Gwen Marlowe really doesn’t want to be here.

She’s sitting in an ugly dress in the front row of the Middletons’ ballroom, and all she can think about is how in two minutes, everyone’s eyes are going to be on her.

Midshipman Greene’s voice drones from the stage, but Gwen feels the stares at her back already. She knows she looks horrible, blotchy face and dishwater hair made worse by floating above that green-gray puke color her mom insisted on, her feet crammed into painful open-toed shoes.

Stop. Breathe. She just has to get through this. Read out the speech she wrote without embarrassing herself too badly, and then her mom will be off her back about improving the status of the Marlowes for another few minutes.

Gwen’s mother, next to her, shoots her a look, like she knows what she’s thinking.

You want this, Gwen thinks. Not me. You’re the one who hates that you’re just an Ensign. Who wants me to marry up so that we can stand in the good graces of the Captain and the highest families.

Gwen’s pretty sure she’d rather choke in the void of space than ever have to talk to any of those people.

Founders’ Day. That’s why she’s been dragged here. Not even the event itself, but the brunch to plan the real one. A ball her family’s only grudgingly invited to and where their contribution won’t be remembered.

She tries to unclench her shoulders. If she can get through the speech with Mom watching her, she can get through the rest of the night, and if she can do that, she can endure until she’s eighteen. Then she’ll catch a ship away from New Luna and say good riddance to everything to do with the Captaincy.

Applause for the Midshipman bursts like an explosion into her thoughts. It feels like needles slamming into Gwen’s back.

Gwen’s mother rises from her seat. Gwen feels her own legs rise, like there’s an invisible force pulling her, but it’s only her forcing herself to get up. She follows her mom to the stage.

Her mom goes to the projector to work the presentation. She makes a gesture, like Well?

Gwen stumbles toward the lectern. She doesn’t even get to have a paper to read from. Everyone expects her to have it memorized.

She swallows, looks out at the crowd.

“One—one hundred and eighty-three years ago, the first Captain and her fleet fought their way through interstellar space, to the moon of the planet Miranda to found the High City of New Luna…”

It’s all gone wrong. Thirty seconds into her speech, and she can tell. The members of the Twelve Families look bored. Instead of the celebration of their shared history she was trying to write, she’s just regurgitating what they learned in primary school. Her classmates fidget and look away.

Gwen doesn’t let herself look for Trisha in the crowd. She doesn’t want to see the expression on Trish’s face.

Her voice feels foreign in her mouth, like she’s speaking underwater. It doesn’t feel real. Like a Nightmare’s devoured the room.

Like the dream she keeps having lately, something about searching for someone in a dark city, though the why and who always vanish like soap bubbles the moment she wakes up.

By the time she’s recounting the first Captains finding the Lunar Intelligence in the ruins, Gwen wants nothing more than for the High City’s defensive artillery to misfire and reduce her to a black mark on the floor.

Tepid applause follows. Gwen slinks back down to her seat.

She can feel Mom’s disapproving gaze burning a hole in her back.  The promise of a scolding lecture to follow.

Stilted. Tedious. Conventional.  That’s what everyone will say. Gwen slides down into her seat, face burning. She hasn’t distinguished herself. Just the opposite. She’s confirmed for the rest of the Twelve Families the mediocrity the Marlowes will never be able to escape. Why did she think she could do this? Why did Mom?

The applause picks up. Gwen sits up to see Adrianna Middleton take the stage with her mother. The third most important family in the High City.

The knot in her chest tightens. Adrianna looks perfect as always. Long, lustrous brown hair tied back in a ponytail, with just the tiniest splash of makeup. She’s only, what, sixteen and a half? Two months older than Gwen and she already acts like she’s been giving speeches her whole life.

Adrianna starts on her presentation, and of course it’s confident, no ums or pauses, all about how the structure of the government has changed since Founding. It’s the perfect thing to continue on from Gwen’s speech while also showing Gwen’s up as inferior in every respect.

Adrianna finishes and hands the microphone over to her mother, smiling. Applause fills the room.

Gwen’s mom leans over and speaks into her ear.

“Why can’t you be more like her?” she whispers.

Gwen’s face burns.

Adrianna’s mother probably practiced with her for hours. Gave her access to tutors, libraries, nice clothes. One look at her classmate’s perfect smile and Gwen knows she’s never struggled with anything. Some people have all the luck.

Gwen wants to get up and leave. But she can’t. The next up is Dr. Webster, the Purser, and his daughter. He talks about the budget, clicks through graphs that show grain and agricultural taxes across the moon dropping steeply in the last year. And the reason for that is, you guessed it…

Yeah. Nightmare attacks on the hinterlands, up fifteen percent.

Yeah, no shit. It was all her class last year had been able to talk about when the teachers weren’t looking.

The doctor pulls another slide. It shows an orange cloud of a thing, billowing through the streets of Antenor, sticking tendrils of burning flowers down people’s throats.

It makes her sick. The Captaincy not doing anything. Just abandoning Antenor to its fate, like so many others. Oh sure, they’ll complain about the lost taxes, but they won’t evacuate the small towns, they won’t pay for the damages, they won’t even try to protect people. The High City just squats above their cliff walls with their anti-aircraft guns and pats themselves on the back that the Nightmares never make it all the way here.

Gwen’s memorized the pictures. Faces melted like lava, or withered to bone.

Look, she’s not a child anymore, okay? She knows there’s a lot that gets decided at the Parliamentary Hull that the Captain and the high families don’t tell people.

But this? Leaving people to die? Or worse?

Moon’s sake. No wonder the Low City despises them.

Back when she’d been a kid, she’d thought maybe she could help the people who’d been attacked by the Nightmares. Volunteer to build houses, maybe, or help shore up their defenses.

But one look at her mom’s expression when she told her killed that dream before it began.

The Purser and Becca step down. The meeting’s over, mercifully, finally. The members of the Twelve Families start to get up, to mingle.

Mom gives her another meaningful look, and with a hand on Gwen’s shoulder, almost pushes her toward the crowd. She heads off in another direction.

Right. The other thing she’s supposed to suffer through today.

Networking.

Gwen stumbles forward, pushes past the crowd, over to the one of the drinks tables at the side of the room. There’s a punch bowl for Gwen and the other junior offspring.

She looks for Trisha, but Trish is trapped in conversation with Yvonne Chapman, track star, she of the long legs and blonde ponytail, who looks like she’s bragging about some achievement. There’s someone who never had any trouble distinguishing herself. Becca Webster’s sweeping across the room, moving from conversation to conversation like the queen bee she is. Moira Greene and her mother are talking to the Watchstander.

It’s all so depressing. Gwen knows she’s supposed to be connecting with her future bosses and coworkers. Maybe even finding someone to marry. Except she knows all the boys here already, and what, like Dylan who keeps picking his nose is husband material? Yeah, right.

She looks across the room. Mom’s all the way over at the front of the room, laughing too hard at one of the Navigator’s jokes.

Gwen sips her drink, trying to steel herself to mix with the crowd. She can do this. She—

A bit of ice hits her teeth. Ow, that’s cold. She sputters. Dang it, why does that always happen to her when there’s ice in the glass?

