to Sasha to give her a hug. Across the habitat, Birdie and Paithoon did a silent high five.

“We did it?” The Librarian asked from her watch post. “You’re sure that’s everyone?”

“All present and accounted for,” Cabot said, relief evident in her voice. “And Tenner even removed all evidence of anyone being in there.” The supers cheered quietly, and Cabot gave a smug smile. If they didn’t count the earlier half of the zoo adventure, this was the first time they’d ever done a mission without royally messing it up.

Now they needed to get out of there.

The Rest of the Story

Knowing she could outrun anyone, including a zookeeper in a golf cart, Elena took off ahead of the group to check for zoo workers and to get her vehicle warmed up for the freezing kids. While Viviana brought the golf cart around, Troy hoisted Sasha and Seven up in his arms and brought them to her so she could whisk them to the vehicles at the newfound exit. Tenner was right behind, wrapped in a blanket but not too affected by his short time in the cold water, and thankful he’d already been wearing a wet suit. He walked with Troy the rest of the way to the SUV.

Troy tentatively put his hand on Tenner’s wet shoulder. “You did good, son.”

“Thanks,” Tenner said with a joking grin, “but aren’t you going to carry me?”

“Do you want me to?” Troy asked, incredulous.

“Not really,” Tenner said hastily. Automatically. But he was conflicted. His face grew warm, and a pit of longing started in his stomach. He couldn’t remember his father ever carrying him, unless the man had been yanking him away from something or pulling him from the group to punish him as a little kid. He only had memories of his mom carrying him around camp in the hideout, or sitting on her lap with one of the Stones’ books. He’d roughhoused in the ocean with Louis and Jack and the other kids when they’d played water games, but Troy hadn’t participated much. Not a bad thing, since he was so strong. But his dad’s whole demeanor had changed since then. Something about these memories brought to mind the time when Louis was dying. He’d taken Tenner’s hand and held it like that was the most natural thing, something a father would do. That memory, that touch, brought tears to Tenner’s eyes now. He’d spent his early years avoiding situations where Troy could grab him or hurt him. But now, feeling his dad’s massive hand on his shoulder…he didn’t shrink away. Was thirteen and a half too old to have your dad carry you? He felt like he might never have another chance without it being weird. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “I suppose I’d ride on your back, though.”

Troy stopped walking. “Let’s go, then.” He stooped down so Tenner could hop on. Troy adjusted the boy on his back and held on to Tenner’s damp legs, and Tenner draped his arms loosely around Troy’s neck. The moisture from Tenner’s wet suit seeped through Troy’s already rain-dampened T-shirt—Brix had given Troy’s jacket to Sasha to get warm after he was done using it on the barbed wire. But Troy didn’t care how wet he got. He wouldn’t trade this moment for the world.

Finally everyone was on their way back to the mansion in a warm vehicle except for Troy, Cami, and Brix. The three took Troy’s roadster to the library so Brix could drop the ring of zoo keys through the book-return slot—hopefully they wouldn’t notice the broken one. Then they drove into the suburbs, looking for a twenty-four-hour home goods store so they could buy a padlock and chain. In the parking lot, Cami changed personas and left Brix and Troy in the car while she ran in to make the purchases.

They returned to the zoo’s original entrance so Brix could replace the shattered chain and lock. Brix put the key to the padlock in his pocket, not wanting to leave it there for someone else to be able to sneak in. He decided to hang on to it since he knew he could trust himself. Then he picked up all the broken pieces and the empty air canister to throw away somewhere far from here. Soon he was back in the roadster with Troy and Cami, heading for a mysterious dumpster Troy knew about where they could dispose of the evidence.

Once everyone was back at the mansion, warm and dry again and with all their face wax removed, they gathered in the great room to get Seven and Sasha’s side of the story. Even though it was late, E-kat and Magdalia hopped on a video call from their hotel so they could learn what had happened.

“The last thing we heard,” Birdie began, “was that Sasha had managed to open a portal in the llama fence, which Gertrude went through. Then Seven commented something about smelling someone that wasn’t the llama, which actually turned out to be a great clue for us once we thought it through. After that, all we could hear was screaming and muffled sounds before things went silent. What happened exactly?”

Sasha, wrapped in a thick blanket and snuggled up next to her dad, with Seven and Birdie on the other side of her, explained. “Seven was keeping a lookout, but it took me a few tries to get the llama opening right—Gertrude refused to go through it the first few times, and I was getting stressed out. Seven came closer to coach me. When I made it so Gertrude could step through the portal without ducking, she was eager to go out and have a romp around the zoo. But because Seven had been helping me coax her out for a few minutes, I guess we weren’t paying close enough attention to our surroundings.”

Seven chimed in. “Not that we would’ve seen my dad coming. He managed to ditch his cane, so he came in invisible and, out of nowhere, threw a punch at me. Knocked my earpiece out, I guess. I saw stars for a minute.”

“He must’ve heard you talking,” Birdie said, quietly fuming.

Troy, Magdalia, and Elena sat stone-faced and furious that Martim would take a cheap shot like that.

“Is your jaw still sore?” Brix asked, ready to heal it.

“It feels all right,” Seven replied. “I think you must’ve healed it by accident on the top of the fence.”

“We found both of your earpieces,” Cabot told the two.

“Oh good,” Sasha said. “I was busy watching Gertrude get through the portal and closing it after her, so I didn’t realize what was happening with Seven until he yelled. When I turned to see what was wrong, some big dude in a suit came out from behind the bushes and grabbed me. Another guy emerged and started knocking Seven around. I barely had time to scream before the goon slapped duct tape over my mouth. I fought him like my mom taught me, and I managed to jab him in the eyeball once, but he was huge. I was pretty scared, because I didn’t understand what had made Seven cry out before the other guard nabbed him—I didn’t realize Martim was there, too, until later when he spoke. Even with the duct tape on, I was trying to make noises so everyone listening in could figure out what was happening. After a second, Seven yelled for help, but then he started making muffled sounds, too, and the guard who had him was clearly struggling with something, so I figured he was getting the tape treatment. Then they took our cell phones. I managed to grab my earpiece and chuck it behind us so they wouldn’t take it and listen in.”

“Excellent instincts,” The Librarian said. “That was quick thinking.”

“Yeah, that was when I got duct taped,” Seven confirmed, rubbing his lips where the tape had adhered. “They rushed us into an employee-only gated area, which was totally deserted. I guess all the zoo workers were down by the rally.”

“Seven’s guard reported that the zoo was on lockdown,” Sasha explained, “so there was no way to exit to take us to the dungeon cell.”

“So Martim asked the guards where they should dump us to keep us quiet…permanently.” Seven stopped short, choking up. His own father…It was hitting him hard.

“My guard suggested throwing us in the lion habitat.” Sasha was quiet for a moment, too, then continued. “We went through another employee-only passage. One of the guards had keys to all the locks—I think they ripped them off from a zoo employee.”

Seven added, “Martim agreed about the lions. I got really scared and started struggling and crying, trying to make my mouth form words through the duct tape to plead with my dad not to do it. But I couldn’t get any words out. I felt so helpless.”

Magdalia, on the video chat, swore loudly and unapologetically. “That man is irredeemable.”

Troy pressed the palms of his hands against his temples, trying to hold back his anger. “He’s getting worse.”

“He is,” said Elena. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Troy, but I think it’s because you’re not there anymore to stop him from doing stuff like this.”

