Pepper Brightwood stood at the edge of the training meadow and counted heads twice. Eight spots stayed empty. Her best campers were gone, and a folded note sat in the dirt where they used to line up. She picked it up with steady hands. The regional games were close, and she still meant to win them the right way. But first she had to find her kids. Pepper read the name signed at the bottom and felt the ground tilt. Zoey Jadeburst had taken them. Pepper followed the trail to a dark stone keep with iron gates. Lanterns burned in the windows. Stuck to the walls were missing posters of a small girl, dozens of them, edges curling. A spinning gold yo-yo hung in the air above the gate, throwing slow rings of light across the grass. Anyone who stepped close slowed, then stopped, eyes glazed. Pepper knelt outside the light's reach. Through a low window she counted her eight campers, sitting quiet, untouched but trapped. A white fox in pink shades lounged on a float by the moat, sipping boba, watching the gate like a bored guard. Pepper's chest tightened. Drilling them out would take force. Force was the rival camp's way, not hers. She pressed her palm to the cold stone and made her choice. She would not storm the gate today. She would go home, gather the campers she had left, and find a way in that did not break them to win them. Pepper turned back toward Foreversprite. The note crumpled in her fist. The games were coming, and now so was she.