“Time zone?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“It’s an hour earlier in Vail.” Lydia was examining the blade of one of her daggers.

“We’re in a different time zone?” I gaped. “Where are we?”

“At the Roving Academy.” Adne had come to stand in the center of our small group. “The heart and soul of all things Searcher.”

“The Roving Academy?” I asked. I’d never heard of such a place. The information I’d been given about the Searchers made it sound like they squatted in hovels around the globe, trying to muster enough force for guerrilla assaults.

“The Academy is our greatest asset.” Anika smiled. “It stores our knowledge and supplies us with food, crafts, and education. Most Searchers live here, except for those on assignment.”

“It’s called the Roving Academy because it moves out of necessity,” Monroe added. “We don’t stay in any location for more than six months to avoid detection. If the Keepers ever brought the war to us, it could mean the end of our resistance.”

I hadn’t seen much of this Academy, but I’d seen enough to know it was huge.

“How can you move a building?”

“Yeah.” Shay turned in a slow circle, gazing at the high ceiling of the room. “I’ve been wondering about that too.”

Adne winked at him. “If you’re still interested in three months, I’ll give you a front-row seat.”

“Never mind.” I scowled. “Where are we now?”

“Iowa,” Anika said.

I frowned. “Why would you put it in Iowa?”

“Exactly.” Connor gave me a mockingly solemn nod.

Adne sighed. “It moves all over the world. Now it’s in Iowa. Next up is Italy.”

A globe was spinning in my mind’s eye. How had I gotten here?

“We don’t have time for lessons right now.” Anika gestured to Adne. “That comes later.”

“Good point. Adne, just open the door,” Connor said. “I’ve never been good at anticipation; it makes me blotch.”

“That might improve your looks,” Silas muttered. He picked up a folded set of papers from the pile. How he’d identified them amid the clutter was a complete mystery.

“Here’s the next dispatch for Grant.” He sent the stack sailing toward Connor like a Frisbee. “Try not to lose it.”

Connor snatched the letter out of the air. “Thanks.”

“What’s going on?” I looked at Shay, making no sense of the strange conversation.

“Ariadne is a portal weaver,” Monroe said. “It’s the most important assignment a Searcher can take on.”

The most importantassignment. I eyed Adne and could have sworn she wasn’t any older than Ansel. “She’s leading our mission?”

“Not leading,” Monroe said. “Just weaving.”

“Isn’t she a little . . . young?” I had no idea what weaving was, but if it was vital to our mission, I wanted someone with a little experience in charge of it.

“Like I said before.” Connor patted Adne on the head. “Our little honey exceeds expectations.”

“Just let me work,” Adne muttered, jerking away from Connor’s hand.

I started toward Adne, wanting to make sure she was actually as exceptional as everyone claimed.

Shay took my arm, pulling me back several steps. “I think it’s better seen than explained.”

Adne took the slender metal spikes from her belt.

“What are those?” I asked, tensing in case they were weapons after all.

She arched an eyebrow at me, taking in my defensive stance. “Skeans—the Weavers’ tools. You’ll see what they do.”

She drew a breath as she closed her eyes. Then she began to move. The skeans slashed the air; each swift stroke left a blazing trail of light in its wake, and a bell-like note hung around us. Adne’s body moved rapidly in a mad dance. She dipped to the floor and flung her limbs toward the ceiling, guiding the skeans in motions that resembled a crazed form of rhythmic gymnastics. The gleaming threads that bloomed from her skeans began to layer upon each other. The sounds that filled the ear created a rippling chorus of chiming notes. Her arms wove through the air as though the skeans were dipping in and out of a giant invisible loom. The intricate pattern of light blazed brighter until I had to pull my eyes away from the glare. Waves of sound poured through the room until I thought I might drown in an ocean of music and light.

All at once it stopped.

“Look,” Shay whispered.

I turned back to Adne. She stood, breathless, in front of a giant shimmering rectangle. It hung in the air, a tapestry of light suspended and glowing. My breath caught in my throat as I moved closer. The undulating rectangle held an image: the inside of a warehouse. Stacks of crates filled the dimly lit room.

“Is that where we’re going?” I murmured.

Adne nodded, still trying to catch her breath.

“Nice weaving.” Connor patted her on the shoulder.

“No problem.” She smiled, wiping sweat from her brow.

“So what do we do now?” I stared at the gleaming scene.

“It’s a door,” Adne said. “You walk through it.”

I eyed the tall portal of light. “Does it hurt?”

“It kind of tickles,” Connor said, mocking solemnity.