“You don’t approve,” Mr. Forkle noted when Gethen cursed.

“Not that it matters, but no, I don’t. I think it’s a horrible play—sloppy and reckless and will surely end as well as Sophie’s kidnapping. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to help you.”

“Why not?” Sophie asked.

“The Council would be prepared to show their gratitude,” Oralie added.

“Yes, I’m sure they’d be happy to unlock this cage and let me go free. Maybe they’d pull that sword from the stone and give it to me as a souvenir.”

“They’d be willing to offer you an improved situation,” Oralie corrected. “There are other places you could be held. Places where it’s possible to feel the passing of time.” She tapped her toe against the glowing stone floor. “The lumenite keeps your world an endless day.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Yes you have,” Mr. Forkle said. “I can see the twitch in your eye. I bet you have no idea how long you’ve been in here. Maybe you should’ve thought to count the seconds.”

“Well, Miss Foster still has that fresh-faced bloom of youth about her, so I’m guessing it hasn’t been that long. Besides, each time they bring me a pillow it’s a dead giveaway.”

Oralie smiled. “They never bring the pillow at the same time. It’s part of their instructions. Sometimes they go days before they cue you to sleep again. Sometimes only hours. Meals are just as scattered. Haven’t you noticed how sometimes the hunger pains feel like they might tear you apart, or morning comes only minutes after you close your eyes?”

“Our bodies run on rhythm and routine,” Mr. Forkle added. “Without it, we deteriorate.”

“Lovely picture you both paint.” Gethen cleared a catch from his voice. “But I’m still quite happy where I am.”

“Then why is your mind frantically trying to guess the date?” Mr. Forkle asked. “Perhaps you’re starting to realize just how long you’ve been abandoned?”

“They’re not going to rescue you,” Sophie pressed. “Oralie’s offer is the best chance you have. And all you have to do is tell us where you think they would’ve brought Wylie.”

“It won’t do you any good. You’ll never be able to find the hideout.”

“Actually, we will.” Sophie glanced at Mr. Forkle, needing his reassuring nod before she rattled off everything they’d pieced together about the Lodestar symbol. It was a risk, giving away how much they’d learned. But they needed to make an impression.

Gethen rubbed his temples. “This is what happens when you capture people. It lights a fire in their loved ones that burns wilder than Everblaze. Always a losing game.”

“So take the win for yourself,” Oralie told him. “One piece of information in exchange for a much more comfortable life.”

Gethen stood to pace. He’d made several circles around the room before his eyes locked with Mr. Forkle’s. “Very clever. You almost had me there—but I’m onto you now, so you can get out of my head.” He turned to Sophie. “And I’ll take my chances here, thank you very much. They’re better than you think.”

Mr. Forkle’s fisted hands made it clear that Gethen wasn’t lying about blocking him. And they were out of games. Out of options. Out of time.

Sophie couldn’t decide if she wanted to cry or kick something.

“You honestly thought you’d beat me, didn’t you?” Gethen asked as their group turned to leave. “Sorry, Miss Foster—I’ve been playing this game far too long. But you raised an interesting question. So I’m willing to make you an offer. Truth for truth. One from me. One from you.”

“It’s a trick,” Oralie said.

“I can assure you it’s not.”

“How will I know you’re not lying?” Sophie asked.

“You won’t. But I won’t know if you’re lying to me, either. That’s the game.”

“Do I get to choose my own question?”

“Yes—but I get to go first.”

Sophie glanced at Mr. Forkle. “Deal.”

“Good decision. And here’s my question. Has the Peace Summit already occurred?”

Sophie considered lying—but he’d probably be able to tell. And that would guarantee he’d lie with his answer.

“No,” she said. “It hasn’t happened.”

“But it will soon?”

“That’s a separate question. Now it’s my turn. What was Cyrah’s connection to the Neverseen?”

Gethen’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought you wanted to know where they’re keeping Wylie.”

“I did,” Sophie said. “But now I want to know this more.”

“Interesting.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is, actually. Her connection was interesting. You never specified that I had to give details. Just like I didn’t specify a better idea on timing. We both chose our questions poorly.”

Sophie sighed. “Fine. The Peace Summit will be happening soon. Now tell me what made Cyrah’s connection to the Neverseen so interesting.”

He sat quiet long enough to convince her he wouldn’t answer. Then he told her, “Starstones.”

FIFTY-SEVEN

DO YOU THINK he was lying? Sophie transmitted to Mr. Forkle as their group of goblins led them—blindfolded again—back up the winding staircase. The journey felt twice as endless as it had the first time, and her muscles burned from the incline.

It would be a strange lie to tell, Mr. Forkle said. Nowhere in the conversation did we mention Lady Gisela’s hairpin. Cyrah also worked with many different gems. She specialized in ribbons, but she did sell other hair accessories. And she was a Flasher, so it’s possible she did some sort of light treatment to make Lady Gisela’s stone flash blue.

But why would she help the Neverseen? Sophie asked. She knew her husband sacrificed himself for the Black Swan.

I honestly have no idea. It’s possible she was angry with us for not protecting Prentice. Or Lady Gisela could’ve ordered the pin without telling Cyrah its purpose. Or she could’ve been coerced. The Neverseen certainly aren’t above blackmail, and a single mother facing the scorn of our world would be especially vulnerable. I’ll have to see if Wylie knows anything that could help us narrow down the possibilities. And I’ll need to do more research on starstones.