Practically on cue, Tam shouted from the bathroom above, “Dude—this guy uses more hair products than I do!”

“Well,” Grizel said, tucking the effluxer next to her sword, “I’m still counting this as a find. The rules never said it had to be related to the Neverseen.”

She winked.

“But we’re not done searching yet,” she added. “I don’t just want to win. I want to crush them like a sanguillisk.”

“Do I want to know what that is?” Sophie asked as she followed Grizel back upstairs.

“Depends on how you feel about bugs,” Linh told her. “Imagine a roach and a mosquito having a ten-pound flying baby.”

“And . . . now I’m never going to sleep again.”

Grizel laughed as she and Linh got busy searching under the bed and between the mattresses.

Sophie studied the space, trying to think like Keefe again. “Where’s Mrs. Stinkbottom?”

“Am I going to regret asking what that is?” Grizel asked.

“She’s a green gulon stuffed animal that Elwin and I gave Keefe to help him sleep. He didn’t have a satchel when he left, so she should be here.”

They checked under the bed again, and under the decorative pillows piled on top, before making their way upstairs.

“This is our territory,” Sandor growled, blocking them from entering the humongous bathroom, complete with mirror-lined walls and a swimming pool–size bathtub.

Grizel stroked his cheek. “Are we making you nervous?”

Sandor flinched out of the way, not saying a word as Sophie and Linh made their way into the closet. They found Fitz and Tam sorting through the racks of clothes—so many clothes. Enough to last Keefe a decade or two.

“Anyone see any stuffed animals?” Sophie asked. “I can’t find Mrs. Stinkbottom.”

Tam snickered.

“Hey, all the cool kids are sleeping with stuffed animals these days,” Fitz informed him.

“I take it that means you have a Mrs. Stinkbottom of your own?” Linh asked.

“I have a Mr. Snuggles.”

“Wow.” Tam said. “Just . . . wow.”

Grizel clapped her hands. “Enough about stuffed animals. Did you boys find anything?”

Sandor’s smile was undeniably smug when he showed her the two stashes of pranking elixirs they’d found in Keefe’s shoes—plus a rather terrifying container labeled MIXED FECES that had been hidden behind a rack of tunics.

“We also found my favorite bramble jersey,” Fitz added. “I knew he stole it.”

“That doesn’t count,” Grizel told him.

Sandor shrugged. “Either way, we’re still winning. And I already decided on my favor.”

“Yeah, well, don’t go counting on it yet,” Grizel warned. “Girls—help the boys with this closet. I’m sure they’ve missed something.”

Sandor was busy assuring her they hadn’t when Linh noticed the edge of a silver chest in the shadows of the highest shelf.

Sophie floated the trunk down using her telekinesis. “Looks like more pranking supplies—another effluxer, a few empty medicine vials, and a bottle of Drooly Dew.”

The bottle was wrapped in crumpled green paper, and when she spotted an opened card underneath it, Sophie realized she was looking at the gift she’d given Keefe for midterms the year before. He’d teased her mercilessly about the detention dance lesson she’d been forced to share with Valin—nicknamed one of the “drooly boys” by Marella—so she’d decided to get back at him. In the card she’d written, “Now you can be drooly too!”

She couldn’t believe he’d kept it.

“All right, back to searching,” Grizel said. “I’m not settling for a tie. You boys found three stashes, and we found two, and learned that Mrs. Fartbottom is missing.”

“Stinkbottom,” Sophie corrected. “And honestly, I’m starting to think we’re wasting our time. If Keefe left something for us, he probably would’ve asked me if I found it. And if he had something to hide, he probably would’ve taken it with him.”

Grizel shrugged. “Either way, we still need a winner. Did you boys already check all of the cape pockets?”

“Some of them,” Fitz said.

Grizel clicked her tongue and rushed over to a rack of cloaks. “Clearly I need to teach you some dedication. But we’ll do that after I destroy your lazy butts with the find of the night. Come on, Sophie and Linh, let’s crush these boys!”

“Not if we crush you first!” Sandor shouted, charging into the cape-pocket showdown.

“Are all goblins this competitive?” Sophie asked, deciding to watch from the sidelines as Sandor and Grizel tried to shove their meaty hands into the narrow pockets.

“It’s just her,” Sandor squeak-growled.

“Nothing wrong with a girl who goes after what she wants,” Grizel argued. “And what I want is a whole night of you wearing those silver pants I know you still have and sashaying around the dance floor.”

Sophie giggled. “Can I be there?”

Sandor tore through the capes even faster. “No, because it’s not happening!”

“Oh, sweetie, I hate to break it to you—but BAM!” Grizel pumped one fist while she used the other to wave a sealed envelope under Sandor’s nose. “Would you like do the honors, Sophie—even if you don’t deserve it, after you chose to be Too Cool for the Cape Hunt?”

Sophie caught herself holding her breath as she took the envelope from Grizel, slid her finger under the flap, and removed a folded, crumpled paper.

“Did Keefe draw that?” Fitz asked, peeking over Sophie’s shoulder at the photo-real sketch of Lady Gisela looking elegant and aloof—but with a hint of her son’s smirk.

“I think so,” Sophie said.

She’d seen the same sketch in a memory Keefe had shown her, of his father screaming at him for drawing during his Foxfire sessions. Lord Cassius had torn all the pages out of Keefe’s notebook and stormed off. But after he was gone, Keefe’s mom had retrieved one drawing.

Sure enough, when Sophie turned the portrait of Lady Gisela over, she found a note in loopy writing.

Signed: Love, Mom.

TWELVE