Silas “The Shade” looked like he’d just been woken up for the end of the world, and he wasn't happy. He gazed at them with sad grey eyes from the messy back room of his shop, The Mourning Veil. It sold everything from funeral stuff to old theater props. A ghost raven named Phil sat on a stuffed bear, fixing his feathers.“Silas, listen,” Ferris begged. “This is going to be huge! ‘The Star-Crossed Lovers, Cursed by the Gods!’ It’s got space crime, magic, and sad looks!”“You don’t give sad looks,” Lyria said. “You freak out.”“I can give sad looks if the light is right! Silas, think about it! Songs will be written! We give you the story first. You sell it to the gossips. We get a cut. You get a new, tragic romance line for your stuff.” Ferris pointed to some depressing black cloaks.Silas rubbed his face. “Ferris. My friend. You give me headaches. You two are wanted all over the Spirelands. Selling your sad story isn’t smart. It’s like a sign that says, ‘ARREST US.’”“But we’ll be in d

The Rusty Quill was anything but fancy. It was a crooked, salty shack on some old docks. It stank of fish, cheap booze, and bad choices. The “quiet table” was in the back, hidden by a net full of clams that looked a little suspect. A woman sat there, drinking something that smelled like mint tea. She looked pretty and totally out of place.Maevis the Misplaced wore a cardigan that looked like it had been burned a little, and a blouse that had never been anywhere near the Spirelands. Her big glasses reflected the flickering candle. She had a pile of papers held down by a smooth rock, and she was writing with a clicky metal pen.She looked up as they walked over. Oh, hey. The inter-dimensional thingy. And the rule-breaking. She pointed to the empty seats. Sit. You're late. And you brought the sound thing. Let me see.Ferris sat down, putting the bent brass piece on the table. Lyria stayed standing, like a quiet guard, looking around at the few people in the place mostly drunk fishermen

Lyria looked at the new hole, then at Ferris. They didn't talk. They just knew what to do from being on the battlefield and from trying to stay alive.She grabbed the whistling kettle.He picked up the horn piece.Together, they jumped headfirst through the hole into the dark.They landed in a pile on a soft, dusty floor. Behind them, Kaelan's angry face appeared in the opening. He was too big to fit through easily.Lyria didn't wait. She swung the still-whistling kettle like a club and smashed it against the edge of the hole. More stone broke, and the opening fell apart with a cloud of dust and a last, sad splash of hot water from the broken kettle.Darkness. Quiet. Faint cursing from the other side of the collapsed wall.They lay there, breathing hard in the dark. The only light was the soft, silver glow from the ropes on their wrists, which were connected to the broken kettle and the horn piece between them.Is your thing supposed to leak? Ferris whispered, feeling warm water on hi

He saw the problem right away. Someone had put crushed glow-berries in the champagne. Simple chemistry. He also saw his chance. The fountain was right under a big, fancy vent that led to the upper floors.While he pretended to adjust the valves, he took out the Social Key, pointed it at the closest noble (a guy staring sadly at the purple fountain), and pushed the button.The device buzzed. A word popped into his head: Mushrooms.Ferris leaned in. “Bad luck about the fountain, sir. It reminds me of the glow-mushroom problem back in ’87. It destroyed the vineyards up north.”The noble’s eyes lit up. “You know about the Great Blight?!” He grabbed Ferris’s arm. “My family lost our entire mushroom sculpture garden! Nobody understands!”For ten minutes, Ferris was stuck listening to a long story about mushroom art and tragedy. It was the perfect cover. While the noble cried over missing mushrooms, Ferris used a butter knife from a nearby tray to loosen the screws on the vent.Lyria's path

The Spymaster froze, caught doing exactly what he shouldn’t be.Ferris didn’t wait. He ran back up the stairs, leaving the Spymaster unprotected and embarrassed.Lyria’s escape wasn't quiet. Letting the hydra out had seemed like a smart move. But it turned out, the hydra really liked Lyria, which was a problem.The creature had decided the Adept wasn't as fun as the woman who gave it magic water. It now followed Lyria around, all five heads hissing happily.“Go away!” she whispered, hiding behind a statue. The hydra wrapped around the statue, peeking at her with each head.She had the keys to the animal rooms. She needed a way out. The windows were locked. The main door was full of guards because of the chandelier thing.Then she saw it a small door low on the wall. A cleaning chute for old straw and garbage. It led outside, probably to a pile of trash. It wasn’t fancy. It was perfect.She opened it. It smelled awful. She looked back. The hydra was watching.“Stay,” she said, trying t