“Me?” Troy asked. He thought about it. “Maybe.”

“Elena’s right,” Magdalia said seriously. “I’d always thought Martim was keeping you from crossing a terrible line. Turns out it was you holding him back.” She paused. “We’re lucky to have you on our side, Troy. As for Martim, there’s no coming back from this. And if he tries anything else, you all have my permission to take him out. Permanently.”

Seven and the other four children of the criminal parents listened to this conversation slack-jawed. They’d never heard their parents talk on this level before. Seven’s eyes welled up. He’d written off Martim long ago. But hearing his mom say it? That she found nothing left in Martim that was salvageable? It felt devastatingly sad. But Seven felt relief, too. Magdalia understood that Martim was unhinged. It made him trust her more.

Sasha went on to explain that the guards and Martim took them into the employee-only part of the lion habitat. “That’s where they tied us together with rope, back to back, trapping our arms inside the coils. They did our ankles, too.”

“We both tried to press our arms away from our bodies so we could get the rope off later,” Seven added, “and that actually helped a little, but not enough.”

Sasha continued. “The guard unlocked a series of protective gates that led into an inner sanctuary, like a den for the lions. We were both freaking out—I’m not gonna lie. The goons shoved us through the lion door flap onto the grassy area inside the enclosure, and left us there for the lions to discover.”

“We tried like crazy to figure out how to stand up,” Seven said, “but with our backs to each other, ankles secured, and our arms tied all the way to our hands, we couldn’t get it right, and we couldn’t communicate. That’s when the lionesses started coming our way.” He looked at Sasha. “I’m so sorry—that was one of the most frustrating and terrifying moments of my life.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Sasha said, tears in her eyes. She reached over to give Seven a hug.

“I was trying to roll us back into the den,” Seven explained after a moment. “I guess I thought maybe Sasha could make a portal in the gate for us to roll through.”

“But I had already discovered I couldn’t because my hands were pressed against my thighs. I could twist them slightly because of the slack we’d created, but when I tried to use my ability, it would only create a tiny divot in the grass—there was no way I could maneuver into a position where I could create a portal big enough to get us through anything.”

“I was panicking,” Seven said. “But Sasha saw the moat and deduced that was the only place we couldn’t get eaten. Right?”

Sasha nodded. “I started making noises and trying to roll us over while Seven was trying to roll us the other way.”

“It took me a second to understand what she was doing, because I was facing away from the moat and didn’t see it—I had eyes on both lionesses coming toward us like they were hunting. Finally Sasha used some superhuman strength to flip me over so I could see it.”

“And we rolled across the yard as the lionesses started loping toward us,” Sasha said. “We flew out of control down the steep hill and took that sickening drop into the water. Thankfully we landed on our sides rather than one of us belly flopping.”

“It took a little bit to resurface with our heads above water,” Seven said, “and I think we both took in a little of that disgusting water through our noses, which felt like drowning with the tape over our mouths. But once we got upright and were able to breathe, we had to figure out how to tread water with our legs tied together.”

“Floating in the water gave us a chance to work the ropes a little,” Sasha explained. “We got them to ride up above our wrists, and kept working the rope up our arms the tiniest bit at a time until the lower half of our arms were free and we could bend our elbows.”

Brix had apparently also healed Seven’s rope burns up on the top of the fence, and Sasha’s once they’d gotten to the ground. Seven rubbed his wrists, remembering the pain. “We searched along the side of the moat for anything to hold on to. I was thinking maybe there would be a built-in ladder somewhere, but we couldn’t travel around the whole moat in search of one without getting exhausted. Plus it was really dark by then. So we used the rocky wall to help us move, pushing ourselves forward with our hands and feet. And finally I kicked that big stone that stuck out.”

“It was only big enough for each of us to have one foot fully on it,” Sasha explained, “and we really had to concentrate on balancing and leaning against the side of the moat to keep from slipping off.”

“Which we did at least fifteen times,” Seven said with a groan. He closed his eyes, remembering how exhausting it had been each time to get back onto it.

“At least,” Sasha agreed. “The colder we got, the harder it was to balance, because we were shivering so violently. But it was better than treading water endlessly.”

Viviana had been listening carefully to the story but seemed consternated by a few key details that had been left out. “Going back to the initial capture, how did Martim predict Seven would be there, and how did anyone recognize Sasha with her disguise? All they had to go on was a photo from the newspaper, unless they’d been spying on her.”

Seven lifted his head. “I wondered that, too. My guard asked Martim how he knew it was us as they dragged us to the lion enclosure. Martim explained that while he and the other guard were patrolling the zoo in a golf cart during Fuerte’s speech, he noticed a girl alone—Sasha, obviously—using a supernatural ability to let the llama escape. That was enough to tip him off that no matter who the girl was, she had to be with us.”

Sasha chimed in. “And earlier, when they first captured us, I heard Martim say to my guard, ‘See? I told you they wouldn’t have a kid out there doing the job without a backup person. I knew Seven had to be there. I just had to listen in to their conversation and feel around for him.’ ”

“He seemed really pleased with himself that he figured us out,” Seven added.

“I see,” said Viviana. “Thank you. That fills in a lot for me.” She didn’t seem happy about it. “I wonder why they wouldn’t contact the zookeeper and report what you were doing? Let them handle it?”

Several of the kids in the room turned to look at her as if the answer were obvious, but a side-eye from Elena reminded them that while the Collazos knew a lot about Fuerte’s unethical behavior, they were still new to the underground rivalry and tactics between the two groups. “Fuerte’s team wants to destroy us,” Elena said simply. “It’s personal, as you can guess by the way Martim treated his own child, not to mention the child of the police commander who backstabbed the president by endorsing his opponent—whether or not they knew Sasha was your daughter. This was payback for what we’ve done.”

“Not to mention they were probably furious about a llama on the loose, distracting Fuerte and the crowd,” The Librarian added. “It worked really well, by the way, Sasha—we’ll fill you in later.”

“It’s a good thing none of Fuerte’s goons saw us by the monkey island,” Lada said, and Supes and Tenner nodded. They’d been lucky.

Viviana leaned forward in her chair and put her face in her hands for a long moment. Then she looked up. “I don’t like our family being a part of this,” she said quietly. She glanced at Vince. “Sasha could’ve died.”

“But she didn’t,” Pascal said. “She was so smart. She got rid of the earpiece. She figured out the moat was the safe place to be. She even left her camo scarf on the lions’ grass to give us a clue that they were definitely there. She’s a natural at this!”

Sasha’s eyes widened slightly. The scarf had fallen off on its own, but she wasn’t about to mention that.

“We can talk about it,” Vince said, just as quietly.

“Mom, I’m fine,” Sasha said. “We got out safely. Brix healed my rope burns, and I’m almost warm again. It’s all good.”

“Plus the group needs us,” Pascal pleaded. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be a super, hiding the truth from everyone, then finding a whole team of weirdos like us for the first time ever.”

Cabot nodded profusely but knew enough to keep quiet.

“Okay, kids, that’s enough for now.” Vince’s eyes softened, and he gave a sly wink, offering the twins a bit of hope that their mom would come around.

Birdie tried to see things from Viviana’s side. After all, she’d been the chief upholder of the law for years, and now she was watching her child do things she couldn’t endorse for the sake of superheroes everywhere—a group Viviana had been forced to be extra harsh on. “It must be really conflicting for you to watch us do this stuff,” she mused. “More than the usual parental worries.”

