“You’ve lost what little mind you had left,” Diana said.

They were in the dining hall. No one was dining. Meals at Coates amounted to a few cans put out for kids to fight over. There were kids who had eaten boiled grass to ease the hunger pangs.

In the echoing, abandoned, damaged dining hall it was Caine, Drake, Bug, Diana, and the girl who said her name was Orsay.

The girl was maybe twelve, Diana figured.

Diana had noticed a look in the girl’s eyes. Fear, of course, she’d been hauled in by Drake once Bug got back from the power plant. But that wasn’t all of it: the girl, Orsay, looked at Diana like she recognized her.

It was not a good look. Her expression made the hairs on the back of Diana’s neck tingle.

“I never saw her before in my life, but I saw her in this dream I was having.” Drake glared hatred at the girl. “Then I woke up and found her skulking around, hiding.”

It was an unusual feeling for Diana, being in a room with Drake where she was not the main object of his hatred.

Caine said, “Okay, Drake, we get it. Back before all this started I’d have said you were nuts. Now?” He waved a languid hand at Diana. “Diana, read her. Let’s see.”

Diana went and stood beside the girl, who looked up at her with frightened, protruding eyes.

“Don’t be scared. Of me,” Diana said. “I just need to hold your hand.”

“What’s happened? Why won’t anybody tell me anything? Where are all the adults? Where are your teachers?” Orsay had a voice with a built-in tremble to it, like she’d always been nervous and always would be.

“We call it the FAYZ. Fallout Alley Youth Zone,” Diana said. “You know about the accident at the power plant back in the day, right? Fallout Alley?”

“Hey, Caine told you to read her, not give her a history lesson,” Drake snapped.

Diana wanted to argue, but Orsay’s expression, her look of terror mixed with pity for Diana, was weirding her out. It was as if Orsay knew something about Diana, like she was a doctor with a fatal diagnosis she hadn’t quite nerved herself up to deliver yet. Diana took Orsay’s hand.

As soon as she took Orsay’s hand she knew her power level. The question was whether she should tell Caine the truth. In Caine’s universe there were only two possible categories of mutants: those who were unquestioningly loyal to Caine, and those who needed to be disposed of.

At least Orsay wasn’t a four bar. If she had been, there was little doubt in Diana’s mind that Caine would have turned her over to Drake.

“Quit stalling,” Drake growled.

Diana released the girl’s hand. She ignored Drake and spoke to Caine. “She’s a three bar.”

Caine sucked air and sat back in his chair. He considered the terrified girl. “Tell me about your power. Tell me the truth, all of it, and you’ll be fine. If you lie to me, I’ll know I can never trust you.”

Orsay looked up at Diana as though she might be a friend. “Do what he says,” Diana said.

Orsay twined her fingers together. She sat with her knees knocked, her shoulders pressed in as though she were trying to get them to meet.

“It started happening, like, maybe five months ago. Mostly at night. I thought I was crazy. I didn’t know where it was coming from. My head would be filled up with these pictures and sometimes sounds, people talking, flashes of faces or places. Sometimes they were really short, just a few seconds. But sometimes they went on for a half hour, one thing after another, craziness, people being chased, people falling, people having . . . you know, like, sex and all.”

She looked down at her twisting fingers, embarrassed.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re all sweet and innocent,” Drake sneered.

Diana asked, “How did you figure out you were seeing people’s dreams?”

“It usually only happened at night,” Orsay said. “And then, one night I had this really vivid dream of this woman’s face, this kind of nice, red-haired woman, right? But she wasn’t even around, yet. She arrived the next morning. I hadn’t seen her before, not in reality, just in her husband’s dream. That’s when I figured it out.”

“So you’ve been up in the forest this whole time? You must have been lonely.” Caine was applying a bit of his smile, a fraction of his charm, putting her at ease.

Orsay nodded. “I’m used to being lonely.”

“How are you at keeping secrets?” Diana asked. She made her voice casual, but she stared hard into Orsay’s eyes, hoping she would get the message, hoping she knew how great a danger she was in.

Orsay blinked. She was about to say something, then blinked again. “I never told anyone anything I saw,” Orsay said.

Caine said, “Interesting question, Diana.”

Diana shrugged. “A good spy needs to be discreet.”

When Caine looked blank, Diana added quickly, “I mean, I assume that’s what you’re thinking. We have Bug, who can sneak into a place, maybe overhear some conversation. But Orsay could actually get into people’s dreams.” When Caine’s expression remained skeptical, Diana added, “I wonder what Sam dreams about.”

“No way,” Drake said. “No way. You heard her, she gets anyone’s dreams who happens to be nearby. That means she’s in our heads, too. No way.”

“I doubt she wants any part of your dreams, Drake,” Diana said.

Drake uncoiled his arm and lightning quick wrapped it around Orsay, who yelped and froze stiff. “I brought her in. She’s mine. I say what happens to her.”