Sanctuary. ?ilina, Slovakia.

  They’d been up for twenty straight hours, but sleep was the farthest thing from Reeve’s mind. They got a little lost on the last stretch to the Sanctuary and they argued, snapping at each other. After ditching the car at a bus station, they walked the last half mile, blinking in the sunlight.

  At that range, it was easy to find the Sanctuary. Reeve could feel them. There were two bright dots of minds that he knew inside and out and he followed them. It was like having his hands untied after months of being handcuffed. This new angle of telepathy was still a little disorienting, but the more he used it, the more natural it felt.

  Misha answered their knock. It didn’t look like he was in good shape, from the red flush on his cheeks, but he was upright and had kept his family alive and Reeve couldn’t help but grin seeing him. Misha rolled his eyes and smiled in spite of himself.

  He stepped back from the door. “Come on,” he said, gesturing, “Let all the heat out, why don’t you.” The narrow entranceway got crowded fast. Alex and Hannah heard them and came at a jog. They looked good. Tired, but good. Something in his chest ignored the laws of gravity seeing the two of them smile like that.

  Alex barreled into Gareth, who caught him with a laugh. Reeve couldn’t pull his eyes away from them, watching. Gareth’s bulk made Alex look small while he thumped Alex’s back then held him at arm’s length, turning him slightly as though he were examining a precious thing for scratches. Alex’s grin, wide enough that it tugged at the stiff scars on one side of his face, unlocked something in him. Even as a telepath who was used to mental abilities having a synesthetic effect, Reeve marveled at his body’s capacity to transmute emotion into physical pain looking at Alex. It gripped his torso with a hollow pang like hunger three days in when it’s become all you can think about.

  Hannah hooked one arm around Reeve’s neck and broke his train of thought, pulling him in for a hug. He held her and, overwhelmed by how good she felt, squeezed her tighter.

  “You okay?” she asked quietly.

  He nodded into her hair. “You?”

  “Yeah, just please never leave me with Misha again.”

  He laughed. She pulled back to jump on Gareth. He picked her up in a bearhug. Alex had pushed past Gareth and was hugging a smiling Shvedov. Reeve turned back to Misha, who was standing with his back against the door, watching everyone. He extended a hand and after a beat Misha took it. He didn’t shake so much as just held it there for a moment.

  “Thank you for keeping them safe,” he said, meaning it.

  Misha dropped his hand and glanced behind Reeve at the others. “They don’t make it easy.”

  Reeve smiled. “Don’t I fucking know it.” He turned to look at them. Alex had picked up Shvedov’s bag and was walking him inside. He caught his eye for a brief second before Alex turned and kept walking. His face had been unreadable, blank. Hannah had her head tucked neatly under Gareth's arm and they were muttering together in the quiet way that they did. With his knack back under control, Reeve could tell that neither he nor Alex were going to get away with that interaction without being questioned. Reeve sighed. It was his own damn fault his life wasn’t simple.

  “Come on,” Misha said again, slapping Reeve on the back and they followed the others deeper into the house.

  “Are you on a day schedule?”

  “No,” Misha shook his head. “These bastards needed to stay up for you. I’m about to drop.”

  “Thank god, ‘cause I need to sleep.”

  “I talked a couple of Children into hitting the road early, knowing you all were coming, so we’ve got three bedrooms to split.” He raised his voice. “So everyone needs to go the fuck to sleep right now so we can get back to it tonight!”

  Reeve looked at that hallway in front of them. Alex and Alyosha were up front with Hannah and Gareth arm in arm behind them and Reeve and Misha at the rear. “Did those rooms just get divied up?” he asked Misha, deadpan.

  Misha groaned. “Oh Christ, probably.”

  They were as quiet as they could be on the stairs, with the rest of the Sanctuary asleep, and filed into the empty rooms. Reeve dropped his bag and sat heavily on the narrow bed. Misha shut the door.

  “Like old times, huh?”

  Reeve squinted, thinking. “We never dormed together.”

