“That’s still up for debate. But he can prove it now.” Brant’s scarred lips curled into what little smile they were able to form as he moved his flame-fingers closer to Keefe’s throat. With his real hand, he reached into his cape and withdrew the Ruewen crest pin he’d stolen from Sophie months and months ago. “I think I’ve held on to the past long enough, don’t you?”

Sophie knew what was coming, even before Brant shoved Keefe toward her and held the small eagle pin in the searing white flame. The jewels crusting it sparked and crackled, and the pin turned into a red-hot brand.

But he pressed it into Keefe’s palm, instead of hers.

Keefe thrashed and screamed, eyes watering, teeth gritted in agony.

“Now,” Brant told Keefe, pulling the pin away. “Show her that same pain. And in case you’re having trouble following along, Sophie, here’s how this is going to work. You tell us where you’re keeping Wylie, and I’ll have lover boy here put the scars somewhere only you can see them. Try to resist, and he’ll give you the same makeover you gave me. And if you fight me,” he told Keefe, “I’ll melt off parts of your body one by one. Starting with your fingers.”

Desperation screamed through Sophie’s head as her brain scrambled for a plan.

Somewhere through the chaos she realized there was another voice in the mix.

Sophie, can you hear me?

Fitz?

His thoughts were muffled and staticky, but she was stunned he could reach her at all.

Tam’s breaking down the force field with darkness, he explained, and he says he’ll be able to slip his shadow through the cracks and cloud Brant’s mind. It’ll blind him for a few seconds. Will that be long enough for you to drop him with your inflicting before he burns Keefe?

It probably would—but only if she was willing to drop all of them.

Keefe’s too close to Brant, she warned. I’ll have to take out everyone.

I don’t see any other option, do you?

She glanced at the flames under Keefe’s nose, and the oozing blister on his hand.

Tell Tam to do it! she transmitted as she reached deep inside, gathering every last emotion and fueling them with any dark thoughts she’d ever had.

Brant flinched, dropping his flames, and Sophie took Tam’s cue, letting the cold waves pour out of her, their jagged edges tearing across everything within reach.

Seconds stretched into eternity and reality vanished into pure, pulsing power—and rage.

So.

Much.

Rage.

She wanted to bathe in it, drown in it, let the anger take control until she’d punished anyone and everyone who’d ever hurt her. But she’d held on to one thread of good through the barrage—one wisp of a thought that tethered her to who she needed to be.

Keefe.

The name peeled back the dark curtain and let in a blistering, blinding rush as she dropped to her knees, her hands feeling for shaking limbs across the cold stones. She found him right as her eyes shifted back into focus, and she pulled him into her lap.

If you can hear me, Keefe, try to fight through the darkness, she transmitted. The pain’s not real. Shove it aside and come back to the surface.

“Tam broke the force field,” Fitz said behind her, making her jump. “And he’s stamping out Brant’s flames. The stones are damp, so the only thing that caught was his cloak. How can I help?”

“Find something to restrain the Neverseen. When this wears off . . .”

“On it,” Fitz said.

He turned to leave—then pivoted back. “Stop looking so guilty, Sophie. You did this to save him. Like he said, sometimes things have to get worse before they get better.”

She focused on a happier promise. “It’s almost over.”

And it was, wasn’t it?

This was a huge victory.

In one afternoon, they’d caught Alvar, Ruy, and Brant—three of the most prominent players in the Neverseen. And now that they knew how to use the gadget and the symbol, they had a way to track down sixteen hideouts.

And they had Keefe.

She craned her neck to watch Tam and Fitz work—stripping each shaking figure of their cloak and shredding the fabric into makeshift rope to bind their hands and feet and cover their mouths and eyes.

“We need to get out of here,” Tam said. “Some of their buddies will probably wonder what’s taking so long. And these guys could wake up any minute.”

Fitz punched his brother in the face. “That should keep him knocked out longer.”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about,” Tam told him. “If that Psionipath wakes up, he’ll trap us in two seconds.”

Fitz sighed and left Alvar in a bound heap so he could pull Ruy into a choke hold.

Tam held Brant the same way. “I’m keeping his mind clouded with shadow so he can’t start any more fires. But I’ll feel a lot better when he’s locked up in a fireproof cell.”

“Me too,” Sophie said. “But I don’t think it’s safe to leap Keefe until he’s out of the daze.”

“Leap . . . where?” Keefe grunted between labored breaths.

Sophie hugged him tighter. “I’m so sorry—I couldn’t take them down without hurting you.”

He grit his teeth into a pained smile. “Admit it . . . Foster . . . you’re enjoying this . . . a little.”

“Never.” She rubbed her eyes with her gloved fingers, trying to fight back sobs.

“It’s not that bad,” he promised, and when she met his eyes, she could see the haze of pain slowly fading.

It crashed right back when he tried to uncurl his blistered, blackened hand. The metal pin seemed to have fused with his skin. “Remind me to kick Brant in the junk a few times once he’s awake.”

“Only if I get a turn,” she said. “Physic has lots of burn salve at Alluveterre. I’m sure she’ll get you fixed up.”

“Physic?” Keefe asked. “Why not Elwin?”

“Tam’s the only one who has a leaping crystal with him, and he’s been living at the hideout. We kinda came here by accident—it’s a long story. I’ll tell you once we’re back in the Lost Cities.”

“He has a crystal to Alluveterre?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Keefe closed his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is it hurting.”