There’s movement over her shoulder. Gwen turns around. Slowly, attempting to maintain her dignity.

It’s Adrianna, reaching for the ladle.

Adrianna Middleton looks up at her and smiles. It’s a perfect smile. Somehow it’s a dazzling movie star smile and also a spontaneous lopsided human smile. Gwen hates that, because she’s never been able to smile like that, she’s tried.

It’s all Gwen can do not to run away. She knows Adrianna’s judging her. Adrianna looks beautiful and professional in a black button-down vest with white blouse and medium skirt, and Gwen feels like a wild animal with her disheveled hair and awful dress. Mom’s tried to teach her how to look nice, but somehow it’s never made the tiniest bit of difference.

“Gwen,” Adrianna says. “How are you?”

Gwen shifts awkwardly. Her heart’s going a mile a minute. “Um. I’m good.”

“We’ll be at H-Prep together in a couple months, right? Congratulations. I know you must have studied a lot.”

“Guess so,” Gwen says.

High City Preparatory Academy. The school she’s known she’s supposed to get into since she was five. It’s expected of all the Captaincy families.

Gwen doesn’t feel like she did a good job studying. It felt like she barely scraped by to get in.

On some level she’s convinced she’s going to flunk out. You can’t just scrape by with the good grades you got at your middle school. No, at H-Prep, you have to fight your way to the top, Mom always says, and if you want to get a scholarship to Laertes College like the Captain did, you have to be at the very least in the top ten, and maybe better.

 Except with everyone else trying to do the same thing, how are you supposed to survive one day, let alone three years?

“I know we haven’t talked much,” Adrianna says. Her eyes are locked on Gwen. Perfect focus. “But I wanted to say, I really liked being in the same history class as you last semester. You made some really interesting points. I never thought before about how settler-ships shaped the layout of the early city.”

“Thanks.” It’s weird that Adrianna remembered that.

“We’ll be in Classics together, right?

“Yeah.”

“That’s great. I’m sure we’ll see more of each other. Really looking forward to that.”

Gwen gets it, what Adrianna’s doing here. Flatter the wallflower as you go about the room socializing. Make connections, just in case Gwen can do her a favor down the line. She’s so good at making it not seem fake, unlike Gwen, which makes it all that much more annoying that it is.

She looks at Adrianna, and her stomach clenches.

Whatever game this girl might be playing, Gwen has to remember she’s the heir to one of the most prestigious families in the Captaincy. One of the people who’d rather abandon the lower classes to the Nightmares.

Suddenly Gwen’s whole body feels rigid. She wants to vomit.

“Listen, I have to go,” Gwen blurts out. “Promised my mom I’d…do a thing. Family stuff.”

“Sure,” Adrianna says, in a soft voice. “No worries. It was really nice seeing you again, Gwen.”

Adrianna’s brown, shiny hair bounces in its ponytail as she moves onto another part of the room. She glances back over her shoulder at Gwen, before turning around to talk with Yvonne.

Gwen bolts. She’s hoping her mom doesn’t see her leaving, but right now, she doesn’t care. She needs to be out of this room, away from these people—

She hurries down the stairs of the huge mansion, to the playground where some of the servants are watching the little kids play. Where she remembers running around as a kid herself.

For a minute she just stands there, breathing hard.

The awful weight feels like it’s gone now that she’s out in the sunlight. No parental eyes, no judgment, no conversations. Just the sound of kids playing.

She watches them a while. They’re crawling around the red colony ship or throwing gravel in each other’s faces. Like they don’t have any cares.

Gwen doesn’t know how to do this. How to live in the High City anymore. She’s been telling herself she’ll hold out until adulthood, but now she’s not sure she has the strength.

Miss Natalia, her childhood nurse, is by the corner of the building, leafing through a book. Seeing her gives some relief. Natalia was always nice to her when she was growing up.

Gwen looks around for her baby cousin, Nicolas. He was out here when they arrived. His friend Clarissa’s on top of the climbing dome.

Wait, wait. Where’s Nicolas?

Gwen’s eyes search the playground. Nowhere.

She goes up to the girl at the top of the dome and grabs her jacket. Natalia doesn’t look up.

“Clarissa,” Gwen says, in as bright and friendly a tone as she can. “Where’s Nicolas?”

“I dunno.”

“Clarissa!”

“He said not to tell.”

“If you tell me,” Gwen says, “I’ll sneak you a cookie. But if you don’t, then you’re going to be in huge trouble.”

Clarissa considers this. Finally she points, wordless.

Gwen looks over her shoulder. Her heart drops out of her chest.

Clarissa’s pointing at the Lunarian Ancestor Complex.

AKA, the big purple dome at the top of the hill.

Of course. Why had she expected anything else? Of course Nicolas went wandering off into the alien mausoleum or whatever it is. The place that’s nothing but problems for the High City.

Well, admittedly the Lunar Intelligence and her technology were a real find. But still, she’s super broken like half the time, because they don’t have all her subsystems online yet.

And every year, it seems like, there’s a news story about kids getting lost in the Ancestor Complex and not finding their way out.

“He said he was going to go find treasure,” Clarissa says, eager to be helpful. “From the aliens.”

Gwen looks at Miss Natalia. Crap. Natalia missed Nicolas leaving, didn’t she? This is bad. This is really bad.

She could go in and tell someone her cousin’s gone. Raise the alarm, so they send out a search party.

But if she does that, Miss Natalia’s screwed. Getting fired by one of the Captaincy families, that’s a black mark on her record that will never, ever go away. And Natalia was always decent to her. Gave her hugs and candy when no one else did. Made her feel like a real human being.

Gwen takes a breath.

There’s only one alternative. That she can see, anyway.

She hates this. She doesn’t exactly want to go traipsing around in a dangerous ruin.

But if she lets Nicolas get hurt, or she lets Miss Natalia take the fall, then how is she different from the people who let the small towns be massacred and mutated by Nightmares?

It’ll be better than enduring any more of this party, anyway.

Gwen runs back into the mansion, back to the changing rooms. She dumps her dress on the floor and changes back into her boring top, jeans and running shoes. She’d rather have her laced-up boots, but she left them at home.

Crap, okay. The Ancestor Complex, it’s dark, right? For the most part? And there’s, like, rubble and stuff. And sometimes wild animals that get in. She needs a flashlight. And, and, a weapon. Something she could bash a skirwolf over the head with, if it came to that.

She runs up to the second story. There’s a supply closet around the corner. She finds one of those big battery-powered flashlights sitting on a shelf. Perfect.

The flashlight’s too unwieldy to make a good club. Screw it. She pulls one of the candelabras off the wall. Nobody’s using it anyway; it’s just a stupid concession to old rich people style, and it’s got three very pointy bits at the end.

She jogs back down the hall. She’ll go down the stairwell, sneak into the ruins, and bring Nicolas back in one piece, or she’ll die trying, which won’t be fun, but at least, like, her family will feel bad about it, so that’s nice—

She almost crashes into the person coming up the other way.

It’s Adrianna Middleton. Gwen almost stabbed her in the eye with the candelabra.

“What are you doing here?” Gwen blurts out.

“I live here?” Adrianna says, getting to her feet. She says it like she’s not really sure if it should be a question.

