“No,” Sophie had to admit again. “But I didn’t need to—the storehouse was behind a giant waterfall!”

“Did you actually consider that, though?” he pressed. “And what I mean is, did you have a conscious thought about there being an abundant water supply nearby that would safely extinguish the blaze before it could spread? Because if you didn’t, you don’t get to take credit for the waterfall’s safety. That’s what we call random luck.”

Sophie reached for her eyelashes, giving them a soft tug. “It wasn’t like I had a lot of time to think—”

“There’s never enough time to think in war,” he interrupted. “That doesn’t mean you don’t need to do it. Believe me, Miss Foster, I understand the complexity of the situation you faced today better than anybody. But since it’s only the first of many complex situations you’re going to find yourself in, I need to make sure you’re truly prepared for the responsibility you’re going to face. Because if it weren’t for the random luck of being near a waterfall today, you could’ve set off an enormous firestorm and caused untold collateral damage.”

Sophie shuddered and closed her eyes, trying to fight back the painful flashbacks.

But she could still hear the screams.

Still see the neon yellow flames.

Still remember the last time she saw Kenric’s face.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Be better. And remember that mistakes don’t have to be mistakes if you correct them quickly. You could’ve alerted someone about the fire the second you arrived at Solreef—had them go back to the hideout to monitor the blaze and contain it if necessary. But you didn’t do that, either.”

She wanted to point out that Tam and Flori and Sandor and Bo and Glimmer could’ve done that too, and hadn’t. But…

They weren’t the ones who smashed those sconces.

“None of this is easy,” he told her. “And sadly, it’s going to get harder. But you must never let yourself forget that winning won’t matter if you sink fully to the Neverseen’s level.”

“Glimmer thinks that’s the only way we’re going to win,” Sophie mumbled.

“Yes, well, Glimmer has much to learn as well. There’s a way to be bold and brave and stand up to your enemies without forgetting that actions have consequences.”

Sophie nodded, twisting a loose string on the edge of her sleeve as she worked up the courage to ask, “What consequences are going to come from what I did today?”

Mr. Forkle blew out a breath. “I wish I knew. But that’s how it always goes with hard decisions. I had no idea what would happen when I helped create a powerful young girl—a fearless moonlark. I just knew she was going to change the game. And now… she has. You have. And I’m proud of you. I believe in you. And I’m here to help you and guide you as much as I can.”

Sophie couldn’t think of what to say to that.

Was she supposed to say “thanks”?

Be grateful he’d dumped this impossible responsibility on her shoulders?

Maybe.

And maybe someday she’d even feel that way.

Someday when this was all over and life was normal again, maybe she’d look back and be glad she got to play a part.

Assuming that day ever happened.

But for now, she let her silence speak for itself—let it hold all her fear and uncertainty.

“I believe in you,” he repeated. “I believe in my moonlark. In fact, I’d love to see the symbol you created. Will you show it to me?”

Sophie stood, making her way to Tiergan’s desk and grabbing a pen and paper. She wasn’t an awesome artist like Keefe, but she sketched the simple lines she’d carved into the ground, adding a few extra curves and flourishes before she handed the page to Mr. Forkle.

His lips curled with another smile. “Now, that’s a symbol. You should start using this.”

“For what?” Sophie asked.

“You’ll know when the time comes,” he told her, which was such a cheating way to answer.

He laughed when she scowled.

“Just let it bring fear and hope to people, Miss Foster. And let it remind you to be strong and smart. Use it to change the game—but make sure you win the right way. And never forget that moonlarks can’t do everything on their own. Not even you.”

Sophie nodded.

“Good.” He stuffed the paper into one of the pockets in his cape. “I’m keeping this. And I’m going to let you keep those caches—but don’t think we’re not going to talk about your plans for those very soon.”

“I don’t actually have any plans,” Sophie told him.

Which was true, since she really didn’t want to have to go back to working with Oralie.

But she would probably have to.

“I know you don’t,” he told her. “But you will. You’ll figure it all out in time. That’s what leaders do. For now, how about you sit back down and tell me more about destroying this storehouse?”

“Why?” Sophie asked—but she still returned to one of the ottomans.

He smiled his widest smile yet. “Because we need to celebrate the victories.”

- SIXTEEN - Keefe

I have no idea what I’m doing,” Keefe whispered, “but it’s going to be okay.”

He’d said those words to himself several dozen times since he’d fled Elwin’s house. And now he was saying them again to a tiny, caged imp—who narrowed his watery green eyes, looking about as dubious as Keefe felt.

“Trust me, this will be your best look yet—you’ll see,” he promised, keeping his voice extra soft in case his new ability worked on furry creatures. Plus, it’d be super bad if he got caught sneaking into Foster’s room and messing with her pet. “Just give this a little drinky-drink for me, and let the awesomeness happen.”

He pressed a vial against Iggy’s lips, and the feisty imp unleashed a cage-rattling fart to punish him. But he also slurped down the thick syrup—a mix of five different elixirs, which Keefe had concocted from one of his prank stashes during the quick stop he’d made at the Shores of Solace.

Thankfully, Daddy Dearest hadn’t been home, so he’d been able to grab the final thing he needed and get away without any drama.

“Ooo, it’s working—what did I tell you?” Keefe scratched Iggy’s fuzzy cheeks, filling the room with the sound of squeaky purring as Iggy’s fluffy fur slowly changed colors—green in some patches. Blue and purple in others.

Some spots even merged into a soft teal tone, which made Keefe want to roll his eyes and grumble about Fitzphie.

But Foster would love it.

And honestly, he hoped Fitz would step up and become whoever and whatever she needed him to be.

She deserved that.

She deserved to be happy.

“Huh, that’s unexpected,” he said as tiny black tiger stripes streaked across Iggy’s body. Keefe wasn’t sure which of the elixirs had caused something like that. He’d just thrown his favorites together, trying to create something memorable.