  Misha rolled his eyes again. “Ah yes, that must be why no one in Academy ever killed you in your sleep.” He was quiet for a second, then raised one eyebrow at him.

  “Don’t,” Reeve preempted. “I can’t. I’m already going to get it from Hannah later.”

  “You got the telepathy sorted?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good.” He switched off the light, catching Reeve halfway undressed in the dark. “‘Night.”

  “G’night,” he muttered, feeling around for his bag.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Misha spat, turning the light back on.

  “I’d hoped she’d let me sleep first.”

  Misha pointed to the door. “Out. Take it downstairs and sleep there.”

  Reeve had already stripped down to his boxers and a tee shirt. He was going to need sleep before he did this. He startled Hannah by opening the door and sticking his head out.

  “Later,” he said firmly.

  “You thought I wasn’t going to notice that Alex just greeted you like he was Gareth?”

  “I thought you’d go to sleep.”

  “You’re wrong a lot.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Jesus, Hannah—”

  “What did you do? And why don’t I know about it? He’s been weird this whole time but I figured it was because was missing you guys, but now—”

  “Hannah. If he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you.”

  “And you?”

  “I love you very much. Go to sleep.”

  He shut the door and dropped onto the bed. Misha shut off the light again. He yanked the covers up to his chin. “You gonna be happy to go back to traveling alone after we’re gone?”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up, Reeve.”

  He took a deep breath, willing it to take the place of his goosebump-raising ache. “Yeah, that’s fair,” was all he said. He slept.

  ---

  Gareth and Hannah got up early to cook for the others. If he tricked himself into ignoring the unfamiliar kitchen, it almost felt normal, like they were back at home in Beatty, with Alex oversleeping again and Reeve off tinkering in the garage. Hannah settled him in a way no one else did and in a way he didn't need to explain to her.

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  When the rest got up, it was a comfortable, familiar meal. Even with the addition of Misha and the other Child in the Sanctuary, Emil, whose English was terrible. But his Swedish was loud and melodic and he smiled and they managed with gestures. He was a Waterbreather, and hadn’t been in the Church long. Gareth wasn’t sure what kind of God would call a person to some kind of holy war with a knack that wouldn’t help a damn bit, but here Emil was, fighting anyway.

  The silence between Reeve and Alex left an odd gap in the flow of their conversation, though, and he could see Hannah was twitchy with it. While Reeve, Hannah, and Alyosha cleaned up, Gareth went upstairs, following after Alex.

  Gareth knocked, then stuck his head in. Alex was sitting on the bed, just putting his headphones in.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Yeah.” He hit a button on his music player and sat up straighter. His forehead was tense, though he was trying to hide it.

  He took a seat on the bed. “Hannah told me last night you guys had an Entropy run in. You okay?”

  “Yeah, it was freaky but we’re fine. Hannah told you about the kit?”

  Gareth blinked. “What kit?” He didn’t like how nervous Alex looked, even more so than when he’d come in.

  Alex made a stalling noise. “It was something the Entropy agent gave us to give to you.” He looked around. “I think Misha has it in his things.”

  Gareth’s feet went cold as a chill rose up his body. “A kit?”

  “It’s this suture kit?” Alex looked down and toyed with the blanket. “We wanted to know what it was, so I Read it. Adler gave it to you when you first met at the Spa.”

  There was a rushing sound in Gareth’s ears, as though he was underwater, and his pulse pounded inside his skull. “The Spa—” He shook his head. He couldn’t believe Adler would actually hold onto that and at the same time, absolutely knew that of course he would have kept it someplace special. “Sorry,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. See that.” When he looked up, Alex’s eyes were wide. If Alex felt half as unmoored as he looked, it would fracture Gareth’s chest. Gareth ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, counting them. It gave him some temporary semblance of calm.

  “I’m sorry,” Alex said quietly.

  “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” He gave his shoulder a quick pat. “I’m fine. I’m not new to Adler’s shit. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” His voice was a half an octave too high.