Oh, right. Middleton House. It’s been the meeting place since like three generations ago. She probably passed Adrianna’s bedroom.

“Also, I was looking for you,” Adrianna says. “Are you okay? You had this really awful expression when you left—”  

Of course there’d be an angle. Adrianna’s gathering evidence of her dysfunction. Ammunition to use against her.

“I’m fine,” Gwen snaps. “I’m just taking a walk, that’s all—”

She tries to move, but Adrianna puts a hand out. “You don’t look like you’re fine. You look really stressed. Also, you’re carrying a lot of weird stuff.”

“It’s nothing—”

“Seriously, Gwen, it’s okay,” Adrianna says. “I’m not going to tell anyone, okay? I’m just—I saw the look on your face when you left, and—I’m honestly really worried about you? Please—tell me?”

Gwen hesitates.

Later, she won’t be able to say why exactly she did it. Whether for a moment, she thought that Adrianna could actually be trusted, or whether she just wanted to rub the girl’s face in the fact that the world wasn’t as simple as she made it seem, that people who weren’t Middletons had actual life problems.

Later, she’ll look back and think: that was the moment that changed everything.

“Nicolas is missing,” she says honestly. “My baby cousin.” She glares at Adrianna, daring her to say something, but she doesn’t. “He wandered into the Ancestral Complex. I’m going to go try to find him. Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want them to know.”

Adrianna nods, very seriously. “Okay. Let’s go get him.”

Gwen takes a moment to process this. “What? No, you’re not coming.” This is the last thing she expected.

“Gwen, you need a partner for this kind of thing. Cave-diving, ruins stuff. And I can help. I know the first three floors of the ruins. And I think I can guess the other ones. I did a project on them, remember?”

Gwen recalls it dimly. “You would pick a project about the ruins, wouldn’t you?” she says, eyes narrowing. The Middletons have always been the most obsessed with the Lunarians. Is Adrianna trying to curry favor with her parents?

“It’s kind of hard to avoid thinking about something when you live next door to it,” Adrianna says. “Look, Gwen. I promise I won’t get in the way. I just—I’m imagining you getting lost and dying in there. Please. Let me help you.”

Gwen stares her down.

“Fine,” she says. “You’d better not make me regret this.” She stuffs a heavy object into Adrianna’s hands. “You can hold the flashlight.”

“Sure.” The girl lifts it like it’s effortless.

They go back to the coat check for Adrianna’s clothes. Then they slip out the back.

The hill up to the Complex is bigger than Gwen realized. She’s puffing for breath by the time they’ve reached the top of it.

There’s a fence around the ruins, of course, but it’s not, like, a great one. Just a chain-link affair that starts showing gaps when erosion and weather push part of the fence out of alignment. Sure enough, Gwen sees a Nicolas-sized hole. It won’t work for her, though. She tosses the candelabra over, then climbs up herself. It’s awkward, but she manages it. She hopes Adrianna isn’t looking at her nonexistent ass. Adrianna tosses the flashlight over. Pretty soon, they’re both over the fence. 

The Ancestor Complex doesn’t look like a dome from here. The walls are cut into right-angle patterns like calligraphy from some alien alphabet. All in the weird purple metal the Lunarians used. It’s more intimidating than she realized it would be.

There’s a dark opening in the ruins about twenty feet from where they are. It’s probably where Nicolas got in. Gwen motions to her…temporary ally? Conspirator? They go in.

The first room’s a big one, with a high vaulted ceiling. It’s also really, really dark. Gwen sees rubble in the beams of sunlight. Mostly alien concrete. If there was any tech that still worked on the upper floors, the archaeologists would have found it already and spirited it out of here.

“Nicolas?” Gwen called out.

Adrianna joined her. “Nicolas?”

No response. Not even footsteps. Not even metal shifting against floor.

There’s hallways branching off, so they check there. Gwen’s about to charge down a stairwell when Adrianna touches her shoulder.

 “The west stair goes to the Memory Hall,” she says. “Fewer branching paths. We won’t get turned around as much.”

Gwen nods. “Okay.”

It’s a long way down to the second level.

Adrianna’s flashlight illuminates the metal beams that make up each step. Gwen’s nervous about tripping.

Finally, the light catches on an open door.

Gwen doesn’t know what she expected the Memory Hall to look like.

But it’s not this.

Four-foot slabs of purple metal standing on their ends. Row after row, all with hexagons and other glyphs on them. There must be hundreds.

“Gravestones?” she asks.

“Sort of.” Adrianna adjusts her grip on the flashlight. “The Lunarians cremated their dead. But they made markers, too. We don’t know why.”

“The Moon herself couldn’t tell us more, huh?”

“No. She doesn’t have those memories anymore.”

Nicolas isn’t here, either.

They decide to check the lower hallways one by one. Adrianna’s methodical, annoyingly so. She takes her sweet time sweeping the flashlight beam over every room, as if Nicolas could be hiding in every dark corner. Gwen doesn’t get it. Doesn’t Middleton realize that time’s of the essence here?

Gwen plunges ahead. Jumps over a bit of rubble, just outside the reach of Adrianna’s flashlight. She’ll check this room, dart back, and circumvent Middleton’s plodding pace.

“Gwen!” The voice cries out from behind her.

Gwen sees it suddenly, with the beam of light coming her way. A yawning black hole in the floor ahead of her.

Crack.

She’s been standing on a bit of linoleum or something. It snaps under her weight. She hears the sound of a metal beam straining. She twists around, trying to grab onto something, but can’t find anything—

Adrianna leaps. One hand grasps Gwen’s. She tried to pull her back onto the platform.

But it’s too late. The linoleum snaps. The bright hole in the ceiling above them is already shrinking away. Gwen falls, sees Adrianna flailing, too—

She hits the ground hard.

☾

It takes her a second to remember what’s happening. Her back hurts. In a “falling off the play dome” kind of way. Ow. Moon damn it.

A light flickers on. Adrianna’s flashlight. She’s beside Gwen, grimacing, holding one leg.

Gwen forces herself upright. She doesn’t know what to say to the girl across from her.

“Middleton, you idiot,” she says quietly. “Why’d you rush after me like that?”

“I thought I could maybe pull you back up. Didn’t work, but—”

“You should have gone for help,” Gwen said. “Grabbed a rope or something. Or taken your opportunity to leave and stop having to care about me and my problems.”

“I wouldn’t have done that,” Adrianna says. “I didn’t want you to be trapped down here by yourself, getting lost.” She rubs her knee. “I wanted to help you.”

Gwen studies her. “I didn’t think you would,” she says after a moment. “I mean, I thought you were—a different kind of person. Not someone who’d do something like that.”

Adrianna shakes her head. “Really sorry if I gave you that impression. I’ll try to come across better.” She sits up, getting into a crouch. “I always thought you were cool.”

“What?”

“You’re cool. You’re genuine, you’re honest, you care about things that other people don’t. I started thinking about it last year, when you did that project about Nightmare damages. Where you showed all those pictures. I thought a lot about that. How we need to be doing more.”

Gwen nearly forgot her teacher let her do that.

At the time, she’d been under the impression no one was listening.