“Yes, it is conflicting,” Viviana said. “Thank you, Birdie. I raised my children to respect and follow the law. But I also brought down the law unfairly on supers because I had no choice. Watching these shenanigans and knowing my children are in danger is difficult.”

“But Fuerte’s team doesn’t follow any law,” Cabot said, “so what are we supposed to do?”

“And what do you do when a bad guy is the one making the laws?” asked Brix. “And you have to bring attention to it so that somebody does something before it’s too late?”

Viviana eyed Brix in a way that was similar to when Birdie and Tenner were brought into the station months before. Then she smiled wanly. “That’s a very good question, Brix. One I shall think about for a long while, I suppose.” She stood up. “But now we should turn in. It’s been a long night. And I think we’re all glad this election will be over in a few days. My worries might be for nothing.”

“Before you disperse,” The Librarian said, “I wanted to mention to the hardworking crew who tracked, located, and rescued these two from a lion habitat that your mission tonight went beautifully.” She paused as they waited to hear more, then shrugged. “I have no notes. Thank you, and good night.”

The room erupted in cheers.

Prison Life

Saturdays in the Estero Penitentiary were like all the other days, except some of the inmates got visitors. The lucky ones would get to sit with family and friends for a while in a room full of tables and chairs and guards. Despite the presence of the guards, visits made everyone involved feel a little brighter.

But not everyone got visitors. And new inmates often had to wait weeks for the appropriate paperwork to get approved. Greta and Jack had each written several people’s names on their approved-visitor lists, which would allow those people to set an appointment to visit without having to go through too much extra work. They’d written names like Magdalia Palacio. Elena Golden. Troy Cordoba. And Cabot Stone. But those people had to want to come in order for Greta and Jack to expect to see them.

They’d put each other on their lists, too, because they were in separate halves of the penitentiary. Greta was in the women’s jail, and Jack was in the men’s, so they didn’t see each other from day to day. They even had separate cafeterias and recreation rooms, where there were TVs to watch and board games to play and exercise equipment to use during their free time. But on this Saturday, their first in the pen, their wardens had agreed to let them visit with each other.

Guards brought them into the visiting room, and Greta and Jack were allowed to give each other a hug and a kiss. Then they sat down at a table together. The guards stayed in the corners of the room and watched over all the visitors. Jack looked pale and had a cut on his lip.

“Are you holding up okay?” Greta asked.

“I’m fine,” Jack said. “Are you?”

“Not bad.”

“I can tell you’re lying,” Jack said.

“I can see you are,” said Greta, concerned.

“It’ll be under control soon.”

Greta frowned but let it go at that. “I had a few mild altercations, but let’s just say I’ve established my place as someone not to be messed with.”

“I wish that had been the case for me,” said Jack. “But I’ll get there. Don’t worry about me.”

Greta’s eyes filled. We could be here a very long time.

Jack looked at the table. They weren’t sure if they’d ever get out. But he was just trying to get through one day at a time, and the thought of life in prison was overwhelming. There was nothing more to say but to change the subject. “Have you been following the news?”

Greta seemed relieved to talk about something else, too. “Fuerte’s rally at the zoo last night was a doozy.”

“That llama prancing around, inches out of reach,” Jack said, starting to smile. “That was the best. It was having the time of its life. Do you think our favorite team was behind it?”

“No doubt. Fuerte tried to handle one of the gibbons, named Jefe, and got bitten on the cheek,” Greta informed him. “This morning’s news reported he got twelve stitches.”

“El Jefe,” Jack said. “The boss.” He wagged his finger. “Never mess with the boss. Fuerte is going to hate having a scar on his face.”

“Without me there, he probably had to go the hospital like an ordinary citizen. I’m sure he loved that. Being with ‘the little people.’ ” Greta took grim satisfaction in the president’s situation. “Ah well. Back to us…I asked the warden if she would take my tether off. She said no.”

“Similar experience,” Jack told her. “My warden said if it was Fuerte’s, he wasn’t going near it.”

They sat in glum silence for a moment, both highly regretting they’d been unable to find someone to remove the tethers before they’d taken that fateful boat ride. Greta sighed. “I’m sorry I insisted that being on the water wouldn’t set off the tether alarms. I guess I was wrong.”

“I think they were going to get us no matter what,” Jack said generously. “Technically you were right, but Fuerte doesn’t care about technicalities. There’s no use dwelling on it. This is all painful enough.”

Greta sighed. Perhaps Troy would take a prison call from her and be willing to tell her how he got his tether off. But he’d either gotten a new phone number after he left Fuerte’s team, or he’d blocked his old contacts, because she couldn’t get through when she’d tried him before. She wished she had Cabot’s photographic memory—she wasn’t able to remember Troy’s number to give it a try from the penitentiary landline, which wouldn’t be blocked. Maybe with a little work she could pull it back up from the depths of her memory, or perhaps Jack remembered it.

He shook his head slightly to answer her thought. “I had it memorized once. Maybe it’ll come back to me. But getting the tethers off doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

Greta lowered her eyes. “We have to stay positive. Did you have a chance to call Cabot?”

Jack snorted in annoyance. “One telephone for sixty-four inmates. Do you think the new guy is going to have a chance?”

“Same with me,” said Greta. “Sixty on my side fighting over it.” The silence returned between them. I hope it’s not too late.

“She’s busy,” Jack said a bit wistfully. “Trying to help Magdalia.”

“I don’t think she ignores us because she’s busy.”

Jack closed his eyes and dropped his head. “I know.”

Greta sighed. “It’s probably best to wait until the election is over to try contacting her again.”

Jack nodded. His face was pained.

It was nice for Greta to see her husband, though not nice to see him sad—it made her feel even worse. Being with him in this room was a reminder of their dire situation. She lowered her voice. “I hope Quinn’s team has figured out what Fuerte is doing. They need to report on it soon. If I’d known we were about to get captured, I would have told her more.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I’ve been regretting that. She was annoyed that we were so vague. But we were paranoid.”

“Rightly so, as it turns out. I tried to tip off Mags about it when we saw the guards at the marina, but I don’t even know if I sent the text—everything happened so fast.”

“You don’t think Cabot would’ve found…” Jack trailed off.

“Not likely she even thinks of going back there,” Greta said. “Plus that note was cryptic, too. We should have given everyone more information.”

“There’s not much we can do now,” said Jack, “except watch the results on Tuesday night. I’m sure our rec room will be filled with curious inmates.”

“Ours too,” said Greta. “On that note…” I’ve figured out the penitentiary floor plan. Logically, the men’s and women’s sides are mirror images of each other, and the two rec rooms butt up against each other with the diagonal wall separating us. I sit near the center of that wall for meals and to catch the news during free time, in case you want to do that as well and read my thoughts through it. You know what I mean?

Jack folded his hands on the table. “Good idea,” he said quietly.

“Thanks.” I’m cell A one two six. You?

Jack’s eyes barely moved as he checked to see if the guard was watching. He lifted his folded hands and pressed them against his lips, then whispered, “C three six eight.”

Greta nodded. They made small talk for a while longer, sharing information about their cellmates and the guards and the food. But Greta’s mind kept churning over their previous comments, when they’d agreed that all they could do was watch the presidential results on Tuesday. It wasn’t all they could do. “I think I’m going to go stand in line for the phone after all. Not to call Cabot…I want to try Quinn Sun. See if she’s making progress, and give her all the information—we’ve got nothing to lose now. I’m extremely worried about Hector. If this doesn’t go our way—”

“It will,” Jack said. “Magdalia has it in the bag. Her support is growing. New poll numbers have her leading. The momentum is with her.”

