Sophie glared at the spectral mirror, wishing she could tell Grady and Edaline to get rid of the obnoxious piece of technology. But the mirror had once belonged to Jolie. And Vertina had occasionally proven herself useful.

Plus, her hair did look like the top part of a pineapple.

“You’re making it worse,” Vertina said as Sophie tried brushing out the tangles. “Go grab a box of hair pins and let me save you from this impending disaster.”

Sophie was tempted to ignore her—Vertina would disappear the second she stepped out of the mirror’s range—but she let Vertina walk her through pulling her hair into some sort of sleek, twisty ponytail.

“Aren’t I a genius?” Vertina asked as Sophie tucked the final strand.

“You actually are,” Sophie begrudgingly admitted.

“Okay! Now for your makeup. Go get—”

Sophie stepped out of range, done with primping.

“Whoa,” Fitz said as she made her way down the stairs. “I didn’t recognize you for a second.”

“Bad hair day,” she mumbled, fidgeting with the end of the ponytail.

“No—it looks good,” he promised. “It really draws attention to your eyes.”

She knew Fitz probably meant it as a compliment. But she’d never gotten used to being the only brown-eyed elf.

Why couldn’t the side effect of her tweaked genes have been green eyes?

Or purple?

“You should do that more often,” Grizel said, emerging from her hiding spot in the shadows. “It’ll drive the boys wild.”

“Um, maybe.”

Attention made Sophie sweaty and fidgety. Especially attention from Fitz.

He was studying her so closely she finally had to ask, “What?”

“Just . . . checking for cuts or scratches. Making sure he didn’t hurt you.”

“You mean Keefe?”

Fitz cringed at the name. His hands also curled into fists—the knuckles turning white from the pressure.

Sophie turned to Mr. Forkle. “Can we have a minute?”

Mr. Forkle nodded and led Sandor and Grizel to the other side of the room.

Sophie motioned for Fitz to take a seat next to her on the sofa and decided it’d be easiest to talk telepathically. She gave him permission to enter her mind—he and Mr. Forkle were the only ones who could—and he effortlessly slipped past her mental blocking. Apparently she had a point of trust, and if someone transmitted the right thing, it worked kind of like a mental password. But it all happened subconsciously, so she had no idea what they said.

Okay, Sophie thought, sitting on her hands so she couldn’t tug on her eyelashes. We have to talk about Keefe. I know you don’t want to. But the more we ignore it, the more it’s going to affect our ability to work as Cognates.

All of their training focused on being open with each other. Their ultimate goal was supposed to be no secrets at all.

Are you sure it’s a good idea? Fitz asked. We both know I say stupid stuff when I’m angry.

Are you angry? she asked. I know you are at Alvar—and I’m with you on that. But are you sure that’s what you’re feeling toward Keefe?

Uh—did he or did he not destroy part of Foxfire yesterday?

Yeah, but it wasn’t like how you’re picturing.

In his mind, Keefe looked like a proper villain, laughing as the glass rained down.

Just watch, okay? She rallied her concentration and replayed what actually happened, from the moment she stepped into Magnate Leto’s office, to the final shattering seconds. Her photographic memory painted the scenes in perfect detail, and she left nothing out.

Okay, so maybe it’s not as bad as I thought, Fitz reluctantly admitted. But I still think you should’ve Sucker Punched him as soon as he spun around in that chair.

I thought about it, Sophie admitted, tracing her finger across the wide bracelet Dex had given her to make her punches stronger. But I’m glad I heard him out.

Fitz sighed. I guess that’s why he went to you instead of me.

Does that bother you?

No.

There was a strange prickliness about the thought, though.

What would you have done if he’d left the note for you instead of me? Sophie asked.

Fitz flopped back against the pillows and stared at the cascading crystal chandelier. I have no idea.

Are you sure? Sophie pressed. I can feel the words bubbling in the back of your mind. Just let them out—I can take it.

Fitz chewed his lower lip. Fine. I . . . don’t trust Keefe. I know you want me to—and I know I probably should, since he’s my best friend and he’s been through a ton of hard stuff. But he also has a LOT in common with my brother. Shoot—he used to call Alvar his hero.

Keefe didn’t know Alvar was with the Neverseen when he said that.

Maybe not. But it still makes me sick. Did you know that Alvar went to your planting in the Wanderling Woods? After he’d drugged you and tied you up and staged the cave to make everyone think you’d drowned? Then he stood there with his hand on my shoulder and offered to let me borrow his stupid handkerchief. And later that night, he snuck back to the Neverseen’s hideout and helped them torture you.

The skin on her wrists stung, phantom pain left from the interrogation.

Brant was the one who questioned me, she reminded him quietly.

Yeah, but Alvar let it happen. He knew what they were doing. Probably heard you screaming.

He punched one of the fluffy pillows so hard, bits of feather swirled through the air.

You’re right, Sophie said as the fluff slowly settled. But that was Alvar. You can’t keep lumping him together with Keefe. Your brother is . . . I don’t even know. I don’t understand why he would turn his back on his family, or do such unimaginably awful things. But Keefe really is trying to help us. He’s in over his head, and his plan is probably full of holes, and I’m betting we’re going to have to save him before this is over—but . . . his heart is still in the right place. I have to believe that.

Fitz shook his head. How do you stay so trusting after all you’ve been through?

It’s not always easy. Her hand moved to rub the emotions tangled under her ribs. Did I ever tell you what happened with Councillor Bronte? Remember how much he used to hate me?

Yeah, I used to hear my mom and dad whispering about what they’d do if Bronte got you expelled or banished.

He tried really hard. And when the Council made him my inflicting Mentor, I was pretty sure that would do it. It got so bad that Kenric had to be there to make sure Bronte wasn’t hurting me during the lessons. But then, Bronte made me teach him how I inflict positive emotions. And the happiness I blasted into his mind caused this weird mental shutdown. I still don’t know how to explain it. But I had to pull his consciousness back, and his head was seriously one of the scariest places I’ve ever been.