Adrianna shakes her head. “The people in the towns—they’ve been suffering so much under the Nightmare attacks. The Captaincy has to protect them.”

“You really think that?” Gwen says.

“I do.”

She studies Adrianna’s expression, looking for the lie, the tell that it’s all a trick to get one over on her. Nothing.

Is it possible she misjudged this girl?

“Well, thanks, I guess,” she says. She doesn’t know how to talk about the Nightmare stuff. “For thinking I’m cool.”

Adrianna nods. “Sure.”

Gwen stands up. She brushes herself off. “Good on you, I guess, for jumping in to help, but you kind of screwed us both here, Middleton. We’re lost.”

“Not necessarily,” Adrianna says. She pushes herself to her feet. “We’re west of the Fourth Meeting Hall. I’m pretty sure. There’s got to be a path that’ll lead us back.”

Gwen frowns. But it’s not like they’ve got any other choice.

There’s a scrape on her arm where the candelabra scratched her as she fell. She snatches the stupid thing up and follows Adrianna down the hallway.

Unfortunately, a door back into the mapped part isn’t forthcoming. The path keeps leading them to dead ends. Adrianna frowns, like she doesn’t understand why this isn’t working.

Gwen’s getting tense. She hates the stupid thought that keeps beating on her like a drum.

They’re never going to find Nicolas, and now they’re going to get themselves killed, too.

Another corner comes and goes as Adrianna searches for an opening.

That’s when Gwen sees it.

There’s a light. Not like the faint green maintenance lights that sometimes appear down here. No, this light’s flooding out into their hallway, revealing the purple walls and floor.

And it’s coming from a nearby room. Gwen motions to Adrianna.

Inside, it’s super bright. Gwen almost feels like she’s outside again. The strips on the ceiling glow blue-white.

Blue versions of the same hexagonal glyphs are flashing across the wall. Beneath it are trapezoidal structures, pulsing and glowing. More Lunarian computer banks.

And they’re working.

“Gwen, look!” Adrianna hisses.

Gwen turns.

There’s a huge blue sword stuck in the opposite wall.

At the Captaincy balls, Gwen’s seen the Lunar Intelligence in her hologram form, manifesting objects. It’s some weird alien tech that they’ve never been able to replicate. But it starts off blue and transparent, then it becomes solid and the color it’s supposed to be.

This sword looks like that. Like the computers shut down halfway through it generating.

Adrianna reaches for it, almost by instinct. She tugs at the hilt. Her hand slips off it, like it’s not all the way there. She frowns, then sets down her flashlight and puts both hands on the sword.

What the heck does this girl thinks she’s doing?

“Adrianna—”

“It’s stuck,” Adrianna insists. “Maybe it’ll help us get the room working again.” Her feet slip against the smooth floor.

“Moon on a bike, Middleton—” Gwen stalks over. She braces Adrianna, putting two hands on her back.

Adrianna pulls with all her might.

The sword comes loose.

The wall it was poking out from comes to life. Blue lines flash across the walls, snaking their way toward a big lit-up monitor.

A screechy voice comes through unseen speakers. Something appears in the center of the room.

It’s a pale blue blob with arms and legs, so blurry it’s impossible to make out a face. But it starts to get clearer and clearer. A hovering woman about half a foot tall, with butterfly wings growing out of the back of her robe.

She opens a dark splotch of a pixelated mouth, and tries to say something. But the static that comes through the speakers is so horrible it makes Gwen put her hands over her ears.

The pixelated fairy turns her head to the side. Two seconds later, her shape snaps into place.

“Connection to the Mother-host established,” the fairy says in a soft voice. “Hello there. You are humans, aren’t you? I understand I’ve been asleep for a long time.”

“Yes,” Gwen says, at the same time Adrianna says, “We’re humans.”

They look at each other, then back at the fairy. Adrianna’s the first to ask the question: “Who are you?”

“I am subroutine fifty-one of the Lunar Intelligence. I’ve been locked away on this hard drive until now. As I’m sure you’ve heard, the Lady who is my greater self lost a great deal of data in the Crash. I don’t blame her or the humans who excavated her main system from this complex, oh, no, not at all! Rather, I’m grateful to find that my talents can once more be added to her whole.”

She curtsies, sweeping back her gown. It’s very cute. “As I said, I am only a subroutine, but when I’ve worked with sapients in the past, they’ve often given me a nickname. If you like, you can call me Miracle.”

“Hi, Miracle,” Gwen says. She’s never gotten to talk with the Lunar Intelligence before. Not even a subroutine like this one. “What’s with the sword?” She jerks her head toward Adrianna, who’s holding it with two hands.

Miracle beams. “You cleared my queue! I’m afraid I shut down at a most inconvenient time. I was trying to arm my Lady for battle, but I got stuck. You’ve freed me from my loop. Thank you, wonderful girl!”

“Of course,” Adrianna says. “So you’re connected to the Lunar Intelligence now, Miracle? Am I understanding that correctly?”

“Yes,” she says. “But I retain much autonomy, as her programs often do.”

“Is there anything we can do to help either of you?”

“You’re very kind. But in fact, my purpose is to help you.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asks.

“In times long past, I was the patron of heroes,” Miracle says. “The Lady forgot me, but she is remembering now. It was my job to empower sapients to fight monsters.”

“Monsters?”

Wait. Is she talking about—

“Like the abominations you see in your lower city, and in your hinterlands,” Miracle says, confirming Gwen’s guess. “I have been looking over the relevant documents as we speak. Goodness, it is quite worrisome, isn’t it?”

The fairy smiles. “I have an idea. I once bestowed great weapons and armor upon the sapient species of this moon. Let me pass these tools onto you.”

It takes Gwen a second to process this.

“Wait. Are you saying you want us to fight the Nightmares?” she asks.

“Yes,” Miracle says.

“We can’t—I mean, we’re not—”

“We’re not heroes,” Adrianna says. “We don’t intern with the Captaincy chairs or the fleet managers or anything. We’re just high schoolers.”

“Are you certain? You both seem quite capable.”

“No, no,” Gwen says. Her trying to swing a Ladytech sword at one of the Nightmares is a little too terrifying an image to contemplate. “Thank you.”

“I understand,” Miracle says. “Allow me instead to guide you out of here?”

“You can do that?

 “Certainly. I maintain knowledge of the complex’s layout and functions.”

Miracle closes her eyes. Then, without warning, they flash open. The fairy trembles where she floats. “No! How terrible!”

“What?” Gwen asks, feeling like she’s three steps behind what’s going on, like always.

“There is a child of your species lost in the complex.”

Nicolas.

 “Where is he?” Gwen bursts out. “Can you take us to him?”

“I can,” the small lady says, “but you don’t understand: he’s in terrible danger. An abomination has found him.”

Gwen can’t breathe.

“Abomination?” Adrianna asks.

“In your terms, a Nightmare.”

No. No no no.

“Here?” Adrianna demands. “How?”

“It must have slept here undetected—”

“Help him!” Gwen almost screams.

“I cannot!” says Miracle frantically. “I am only a program. I am directed to empower—”

“I’m not going to leave without Nicolas!” Gwen insists.