Greta wasn’t convinced. “None of that matters if Hector shows up.”

“Fair enough. You’re remembering it’s Saturday? People’s loved ones are home from work, waiting for calls.”

“I’m estimating a four-hour wait for the phone. On the bright side, it’ll give me a chance to memorize all the cell numbers and their locations on my side so I can picture where your cell is on yours.”

Jack chuckled. “Typical Greta.” He signaled to the guard, letting him know they were finished talking. “Be careful, my love.”

Greta nodded. “You too. I love you.” The two hugged and kissed goodbye, and they were escorted back to their sides of the penitentiary.

A Crucial Call

Greta found the line of inmates waiting for the phone and queued up behind them. She had an optimal view of the prison from her spot and studied the triangular, three-story layout. The rec area, centered on the longest of the three walls, had a high ceiling with skylights. The cafeteria was next to the rec area. Along the other two walls were all the cells, on three floors with open stairways on both ends. Greta was on the first floor of the left wing, A126. If the men’s layout was mirrored, Jack’s cell, C368, would be on the third floor, and probably on the right wing. It was nice to picture his location when she couldn’t be with him.

By the time she made it to the front of the line, it was seven p.m., and Greta had missed dinner, but the wait had shortened as several women gave up their spots to get food. The swift advancement motivated Greta to stay. She knew the chances of Quinn picking up her office phone at this hour on a weekend were extremely slim, but at least Greta could leave a message.

Finally it was her turn. She’d watched the people in front of her so she’d know how to do it. She dialed in her inmate code, waited a moment, then dialed Quinn’s office number, which she’d memorized. The phone rang four times before Quinn’s voicemail answered, inviting the caller to leave a message. But as Greta started to speak, a recording interrupted: “This is a collect call from the Estero Penitentiary. Will you accept the charges?”

There was no one there to accept them, and the call disconnected. “Are you kidding me?” Greta let out a deep sigh but kept her hand on the phone receiver. She poked her head into the commissary window next to the phone, where a guard sat selling snacks and personal items to the inmates. “Excuse me, please. How do I leave a message for someone without it being a collect call?” The people in line behind her started to complain.

“You need money in your account.”

“How do I get money in my account?” Greta asked. She had money in the bank, but no computer or phone to access it. She’d had cash in her pocket when the police had brought her here. But they’d taken that with the rest of her personal items.

“Your family sends it in for you. If you don’t have any money, your calls get charged to the person who answers, but they have to be there to say they accept the charges.”

“Oh.” Greta drew in a measured breath. “I see. That’s unfortunate.”

From behind Greta, a woman shouted, “Hey! Either make your call or get out of here. You’re holding up the line!”

Greta turned sharply, narrowing her eyes. Her fingers went for the weapons belt that was no longer there—Fuerte’s guards had taken it days ago. She stared hard at the woman, unafraid, and the woman shifted her eyes and didn’t say anything else. Then Greta slammed the phone into the receiver and strode off to her cell, fuming. Not at the woman—at herself. Because it was her fault there wasn’t a family member willing to send money to the penitentiary so she could make a phone call or buy a granola bar. Her fault that her eleven-year-old child wouldn’t call or text back or visit.

She flopped onto her bunk. Greta had told herself for three and a half years that there was a greater purpose to her decisions and actions. That if she was stuck wearing this tether, forced to stay in Estero to do Fuerte’s bidding, she’d do everything she could to sideline him and his hatred and his goals and policies, no matter the cost, to change the future for young supers in a world that had been pitted against them. To make a safe place for her child and the children of her friends so they could leave the hideout and explore Estero in safety if they chose to do so.

Ever since they’d been captured using the old Estero money, Greta and Jack had bided their time, watching for opportunities and taking them. They’d left Elena behind in the dungeon cell in a calculated move to build trust with Fuerte. They’d done everything he’d asked, and in turn, Jack had read the man’s mind daily. They’d taken what they’d learned and fed information to Emil at the newspaper and Quinn at the TV station and other reporters anonymously—information about Fuerte’s fears, secrets, and motives. They’d convinced Fuerte to change the law, allowing supers to exist in Estero. That had been a major achievement.

Greta and Jack had sought out Magdalia Palacio, who’d been in hiding from Fuerte’s goons, and had offered their friendship, vowing never to reveal her whereabouts to the man they served. They’d learned of Magdalia’s change of heart and personality after Lucy’s death and seen the strength she’d exhibited when she’d left Martim for good. They knew she missed Seven and had heard her confess that she’d made mistakes. The Stones had introduced her to the idea that someone should run against Fuerte, even though no one had done that for over a decade because he was too powerful to beat. And eventually they’d joked that if anyone could beat him, it was Magdalia. Only it hadn’t been a joke. And Magdalia had latched on to it. With a little encouragement, Magdalia had realized that she was perhaps the only candidate who could beat Fuerte in an election. And Jack and Greta had supported “her idea” to run against him.

No one had seen Magdalia coming. No one but Jack and Greta, plotting late into the nights inside their loft, could have imagined that a notorious supernatural criminal with a different outlook and a bit of dazzle and charm and honesty could beat Fuerte. But Magdalia had entered the contest swinging, and Greta and Jack had made sure the hits against Fuerte had landed. Seven had unwittingly helped by sending that video of the president using his supernatural ability to the newspaper, and the Stones had taken advantage and piled on, helping to confirm Fuerte’s status as a super.

Jack and Greta had convinced Magdalia to take a huge risk—to own her past criminal misdeeds and her supernatural status, and to use her vibrant personality to make honesty the most refreshing thing the people of Estero had ever heard. They’d coached Magdalia to speak from the heart, which had resonated with the dissatisfied people of Estero. Not even Magdalia had truly believed it was possible to beat Fuerte. Until, all of a sudden, it was.

The Stones had orchestrated all of it. They’d kept their vow to beat Fuerte at all costs. All costs. But the cost had been their child.

And now, thanks to their efforts, Greta and Jack sat in this prison. They might never leave it. What were the chances anyone would ever discover what Greta and Jack Stone had done to save Estero?

It didn’t matter. They’d lost the one thing they cherished most. And at the moment, Greta was convinced that none of it had been worth it.

The Lead-Up

Quinn Sun spent Saturday morning on the air covering the zoo fiasco, and Saturday afternoon trying to get Martim Palacio or President Fuerte to call her back. When her intern had abruptly and annoyingly walked off the job a few days prior, she’d emailed Martim, asking if she could talk to him about the new super. He didn’t respond, so she called and left a voicemail. He didn’t call her back, and Quinn hadn’t had time to follow up. Now, after a busy few days of presidential race coverage, she finally had a moment to get more serious about the lead Jack and Greta had given her. But nobody at the palace was talking. She drove over to the presidential grounds later that afternoon on her way home to see if anyone was handling press questions at this crucial time, but the guards at the gate said Fuerte and Martim were unavailable indefinitely, and they were unable to comment on the new super. Quinn requested that someone contact her as soon as possible and left feeling exasperated and exhausted. She’d be working tomorrow, too—it was nonstop during election season. It was a thrilling, motivating, exhausting time. And she loved every minute of it. Except when important people wouldn’t call her back.