  Gareth raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to make me ask?”

  Alex deflated. “It’s just…” He bit his lip and wouldn’t look him in the face. He let out a whiny sigh.

  Gareth waited, keeping his face neutral.

  “This thing happened between me and Reeve.”

  “I figured that much, by the cold shoulder thing you’ve both got going on.”

  Alex screwed up his face. His foot was tapping against the floor. “No, like, something happened between me and—” He huffed and looked at Gareth desperately. “I don’t know how to talk about this.”

  His eyebrows rose higher. Not quite what he had been expecting. Not even close. “Okay. But we should talk.” Gareth leaned back, accepting the creaking of the floor as the most relaxing noise that had occurred in this room in the past ten minutes. Gareth squinted one eye like something was being thrown at him. “So, would it be accurate to say that your friend hooked up with someone and is having a hard time with it?”

  Alex’s eyes shifted back and forth, considering him. “I mean, this is super awkward, but that makes it way more awkward.”

  “Right. Okay. Nevermind.” Gareth rubbed at his overgrown hair. “So was it really bad?” He was trying to keep his voice casual like he talked about the sex lives of his gay friends, let alone gay friends he thought of as his kid, all the time. He didn’t think it was working.

  “No.” He said it like it was the beginning of a much longer sentence but didn’t continue.

  It struck him suddenly that Gareth had always been the only one who had ever really considered Alex to be his kid—that’s what foster meant, wasn’t it? Hannah saw him as a peer, or maybe a younger brother. Reeve apparently didn’t think of him as either of those.

  Gareth cleared his throat. “Okay, you know how often I feel like punching Reeve, yeah? Is this an ‘I’m going to want to punch Reeve situation,’ or an ‘I’m going to need to gut Reeve situation?’ You know, before we get any further.” He knew he would, too.

  “What?”

  “I mean, I’m getting that he hurt you and I don’t doubt that, but did you want to?”

  Alex recoiled, shocked. “What the fuck!” He checked the volume of his voice and continued softer. “Reeve would never—I had to practically talk him into it.”

  Gareth put a hand up. “I don’t need—” He did not want any more of a mental image than he already had but he was relieved nonetheless.

  “Plus, I’d have killed him already. But he’s just being an asshole.”

  Gareth let out a held breath as quietly as he could. “Well, I’m with you there. He’s a fuck up. How did he fuck up this time?”

  “He just—he acted like nothing happened. It was right before we split up, and then he...” Alex took a breath. “He made the decision to split up.” Gareth flinched a little at that, but he didn’t think Alex noticed. Alex’s voice got quieter. “And he didn’t talk to me. He just left.”

  Gareth put his face in his hands briefly. “He’s an idiot.”

  Alex opened his eyes wide. “I know.”

  “Well, I hate to say it, but the only way to make it stop feeling like this is to talk to him.”

  “I know, I just can’t yet.”

  “Oh, no. Not yet. Let him suffer. That’s fine.”

  “That’s not why I’m—”

  “I know, I know. It’s not about him. Just a pleasant byproduct.”

  That made Alex laugh, which lifted a weight from Gareth.

  “Thanks for talking to me, kid.” He stood up. “Can I hug you?”

  Alex nodded. “I love you.”

  He gave him one last squeeze. “I love you too. I’ll let you be alone.”

  Alex nodded again. Gareth needed fresh air. He wasn’t going to get it.

  On his way past the kitchen, Alyosha called him. “Hey, they want your input on something.”

  “Oh, Christ,” he said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t bother keeping his voice down. The others looked at him, surprised, except for Reeve, who barely looked at him. “Make it fast.”

  “Sorry to inconvenience you,” Misha said, his voice dripping with venom. “I thought you were bad, huh?” he nodded to Hannah. He turned back to Gareth, who could feel his ears burning. “I was telling them that I want to go make contact with someone who works with the local families. This is where I was planning to take you before the whole Entropy fiasco because this guy loves Icarus.”

  “He what?”