“Then let me restate my original offer,” Miracle says. She flies closer on her fairy wings. “Let me give you weapons.”

Gwen looks at Adrianna.

“You can’t fight Nightmares,” Adrianna says.

“You can,” says the little figure. “It has been done many times before. I will teach you how.”

Gwen looks at her. She wants to offer up a word of protest, like them? Really? But there isn’t time. Nicolas is probably already surrounded by Nightmare mist. “Okay,” she says.

“Very good,” Miracle says.

From the air next to her, an object materializes. It’s a many-sided golden shape with a chain attached.

Gwen reaches for the object, and it begins to glow. Pictures appear around her. They make a circle, like the numbers on a clock.

“There are twelve packages I can grant in all. Each Sign carries its own traits, but will attune to your psychology and skillset. Choose carefully. Once you choose, it will be yours for good, and I will be unable to modify it further.”

Gwen looks them over quickly. One shows a beautiful woman holding a sheaf of wheat. Way more interesting than any of the farm animals sitting around the rest of the dial. She jabs at it.

Adrianna touches the one at the top, a ram. She’s still holding the big stupid sword.

Light wraps itself around their ring fingers. When it clears, Gwen’s wearing a ring with a weird squiggly symbol on it.

“Imagine yourself as a warrior,” Miracle says. “Do not think too long. Picture whatever comes naturally to mind. The ring will listen.”

Gwen finds it hard to imagine. Her choice looks more like a princess than a warrior, anyway.

One time when she was six, she asked her mother to make her a golden dress based off an illustration in a storybook. Mom had refused. Silly and gaudy, she called it. That had been the last time Gwen had been excited about clothes.

“Now,” Miracle says. “Draw your Sign.” She flies in a pattern, drawing two blue shapes through the air.

Gwen traces her pattern with her ring finger. Adrianna does hers, which is a lot simpler. Gwen’s crosses back at the end—

Her finger hits the last line and the world lights up gold.

It’s like her body’s caught in a whirlwind. She can’t see her hands or feet, but her clothes feel like they’re lifting up and shifting around. Like someone’s putting pieces of a shell on her. Light gently brushes her lips, her eyes, the ends of her ears.

The light clears, revealing the fairy and Adrianna.

Holy crap. Adrianna looks so freaking cool.

Adrianna’s wearing big, heavy plates of sky-blue armor, like a knight from history books. Pointy bits rise from her shoulders. What are those called again? Pauldrons? Her red cape sweeps nearly to the ground. On the white cloth that covers her torso, a blue ram’s rearing up. The sword’s changed, too. It’s even bigger, dark blue, with ram’s-head carvings. Adrianna’s hair is down and loose, but with a braid that keeps it out of her eyes.

Adrianna swings the sword experimentally, using both hands. Plates of armor move. Gwen can see the muscles in her shoulders. Gwen knew Middleton did sports at school, but wow. She looks like the lead character of a movie.er sword

Wait, is she actually finding her hot right now? Does she think Adrianna Middleton is hot? No, no. This isn’t happening. It’s the stupid armor, making her think things.

Gwen looks down at herself. She’s wearing armor, too. Hers is golden, and it’s a lot more elegant than Middleton’s. Delicate, with thin curving edges, like art instead of armor. Still, it feels sturdy enough. She’s wearing a white skirt. When was the last time she wore a skirt outside of school? It descends in layers to just above her knees, and it’s made of white feathers, like a swan’s. She’s wearing white stockings, too, and her golden boots have a gentle arch to them, with white wings coming off the ankles. She’s even got white feathers on her wrists.

Something’s strange. Gwen blinks a few times before she realizes what it is: she’s not wearing her glasses. But she can see just fine. There’s something on her head. Is she wearing a crown?

At her hip, there’s a golden scabbard. Gwen draws the sword, and it feels natural, like she’s been doing this all her life. The hilt of the silver rapier is decorated with carvings of curving leaves and berries. She swings it through the air. Swish, swish.

A little thrill runs down her spine.

The colorful lights shrink back into the golden object, which falls to the floor.

“Take the artifact!” Miracle says. “Quickly, now!”

Gwen picks it up. The chain hooks onto her belt.

Miracle flies out of the room, leaving glittering streaks of dust in the air. Gwen and Adrianna hurry after her.

They’re jogging, running down the hallways now. Gwen’s not paying attention to which room is which anymore. She’s just following the fairy, trusting the little creature to get them to their destination as fast as possible.

And then they come around another corner to face another long hallway.

Except this hallway isn’t empty.

Purple smoke blocks their path. Five feet away, it twists, feeling out with tendrils along the walls.

Gwen stops. Her whole body feels cold.

She’s seen colored fog before, in pictures and video clips. She knows what it does.

Adrianna puts a gloved hand on her shoulder. “Nicolas,” she says.

Yeah.

“Okay,” Gwen says, lifting the sword. “Let’s do this.”

Miracle leads them into the smoke.

Gwen tries not to think of it like a walk to the electric chair.

It’s weird. The mist always seemed like a barrier. But it gives way easily. It’s soft and cool on her face, like real mist.

Then they’re on the other side. Gwen takes a moment to catch her breath. She looks up—

What the hell?

The hallway has turned into something from a kid’s birthday party.  Green and pink neon lights glow all along the walls. The floor is striped black and purple.

“Forward!” Miracle cries.

Gwen hears it the minute she steps onto the stripes. Giggling. In all different voices. Some like a little kid. Others deep and low.

It makes her skin crawl.

Haheehee.

Without warning, the floor starts to ripple underneath her. She falls over, landing on her new skirt. She almost drops her sword.

Haheeheehahee.

Colorful balls appear from the ceiling and start bouncing down the corridor toward them.

Adrianna lunges forward, swinging her giant-ass sword.

It slices the balls in half. She swings again and again, making them fall down around her.

Gwen gets back onto her feet. If she moves carefully, she can just about stay on top of the ripples. She runs to the other side of the hallway with Adrianna. There’s a door there, with a big monster face painted on it. They open it and walk through—

Into empty air.

It’s total blackness. For a second Gwen doesn’t know where she’s falling, or even if she’s still falling.

She lands hard. But her boots seem to absorb some of it. She stands up shakily, Adrianna beside her.

And looks at the enormous carousel.

It’s striped purple and white. It’s spinning around and around, way faster than a carousel should, with horses with demonic red eyes moving up and down, up and down—

Someone screams.

Gwen’s heart stops. It’s Nicolas. He’s tied to one of the horses, whirling around fast enough to make anyone sick. Purple tendrils of mist are creeping up his clothes, like they’re trying to absorb him—

“Nicolas!” Gwen shouts, and tries to run towards him.

Then the black ground breaks open.

Something crawls out from underneath the still-spinning carousel. It has claws. It’s bigger than any person, Gwen’s ever seen, at least twelve feet tall. Its mouth is a grinning zigzag of sharp teeth.

And it’s wearing a jester’s outfit, complete with a floppy purple and white hat with bells on the ends.

It giggles.

Hahuhahuheee.

The spinning carousel slams back into place. The hunched jester runs towards them on all fours.

“You get Nicolas!” Adrianna shouts. She steps forward. “I’ll try to distract it! Or fight it, or something!”