Over at Troy’s mansion, the mood was tense, and not just because of Viviana’s reservations about her family participating in acts that crossed the line of being legal. The election was on Tuesday. The group rested and recovered on Saturday and had a moment of fun watching Fuerte on TV in some unfamiliar outdoor location with a big bandage on his cheek, trying to explain to reporters why he hated animals after being caught on mic saying so during the zoo disaster. That evening, the supers planned out the next two days.

Due to the success of the facial wax, they took to the streets on Sunday in disguise to distribute flyers and talk to residents about voting Magdalia Palacio for president.

They split into groups to cover more ground and had even more uniforms to choose from. Some of them posed as restaurant workers with aprons and hairnets. Another group pretended to be an orchestra performance troupe, wearing white puffy shirts, black pants, red bow ties, and berets cocked saucily on their heads. On Monday, a team of them wore national park uniforms: khaki shorts, camp shirts, and Mountie hats. And the beekeeper disguises resurfaced as well. That group had a chance to tell three entire neighborhoods about Magdalia’s welcoming policies versus Fuerte’s hateful ones. The beekeepers, on theme, also added that Magdalia supported bees and suggested that everyone make their way to the special bee exhibit at the zoo—and see famous animals Gertrude the llama and the buff-cheeked gibbons while they were there. The team figured it was only fair to promote the zoo after the chaos they’d caused.

There were no altercations with Fuerte’s goons. The president had taken a page from Magdalia’s book and actually left Estero City to campaign with “the little people,” as he thought they liked to be called, in the countryside up north. For once there were surprisingly few security guards patrolling the city, which was a welcome change.

Despite their tired feet, beekeepers Birdie, Lada, Cabot, and Sasha, with Cami presenting in her newest persona of a woman with slicked-back hair, shimmering makeup, and a leather motorcycle jacket, decided to tackle a familiar neighborhood before calling it quits. They canvassed the businesses and residential areas around the park and Cabot Industrial Services. Cabot made a stop inside the cell phone shop she’d visited months before and found the same young woman who’d helped her back then working behind the counter now. Cabot handed her a flyer and took off her beekeeper helmet. “Hi. Remember me?”

The young woman studied Cabot for a moment, looking perplexed, but then her face cleared. “Cheap phone glowy-eyed superkid,” she said. “Nice to see you!”

Cabot nodded, pleased. “My friends and I are encouraging people to vote Magdalia for president tomorrow. She’s going to help people like us, and people like you.”

“I’ll be at the polls before work tomorrow,” the young woman promised. “Magdalia for the win.”

“Thanks,” Cabot said. “Catch you next time.”

“See you around,” the clerk said.

The group moved up the street and lingered for a moment in front of Sunrise Foster Home. Cami stared with contempt through the window, then spat on the sidewalk outside the entrance and turned her back on the place. Lada peered in curiously, unafraid now, and wondered if she would see anyone she knew besides Mr. LaDuca. She caught a glimpse of some kids in her grade who hadn’t been very nice to her, looking like they were withering away under LaDuca’s giant, controlling arm.

“Wow,” Lada said. She turned her wheelchair away. “No need to ever go inside there again.”

“Don’t you want to leave a flyer for LaDuca?” Cabot asked with a smirk.

“He’s a lost cause,” Lada said. “Considering how much he despised me, I don’t think he’ll vote for the pro-super candidate.” They started up the street, heading for the wheat tunnel to access the neighborhood behind the row of buildings.

But Cabot paused in front of the wheat tunnel door, glancing to her right. “You know, I’m going to make a little stop here for a second, if you don’t mind,” she said, going to the door next to the tunnel instead. “Does anyone else want to come? I was thinking about maybe searching my parents’ place. Since they’re in prison and all. Maybe we can find something interesting.”

“Are you kidding?” Cami said. “Count me in. Those two are a mystery to me.”

“Of course we’ll go,” said Birdie, and Lada nodded.

“I’d like to go, too,” said Sasha. “If this is a break-in, don’t tell my mom.”

“It’s not a break-in,” Cabot assured her. Not technically, anyway.

Lada pulled out her crutches to help her tackle the flight of stairs, and Birdie and Sasha carried the wheelchair up. Then Lada used a tool from her crutch to pick the lock in the big glass door. Sasha frowned—it certainly seemed like a break-in. But then the door was open, and they went through the empty space that held old workout equipment and made their way to the elevator.

Cabot pressed the button to call the lift, and the door opened immediately, as if it had been waiting for them. Once they were all inside, she punched in the code that would move them upstairs. The door closed, the elevator moved, and a moment later it dinged. The door slid open.

Cabot gasped. Instead of the smart, cheerful decor to greet them, everything had been removed. Stripped bare. There was no sign of the warm home Cabot had lived in for a short time. The place was completely empty.

A Message

They moved out of the elevator into the loft. “What in the world?” Cabot muttered. “Where is all their stuff?” Had they packed it up and moved it somewhere? Or had Fuerte’s team done it once the couple had been put in prison? And why?

“We should do a quick search of the place,” Cami said, moving into the kitchen and starting to open drawers and cabinets. “Look for clues in the cupboards and closets. Did they leave anything behind?”

Cabot’s eyes darted around. The table by the elevator that had held a basket of cash for the food delivery people was gone. The pots and pans and toaster and other countertop appliances were gone. Even the trash and recycling bins were missing. “Do you think they packed it up before they got arrested?” Cabot asked. “Did they expect something was happening? That doesn’t make sense. I think Fuerte’s people came in and took it after they went to prison.”

“Hmm,” Cami said. “Maybe. But I’m skeptical of that. Jack and Greta don’t seem like the kind of people who would’ve given out their elevator code to just anyone. And the elevator didn’t look tampered with.” She thought a moment longer. “Eh. I guess it could’ve been Fuerte. Though I don’t understand why he’d think he had a right to their stuff. He doesn’t supply furniture unless you’re staying in a room in the palace. It doesn’t make sense. I mean, they could’ve come in to search the place and stolen a few choice things, but I can’t see them packing up the goods and taking everything.”

A sharp pang pierced Cabot’s chest. “So you think Jack and Greta did it?” Had her parents been planning on leaving or something? But how would they do that with tethers on their ankles? And why would they go away from Cabot…again? “Expletive, expletive, expletive,” Cabot whispered as her eyes filled. How disappointing could two people be? Unless…they’d tried to tell her by calling her. Still, they’d never texted anything like that. But of course they wouldn’t put it in writing if it was a secret.

“Wow,” Lada said, rolling into the wide-open part of the loft and turning toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. She moved closer to them. “You had a great view, Cabot. Much nicer than the one from my room at Sunrise.”

Cabot peered out of the kitchen and nodded numbly.

“The park looks really pretty from up here.” Birdie joined Lada by the windows. “Except for that little part over by the death fountain.” Absently she touched the spot on the back of her head where her stitches had been. The hair that had been shaved around it was soft, over an inch long already.

Cabot moved about the loft, looking around for hiding places, false drawer bottoms, or slips of paper stuck in medicine cabinets, while Cami and Sasha searched the corners and shelves where her parents’ desks once stood.

Birdie realized Cabot wasn’t saying much. She turned around to see if she was okay and spotted an overstuffed chair in the far corner next to a wall of empty bookshelves. “Looks like they left a chair behind.”

