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“You think my grandmother was behind the Sphere cracking?”

“You seem surprised.”

“She’s a terror. I’m not surprised; I just happen to know you’re wrong.”

She waits for me to volunteer more information.

“At any rate, it was smart of you to get out of there,” she says. She strokes one of her six gold pins. Discretion, if I remember correctly. She pours another glass but keeps her eyes on me. “What was it like under her care? And how has your toushana done since binding?”

“Answer my questions. That’s why I’m here.”

“Knowing what you want and being clear about it is a great strength, Quell. I respect that. What is it you want to know exactly?” She rears back in her seat.

“What did you do when my mother came here? Be specific.”

“I welcomed her and sent her to the guesthouse.” She glances over her shoulder at the reception. “I’m sure you understand why we like to keep regular guest access…contained. I inquired about you. But she wouldn’t tell me anything, which didn’t surprise me, of course. And one day she was just gone.” She steeples her hands.

I fold my arms. There’s more to that story. She doesn’t lie, exactly; instead she withholds important details—which is slimier, I think. I can feel my chance at truth slipping away. She plays it cool, sipping her drink. But I know that spark in her eye. I saw it in Yagrin. She’s fascinated that I’ve bound to toushana. She’s dying to ask me more questions. But she won’t volunteer more information. I could search these grounds myself, figure out what Beaulah’s not telling me. What did my mother do here? What exactly made her leave? That should give me an idea of where she went.

Beaulah isn’t the only one who can get what she wants from people.

“Fine.” I pause a beat to sell this act. “Thank you for giving her a place to stay.” I pop up from my chair, and for the first time, Beaulah appears unsettled.

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

“You’re enamored of toushana.”

She doesn’t move.

“Study me. Learn all you want about what it means to be bound to it. Consider me your science experiment.”

Her grip on her glass tightens.

“In exchange, I need”—to figure out what you’re not telling me about my mother’s time here—“a place to stay, off the radar. I don’t trust you.” I stick out a hand. “But perhaps I can come to.”

Not a moment passes before her hand is in mine. “Welcome to Hartsboro.”

We shake. But she doesn’t let go.

“Integrity says a lot about a person, Quell. Keep your word and my nephew will never know you’re here.”

Betray her and he will, she doesn’t have to say.

“This place can be a haven for you or a dungeon of shadows.”

I snatch my hand away and smooth my dress. “We have a deal, then.”

She smiles, and I hurry back to the party, trying to forget the look of triumph on her face.

Eleven

Jordan

I can’t remember the last time I got such wretched sleep. My brother’s in jail. And I put him there. The trace on Quell is silent and the Dragunhead wouldn’t be argued with, even after I brought Yagrin in. Thankfully he wasn’t too furious. I told the Dragunhead I ran into my brother while out doing my job. My stomach still sloshes at lying to him. Again.

I tuck the vial of Sun Dust he gave me into my shirt and double-check the image Maei messaged me late last night. She’s buzzed me for updates on the hour, every hour, since. The image is blurry, but the blackened orb is hard to miss, hovering over a sandy expanse of desert. The last I saw it, it was covered in webs of cracks. Now each crack has spread into a million tiny ones, and it’s a miracle the Sphere is still holding together at all. We’re running out of time.

The tip came from a member who spotted it while vacationing, but by the time Draguns got there in the morning, the Sphere was gone. So the Dragunhead sent me here instead to get answers from a Sphere expert. Two days of cloaking to get here has my magic stiff. I flex my fingers and tuck the photo away, but my heart seizes in my chest as I imagine the Sphere’s matter bleeding out. And all that would mean.