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Blaze struggled hard to keep a straight face. Without turning away from Mean Girl, he cut off the kids' enthusiastic retelling. "Those stories get kinda exaggerated. Why did you call the missing kids losers?"

Mean Girl shrugged, backing up a step in grudging respect. "'Cause they were. Charity cases. Kids on scholarships. Stuff like that."

"I see. Did anyone ever hear them talk about anything they were afraid of? Or maybe they were miserable here?"

"We didn't talk much to those kids. Sure didn't have any sappy heart-to-heart chats."

This was getting him nowhere except to verify what he already knew about the Academies. "Vari kids are disappearing. You never know when it might not just belosers."

He stalked off, and as he hoped, he soon heard footsteps behind him.

"Mister?" The dark-haired boy stood behind him.

"What, kid?"

The boy shifted, staring at the file in Blaze's hand. "The third pic. Tara. She… Andrea's a bitch sometimes. Not all those kids are losers. A lot of us liked Tara. She was cool."

"Yeah? Was she happy at school?"

The kid nodded. "Mostly. She was real smart and stuff. I mean, her gift was one of those weird ones. She talked to plants. So she'd probably never make Guild, right? But she was really nice."

"You see her before she disappeared?"

"The night before." The kid rubbed his arm like he was cold. "She didn't say much at dinner. I dunno. Maybe she was scared or something and didn't tell us. You think she's dead?"

"Don't know yet." Blaze pointed a still-flaming finger at the kid. "You watch out for each other. All of you. And stop treating the poor kids like crap."

The kid looked like he wanted to protest, but Blaze didn't want to hear the bullshit. He turned his back and got in the car where Damien waited. His eyes were open but he looked like hell, gray and exhausted.

"You sure you're okay? You don't need a hospital?"

"Drive, Blaze. Please. Just drive."

The voice barely reached him, dry leaves over grass, but Blaze got the message and started back toward the gate, head cocked to listen for that barely there voice. A game of Hot and Cold, Damien had said. Apparently, the game had begun.

"Left," Damien whispered when they reached the road. When they got to the old highway out of town, it was, "Right."

"Do you know where we're going?"

"East."

"I am never using a map you drew."

"Hmm."

At least he had a direction and took it, heading out toward Sacramento. For an hour, he drove without Damien making any course corrections. He had to check more than once to be sure his charge was still awake. Yes, still staring in weary, gray concentration out the window.

"Think you could eat something?"

Damien shrugged.

"We're stopping. Looks like you're gonna fade out on me. What could you stomach?"

Damien sat up a bit, apparently interested in the mention of food. "There. They have dandanmian."

"Dan who?"

"Dan dan noodles."