“Really?” Cabot moved into the space to see which one and was startled by the emptiness, so cold and forlorn. She went over to the chair and stroked the arm, remembering its softness. “I left my goodbye note for them right in there,” she said, pointing to the crease between the seat cushion and one of the arms. “They called me after they found it, but I didn’t answer. I never answered. After they found out we were all still in Estero, they called again.” She sniffled and put her hands over her face. “They called and texted up until last week,” she confessed. “Saying little things like We’d love to talk soon and We miss you, please call back. And I never responded.” She turned and sat down hard, sobbing. “I should have answered the phone!” She flopped back in the chair. The movement made a crinkly noise.

Birdie rushed over to comfort Cabot, but Cabot had paused her sobs. She looked in the crease, then shoved her hand down into it and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“What’s that?” Lada asked, rolling over to join them. “Did they leave you a note in the exact same place? It’s like they knew you’d come! This is bananas!”

At the word note, Cami and Sasha came running over. “What did you find?” Cami asked.

Cabot opened the paper.

10/26

C. We’re done. Be careful. The new one will destroy everything.

Missing you. Longing for home.

J/G

More Questions than Answers

“It’s dated the day before they were captured,” Cabot said. The words on the note stung, but they also gave her hope. “Did they know they were about to get caught? What does ‘We’re done’ mean?” She showed Birdie the paper.

Birdie took it. “Okay if I read it aloud for everyone?”

“Knock yourself out,” Cabot said. A numbness crept over her limbs.

“C. We’re done. Be careful. The new one will destroy everything. Missing you. Longing for home. J-slash-G.” She looked up. “I think they’re saying they’re done with Fuerte. Or am I just hoping?”

“That’s how I took it,” Cami said, sounding sincere and respectful—not how the kids were used to seeing her. “I can’t imagine what they were planning to do with their trackers, though. What’s the part about the ‘new one’? That seems key.”

“The new one will destroy everything,” Birdie said.

“What new one? New what?” asked Lada.

Cabot’s mind whirred despite the emotional hit. New one. Destroy everything. What was everything? Who was the new one? Longing for home…Cabot cleared the last words from her mind. She couldn’t think about the hideout right now without bawling. “Magdalia got that text about a new super from my mom on the day Fuerte’s goons got them. It must be someone really powerful if she was trying to tell multiple people.” She looked at the others. “But if this new person hasn’t done anything yet, what could they possibly do now? The election is tomorrow. It’s too late. And Magdalia is leading in the polls. Maybe my parents have finally lost their minds.”

Cami lifted her phone. “I’m calling The Librarian,” she said, then turned slightly. “Hi. Cabot found a note from her parents in their loft. It says, The new one will destroy everything. Does that mean anything to you or Sabine?” Cami listened for a moment as The Librarian and Sabine talked through it on the other end. After a moment, she said, “Okay, thanks. That’s what we thought, too. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” She ended the call and pocketed the phone. “Sabine said her dad was searching for more recruits before she left, but didn’t have anyone in mind. They think it means exactly what you said, Cabot. And maybe the new recruit couldn’t get it together in time to destroy the race. Here’s hoping we dodged a bullet.”

Birdie gave Cabot the paper and tried to catch her eye, but Cabot ducked and pivoted—she was busy trying not to emote. She folded the paper and slipped it into her beekeeper uniform pocket, unable to stop thinking about the last line: Missing you. Longing for home.

Cabot longed for home, too. The cabin on the beach with her mom and dad. She wanted to show them how she’d learned to process bamboo to make fabric—the growing bamboo crop would be huge by now. And she wanted to collect the salt they’d mined from ocean water…unless the rains had come through and washed it away. She wanted to show her parents the tree fort she’d built, where she could see everything and everyone without them seeing her. And talk idly on the beach about medical procedures. She wanted to have a hug anytime she needed one. Oh, how she missed them, too. More than she thought possible. She wanted to go home with her parents and have everything be okay again.

But with them in prison, that dream was dead.

The Big Day

Election Day began with dark clouds rolling overhead. The autumn thunderstorms in Estero were harsher than what the forgotten five had experienced in the hideout, and the weather was getting cold, though Lada said it rarely snowed. Early-morning hail pelted the roof and bounced off the flattened yellow grass. The mansion security team took shelter in the garage, and the SUVs suffered from some tiny dents in their roofs before the storm moved on. The supers were mostly housebound for the day, with nothing to do but wait for the election results that evening.

“Nearly three-quarters of the people we spoke to this weekend favored Magdalia,” The Librarian said from the dining room table. She’d debriefed each team that had gone door-to-door and had written down their stats. “Seventy-three percent. That’s incredible.”

“We have to win this,” Seven said. “I can’t see a way to victory for Fuerte. People are tired of him. They think he’s corrupt. And they seem to want to support supers as equals—just not the one super who lied to them for twenty years.”

“It was really nice to hear people talking kindly about supernatural people when they didn’t know we were supers,” Birdie said. “I felt it.”

“You know, Birdie,” said Cami, “I felt it, too. It was nice for once.” She held out her fist.

Birdie blinked in surprise. Then she bumped it. “It sure was.”

Lada nodded. “It was so different talking to voters this weekend, compared to conversations I overheard when I lived at Sunrise. It seems like people have spent time really thinking about supers lately, and the fact that we have a lot of good to offer. They’d believed the stereotype that supers were naturally bad for so long that they’d never actually questioned it or thought it through until now. And they decided we aren’t so bad after all.”

“Magdalia made an impact,” Troy said. “And we all helped. Great work, everyone.”

“I wonder what gave her the idea to run against my dad,” Sabine said. “What a move.”

Seven looked up. “She told me winning would be the only way for her to get Fuerte’s grunts to stop tracking her and let her get back to our hideout.” He thought about it for a moment. “But I have no idea how she knew she actually had a chance against him.”

The hope grew throughout the day. Everyone kept refreshing the news to see if there was anything horrible happening at the hands of the mysterious new super, but the news was filled with stories about long lines at the voting booths and people glad to be casting a ballot for a change in power.

E-kat, Cami, Superfly, and Caliro, the supers from other countries, weren’t allowed to vote in Estero’s election, but Sabine, Elena, Troy, The Librarian, Viviana and Vince, and Magdalia went to the polls to cast their ballots. When darkness fell, the skies cleared and the stars twinkled. Magdalia came to the mansion to see everyone, all dressed up in her most sparkly ball gown for her election party at a local hotel that night. She’d asked Seven and Paithoon to accompany her, and E-kat would be there, too, as her bodyguard. The party was a chance for Magdalia to thank her team, her top volunteers, and her strongest supporters, and to await the results together. Paithoon wore a shiny black suit that made his panther fur stand out, and Seven decided to dress comfortably since no one could see him anyway. E-kat wore black pants and a jacket that would be comfortable to run and fight in. Lada gave her an orange daisy to wear on her jacket lapel. Birdie pulled Seven into the hallway and gave him a sweet little kiss on the cheek before sending him off for the night.

The rest of the supers stayed at the mansion to avoid shenanigans. Fuerte’s team would probably expect them to be at Magdalia’s party, and they never wanted to be where Fuerte expected them to be. Besides, they could watch everything live on the new big-screen TV that Troy had picked up that afternoon from Marie at the warehouse.

Troy also picked up a few pizzas for dinner, and everyone chowed down while he set up the TV. He turned on the Estero News channel and let it run on soft volume as the vote predictions began to come in for different parts of Estero. They were tabulated live in the corner of the screen, so the numbers were ever changing. Sometimes Fuerte was ahead, but more often Magdalia was ahead. It would go on like that for a while until the news station was sure all the votes were in, and they were ready to declare the winner.

