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“So did you figure out who the Techno Knight is?” I asked. “And where he got that armor?”

Silence descended.

“Hello?” I asked. “Are you still there?”

The invisible stranger sighed. “His name is Jon Park. And he’s a Watcher.”

“What?” I gasped. “Isn’t it the Watchers’ job to keep the Fortress safe? So why would one of them attack all those people?”

“Because he went rogue.”

“That’s why the General swooped in and took him away!” I realized. “So no one would find out that he had traitors in his organization. The Governor already threatened to replace him. I bet if she found out about this rogue Watcher, she totally would.”

“Governor Meyer threatened to give the General the boot, did she?” The invisible stranger chuckled. “Maybe I should let her know about the General’s misbehaving Watcher.”

“You totally should,” I told him. “If the General is fired…well, that might be the only chance I have of not getting cut from the Apprentice Program.”

“He threatened to cut you?” His voice was sharper, even angry.

“He threatened to cut anyone who didn’t earn five hundred Merit points, but yeah, he obviously made up that rule just for me. He thinks I cheated to get magic.”

“Well, the joke is on him.” I felt a hand touch my shoulder. “I’m sorry. If I’d known the General had cooked up this ridiculous scheme to make that stupid Scoreboard even worse, I would have done something to help you earlier. I should have been paying better attention to everything that’s going on. I’ve just been so busy…”

Probably still hunting down any leads on who’d sent the Cursed Ones after the Chosen.

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix this,” he promised me.

“How?”

He didn’t answer. I heard footsteps heading away from me. He was gone.

“Savannah!” Kylie rushed toward me. “Are you all right?”

Bronte was at her side. “We thought you’d been crushed under that stampede.”

“I’m fine,” I assured them.

I didn’t tell them about the invisible stranger. I was sure the Knights didn’t want anyone to know that they’d sent one of their own into the Black Obelisk to investigate things the General wished to keep hidden.

“The caterer’s shop is just down this street,” I told them. “Come on.”

Two minutes later, we were standing face-to-face with the caterer, a rather eccentric Alchemist with wild hair and a sharp tongue. His apron wasn’t white; it was brown and made of thick, tough leather. And instead of a chef’s hat, he wore a hard helmet. It’s almost like he expected the food he prepared to fight back. Or maybe the armor was to protect him from disgruntled customers. He sure had a talent for rudeness.

“Butwhydid you change the menu?” Bronte asked him for what felt like the millionth time.

“Because that beanpole of a woman doesn’t know what’s best,” he snapped.

“Ms. Featherdale, you mean?”

“Yes. Ms. Featherfart.”

Beside me, Kylie swallowed a snort.

“I know food.” He wiggled his plump finger in Bronte’s face. “I’ve been preparing meals for the six races for over forty years, young lady. I know far more about what they like to eat than some half-wit human ‘event planner’ does.”

“I’m sure you’re very experienced. That’s why we hired you.” Bronte gave him an amicable smile. “But your contract requires you to follow Ms. Featherdale’s menu.”

He shrugged. “I improved the menu.”