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are.”
    â€œSorry,” I said, sitting down on the edge of my bed, tucking my legs beneath me. “What’s wrong? Anything happen last night?”
    Bee blew out a long breath, and I could practically see her sitting in her own room, blond hair a mess around her head. Bee always had the worst case of bedhead.
    â€œNo, but I didn’t sleep because I was so paranoid that girl might come back.”
    â€œSame,” I told her on a sigh.
    There was a long pause on her end of the phone, and then she said, almost tentatively, “You were right. About David, about us helping him and screwing everything up.”
    My fingers tightened around the phone. “You were doing what you thought was best,” I said, but the words were a little rote—I’d said them before, after all—and she knew it.
    â€œStill,” she said. “Ryan and I . . . Look, Harper, whatever you need us to do, we’ll do it.”
    I glanced at the clock. It was just a little past nine a.m., but I was hoping that would mean most everyone in David’s neighborhood was at work already.
    â€œThen meet me back at David’s in an hour.”

Chapter 6
    â€œR EMIND ME again what we’re actually looking for,” Bee said. She sat cross-legged on the floor of David’s room, her braid brushing the pages of the book she held in her lap.
    Sighing, I picked a book out of the stack in front of me. The title on the spine was barely legible, the gold leaf all but rubbed away from hundreds of hands over dozens of years, but since none of the other books seemed like what I was looking for—they all seemed too new—I figured I was better off starting with that one. We’d been here for nearly an hour already, and nothing was jumping out at me. Luckily, I’d been right about the neighborhood being fairly deserted, and we’d slipped in with no trouble—no one had bothered covering up the hole I’d made by the door—but I didn’t want to press my luck.
    â€œAnything that looks like a locating spell, or something that mentions finding an Oracle. How to track one.”
    â€œOracle GPS,” Ryan muttered to himself, and I gave him a little smile.
    â€œSomething like that.”
    David’s bedroom was dim, and even though he’d only beengone for a few weeks, it was already starting to have that musty, unused smell of locked-up rooms. Other than the books, everything was mostly in order, the bed made up, the desk clear, and looking at all of it, I could almost believe David would be back any minute now. He’d hardly taken anything with him, and I wondered for about the millionth time how he was getting by. Saylor had had plenty of money, but I wasn’t sure how David could’ve gotten his hands on any of it. Plus he wouldn’t be able to get motel rooms. Was he sleeping in his car, or camping out in the woods somewhere?
    Dire as everything was, that idea made me smile. David Stark, camping? I’d pay good money to see that. We’d taken a field trip to the nearby Boy Scout campgrounds in the sixth grade, and when they’d asked us to put up a tent, David had been hopeless. I still had a clear memory of him as a moving lump underneath a green nylon tarp, trying to get his poles stuck in the ground.
    â€œYou okay?”
    I glanced up to see Bee watching me as she closed the book in her lap. “You had a weird look on your face,” she added, and I shook my head slightly, turning back to the book in front of me.
    â€œYeah, I’m good. Just . . . thinking.”
    Bee’s eyes dropped a little lower, and I knew she was looking at the cut below my jaw. I touched it self-consciously. The cut had scabbed over in the night, and I was hoping that meant some of my super-healing powers were firing up again.
    I kept my focus on the books in front of me for nearly an hour but was starting to lose faith. Saylor had had a ton of