I guess I can see that. But I have a bad feeling about this, Foster.

So do I. Is there anything else you can think of that will tell us what we’re dealing with?

Not much. I heard Alvar and Fintan debating about whether or not someone was going to “deliver.” So that might mean there’s another person who needs to bring them something. Maybe King Dimitar?

Maybe. But he looked pretty furious when Fintan showed up.

Edaline was still rubbing Sophie’s back, and Sophie tried to focus on the feeling—tried to keep her head clear so she could think instead of panicking.

It’s not too late to beat this, Keefe thought, his mind humming with a new sort of momentum. Keep your head down and your eyes open, and don’t go anywhere without Sandor.

Sandor’s not here. Lumenaria has its own security force.

Can you trust them?

I don’t know. My guard seems nice.

Nice isn’t good enough. If there is another person helping Fintan, it would make sense that they’d be part of the security. So don’t hesitate to unleash that Foster rage on anyone who feels like a threat, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can.

You will? How?

Still figuring that out. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get inside the castle, but I’m sure there’s somewhere on the island I can hide.

Sophie doubted that, but she had a more pressing question. What about your babysitters?

Already working on it. That’s what I was trying to tell you when you first reached out to me. I decided I’m leaving the Neverseen. Tonight.

SEVENTY-SEVEN

SOPHIE PULLED AWAY from Edaline as the crush of emotions hit her. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to laugh or cry or shred a few of her bed’s fancy tasseled pillows.

On the one hand—Keefe was leaving the Neverseen!

On the other: WHY COULDN’T HE HAVE FIGURED IT OUT BEFORE HE FREED ALVAR, AND STOLE THE CACHE, AND THE ALLUVETERRE CRYSTAL, AND WHEN IT WASN’T SUPER DANGEROUS FOR HIM TO ESCAPE, AND ARRRRGGGGGHHHHH!

Hey, Keefe said, reminding her that their thoughts were still connected. I don’t blame you for the rage-fest, Foster—but I promise I’m going to make it up to you. All of it. Starting tonight.

She sank onto her bed, deciding sitting was a good idea. I know you want to help—but coming to Lumenaria is a bad idea. The island is nothing but a cold, rocky beach, and I’m sure there are goblins patrolling it. And Alvar and the others might expect you to go there. I think you should head to Sandor’s house in Gildingham. That’s where Grady is. They’ll keep you safe.

Uh, I’m pretty sure the most dangerous place I could be right now is alone in a room with your dad and Gigantor.

Flashes of the torturous “boys” conversation raced through Sophie’s mind. Hmm, you might have a point there.

So it’s settled, then, Keefe said. I’ll be outside Lumenaria as soon as I bust out of here. I don’t care if there are patrols, I’ll find a way to evade them. I want to be close—that way if you need me, I can help.

Sophie could think of a thousand reasons why that was a horrible plan. But there were other things to worry about.

How are you going to get away from everyone at the hideout? she asked. You said it was going to be rough.

It probably will be. And I know everything I’ve done lately has been made of epic fail. But this is different. I’m back to playing my own games. And Team Foster-Keefe is going to win!

“YOU BOTH LOOK TIRED,” MR. FORKLE noted as Sophie and Edaline took their seats at the formal summit breakfast.

Tired was an understatement. They’d stayed up late discussing Keefe—and then Sophie’s brain had spent the rest of the night churning out nightmares.

But she could tell King Dimitar was listening to their conversation, so she told Mr. Forkle, “They wouldn’t let me bring Ella. How do people sleep without stuffed animals? I didn’t know where to put my arms.”

Queen Hylda and Empress Pernille laughed at her joke, and Sophie was glad she’d made it. She hadn’t noticed they were also eavesdropping.

Now is not a wise moment for secrets, Mr. Forkle transmitted as Sophie picked halfheartedly at one of the pastries, getting chocolate on her silky gloves.

She told him what Keefe had decided and added, I’ve tried checking on him a few times and he hasn’t responded.

There’s nothing the Neverseen can do to stop you from communicating with him. If he’s ignoring you, it’s only because he needs to concentrate.

Technically, there was one way the Neverseen could silence Keefe forever—but she was not letting her mind go there. Nope. Nope. Nope.

I wish he wasn’t coming here, she told Mr. Forkle. It’s way too risky, and he’s only doing it because he feels like he needs to make everything up to me.

He does need to make it up to you. Haven’t you realized that yet? That’s why you and Mr. Sencen work so well together. You both push each other to believe in yourselves. Don’t go easy on him now because you’re afraid he’s too fragile. The more you let him prove himself, the more he’ll realize he’s still worthy.

Their conversation ended when a fleet of goblins marched into the room and announced that they’d be escorting everyone to a room called The Circle. It was a long trek, and Sophie cursed her stupid heels—and her much-too-poofy silver-blue gown—as they trudged through a dozen different halls and then up an endless winding staircase.

The Council was waiting for them in the highest room in the tower, at a glowing round table that Sophie was sure had been the inspiration for King Arthur’s legend. Twenty-one chairs circled the table at evenly spaced intervals—twelve for the Councillors, three for Sophie and Edaline and Mr. Forkle, one for each of the other intelligent species’ leaders, and one that remained empty—until the entire circular wall had been lined shoulder to shoulder with goblin soldiers. Then four additional guards marched into the room, surrounding a figure who rattled with every step.

“Sorry I’m late,” Fintan said, waving a chained hand as he clanked into his seat. “The security here is murder.”

Oralie’s cheeks turned as green as the simple gown she wore. Sophie wondered it the outfit was a tribute to Kenric. The elves always wore green to plantings—the color of life.

Councillor Emery cleared his throat as he stood. “As some of you know, this room is designed to remind us that we’re all equals. Debate is expected. Emotions will surely run high. But that doesn’t mean we can’t listen to and respect each other. We all share the same goal: a united world where our people can coexist peacefully, with a proper balance of freedom and structure to maintain order—”