“Hey, Brix, there’s your reporter pal Quinn Sun,” Cabot said as the woman appeared behind a news desk. “Sabine really played a big part in Magdalia’s success, don’t you think?”

“I’m just glad she made it through that interview,” Brix said. “I was worried for a minute.” He looked around. “Isn’t she back from voting yet?”

“I haven’t seen her,” said Cabot.

Quinn Sun announced that she would have the winner of the election appear on her show later that night once the election had been called.

“That had better be Magdalia.” Cami plopped down on the big sofa next to Birdie.

“You said it.” Birdie offered her some chocolate-covered almonds, and they munched as they watched. “We worked hard to make it happen. Almost everyone they’re interviewing on the way out of the polls said they voted for Magdalia.”

“Always a good sign,” said Cami.

Tenner popped popcorn, Pascal made hot chocolate, and The Librarian produced a tray of brownies and cookies to pass around. The gang trickled in and piled onto the furniture and the extra chairs Birdie and Elena had set up. Others lounged on the floor, leaning against friends or the front of the sofa.

Sabine was the last to arrive. “The polls have closed!” she said, taking off her scarf and dark glasses. “Somebody recognized me and started badgering me to vote for my father. The poll workers had to call security.”

“Why didn’t you blast them?” asked Brix as he selected a brownie from the tray.

“Just trying to keep things civil. And I didn’t want to stop people from voting, especially if they’re voting for Magdalia.” She threw her stuff on the table, grabbed some pizza, and weaved through the crowd. “Did you save a brownie for me, Brix?”

“You bet I did,” Brix said. He grinned, showing chocolate teeth, then pulled the treat out from under the sofa and picked a few fuzzies off it before presenting it to her. He made room on the floor, and Sabine settled in with a cooling mug of hot chocolate, too.

Quinn Sun reappeared on the TV. “Votes are being tallied as we speak, and we should know results within the hour. Both presidential hopefuls are preparing their victory parties. Whose will be filled with cheers? Here’s Estero News’s own Barclay Mack on site at the Diamond Hotel ballroom, where Magdalia Palacio’s team has gathered. What’s the mood over there, Barclay?”

“It’s celebratory and lighthearted here under the crystal chandeliers, Quinn. I spoke with Ms. Palacio a few minutes ago. She’s not calling it a victory party—instead she refers to it as her appreciation party for the staff and supporters who worked tirelessly during the campaign. She also mentioned the hundreds of volunteers who canvassed Estero, raising awareness of her bid for the highest office in the land, and said that although not everyone could be present for tonight’s celebration, those at home were in her heart.”

“That’s us!” Cabot said excitedly. “She’s talking about us!” She beamed, happy to be appreciated.

“I see E-kat!” Lada exclaimed, pointing to an area behind Barclay Mack. She snapped a photo and texted it to her mother, adding several hearts and smiley faces and an arrow pointing to the orange daisy.

“I wonder if Seven is having a good time,” Birdie said. “I hope there’s good food there.”

“He’s probably bored,” Tenner said. “I would be. Good thing Paithoon is there to keep him company.”

“I’ll bet he’s tired of people bumping into him,” Lada said. “Imagine trying to sit at a table full of strangers who either don’t realize you’re there until your food starts disappearing from your plate, or they actually try to sit in your chair on your lap. Poor guy.”

“His chair would be nearly invisible, so maybe they’d be wary of it,” Birdie said. “He’s just glad to be there for his mom.”

Quinn Sun’s screen flipped to Fuerte’s party, and she tried to connect with a different reporter there.

“There’s Fuerte on the stage with a bandage on his face,” Cabot said, leaning forward and peering at the screen, looking for a new super.

“I see Laser Eyes and Matterson,” Tenner said. “And a bunch of guards I’ve seen before.”

“That’s the one who grabbed me,” Sasha said, pointing him out.

Her parents and Pascal leaned in to get a good look. “We’ll remember that face,” Vince said.

“Ooh, and the one who got Seven is right there,” Sasha said, going up to the screen to point him out.

The reporter greeted Quinn, apologizing for the background noise. “Things are in full swing here at President Fuerte’s party. It’s being held only a block away from the TV station. The president arrived to much fanfare a few minutes ago. Let’s have a look.”

The camera panned the cheering crowd that had lined up to shake Fuerte’s hand or snap a photo. Tenner, eagle-eyed, scanned the big screen. “I can’t tell if any of the strangers are actually supers we don’t know. There’s a ton of people there.”

“No one stands out,” Cabot said, disappointed. “Maybe it’s all just a big bunch of nothing.”

“Either that or the super doesn’t have any noticeable traits,” said Birdie. “Like Tenner.”

“I have extra-large pupils!” Tenner insisted. The two began playfully shoving each other.

The camera turned back to the reporter. “Quinn, I’ve got exciting news—I’ve received word from the president’s team saying he’d love to come to the studio shortly, win or lose. He wants to be there for the big reveal. Are you up for that?”

Quinn reappeared on-screen. “We’d be delighted to have him on the show! It’s always nice to have the president on air—something we haven’t had in a number of years. And I happen to have a few questions for him that I’ve been trying to get answered all week.” She turned to the camera. “So with that to look forward to, we’ll be back after these messages.” The network went to commercials. Cami hit the mute button on the remote.

“That’s not fair,” Cabot said. “He shouldn’t be there when Magdalia is announced. He’ll ruin it. I wonder if she knows about this.”

“I just texted her,” Sabine said. Her eyes were narrowed, and she caught a glance from The Librarian. The two seemed ill at ease by this move. “Why would anyone want to be on live TV when they lose?”

“Is he so arrogant that he can’t imagine not winning?” The Librarian asked. She tapped her chin. “Quite possibly. This is an interesting development. I don’t understand the angle here.”

“Do we need to be worried?” asked Pascal. “We haven’t heard anything about a new super.”

“I’m not sure what to be worried about,” said The Librarian. “Viviana, do you have any suspicions or concerns with this development?”

“He hasn’t had an opponent in several elections, so we have nothing to compare this to.” Viviana thought for a moment. “My guess is it’s the arrogance. He’s so sure he’ll win, but he’s going to get humiliated on live television if he loses.”

“Do you think he would do something rash to compromise the election?” The Librarian asked her, growing alarmed. Quinn Sun returned to their TV, but Cami kept it muted.

Viviana studied The Librarian. “If you’re asking if I’m worried about the ballots being compromised, or some other underhanded activity within the voting booths or the electronic transfer of the tally to the TV station, I’m quite certain nothing like that was going on while I was commander.”

“So someone could have done something to poison the votes in the past week or two?” asked Cabot. “How would that work? Like, computer hackers or something?”

“I have no idea,” said Viviana. “Fuerte plays dirty. He always has. But this would be a new tactic for him. That said, we’re all speculating. I think we’re jumping to conclusions. Maybe he knows he’s going to lose, and he’s ready to say goodbye to the job in a memorable way. Or perhaps he wants to get out ahead of the comments.”

The fear of the unknown brought a hush to the room. No one knew what to do to find out if Fuerte had done anything to mess with the election, yet they all were beginning to fear that he had.

Estero News took another commercial break, and when it came back on, words flashed on the screen: BREAKING NEWS!

