Lodestar Page 101
“Why would it be?” Fitz asked. “It’s not a test.”
“Your brother is correct,” Sandor told her. “The summit is a negotiation. And the best negotiators do their homework ahead of time. I’m sure everyone is determining their allies.”
“Anyone else stunned the ogres are still going through with the summit?” Dex asked. “I mean . . . they have to know everyone is going to side against them.”
“King Dimitar has no choice,” Grizel said, and Sophie noticed she was standing a little closer to Sandor than she truly needed to. “He’s claiming innocence in the attack, insisting it was done by a band of rebels. He even sent Queen Hylda a letter offering his condolences. But he knows no one will believe him if he’s not also working closely with the Council toward ‘achieving a peaceful resolution.’ ”
She put the last words in air quotes, almost like she no longer believed they were a possibility. But Sophie was clinging hard to the last shreds of her hope.
Sure, part of her wanted to march into Ravagog and stomp the ogres into the ground for what they’d done to her family. But another part kept thinking about the eerie golden bodies in the Hall of Heroes.
How many more goblins would have to be aurified if the elves and ogres went to war?
How many new trees would be added to the Wanderling Woods?
If there was any chance they could solve this without further violence, they had to try for it.
“So what kinds of things are on Queen Hylda’s list?” Dex asked.
“Exactly what you’d expect,” Sophie whispered. “She wants the ogres to turn over all their weapons and agree to stop any sort of offensive—or defensive—training, wants them to surrender the borderlands they share with the goblins, and wants King Dimitar to turn over the ogre who killed Brielle. There were a bunch of things that had to do with the previous treaty too. But I didn’t understand a lot of that, so I gave copies to Mr. Forkle and Oralie to see if they can help me.”
“Are you going to support her list?” Biana asked.
Sophie shrugged.
She understood why Queen Hylda was drawing such a hard line. But she kept thinking about what Lady Cadence had tried to tell her, about how the new treaty would destroy fundamental aspects of the ogres’ culture. She had zero sympathy for King Dimitar, but she knew thousands and thousands of innocent ogres would be affected—including the children she’d seen running around during her time in Ravagog.
“Let’s just say I’m glad I still have some time to decide,” she mumbled, wishing it were longer. The Council was sticking with their scheduled date, so she only had about a week and a half left. “I swear, this whole thing is way more involved than I realized. Did you guys know that summits last multiple days? I got this, like, packet saying Edaline and I will have our own room in the castle, and luggage isn’t allowed, so we both had to send the Council our measurements and they’ll provide several changes of clothes.”
“Ohhhh,” Biana breathed. “I bet they’ll make you the most gorgeous dresses! Will you get to keep them?”
“If I do, they’re yours,” Sophie promised.
“And here I thought you guys would be discussing important stuff,” Marella said, rolling her bright blue eyes as she shoved her petite frame into the center of their group. “But apparently we’re standing in a suspicious-looking circle surrounded by goblins so we can discuss clothes?”
“Does this mean you’re talking to us again?” Biana asked.
“It means I’m talking to you today,” Marella corrected. “And only because I realized you guys were never going to leave me alone until you got what you wanted. So”—she checked over her shoulder and lowered her voice—“since my mom was actually having a pretty good day yesterday, I thought, Fine, I’ll ask her about Cyrah and prove she doesn’t know anything. Only . . .” Her eyes dropped to her feet, kicking at her scuffed shoes. “I guess she does remember something.”
“And that something is?” Dex prompted.
Marella twisted one of her braids around her finger. “I’ll tell you what I know if you do something for me.”
“You know that’s blackmail, right?” Fitz asked. “Or maybe it’s extortion? Either way, it’s super shady.”
Marella shrugged, unconcerned.
“Why don’t we find out what she wants before we get mad?” Biana suggested.
“Clearly you’re the smart Vacker,” Marella said. “And what I want shouldn’t be a big deal. I just want to meet with this mysterious Mr. Forkle guy you’re always talking about.”
“Why?” Sophie asked.
“That’s between him and me.”
“Not if you want me to set up a meeting,” Sophie argued. “He’ll never agree without knowing the reason.”
Marella sighed, twisting her braid tighter. “He’s the one who triggered all of your abilities, right?”
“Most of them,” Sophie corrected—and she had a sinking suspicion she knew where Marella was going with this.
Marella confirmed it a second later when she crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. “Then I want him to trigger mine.”
SIXTY-THREE
THIS IS NOT how this process works,” Mr. Forkle told Marella as he closed the door to Alden’s circular office. He’d chosen Everglen as a meeting point, since Havenfield felt too vulnerable, and the Vackers had been generous enough to offer their home.
He’d also made Marella wait a day for the meeting, since he’d had a number of appointments forcing him to stay in Magnate Leto mode the day before. And the delay seemed to have made Marella fidgety.
Or maybe it was the hard look in Mr. Forkle’s eyes as he told her, “And I don’t simply mean that triggering abilities this way is unnatural. Important information about a possible murder should never be a bargaining chip.”
“I know,” Marella mumbled, sinking into one of the plush armchairs that faced the room’s floor-to-ceiling aquarium. Dex, Fitz, Biana, and Sophie leaned against the windowed wall behind her, while Sandor, Woltzer, Grizel, and Lovise waited outside to give them more space. “But I’ve tried everything else,” she whispered. “And I knew you’d triggered Sophie’s abilities—”