“Ah, Frank,” Tyrden says, hauling him into the room by his limp arm, dragging him across the carpet behind him as if he were carry-on luggage. “So glad you could join us. I was just about to tell Emma a story.” He dumps Frank along the basement wall, then pats him down, which produces a small handgun. Tyrden tucks it behind him and smiles at me. His eyes are wild.

“Is … Is he dead?” I ask. I’m holding myself tightly together with my arms, but I can’t stop shaking.

Tyrden shrugs. “Not from what I gave him. But the fall down those steep stairs?” He shakes his head, making a tsk-tsking sound. “Lots of broken bones if you ask me.” Then he kicks Frank in the stomach—hard. “But at least he’s unconscious enough not to feel it, right?”

All at once, the room becomes smaller. The locked windows, the drawn shades, the unconscious guard strewn against the wall like a bag of trash. It all closes in on me, suffocating my hope.

The detached look in Tyrden’s eyes as he raises his gun at me. I am not safe. “Let me tell you about how I came to know Jagen.”

36

OBVIOUSLY MR. Kennedy isn’t concerned that his prisoners will escape; it’s been hours since Galen woke up, and there has been no sign of their captor. Still, Galen and Reed sit at the ready, waiting to spring their trap, growing stiff and sore with the tension of anticipation.

“If the Archives accepted Emma as a Half-Breed, why wouldn’t they accept Neptune?” Reed drawls, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand. He and Galen have been sitting long enough to scratch the surface of a few topics. And for Reed, it keeps going back to the subject of Half-Breeds. “I mean, what’s the big deal now?”

“Why are you so interested in what the ocean dwellers think? You’re here, aren’t you? You exist, don’t you? It seems to me that what they think about Neptune never really mattered in the first place. What’s the point in worrying about it?”

Reed’s jaw hardens. “Maybe it does matter. Maybe some of us would like the freedom to explore the oceans, too. Without, you know, getting speared in the shorts and whatnot.”

Galen grins despite himself. “I didn’t say they wouldn’t accept Neptune.” I didn’t say they would, either.

“But you don’t think the Archives will go for it.”

“It’s a big decision.”

“The Archives have too much power if you ask me.”

“Saying things like that won’t help your cause, idiot.”

“What, are you going to tell on me?”

Galen rolls his eyes. “Of course not. I’m helping you out, remember? You won’t be able to run your mouth with a broken jaw.”

“You’re never going to get over it, are you? It was just a test kiss. I’ll never do it again. I’m not a stalker, you know. But there was this one second where I thought she might—”

“I swear by Triton’s trident if you don’t stop talking about it—”

“Did Triton really have a trident?”

“I’m done talking.”

Reed grimaces. “Sorry.” But after a few more minutes, Reed opens his mouth again. “Can I ask you a question? Why are you wearing a diaper?”

“I had to tie my jeans around my … Just shut up.”

But Reed has no filter. “You know, my dad’s a great negotiator. All he needs is a chance to talk to the Archives. Do you think Grom would—did you hear that? Someone’s coming.”

Both Galen and Reed make a show of relaxing, though every muscle in Galen’s body threatens to riot. They have to be smarter than Mr. Kennedy this time around. And so far, they haven’t shown any promise in that regard.

Heavy boots resound on the wooden steps outside, and there’s the squeaky rustling sound of metal on metal. A latch, maybe? Mr. Kennedy strides in, all confidence, standing taller than before, his hair in perfect order, his glasses gone. “Hello, boys,” he says in a deeper voice than Galen remembered.

There’s something familiar about Kennedy when he’s not wearing glasses.

With a loud clunk, Mr. Kennedy sets a large metal lock on the table. They’d been locked in from the outside. Good to know—if this plan doesn’t work.

Which it probably won’t, Galen thinks to himself.

But his job is to be all confident and stubborn. It’s Reed’s job to be scared and nervous and pliable. Mr. Kennedy smiles at Galen, then at Reed across the room. “You two been plotting on how to escape, I hope? Oh,” Kennedy says, slapping his knee as he sits on the table. “I do hope it’s interesting. It’ll be at least a day before my backup arrives. Ooops? Did I give you a tidbit of information for you to steal away and compute and think about when you should be resting or planning an escape?” Then he throws his head back and laughs. “I’ve never considered myself the bad guy before. Bad guys are always much cooler than me, after all. I’m just a lonely, awkward botanist, right?”

Galen thinks Mr. Kennedy might have lost his mind. And he’s weary of dealing with lunatics.

“But at least, I’ll be a rich botanist,” Mr. Kennedy continues. “Oh, Galen, look at your fists. You’ll just have to relax. Or I can give you something to relax, hmmm?” He pulls a dart out of his lab coat pocket. “Remember your little friend here? Probably the best sleep you’ve ever experienced, eh?”

The sound of rustling chains draws Kennedy’s attention from Galen. “And Reed, are you actually shaking? I tried to warn you of the dangers of being in the woods, didn’t I though? But you had none of it. So gallant you are, willing to brave the dangers of predators just to impress little Emma. That backfired, huh? At first, I didn’t want it to be you, Reed. Because you were so helpful to me all those other times. But at the café, something about you changed. You got cocky. Rude. And you idiotically divulged where you two would be alone that afternoon. I can’t afford to miss such gift-wrapped opportunities. Of course, you understand, right?”