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“I knew someone when I was very young who could braid spells into hair, but it’s obviously possible more than one spell worker can do it.”

“He’s bringing out Genevieve.” Theo’s voice got lower.

Melodie watched Marchant pull a reluctant Genevieve along the gravel path. “She’s got the same dampening spell in her hair.”

Theo glanced at her. “That’s good, right? Marchant will think they’re both too weak magically to be interesting.”

Melodie nodded in agreement.

They watched Genevieve come out as quickly as Viviane had, and then the boys were marched across one by one. The fourth boy looked like he was in pain as he walked, and Marchant seemed rougher on him.

“Ric hurt him,” Theo murmured. “Even before I did. I’d forgotten about it, but one of the sticks at the camp had blood on it. I think Ric stabbed him with it. Marchant’s done something to him in retaliation.”

“He doesn’t like being hurt, and he’s almost paranoid about being overpowered or having the tables turned on him.” Melodie watched Marchant shove the boy into the workshop. “He ran in a panic when he saw the compliance net.”

“A true coward.” As Theo spoke, Marchant emerged again, and Ric, limping behind him, looked slightly gray, as if he had been further harmed in the workshop.

Melodie felt a surge of rage at the man. These were children, and he was a monster.

After he returned Ric, Marchant shuffled at an even slower pace to his house, and disappeared inside.

“Let’s go.” Theo stood. “I want to find out if the rest of the team are in there with the children.”

They ran across the grass, jumping over the path as soon as they could so that the prison and stables would block any view of them from the house. The trap Marchant had set on the path glowed faintly in the afternoon light, and Melodie could see it was overlayed over a handful of stones that had been sprinkled through the gravel.

She didn’t have time to see what it did.

They reached the prison, but the only window was near the entrance, which would expose them to the view of anyone leaving the house.

The window was closed.

“I need a rock.” Theo looked at the gravel path, but the stones were too small to break a window.

“I’ll draw one. And some twine and a pencil, so we can communicate.”

He had completely forgotten about the paint set, she realized. He blinked.

“And some rope, so we can pull the stone back up,” he said. “They might not be able to throw it back. They could be in chains.”

She shook her head. “It won’t last long enough.”

He swore. “I forgot how quickly it disappears.”

She moved to the far corner of the back wall, so Marchant wouldn’t see the glow of the paint set while she used it.

Theo stood guard as she drew the rock, the pencil, the twine. As soon as the pencil appeared, she handed it to Theo, along with a corner she’d torn from the sheet of paper.

He wrote a few words, wound the twine around the rock, the pencil and the paper, and ran around to the front.

Melodie followed him, peering around the corner to keep watch on the house.

Theo threw the rock at the window overarm, and it broke with a loud crack.

Theo ran back to her, crouching just around the corner.

“It sounded loud,” she said. She watched the door of the house, but it stayed closed.

With luck, Marchant was sleeping somewhere, or tending his wounds. Maybe he hadn’t heard the noise.