“Keep in mind that any comments you make about my love life give me permission to talk to you about boys,” Sandor interrupted. “I’d also appreciate your discretion. Now is not the time for such things to become known.”

“Done,” Sophie said, dropping the conversation. “I just want to see you happy. Especially after all the sacrifices you make for me. I’m sorry again for inflicting on you. Next time I’ll keep a tighter hold until I’m sure I’m fighting a threat.”

Sandor shook his head as he brought over her purple backpack. “How about instead we focus on making sure there isn’t a next time?”

SOPHIE HAD PLANNED TO CRY at Brielle’s funeral—or presentation—or whatever the goblins called it. She’d even stuffed several handkerchiefs into the pockets of her long golden gown. But sadness wasn’t the theme of the ceremony. It was about bestowing honor and celebrating Brielle’s accomplishments.

The Hall of Heroes itself was a massive acropolis-style structure lined with twisted golden columns and filled with golden statues that reminded Sophie of the terra-cotta warriors she’d seen in human encyclopedias—row upon row of gleaming goblins in heroic battle poses.

It seemed like a beautiful tribute, until they unveiled Brielle’s statue and Sophie realized the figure was a little too lifelike—every detail perfect, down to the very last curl.

“Is that her?” she whispered, fighting off a gag when Sandor nodded. Grady and Edaline didn’t look as horrified—but they’d definitely gone pale.

“Her body’s been aurified,” Sandor explained. “It’s a process the elves helped us perfect. It transmutes every cell to gold, leaving no flesh or blood behind. Only a powerful likeness to remember our soldiers by.” He frowned when he noticed Sophie was cringing. “Honestly, how is it that different from wrapping your DNA around a seed and letting the tree grow with some of your characteristics?”

When he put it like that, it didn’t sound as creepy. And it wasn’t Sophie’s place to judge another species’ culture anyway.

But she still wouldn’t have wanted to be alone in the Hall of Heroes at night—and she was pretty sure she was going to have a more than a few golden mummy nightmares.

She fought hard not to let any of her discomfort show on her face, since the queen had given their group seats on an elevated platform, in plain view of the entire audience.

“It was wise for you to attend,” Sandor told them when everyone stood to leave. “I can tell it meant a lot to my people to see that the elves care about the soldiers who protect them.”

“It did indeed,” a deep, throaty voice said behind them, and Sandor immediately dropped to one knee.

“Your Highness,” he mumbled. “I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s because I snuck up on you,” Queen Hylda said, tossing her intricately plaited hair. She smoothed the golden lapels of her military-style jacket as her gray eyes focused on Sophie, Grady, and Edaline. “Please, no need for such formalities,” she told them as they hurried to bow as well. “You are not my subjects.”

“We still owe you our respect,” Grady said as he straightened. “You and your warriors have been invaluable allies.”

“Well, the elves’ knowledge and innovation have been equally precious for our world,” Queen Hylda said. “I consider the whole arrangement to be a crucial partnership. Which is why I was hoping I might borrow young Miss Foster for a few minutes. The Council has informed me that she’ll be attending the Peace Summit. And if that’s the case, I have a favor to ask.”

SIXTY-TWO

YOU HAD A private audience with the goblin queen?” Biana asked, sharing a look with Dex that seemed to say, Why are we even surprised anymore?

“We didn’t talk for long,” Sophie mumbled, checking to make sure no one around them was eavesdropping. “Queen Hylda just wanted to ask me for a favor.”

Biana grinned. “Of course she did.”

Despite the attack on Sophie’s parents—which the Council had revealed to the public to honor Brielle’s sacrifice—Mr. Forkle had managed to convince Sandor to bring Sophie to her weekly skill lesson at Foxfire. The Coaches were ramping up the training now that people finally seemed scared enough to commit to it. And it made a difference—by the end of the lesson, almost half of Sophie’s Hemisphere had achieved the day’s skill and cracked small stress fissures in their stones.

Sophie had shattered hers completely.

The process had left her drained—but it was a good kind of exhaustion. Far better than the five restless days she’d spent pacing around Sandor’s house, brainstorming elaborate Rescue Keefe plans and then rejecting them for having too many Things That Would Get Everyone Killed. And her check-ins with Keefe now followed a repetitive pattern of her begging him to leave the Neverseen and him promising, “Soon.”

Hopefully, if her group of friends worked together, they’d be able to come up with something that had a chance of success. But getting them all in the same place was proving challenging—especially Tam and Linh. The twins had even skipped the skill lesson that day. Tam was using every spare second to search the Silver Tower, desperate to find whatever last piece they needed to make everything they’d learned about the symbol come together. And Linh had been nervous to leave Wylie alone.

Mr. Forkle had felt obligated to tell Wylie what they’d learned from Gethen about his mother’s death and starstones—though he left out any mention of Lady Gisela, deciding to wait until they had a better idea of precisely how she’d been involved. But hearing that his mom had likely helped the Neverseen had knocked Wylie to a new low. Granite had even brought Maruca and her mom back to see him, and all Wylie said during the visit was, “Is anyone who they say they are?”

“What kind of favor are you supposed to do for a goblin queen?” Fitz asked, dragging Sophie out of her dreary thoughts.

She waited for a group of nearby Right Hemispheres to wander away before she whispered, “She wants my support during the summit. She gave me a list of all the things she wants added to the new treaty, and asked me to decide which ones I’ll vote in favor of.”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Biana asked. “Colluding before the summit?”