Rue’s POV

Night was just encroaching, and the evening chill had already started getting under my skin. I entered the house, into the guest room where I had heard Iris’ voice.

Inside, Iris was sprawled on her stomach, legs swinging lazily, crayons scattered everywhere in an haphazard manner. Percy sat cross-legged beside her, the picture of a patient employee—though the furrow between his brows told me he was quickly running out of it.

“It’s orange,” Percy declared with finality, ...