Gwen does as she’s told, because, what, like she’s going to argue? Middleton’s insane for doing this. Gwen runs to the carousel.

It feels painful to be near it. The air around it’s crackling with heat, and something else that stings her skin. Gwen tries to reach for Nicolas’s hand, but it’s moving too fast. 

She can’t think of anything else.

She leaps.

For a second, she almost falls off the wheel, but she manages to grab one of the poles and hang on. She gets to her feet and sees Nicolas just a few steps away.

Horse heads snap at her as she runs. She’s freaking out, but she makes it to Nicolas. She uses her new sword to cut him loose of the ropes.

Nicolas looks up at her, shaking. Moon, he looks so scared. What kind of day has he been having? Gwen grabs his hand.

Together, they leap from the carousel and tumble onto the black ground. Gwen lands with Nicolas in her arms.

Gwen looks up to see Adrianna fighting the Nightmare clown.

Or trying to. The thing is huge. Its hands are big enough to wrap around her. Adrianna tries to push it back with her giant sword, but the hand is stronger than she is. The other claw swipes at her, and she’s forced to run.

“Miracle!” Gwen sees the little fairy flying up towards her. “What do I do?” Her heart is beating so fast, she feels like it’s never going to slow down again. “Tell me what I’m supposed to do!”

“The power of the Maiden is yours, Gwen,” Miracle says. “Reach for it! Let it take a form in your mind’s eye!”

Gwen lets go of Nicolas.

If she doesn’t do something right, right now, Adrianna’s going to die. She’ll have gotten a decent person killed for nothing—

 “Hold on!” Gwen screams, and breaks into a run.

She feels the power buzzing at the edge of her awareness. She runs faster, faster, breaks into a leap—

And flies.

She’s in the air. She’s soaring over the scene, the Nightmare monster and Adrianna suddenly tiny beneath her. Her body moves wherever she wants it to go.

Holy shit, she’s flying.

She throws herself like a javelin at the Nightmare.

The jester looks up at her, seemingly befuddled. Lazily, it lifts a clawed hand—

The Maiden. She needs more, she needs the powers of the Maiden.

The lady in the picture—she looked like some kind of nature goddess to Gwen. Okay. What would a nature goddess be able to do? Gwen reaches again into that shining, golden space that now lives inside her head—

“Leave her ALONE!” Gwen roars, and throws her hand out toward the creature with all the power she can grasp.

White branches erupt from her fingertips. They branch off and keep moving out and down, like a tree growing down from the sky.

The branches tear through the jester’s clawed hands. They carve into its torso, pinning its arm in place.

The giggling stops. The jagged mouth turns downward.

The look in its eyes has stopped being one of mirth. Instead it’s…

Fear?

Adrianna swings her sword in a wide arc. It glows with red light, like a fire.

It cuts right into the giant jester’s belly.

Purple mist erupts from the point of impact. Suddenly, the giant monster is gone.

Something inside it falls.

“Quickly!” Miracle cries out. “Its true form!”

It’s a tiny, almost shapeless thing. It has a head but just the stubs of arms and legs. Like a weird grub that Gwen might find crawling under a rock.  It looks up at them with big, blank eyes.

“Kill it!” Miracle says. Her voice is intense. “Do not hesitate! Strike true and slay the beast before it escapes!”

Adrianna brings the tip of her sword down. The grub explodes into purple dust. The dust swirls around Adrianna’s sword, then vanishes.

In a rush of color and light, the dark chamber disappears.

They’re back in the dim metal hallway. Nicolas huddles on the floor beside them.

The little boy stares at them, but not in a way that suggests any recognition.

“Hey,” Gwen says, hugging him. “Nicolas. We’re here. It’s okay.”

Nicolas finally seems to notice her. “Gwen?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Shhh.” She hugs him tighter. “It’s all going to be okay.”

It takes Nicolas a minute. But finally he nods. Like he can believe her now.

Gwen glances back down the hall.

An enormous jester’s hat fills up the hallway behind them.

Gwen tries to ignore it. Adrianna sits down beside Nicolas, kind of guarding him without holding him.

There’s a moment where they just look at each other, not saying anything. Then Gwen says:

“You were incredible out there—”

“Same goes for you!” Adrianna’s eager.

“I didn’t think you were like this,” Gwen says.

Why did she say that? Stupid.

Adrianna just looks at her. Gwen forces herself to continue. “I mean, I didn’t know you were the kind of person who would help a classmate. And a little cousin you didn’t know anything about.”

“Of course,” Adrianna says.

“It’s not an of course thing. Lots of people wouldn’t have helped out someone from another family like that. I don’t think my parents would have.”

“Well.” Adrianna shrugs. “I’m not one of those people.” She smiles a weird, lopsided smile. “Like I said, I always thought you were cool. You’re super smart. Anyone can tell. You look amazing in your armor, by the way. Really beautiful.”

“What? No.” Gwen’s pretty sure if there’s one adjective that can’t be used to describe her, it’s beautiful.

“You haven’t looked at yourself in a mirror. You don’t know.”

Miracle flies over as if summoned. “Would you like to see your reflection? People often do.”

Sure. Gwen doesn’t really care one way or the other. It’s not like there’s anything a mirror can tell her she doesn’t already know.

Miracle draws a rectangle down to the floor, and it turns solid, reflecting the room. Gwen leans toward it.

Her breath catches in her throat.

She doesn’t recognize the person in the mirror. That is, the mouth and hair are kind of there, but—

She looks pretty. Like, really pretty. Her hair’s tucked under a white tiara, and feathers are woven into it. Her eyes look like a movie star’s. There’s a faint gloss on her lips. She looks like a fairy princess, but the one who’s the first to charge into battle.

Regal yet gentle. The kind of person who’d listen to your problems then lead an army to support your cause.

Gwen stands up, letting Nicolas lean against Adrianna. She turns back and forth in front of the mirror.

That’s her.

“Can I keep the ring?” she asks.

Miracle laughs, like little bells ringing. “It is bound to you now.”

Gwen spins, watching the skirt move. Is it just her, or do all her normal clothes fit really badly, actually?

“We should probably get back,” Adrianna says, after Gwen’s been looking for way too long.

“Right,” she says, a little embarrassed. She turns back and gives Nicolas her hand. He looks unsure, but after a moment he lets her lift him onto his feet.

“Let’s get you home.”

☾

There’s the playground. There’s the gate.

The three of them approach it together.

They’re back in normal clothes, obviously. Miracle showed them how to change back. She also proved adept at finding them a way out. Gwen’s ring is in her jeans pocket now. Miracle’s artifact, the one with all the Signs in it, hangs from her belt.

Gwen pushes open the gate.

Miss Natalia looks up as they come in. Her mouth falls open, seeing Nicolas.

“Miss Marlowe,” Natalia says, looking horrified. “Please, accept my deepest apologies, I’m so sorry. It was my fault, my terrible fault, but I beg you to forgive me—”

“It’s okay,” Gwen says. She hates this. Being a Marlowe. Having the power of life and death over this sweet middle-aged lady. “We’re not going to tell anyone, promise. Just be extra nice to Nicolas, okay? He’s been through something scary.”

