They waited twenty-four hours – long enough to let their tired brains rest and churn over every aspect of what they were about to do. To their grim, slight and unspoken disappointment, by the time they met in the Hall at ten the next morning, neither had had any further epiphanies. The plan stood. Matt would teleport to ADX Florence with Will to check on Mentok, while Jane found and dealt with Dawn, reporting back at the first sign of any developments. Since Jane didn’t own a cellphone, Matt gave her his, pre-loaded with Will’s number, along with the solemn promise that he’d stick close to the teleporter at all times. A few minutes before they were due to leave, Jane (with an expression like she was physically extracting a bone from her finger) gave Matt something in return – her silver eagle, the badge Dawn had given her for winning the Challenge.

“It’ll help you get inside,” she managed to get out, her face contorted in almost physical pain as she passed Matt the pin, “Convince them you’re legit.” Matt gave her a smile of wordless thanks and went to put the badge in his top pocket – only for Jane to tightly grab hold of his wrist.

“If you lose that,” she said in a very quiet, dangerous voice, squeezing so tight it felt like his bones were going to snap, “I will literally murder you.”

“I’ll be careful,” he assured her, forcing a grin over his pained grimace and trying fruitlessly to tug free from her vice-like talons. Jane leant in so her blue-eyed, tattooed, and quite frankly terrifying face was an inch from his.

“Literally. Murder.”

She let go. “Please don’t lose my phone either,” Matt added ineffectually, sulking and massaging his wrists.

They still had a few minutes before they were supposed to be meeting Will, so Matt got up and brought over a plate of pancakes and bacon. Jane grunted her thanks, and they sat in silence, picking at the food, neither particularly hungry. With most Acolytes being out training, the Hall was relatively empty – a smattering of late-risers and the odd walking-wounded bearing a cast or compress while their injuries knitted together. The only full table was a group of about fourteen older Acolytes seated at the far end of the room, animatedly debating a group assignment, only a few spaces along from where the lone figure of Giselle Pixus sat slumped and staring off into space, unnoticed, practically invisible. Jane watched the speedster sitting alone in her black jumper, feeling a building sense of guilt.

“Should we tell her?” she asked Matt in a low voice, gazing worriedly at the silent, solitary figure. Matt followed her eyes.

“We can’t,” he muttered – though he sounded unhappy. “Not yet.”

“It seems cruel,” murmured Jane.

“She’ll know the truth eventually. Everyone will. We’ll make it right.”

“She thinks Ed killed himself because of her. She thinks everyone thinks she led him on.”

“Nobody blames her.”

“She does.”

“We can’t tell her before we talk to Dawn.”

Jane didn’t reply – just gazed unblinkingly at the miserable, silent Giselle.

“Do you think I’m wrong?” Matt pressed.

“No,” she replied, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Matt glanced down at his phone in Jane’s lap. “Come on,” he said, seeing the time, “We shouldn’t keep Will waiting.”

Will met them at the threshold to the entrance hall, wearing a leather jacket and black jeans.

“Matt,” he said, nodding at them as they approached, “Empath.”

“Teleporter,” Jane replied irritably. Will flushed and began stammering something that might have been an apology, but Jane ignored him.

“Don’t get mind controlled and die,” she told Matt, “I don’t want my badge smelling like corpse.”

Matt chuckled. “You look after yourself too,” he said, rolling his eyes. Jane made a face.

“Please,” she scoffed, “I’ll be fine. Go see your coma patient.”

“Go find your boyfriend.”

“I will. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah I guess he’s too old to call a boy, more of a man-friend.”

“Please leave,” she smirked.

“Take care,” Matt replied. And then, without really thinking, he hugged her. Jane stiffened – but then, after a moment, briefly squeezed back. The embrace quickly ended and the two broke apart. Then Matt nodded at Will and the pair set off, leaving Jane behind.

“So what’s going on exactly?” Will asked, as Morningstar grew smaller behind them, “Why’re we going to a prison? Who’s getting mind controlled? And since when does Jane have a boyfriend?”

“It’s a long story,” said Matt, glancing over his shoulder, “I’ll explain on the way.”

*****

Jane walked through the empty corridors, sneakers padding on the carpet. It occurred to her, as she strode around corners and down hallways, wordlessly searching, that this was the first time she’d actively sought out Captain Dawn and not the other way around. Strange as it was to think, she’d never been initiated contact. It would have been flattering, if it didn’t now make things difficult.

