He glanced at something behind her, and Sophie whipped around to find a dozen gnomes crouched around two more bodies. Flori was busy working with them, smearing their wounds with crushed Panakes petals.

“They’re going to be okay,” Edaline whispered, holding Sophie tighter as they studied the unconscious, blood-streaked faces of Cadoc and Lady Cadence. “Lur and Mitya went to get Elwin. They should be back any minute.”

“Did you sedate them?” Sandor asked, crouching next to Cadoc and checking the pulse point at the goblin’s bruised throat.

“No, that’s from the shock and the blood loss,” Edaline told him. “But their breathing is strong. And their hearts are holding steady. They just need medicine. And lots of rest.”

Sophie nodded blankly, trying not to look at all the red. “I saw Brielle.”

Grady turned away to wipe his eyes. “She saved me. Took on four ogres at once so I could get to Edaline. Three of them fell by her sword, but the fourth was faster.”

Something cracked behind them.

Sophie turned and found Sandor clutching his bleeding fist, and a giant dent punched into one of the trees.

“Keefe was right about his warnings,” Edaline mumbled. “The Neverseen finally came after us.”

“You saw them?” Sophie asked.

She’d never forgive Keefe if he’d been there. Ever. Not even if he’d stood on the sidelines.

“No,” Grady said. “But one of the ogres shouted, ‘The Pyrokinetic is waiting.’ I don’t know if they meant Brant or Fintan, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is, their plan failed.”

Sophie repeated his last words, trying to find comfort in them.

But all she could think was, This isn’t over.

FIFTY-NINE

THE OGRES HAD almost won.

Somehow they’d seemed to know that Sandor wouldn’t be there. They’d also positioned themselves throughout the pastures to make sure no one had anywhere to run. And they’d known to wait for the afternoon feeding, when everyone would be carrying buckets instead of weapons. They’d even prepared for Grady’s ability, blocking his mesmerizing with special ogre-size versions of the thinking caps they used at Foxfire during exams. And when Edaline tried to conjure up weapons from their stockpile, the ogres had been ready to disarm her, as if they’d known exactly what she would do during the battle.

Brielle and Cadoc had fought bravely and ferociously. But there had been ten ogres.

Within minutes Brielle was dead, Cadoc and Lady Cadence seriously injured, and Grady and Edaline were preparing themselves to be taken.

“Verdi’s the one who saved us,” Grady said, his lips twitching with a dark smile. “She charged though her pasture’s fence, grabbed one of the ogres with her teeth, and trampled another. The remaining ogres rushed to help and . . . I’ll spare you those details, but let’s say Verdi got herself a nice taste of ogre meat. And she didn’t enjoy it.”

“And she’s okay?” Sophie asked. “They didn’t . . .”

“She took some hard blows,” Grady admitted. “She’ll probably limp from now on. She also lost a few teeth. But several gnomes stayed at Havenfield to care for her, and I was able to get pressure on her wounds as soon as the final ogre fled.”

“Coward,” Sandor spit, squeezing the handle of his sword so hard, the skin on his fingers looked ready to rip.

“I know,” Grady said. “And it was the ogre who murdered Brielle. He’ll have a scar across his chest from her final attack. If I ever see him again . . .”

“You won’t,” Sandor promised. “We have hunters who will find him and shred him.”

Sophie tried not to picture it—but her imagination ran wild.

Elwin saved her from the nightmares when he crawled out of the earth carrying two overfilled satchels. His tousled hair and crazy glasses gave him a bit of a mad-scientist air, but within minutes, his remedies had color flooding back into Lady Cadence’s cheeks and Cadoc’s eyes fluttering awake.

“I’ll need to move them to the Healing Center at Foxfire to clean them up and set a few broken bones,” he told Lur and Mitya. “Can you guys rig something to help us transport them through the earth? I’m afraid they might be too weak for a light leap.”

The gnomes got to work, weaving fallen branches into nestlike cots. While they built, Elwin turned his attention to Grady and Edaline. They each needed a dozen elixirs—and Grady had two cracked ribs—but Elwin promised Sophie they’d make a full recovery.

“I’m fine,” she told him as he snapped his fingers and flashed a blue orb around her face. “I wasn’t here.”

“I’m checking for signs of shock. You’re borderline, so I want you to take these.” He handed her two vials filled with a thick lime green syrup. “Not sedatives, I promise.”

“And not that weird happy elixir you gave me after Alden’s mind broke?” she checked.

“Nope. Think of these as a security blanket for your nerves. They’ll take away some of that chill”—he traced a finger down the goose bumps on her arms—“and slow your heart to its normal rate. That’s it.”

Sophie chugged them, barely registering the honeylike taste as warmth rippled through her.

“Want me to check on Verdi?” Elwin offered.

“If it won’t affect Cadoc and Lady Cadence’s treatment,” Edaline told him.

“And only if you can handle being around a few dead bodies,” Grady added.

Elwin cringed. “How many are there?”

“Nine ogres,” Edaline whispered. “And Brielle.”

Everyone bowed their heads at the name, and Sandor punched the tree again.

“Here,” Elwin said, reaching for Sandor’s bleeding knuckles.

“Do you have an Imparter with you?” Grady asked him. “I need to hail the Council and let them know what happened.”

“I can’t believe they had thinking caps,” Elwin mumbled. “And that the caps blocked mesmerizing.”

“The Neverseen must have designed them,” Edaline whispered.

Elwin nodded. “No one knows how to take down an elf better than another elf.”

“Which is why you’re no longer safe in the Lost Cities,” Sandor announced, clenching his newly bandaged hand. “Dimitar won’t accept failure—especially for this. This had to be his test to secure his new alliance.”