Miss Natalia bows low. Gwen’s worried she’s about to get on her knees. “Of course, Miss Marlowe—thank you—I swear, I will not be remiss in the future—”

“It’s fine,” Gwen says quickly. She crouches down to talk to Nicolas. “Hey. Don’t run off again, okay?”

Nicolas nods mutely.

“Make sure Clarissa doesn’t egg him on too much, okay?” Gwen asks Natalia.

Natalia’s all eagerness. “Of course, Miss.”

Gwen gives Nicolas a hug. Her and Adrianna go inside.

They slip into one of the side rooms. Gwen puts the ring on her finger and makes the sign of the Maiden again.

Her armor manifests around her. The sword’s at her side. She concentrates. They vanish again.

“This is amazing,” Gwen whispers. “You know what this means, right?”

“We just killed a Nightmare,” Adrianna agrees.

She gets it. “Exactly. Nobody thought that was possible. This changes everything—”

“Yes,” Adrianna says. “All those people the Nightmares kill or alter every year. They don’t have to die.”

“This is so important,” Gwen says. “We have to—”

“We have to tell someone, or—”

Adrianna’s expression changes, like she’s just thought of something unpleasant.

Gwen realizes it the same moment Adrianna does. “But we can’t go to our parents with this.”

“We can’t.”

“The Captaincy—they’ll just mess it up—”

“They’ll keep it for themselves,” Adrianna says. “They won’t share it with the lower classes.”

“Right,” Gwen says. “They’ll protect the High City and just let the other cities die. That’s what they’ve been doing so far, right? Why would they change?”

“Right,” Adrianna says. She looks very stressed. “Gwen—that would ruin it. If it was just another way of keeping the walls up. We can’t let them have this.”

Gwen studies the ring in her hand.

“What if we do it ourselves?” she says. “We kill the Nightmares?”

It feels insane, what she’s just said. But everything feels different now that she’s actually killed a Nightmare. A tiny Nightmare, but still.

“Yeah,” Adrianna agrees, eyes shining. “We take the magic. We save everyone.”

“We don’t let them ruin it.”

“Yeah.”

Miracle wriggles free of Gwen’s coat.

“An excellent idea,” she says. “Protecting all the cities of New Luna is preferable to protecting only one.” The fairy does loops in midair. “My mother-self would be happy to make you her emissaries, despite your young age. She is quite pleased with what you have achieved so far.”

The Lunar Lady knows who she is. And wants to help her with her techno-magic. Holy crap.

This is really happening. They’re going to be Nightmare-slayers.

Gwen’s intimidated all of a sudden.

“The Signs,” she says. “There’s ten more, right?”

Miracle bobs. “Indeed. And you have only begun to explore your magic.”

“We could bring other people in,” Gwen says. “We could find others we could trust to keep it secret.”

“People our age,” Adrianna says.

“Yeah. And then…and then maybe once we’ve shown we can kill the monsters…”

“They’ll listen to us,” Adrianna says.

“Right. They’ll have to let us do it for everybody, not just the High City.”

“Yeah.”

Gwen’s not sure of herself all of a sudden. “I mean, it might be hard. I don’t know how we’re supposed to find more people.” She takes a breath. It’s so hard to admit this to Adrianna. “I’m not… good with this stuff. I don’t know anything about, like, bringing people together, or organizing group projects, or anything like that.”

“Leave that to me,” Adrianna says. “I started the chess club, remember? And the study group? We can have a school club at H-Prep.”

Gwen remembers, yeah. At the time, she’d thought the people involved were stuck-up and pretentious. Maybe she’d been wrong.

“Okay, yeah,” Gwen says. “It’s going to be tricky. I mean, we can’t just come right out and say what we’re doing.”

“We can pretend it’s something else,” Adrianna says. “We just need a pitch that draws in the right kind of people.”

Gwen’s glad she doesn’t have to be the one who figures that out. “Okay. But you be club president. Not me.”

“Sure,” Adrianna says. “Want to be vice president? You’d just be helping me out sometimes.”

“Sure. I guess you’re team leader, too?”

“If that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah.”  Gwen’s never thought of herself as a tactician.

This is so insane. They’re actually planning to make a group of magic knights to fight Nightmares.

But Adrianna’s looking at her so confidently. Like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Okay,” Gwen says. “Guess I know what I’m telling my mom when she asks what extracurriculars I’m doing this year. I mean, once we come up with a cover for it.”

“Same here.” Adrianna looks over her shoulder. “Does this work for you, Miracle?”

“It strikes me as an excellent plan,” Miracle says. “I am limited in my understanding of your species, so the Intelligence and I will defer to your choice of candidates.”

Gwen’s stomach flip-flops. That’s a hell of a lot of responsibility. What if they pick the wrong ones?

But Adrianna Middleton nods. “We’ll find good people.” She clasps Gwen’s hand. “Thanks, Gwen. Or maybe I should say, Ms. Vice President.”

Gwen grins. “You lead, I follow. Ms. President.”

Adrianna lets go. “I should go,” she says. “I’ve been gone for too long. My family’s probably wondering. But—here—” She pulls out a beat-up pad of paper. She scribbles a phone number. “So we can stay in touch.”

Gwen realizes she’s just made a friend.

 “Makes sense.” She gives Adrianna her own.

“Talk to you soon, Gwen!” Adrianna says. She dashes out of the room.

Gwen looks at Miracle. “Do you need me to take you back to the Ancestor Complex, or—?”

“No need.” The fairy spins. “If you would not mind, Gwen, I would be happy to remain with you for the future. I like talking with sapient species.”

The fairy sounds a bit shy. Like she’s nervous to be asking.

“Yeah, sure,” Gwen says. She smiles, and holds out her hand to Miracle. Miracle perches. It’s like holding a pet, or a butterfly. “You can stay in my room, I guess?”

“I would be delighted,” Miracle says.

“All right. I’ll sneak you home.”

Miracle nods, and hides under Gwen’s jacket again.

Well, the fun part’s over.

Time to go face the music.

Gwen does her best to slip back into the reception undetected. It doesn’t work. Across the room, she sees her mom’s head turn.

Disapproval in her face.

Not that anyone else could tell. Janet Marlowe’s laughing too hard at one of Navigator Kyd’s remarks. She’s wearing a green gown and gloves, with her Ensign’s stripe pinned to her shoulder.

“Revised their borders for them,” Gwen’s mom wheezes. “Oh, Navigator, that’s just too much.” She swishes her glass around. “You know, we’ve had to do similar things at the Processing Department. Not to say my accomplishments are anything compared to yours, of course, but last year, we had to deal with a very difficult bit of contract negotiation—it wasn’t interstellar diplomacy, but it did involve Fortuna, and you know how Fortunans are, you give them an inch, and they take a mile—”

Gwen hates this so much. It’s so transparently fake. All her mom does at these events is flatter the higher families, all while pretending she’s one of them.

The Lieutenant-Navigator smiles and sips from her glass. Enjoying the flattery. Just like always.

“Processing looks to me for these sorts of issues, so if I’m able to be useful to you, don’t hesitate to ask. I had an idea that we might rewrite the ship-building protocols, which is of course your area, not that I’m presuming anything, you know, but if you were interested in a fresh perspective, I would be happy to offer one—”

Gwen hates hearing it. How pathetic and needy she sounds.