Quinn Sun looked at the camera. “Thanks for sticking with us. As promised, we’re joined now in the studio by President Daniel Fuerte and his top adviser, Hector Roderigo. Thank you both for coming to the studio. It’s quite a surprise to have you. Congratulations on a hard-fought campaign. Is Hector your new—” Quinn put her finger to her ear, like someone was talking to her through an earpiece. “Okay. I’m being told we are ready to call the winner of the presidential election!”

“Who is that guy?” Tenner hissed. “Where’s Martim? I thought he was the top adviser.”

Cabot’s chest filled with dread. “I bet the new guy is the super—the one we’re supposed to watch out for.” She texted Magdalia, E-kat, Seven, and Paithoon to make sure they were paying attention.

The vote tally over Quinn’s shoulder began to change rapidly as the totals from Estero City came in. “President Fuerte, what’s the feeling you’re having now, with the big reveal imminent?”

“It’s always nerve-racking,” the president said. “But that’s all part of the fun. Isn’t it, Hector?”

The camera panned to Hector: a small, nondescript man with tan skin, brown hair, and a mustache. In the corner of the screen, the numbers whirred, then stopped tabulating. They showed the vote tally for each candidate. Hector, who’d been facing Quinn, slowly turned to the camera and stared straight into it, like he was looking into the eyes of everyone watching.

“No doubt, Mr. President,” Hector said. “All part of the fun.”

Cabot gasped. The man’s eyes glowed green.

The Results

“It can be a bit stressful, though,” Hector went on, in a soothing voice. His green-eyed glow remained bright and steady. “But if you look at the final tally right there on your screen, you’ll discover that you don’t have to feel stress anymore. As you can see, President Fuerte has won the election by many thousands of votes. Estero, you can rest easy. All is well. Congratulations, Mr. President. You’ve done it again. Let’s all take to the streets in celebration.”

The group in the mansion stared at the man on TV. From the first moment they’d laid eyes on him, their shoulders had sagged and their faces had relaxed. Some of them leaned back peacefully, letting their worries float away. Brix’s head lolled on the sofa cushion. The Librarian slumped forward. Cami stared at the man, mouth half-open. Elena smiled dopily. Lada was mesmerized. Viviana and Vince and Sasha and Pascal stared, their faces softening into pleasant expressions. Tenner and Birdie and Cami and Troy leaned forward, engrossed in the green glow, wavering from side to side. Everyone was quiet and accepting.

Everyone, that is, except for one.

Cabot, unaffected by the man’s green glow, realized exactly what was happening. “Hey, y’all,” she said, starting to panic as she saw the familiar look of people under the influence of the same power she wielded. “No, stop looking at him. Look at the numbers in the corner. Magdalia won! It’s plain as day! She won by a lot!” She whipped out her phone and took a photo of the tally. “Quinn’s about to say the real tally. Look at the numbers and listen to her, not that Hector guy!”

But no one was paying attention to Cabot.

On-screen, Quinn’s face had softened, too, and her eyes looked dreamy. She talked slower than usual, almost too relaxed to get the words out. “Congratulations, Mr. President,” she said. “As our viewers can see, you’ve won this heated election by a landslide. Are you excited to start your new term?” She lurched to one side. Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head.

“Excited and ready to go,” President Fuerte said. He was very carefully not looking at Hector. “Thank you all so much for your votes. And now Hector and I have to go back to our party to celebrate.”

“We all look forward to more years with you as our leader,” said Quinn as the two guests hastily rushed off set. Barely able to keep her head steady, Quinn propped her chin up with her hand and mumbled, “And so we take to the streets. More after these messages.” But the people in the control booth were mesmerized, too, and didn’t roll the commercials.

“Everyone, please listen,” Cabot cried, turning off the TV. “Magdalia won. Their secret super has my same ability—don’t listen to him!” But it was no use.

At the Diamond Hotel ballroom, Magdalia’s party came to an abrupt halt as everyone watched and fell under the spell of the man with green glowing eyes. And at Fuerte’s party, the same thing happened. Even Amanthi and the monks, who’d gathered in the dining hall of the monastery with a portable TV, were affected by the super’s ability. In every household in the country of Estero, families watching the exciting results succumbed to the glowing power of the man on TV, accepting the results they were told and ignoring the numbers on the tabulation board that showed Magdalia Palacio as the clear winner.

Back at the mansion, the guards had watched everything on their cell phones and were opening the gate to go out to the street to celebrate as they were told to do.

Inside, Cabot was frantic and overwhelmed. “Holy coconuts! I’m begging you to listen! Fuerte is tricking you! This is the super my parents warned us about! Everyone! Everyone? What are you doing? No, don’t go outside!”

The supers were slowly rising to their feet, following the instructions of a stranger named Hector, heading to the street to celebrate.

Cabot tried desperately to concentrate and produce her own green glow to convince her friends of the truth and show them they’d been tricked. But with all of them heading outside, the stress overtook her and she failed. It was the worst nightmare she could imagine coming alive, and she was the only one who knew.

“Stop, everyone!” she shouted at their backs, to no avail. They were filing out into the cold night, following the security guards through the open gate. “Stop!” Cabot cried again, grabbing Elena’s arm. “Don’t go!”

“We have to go,” Elena said pleasantly. “Isn’t this exciting?”

“No, it’s not!” Cabot exclaimed as tears sprang to her eyes. How was she supposed to get them to understand? She began to realize that if these supers were mesmerized, everyone in the entire country of Estero who’d been watching would be under Hector’s influence, too. This was horrible!

As Cabot stood in the doorway, helplessly watching the supers stagger down the driveway toward the street, the phone in her pocket buzzed.

She pulled it out and read the caller ID with a gasp: Estero Penitentiary.

Hands shaking, Cabot stared at the screen, her mind calculating every possible scenario, her emotions at war. Was it them? Or a wrong number? Or could it be a warden with disastrous news? Could Cabot handle anything more in this moment, with everyone fleeing the mansion under the influence of an evil super with a persuasion ability that seemed to be even more powerful than Cabot’s? One who’d just stolen all of the supers’ hopes and dreams along with the votes?

Cringing, she swiped to answer and breathlessly put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

A recording barked back at her. “This is a collect call from the Estero Penitentiary. Do you accept the charges?”

Acknowledgments

I’m so grateful to my entire Putnam team—you are the absolute best at what you do. This series would be nothing without you.

To Michael Bourret, my agent and friend, you’re a superstar and I adore you.

My family has been so supportive—Matt, Kilian and Rayla, Kennedy and Sam, thank you for always being there for me.

Booksellers, librarians, teachers, parents: thank you for caring about reading so that the children you raise will care about it too.

Kids, there’s one more book after this. I hope you enjoy!

© Ryan Nicholson

LISA McMANN is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of dozens of books, including The Forgotten Five series, The Unwanteds series, the Wake trilogy, and Clarice the Brave. She is married to fellow writer Matt McMann, and they have two adult children—their son is artist Kilian McMann, and their daughter is actor Kennedy McMann. Lisa spends most of her time in Arizona, California, and Vancouver, British Columbia, and loves to cook, read, and watch reality TV.

You can visit Lisa at
LisaMcMann.com

Follow her online
@Lisa_McMann

Don’t miss this unforgettable animal adventure!

“A wondrous journey of self-discovery…Normalizes feelings of sadness and grief for younger readers, relayed in an assured tone and elegant prose.”

—Publishers Weekly

“An absorbing adventure from an unexpected perspective.”

—Booklist

“Very well drawn…A fine, unusual story.”

—Kirkus Reviews

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