She had no idea where Dawn was. What he did with his time, where he went in Morningstar, whether he was even here at all. She knew he had chambers, an office of sorts, on the highest floor – but that was his sanctuary, strictly off-limits to everyone. She couldn’t go barging in there, kicking down the door, or so she told herself. It was a lame excuse to forestall facing an uncomfortable reality; that the conversation she was about to have with Dawn was going to be bad. Either he knew about the deaths and he’d be furious at her for getting involved, or he didn’t, and Jane would be telling him that everyone he ever knew was dead. Either way they were forcing him to go public, shining a spotlight directly onto his private pain. For a man like Captain Dawn, there’d be almost nothing worse. It may have been the right choice, the only choice – but still, she hesitated. On top of all the reasons she was about to give the Captain to hate her, Jane couldn’t bring herself to add the violation of his innermost sanctum, not unless she was absolutely, positively, one hundred percent sure she couldn’t avoid it. So she resolved to check every room, every passage in Morningstar, on the sliver of a chance Dawn was wandering the halls.

Slim though it was.

*

The blue-eyed boy moved without sound. His feet bare on the carpet, treading only where he knew would make no noise. It was a matter of timing. Too soon and too obvious, too late and unheard. But the child was patient. All it took was refinement.

Tucked into the doorway, shielded from view, he rang a bell.

*

Jane’s head snapped back.

What the hell was that? Three steps down a new corridor, having just turned a corner, for a split second she could have sworn she’d heard something. A bell ringing. But that was ridiculous, there hadn’t been, she hadn’t seen… She backtracked until her head peered around the T-junction, glancing down in the direction she thought the noise had come from, the direction she’d chosen on a whim not to follow. The corridor was deserted, the same as when she’d been walking towards it. Still, Jane frowned. She could have sworn she’d heard something.

“Hello?” she called, her voice at once demanding, curious and hostile. No answer. Jane’s frown deepened. Maybe it was just her imagination, maybe she was going crazy. Unless – well, there was a door halfway down. Maybe somebody was in there. Messing with her. Some idiot’s idea of a game.

Jane abandoned her left turn and headed straight down the hallway, pausing with mild irritation at the closed door. She turned the handle and pushed the door open – stepping through into a large, sunlit room, lined with bookshelves and scattered through with pillows and incense, in the midst of which sat a large, leathery man.

“Um, hello?” Jane repeated, taking in the man’s black clothes, bald head, and dream-like expression. The man’s eyes flicked open.

“Hello,” he smiled. His voice was deep and calm and not at all like what Jane had imagined.

“Sorry,” she muttered, not seeing any bell, “Thought I heard something. Forget it. Looking for someone.”

“You found someone,” smiled the man. His legs were crossed in a way that looked both flexible and uncomfortable. A small line of incense burnt beside him.

“Well, I’m looking for a different someone,” Jane replied, trying not to let her impatience show. She was intruding, and he was one of the Ashes, judging by his clothes. But the man seemed not in the least bit fazed by either her interruption or her rudeness.

“You have the most interesting mark on your cheek,” he mused, then asked sincerely, “Is it a letter ‘E’, or the number ‘3’?”

“Um,” replied Jane, taken aback. Surely he wasn’t serious. “It’s a, um, it’s an ‘E’. Definitely an ‘E’.” She paused, frowning. “Isn’t that obvious?”

The large man gave a small shrug. “To an observer, it appears one way, but to your own eyes, which will only ever glimpse a reflection, it is another. The truth of its form is yours to determine.”

Months of conversations with Matt she’d half been paying attention to came crashing down in the sudden realisation of who this man was.

“You’re Selwyn,” she stated. Selwyn smiled.

“That is what they call me. What guides your feet, young, beautiful woman?” he asked, gazing up at her warmly. “Do I play a part?” Jane peered down at him.

“No…” she answered slowly, unnerved by his general niceness, “No, thank you. You can’t help me, I’m-” Suddenly, a thought struck her. “Actually,” she amended, hurriedly unwinding her distrust, “Hold on, you’re a projectionist. Can you find Captain Dawn?”

For the first time since she’d entered, a small frown passed over the man’s face. “What for?”

“I need to find him,” Jane said hurriedly, “To pass on a message. It’s my destiny,” she added, thinking fast, “The clairvoyant told me.”

The moment she mentioned Matt, Selwyn’s face split into a huge smile. “I will traverse the halls,” he assured her happily, and closed his eyes. Jane couldn’t believe her luck.

Ten seconds had barely passed before Selwyn’s eyelids fluttered open. “He is in the East Wing,” the large man informed her, humming in his deep, kind voice, “Second floor. A passageway running above a room of mirrors, seldom used, where one can observe the goings on below.”

Jane knew exactly where he meant. “Thank you!” she called, already racing out the room.