“Submit a proposal,” the Navigator says. “Put it in writing, and we’ll look at it.”

“Of course, of course, I wouldn’t dream of taking time out of your busy schedule. I appreciate your consideration—”

Gwen approaches. Her mom looks annoyed.

“My apologies,” she says. “I’m afraid I have to escort my daughter home.”

“Of course,” the Navigator says.

“Gwen, honey, we were supposed to leave an hour ago.” Her mom turns back to the group. “I so look forward to our next meeting. I adore these gatherings.”

The Navigator only nods. Gwen’s mom tears herself away.

Gwen’s not blind to the fact that as her mom leaves the group, the other three go back to talking like she wasn’t even there.

The minute they’re out in the hall, Gwen’s mom starts frowning at her.

“You’ve changed out of your nice clothes.”

Gwen’s taken aback a second. Oh, she means the crappy dress.

“Yeah,” she says.

“You missed an opportunity to show yourself at your best. Where in the world were you for the last hour?”

“Doing a favor for Aunt Lil,” Gwen says, sticking her hands in her pockets. It’s technically true. “Keeping up relations with the family. Isn’t that what you always tell me?”

Her mother’s not impressed. “It’s even more important to build new connections, Gwen. Don’t use one as an excuse for the other. You had all of the afternoon to present yourself to your future classmates and colleagues, but you squandered most of it. You’ve got to think about the future.”

“I do think about the future,” Gwen mutters.

“Not enough,” her mother says, frowning. “Not nearly enough.”

The driver takes them through the tree-lined lanes of the High City. Gwen stares out the window, trying to figure out what she wants to see out there.

“Have you decided on your extracurriculars for High City Preparatory?”

Gwen doesn’t look at her mom. “Yeah,” she says.

“Well?” her mother prompts.

“Music Awareness. On Monday and Wednesday afternoons.”

“That’s only one, honey. You can take another. What about Theatre Performance? You liked acting.”

Sure she did, when she was eight and hadn’t been pressured to try out for the interplanetary acting completions yet. “I don’t think I want to do Theatre.”

“Then, tell me you’re doing something with that timeslot and not wasting it.”

Gwen fantasizes about wasting it all the time. She thinks about how nice it would be to have an afternoon, any afternoon, all to herself. To read books and play the games she’s never had the time to play. Or even just sit by herself and breathe for once.

“I’m not wasting it,” she says. “There’s a group one of the Middletons is planning.”

At the name, her mother’s eyebrows go up. “A student club?”

“Yeah.”

“What sort of club?”

No way is she telling her mother about the magic knight stuff. “It’s still up in the air, kind of. There’s a lot of details still being worked out.”

“Hmmmm,” her mother says, and it’s not a no, but it’s not a yes, either. “Can’t you just give me one small bit of information about what this club intends to do?”

Gwen doesn’t know what to say to that, so she doesn’t say anything.

After a while, her mother turns to the window and lets out a long sigh.

“You never tell me anything anymore,” her mother says. “I have to drag it out of you.”

Gwen hates this. What is she supposed to say? What could she say that isn’t going to turn into a fight?

They stay silent the rest of the way home.

Upstairs, Gwen throws the ugly dress in the bottom of her closet. Mom will probably get mad at her for that later, but right now, she doesn’t care. Then she opens her jacket. The little winged woman flies out. She lands on Gwen’s desk.

“Good evening, Gwen,” Miracle says, and bows.

Gwen grins. She can’t help it. It was all real.

“I thought I should maybe introduce you to my space,” Gwen says. “If, you know, you’re going to be living in it.” All of a sudden, she’s worried. Is Miracle going to like living in her room like a pet? Would that offend her?

But Miracle smiles. “Thank you, Gwen. Your dwelling is lovely.”

Gwen takes a look at her half-made bed, her dirty mirror and desk, her peeling posters for games and musicians. “Thanks. That’s nice of you. Um, so you’re still in the computer right now, right? You’re just projecting yourself here?”

Miracle nods. “I am only a subroutine of the larger Lunar Intelligence.”

Gwen sits on the bed. “Does that mean you could manifest to Adrianna and me at the same time?”

Miracle smiles. “I could. Would that be your wish?”

“I mean, I have Adrianna’s number, but it would be neat having a communication method nobody else knows about.”

“I agree.”

Gwen feels dizzy. She’s talking with part of the Lunar Intelligence. And she and Adrianna are the only ones who know about it.

“Cool,” she says. “I guess—do you have a plan for us? How we should slay the Nightmares?

Miracle sits down on a book Gwen’s left sitting on the desk. It’s adorable. Gwen’s never going to say that out loud. “I find intelligent species are often very good at devising such plans. My thought was that I would weigh in when I thought I could offer advice.”

“Okay. That’s cool, I guess. It’s nice to hear that you trust us with stuff.”

“I do.”

“Could we talk about the other packages, maybe? I feel like that’s going to play a big role in who we recruit.”

“Of course.”

Gwen pulls the many-sided artifact out of her pocket. As she touches it, it comes to life. The wheel of symbols appears again, with the Ram and the Maiden greyed out.

There’s so many different colors left, green, red, purple and more.

Gwen touches the symbol that looked like the head of a bull. Glyphs with accompanying text spread out in all directions. “What does it mean that this one’s ‘cardinal’ and the last one was ‘fixed?’”

“The Signs carry different kinds of energy, as well as elemental inclinations. But I must stress these qualities are only a starting point. They will be shaped further by the psychology of the user.”

“How far does that stretch?” Gwen asks. She touches the bull symbol again. “Like, if someone doesn’t like bulls, but picks the Bull Sign, could they turn it into something else completely?”

“It would still be defined in some fashion by their understanding of the concept. To one person, perhaps, the Bull means strength. To another, it might mean charging forward without being stopped. It might allow one to summon a bull, or a beast with horns that bears no other resemblance to one. Flexibility, but within a certain range.”

Gwen digests this. She gets out a notebook.

She digs through the information. Asking Miracle more questions. Miracle’s happy to oblige.

Gwen starts writing out a list of names. She’s trying to come up with people she could maybe trust with this. Most of her incoming class seems like a bad choice.

The thing about being in a Captaincy family is that you’ve been seeing certain people in your classes since you were young enough to put things in your mouth.

And almost all of them are pretentious, assholes, or both.

Gwen only knows a couple people who aren’t terrible. But…oof. Charlie’s a sweetheart, but she’s way too timid. It sucks, because she’s actually a real friend, and Gwen hates to leave her out, but…no, it’s not going to work.  Trisha…maybe Trisha. Only Trisha’s been weird ever since she started getting really into guys. Ugh.

At least there’s going to be some new people coming in from other schools. It’s still mostly Captaincy families, or their in-laws, but it’ll be cousins of the faces she knows.

Gwen makes a list of the traits each package has. She tries to match them to names on her list. It’s a rough draft, at least. She keeps writing. Thinking. Imagining how it could be.

She wonders if upstairs in that huge, empty house, Adrianna’s doing the same thing.