Sophie Foster was going home.

She was amazed Silveny had even let them get close enough to attach the reins. Clearly she needed to teach the glittering horse how to recognize pure evil.

She wasn’t the Black Swan’s puppet anymore.
She was broken.
All she had left was trust.

Fitz? What kind of name was Fitz?

He turned away and his hands grabbed something. A tiny purple Albertosaurus, and the note she’d given him with it. If she could’ve felt her chest, her heart would’ve skipped a beat.

Any idea what the pattern is?” Dex asked
“I’m not sure.” Something felt familiar, a shadow of an idea, not formed enough to make sense. She poured through her memories, scrounging for the clue she was missing. The pieces clicked. “Elementine.”
“What’s the pattern?”
“I don’t know, but I know Elementine is right.