Does that mean you’re here?

Yep. The security patrols don’t seem to know this cave exists. So if you need me, I’m close. Call me and I’ll find a way to reach you. In the meantime, I’ll be practicing my body temperature regulation and hoping nothing with lots of teeth and fangs also calls this cave home.

How did you escape? Was it as rough as you thought it would be?

A little better. A little worse. But I made it. What about you—how’s it going at the summit?

Super weird.

She’d just started to tell him about the strange speeches by both Fintan and King Dimitar when Righty and Bunhead knocked to notify them the recess had ended.

King Dimitar was the last to return to the Circle, and refused to take his seat. “I’ve said my piece,” he told everyone. “And have no further reason for debate. I’ve named the terms I’ll agree to for this treaty. You should all find them more than reasonable.”

“And you truly wish to withdraw your people from the rest of the intelligent species?” Councillor Emery asked.

Dimitar nodded. “So long as you will leave my people in peace.”

“And how do we know this isn’t a ploy to remain unsupervised, so you can build your weapons and train for a large-scale invasion?” Queen Hylda asked.

“If the lack of supervision is the issue, I’m happy to grant access to Lady Cadence whenever she wants. Will that satisfy your concerns?”

“It does for me,” King Enki voted first.

“And me,” Empress Pernille agreed.

Queen Hylda acquiesced next, followed by the gnomish leader whose official name seemed to be Thales the Sower.

“I suppose it works for us as well,” Councillor Emery said. “What about you?” he asked Mr. Forkle.

“I believe it’s a strange decision,” he said. “But I see no objection. And I’d suggest adding language that makes for a simple process to renegotiate should the ogres someday change their minds.”

“What about me?” Fintan asked, “I get an equal vote in these proceedings. And this is madness. Sheer, hasty madness. Surely we should take the night to sleep on it.”

“My people need me,” King Dimitar argued. “And honestly, if I have to suffer through another day of this nonsense I’ll be tearing out my teeth just so I have something sharp to throw at you. As I understand it, this does not call for a unanimous vote, only a majority, which I clearly have. Draft the treaty.”

“As you wish,” Councillor Emery said, rolling up the sleeves of his silver tunic and taking the clean scroll Councillor Liora conjured. “Looks like we’re in for a late night.”

“Not if you write fast,” Dimitar told him. “I’ll make this simple. No confusing legalese. No loopholes and amendments. All we need are simple lists of ‘I will’ and ‘I won’t.’ For example, I won’t act against any other intelligent species if you will allow my people to keep ourselves separate.”

And so it went, with King Dimitar mapping out simple, clear demands that none of the other leaders had issue with, and Councillor Emery furiously scribbling it all down. It would’ve been a relief—if Fintan hadn’t looked so stressed. Even Mr. Forkle seemed to notice.

The third time Fintan requested the time, Mr. Forkle asked, “In a hurry?”

“Quite the opposite,” Fintan assured him. But he noticeably paled when Councillor Emery marked the end of the treaty lists with an intricate flourish.

“Would you like to check it over before you sign?” he asked Dimitar.

“No.” King Dimitar took the pen and scratched his name. “Done.”

One by one, the other leaders added their signatures, and Sophie watched Fintan the whole time. He kept his features composed—and didn’t ask for the time again. But tiny beads of sweat trickled down his brow.

“Take this to the records room and have it sealed,” Councillor Emery told one of the goblins, handing him the signed scroll. “And ring the bells to mark the official end.”

“And take Fintan to the dungeon,” Oralie added, sending ten guards swarming around him. “Having a seat at this table does not excuse you of your crimes. You will be held here until a tribunal can determine your final sentencing.”

Fintan rolled his eyes. “How predictable of you.”

Earth-shaking bells rang through the castle, vibrating the walls.

“Does that mean we’re free to leave?” Edaline asked as Sophie tried to keep up with how fast everything was moving.

Could they really have arrested the leader of the Neverseen and secured an ogre peace treaty in less than five minutes?

Apparently they had, because Councillor Emery nodded. “Though I hope you’ll stay to celebrate at the gala.”

“The gala,” Fintan whispered, so softly he probably thought no one could hear him.

Sophie did. She was watching him so intently, she missed the part where Edaline agreed they’d stay. But she didn’t miss the relief in his eyes.

Or the way he smiled at her and said, “Sounds like you’ll be celebrating all night,” as the goblins dragged him away.

“I think you should leave,” Sophie said, as soon as she and Edaline were back in their rooms. “Fintan looked way too happy. And he’s down in the prison, where he wanted to be. And he’s no longer worried about time. I bet he needed to keep the leaders here up until the hour they’d arranged. And that’s why he seemed so stressed when King Dimitar rushed the process—but now he knows everyone will be staying for the gala.”

This is what they want.

“And how does getting rid of me change any of that?” Edaline asked.

“Because I’ll know you’re safe while I figure out what to do.”

Edaline took Sophie’s gloved hands. “I’m not leaving without you, so let’s not waste time debating that. Do you think we should tell the Council what you’re thinking?”

“I doubt they’ll listen. They’ll go on and on about all the security and how impossible it would be for anyone to breach it.”

“The security here is amazing,” Edaline noted. “But I know how sharp your instincts are. If you think there’s a problem, we can’t ignore it. I just wish I were as good at planning things as you are. The best I can come up with is to go to the gala and talk to Oralie. She made the meeting with Gethen happen—she might be able to sway the Council again.”