The party was being held in the main room on the first floor. Half the space had been filled by round tables arranged by the rental company our wealthy alumnae had hired. One of the Montclare boys was playing DJ at the other end in front of a dance area.

When the decorations went up, this place was going to look unbelievable. At least, if you were at the dance with a date and were into that kind of romantic stuff. Me? I’d been dumped by someone who didn’t even have the guts to tell me I’d been dumped.

I wasn’t sure whether to be sad or angry. I opted for angry. It felt a lot better.

We spent an hour hanging up garland and black glittery decorations, although the rental company had done most of the hard work. They put huge black candelabra on the tables and hung a banner that read ST. SOPHIA’S SNEAK from one of the balconies. The stuff we’d made definitely added a cool “graveyard” vibe, but the alumnae had already gone all out.

When the decorations were done, we headed off to a couple of conference rooms to get ready. I wasn’t thrilled about changing clothes in front of everyone else, but everyone was so worried about their own hair and makeup that they hardly noticed anyone else was in the room.

Scout’s parents may be self-centered, but they knew how to pick out a dress. Luckily, we were about the same size so it fit like a glove. I paired it with some black heels, and Scout helped me pin my hair into a messy updo with lots of twisty tendrils falling around. Add some eyeliner, and I was done.

Scout surprised me, too. When she unzipped her own dress bag, I just about fell over. Inside it was a really simple, but totally beautiful, black dress. It was a sleeveless sheath that fell just below her knees, and had a heart-shaped neckline that was totally flattering. She wore bright yellow heels and some chunky jewelry, and put enough product in her hair that it did the porcupine/pincushion thing.

“You look like a Goth princess,” I told her.

“Oh, my God, I was going to say the same thing to you. You know, cheesy as this party is, we should totally get a picture of ourselves. Who knows when we’ll have time to dress up again?”

“So true,” I said, and pulled out my cell phone for a picture. I was playing with the dials to figure out how to get the flash to work, when genius struck me.

I froze, then looked at Scout.

“What?” Scout said, eyes wild. “Is there a Reaper in here?”

“I know how we can find out where Fayden is.”

She smiled a little, and nodded. “I knew that dress was going to work for you, Parker, I just knew it.”

Dressed in our party finest, we popped back into the hallway, and I dialed up Sebastian. My nerves were already taut, and the fact that he didn’t answer until the fifth ring didn’t exactly help.

“Lily?”

“Camera!” I exclaimed. “Fayden had that big camera around her neck. When you gave her the tour of the city, did she take pictures of anything in particular?”

“As a matter of fact, I kept making fun of her because she had that huge camera but didn’t take pictures of anything until . . .”

“Until what?” I asked, my heart beginning to race as we got closer to our answer.

“The old pumping station on Michigan Avenue—it’s not far from the Hancock building. It used to have all these pipes inside, but I’m not sure what’s in there now. It’s all boarded up for remodeling or something.”

“And she took pictures of it?” I asked.

“Yeah, and we had to be careful because there were No Trespassing signs all over the place. I guess they want to turn it into some kind of museum, but the money hasn’t come through.”

“So she took a bunch of pictures of an empty industrial building,” I summed up. “That doesn’t sound at all suspicious. Thanks, Sebastian.”

“Sure. If you find anything out, will you let me know?”

“Of course,” I said, not entirely sure whether I meant it or not. I hung up the phone and looked at Scout. “I think there’s a pretty good chance we know where Fayden Campbell is.” I explained what Sebastian had said.

“I need to look at the pumping station,” she agreed. “That’s the only way I’m going to make any progress on the spell.”

I checked the time. “The dance starts in, like, an hour. Maybe we should wait for Michael.”

“So Fayden can run away from us again? No, thanks.” She pulled out her own phone. “I’m just going to have him meet us at the Enclave—and everyone else. God willing, I’ll figure something out and we can get the spell working tonight.”

“Fine,” I said, putting my phone away again. “Let’s go see the evil Reaper headquarters.”

Scout jumped around and clapped her hands like I’d given her a unicorn for her birthday.

We headed for the museum’s front door, but didn’t make it very far.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

We glanced back at Mary Katherine, who stood behind us in a slinky gold dress that left very little to the imagination. Veronica and Amie stood behind her, also dressed for the dance. Their gowns were longer and more princessy than M.K.’s.

“We were just going to get some fresh air. Stuffy in here in all this makeup,” Scout said, fanning her face.

“We haven’t seen you around lately,” M.K. said to me.

“We’ve been working in our rooms. You know, ’cause we’re uncool and we never leave them.” The words sounded corny, but what else was I supposed to say? We have a magical prodigy to go spy on?