The winding tunnels of the Black Swan hideout are located in an underground mine, courtesy of the dwarves. There are gemstones embedded in the walls that sparkle and catch Sophie's eye, but she doesn't feel like stopping to admire them.

"How many?"

"Sophie—"

She slams her hands on the table. "How many, Sandor?"

The goblin regards her with surprise, and Sophie feels a twinge of guilt. She can't recall a time she's ever raised her voice at him—or vice versa—despite their shared stubbornness. But the conference room is small and stuffy, and it's been over an hour since she called for the Collective, and... everything was her fault.

"Please?" she repeats. "I need to know."

"I was there, little Moonlark." Sandor says, firmly but softly. "I am as responsible for any deaths as you are."

"Then why won't you tell me?"

He sighs, hesitating. "Four. Two dwarves, two gnomes."

Sophie closes her eyes and slumps back into her chair. It isn't as bad as she thought, but four losses on a mission that was supposed to be low risk is far from ideal.

"I need some air," she says abruptly, and gets up to leave.

Sandor sighs. "Get some rest. It's the middle of the night."

"The Collective—"

"—will call you when they're ready. I am your advisor. Let me advise you."

Sandor stares her down until she nods reluctantly. "I'll try. I'm sorry."

"Good. Now shoo."

Sophie lets her feet carry her through the corridors. Her head throbs from the lack of rest and her earlier inflicting, and it doesn't seem to be going away anytime soon.

She stops in front of a door and raises a hand to knock, but someone inside calls out "Come in!"

Sophie pokes her head into the room. "Hey. How'd you know I was here?"

Dex doesn't look up from his workbench, but he snorts. "I don't have to be an Empath to know that you're feeling really lousy right now."

She shuts the door and takes in her surroundings. The room looks somewhere between a mad scientist's lab and an arts and crafts studio after a tornado. A fuzzy tomple scurries across the floor. Other workbenches are piled high with unfinished projects and an assortment of mechanical parts.

The ceiling is tall enough that Sophie's sigh echoes throughout the cavern. "Does everyone know?"

"Are you kidding me?" someone else pipes up. Sophie turns to see a curly-haired girl lounging at the other end of the room. "It's not every day the Moonlark messes up a mission so bad. News spreads fast here."

"Stina," Dex warns. "People died. Go easy."

"I am," Stina groans. She wrinkles her nose and reaches for the cut on Sophie's jawline. "Geez. What happened to you?"

Sophie flinches away. "Just a cut. I forgot about that."

Dex pushes his welding goggles up on his head. His strawberry-blonde hair fluffs up and sticks out at odd angles. "Are you okay?"

"Leave it to the Moonlark to forget to look after herself." Stina just sighs and starts rummaging underneath a nearby workbench. "Have you even gone to Physic yet?"

She shakes her head in response. Stina procures a first aid kit and motions for her to sit. After the frantic lightleap back to the hideout and making sure everyone else was okay, Sophie's own injuries felt insignificant. "I honestly just forgot," she admits. "Where's Tinker?"

"Out," Dex replies. "Don't ask me where. But hey, check this out!"

He slips on a glove held together with pieces of metal and wire and flexes his fingers. The opaque stone on the palm of his hand glows and pops with blue sparks—then it fizzles out entirely.

"That'll scare the pants off Lodestar for sure," Stina deadpans, and Sophie can't help but giggle.

"It's a work in progress." Dex sighs as he slips the glove off and resumes tinkering with it.

"I heard you saw the other alicorn," Stina says to Sophie, her voice tense as she gently cleans the cut on Sophie's face. "Was she okay?"

"She looked... fine.," Sophie says. "She was carrying Lodestar."

The room goes quiet. Dex studies her carefully. "So it's true? He's back?"

Sophie pauses and swallows harshly. "Yeah."

Dex and Stina exchange a worried glance. "That's not good," Dex says.

"Understatement of the year." Stina plasters a band-aid on Sophie's chin before giving her a light but playful smack on the cheek. "There. Good as new."

"Thanks, Stina. Oh, and before I forget—" Sophie unbuckles her gear and slides it off. It's not exactly armor, but it's made of a material tough and flexible enough to fit over her normal outfits and also deflect fatal blows—including those from a sharp-edged sword. "I think I need a touch-up."

Dex runs his hand over the gash left in the material. "Geez. Any harder and he could've cut you in half."

Sophie smiles grimly. "And I'd be dead without it. Thank you, Dex."

"That's pretty impressive," Stina mutters. Dex brightens, and she scoffs. "Don't let it get to your head, Dizznee. I'm still mad at you for putting Gurgle Gut in my lushberry juice."

"You're the one who filled my locker with unicorn poop," Dex shot back. "My notebooks have been sparkly for weeks."

"Your bratty siblings stole my Prattles pins!"

"How is that my fault?!"

"Guys!" Sophie shouts. "I hate to interrupt, but I actually came here for a reason. Stina, can you help me call Greyfell?"

Stina crosses her arms. "Why should I?"

"Because right now you're the only one on base who knows how to work with an alicorn besides me."

Stina doesn't budge, and Sophie sighs. "I'll give you a Prattles pin."

"I want the sabertooth," Stina says immediately.

"Fine," Sophie says, and the other girl looks visibly pleased.

"Where are you even going so late at night?" Dex asks with a frown.

Before Sophie can answer him, the door bursts open.

"Sophie!" Sandor squeaks. "There you are. The Collective is ready." His gaze sweeps over Dex and Stina. "You two should come as well. Mr. Forkle wants everyone there."

The trio exchange curious glances before following Sandor out the door.