  “Loves them. Looser morals than the rest of the Church. If someone knows something about the Network, it’s him.”

  “So go,” Gareth shrugged.

  Hannah glanced around the room. “We were just thinking, given the last time he talked to them and what happened—”

  “Just do it.” He shot Reeve a glance. “I think we’ve gone way past doing anything with finesse.” Gareth nodded to Misha. “We’ll clean it up later if it needs cleaning up.”

  Misha shrugged. “Okay.”

  Reeve caught his attention and flicked his eyes toward the stairs for a brief second. Gareth shook his head.

  Leave him alone, Gareth thought to him. Reeve nodded.

  He gave Hannah a tell-you-later look. Gareth was done with people for a while.

  ---

  Sol LAHQ. Terre Department.

  Darwin’s caseload this semester wasn’t as packed with students as it had been in years prior, so he had more free blocks during which to catch up on his email backlog. He was clearing them at a good clip until he opened one from an older foster team based in San Jose.

  Hi, Darwin. We wanted to follow up with you on the email we sent regarding Gene’s reassignment. His cellphone has been deactivated and we haven’t been able to contact him on our own.

  He read and then reread the email. Gene. There was an uncomfortable falling feeling, and then it clicked in his head. Right, of course. Gene. Healer, ten-years-old. He really hated math. But Darwin didn’t remember where he’d been moved, let alone getting an initial email from his team. It was a quick lookup to see that Gene had been moved to Kyiv. Darwin’s stomach dropped off a cliff.

  It’s okay, he told himself. They know what they’re doing.

  It didn’t work. He kept looking. There was no contact information in his files, and he wasn’t included in the student directory. Darwin felt a shiver run down his spine and tried sending something to Gene’s old student email using the standard Sol formula of name and ID number, but it was undeliverable.

  Something wasn’t right. Transferring kids was one thing. Cutting off their means of contact was another. But what could he do? His boss obviously wasn’t concerned and he was pretty sure she was getting outright annoyed at him bringing it up. All of this was clearly above his paygrade. They knew what they were doing, right? They were higher up the ladder and knew more than Darwin did about all of this.

  But he couldn’t stop thinking about how much Gene hated math.

  Maybe if they saw everything all at once, it would hold more weight. He had to have everything lined up and ready to go. He started trying to formulate a list in his mind. Gene… There were others, he knew it. Their names were right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t get there. What is wrong with me? Squeezing his eyes shut as tight as he could, he tapped his forehead with both palms as if he could jostle the names free, but nothing came. This was not like him. On a whim, he stood and moved to sit in the chair he used while having sessions and looked at the student chair.

  Madison. Yes.

  And there was at least one more, too, but he couldn’t dredge it up. He smacked his head once more. The Kyiv Academy would have a roster, the way all academies did, so he rushed back to his computer chair.

  His heart dropped. It didn’t have a roster. In fact, there still was nothing at all about the Kyiv Academy in the system. But Gene’s file was still on the general student list. It got updated less frequently than the quarterly, location-specific rosters. If he went through all the student files, he could see who was labeled as a student in Kyiv. He could see how many.

  This was going to call for a spreadsheet.

  If he was going to look like he hadn’t gone off the deep end in front of whoever he decided to bring this to, he needed the information to be organized and clear. He opened a spreadsheet and began labeling. Student name. ID number. Place of origin. Knack. Date transferred to Kyiv Academy. He filled in Gene and Madison. A little formatting and once he got it all filled in, it would look great. Now it was just the matter of going through the beastly stack of student files one by one.

  You can do this, he told himself. It’s important. It’s for the kids. Save the spreadsheet and get back to work. Crap, saved it as a template. I’m rushing. I don’t think I even changed the file name. Nope. Concentrate. ‘Students transferred to Kyiv Academy.’ Save the spreadsheet. Jeez, I’m scattered. What is wrong with me recently? He stopped himself. The kids couldn’t do this. Their foster teams and teachers who missed them couldn’t do this. He could. So he had to.

  ***