Something.

Sophie had no idea what.

Lady Gisela had managed to escape—again—without giving any further insights into her son’s condition. And Keefe had been unconscious ever since.

But Elwin could tell that Keefe’s cells were going through some sort of transformation—which was the same horrible word that Lady Gisela kept using to describe what she hoped would happen to her son if he “embraced the change.” And while Elwin seemed convinced that Keefe was simply manifesting a new special ability—that still sounded absolutely terrifying. Especially since Sophie had a feeling that would only be the beginning.

They wouldn’t know for sure until Keefe woke up.

If he—

She managed to shut down that bleak thought before it could fully form. But she couldn’t stop the bigger worries from screaming around her brain like a freaked-out banshee.

What if Keefe wasn’t Keefe anymore?

What if he joined the Neverseen for real?

What if he turned into—

“No.”

She said the word out loud to silence all the mental noise.

She’d stayed telepathically connected to Keefe the entire time the shadowflux and quintessence were tearing through his system, and he’d still been him.

He’d also been having some very Keefe-like dreams now that he was safely in the Healing Center.

Plus, Keefe was much too stubborn to ever let his mom win.

But Lady Gisela is just as stubborn, her brain had to remind her. And she isn’t done with Keefe yet.

She’ll never be done with him.

Not until she gets what she wants.

Or someone kills her…

“What are you doing?” Oralie asked as Sophie jumped to her feet, needing to move—pace—something.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t look up the sequence to open the cache before you came here,” Sophie grumbled. “You knew we were going to need it.”

Oralie’s pink lips flickered with a hint of a smile. “It’s not as if there’s an instruction manual, Sophie. Quite the opposite, actually. The knowledge was divided into pieces and scattered throughout my consciousness—and sadly, using your telepathy won’t help, since false instructions were buried with everything else, and you’d never be able to tell which are which.”

“Okay,” Sophie said, tugging out an eyelash as she walked a slow circle around the trunk of Calla’s Panakes tree. “Then how do we figure it out?”

“We don’t—though I appreciate your spirit of teamwork. And I understand your urgency. I feel it too. But I’m still going to need a minute to think.”

Sophie gritted her teeth and went back to circling, tapping her fingers against the coarse, braided bark to distract herself.

But one minute turned into two.

Then three.

Four.

“You know, for years I’ve had to hear about how perfect and safe your world is supposed to be,” Sophie muttered, kicking the grass. “And yet you guys sure did put a lot of obnoxiously complicated security measures into place.”

“I think you mean our world,” Oralie corrected.

Sophie shrugged.

The Lost Cities were her home now—and she wouldn’t ever want to leave them.

But sometimes she felt… disconnected.

“You’re not wrong about the contradiction,” Oralie admitted, reaching for a fallen Panakes blossom. “We’ve been playing both sides for far too long. Convincing ourselves that we’re above the problems plaguing the other intelligent species, all while still attempting to prepare for any worst-case scenarios—through rather convoluted methods, I’ll even admit. We wanted to believe that we’re superior. And we are, in certain ways. But… I can’t help wondering if things would be different right now if we’d simply accepted from the beginning that the power we have is both our greatest asset and our largest vulnerability.”

“Or maybe things would be different if you stopped trying to control everyone all the time,” Sophie suggested.

That was what the whole mess boiled down to.

A ridiculous power struggle.

The Neverseen thought they should be in charge—and they’d convinced others to join their cause by pointing out the Council’s mistakes.

Uncovering lies the Councillors had told.

Highlighting injustices they’d allowed.

And the scariest part was: The Neverseen weren’t wrong.

They just had really cruel solutions to all of the problems—at least as far as Sophie could tell. She’d only uncovered tiny fragments of their plans, and she still had no idea how to fit the pieces together.

The Neverseen were too smart to give anything away until they were ready to put their schemes into action.

But Sophie had to get ahead of them this time—had to stop them from dragging Keefe in any deeper.

Unless she was already too late…

“Ruling this planet is no easy task,” Oralie told her. “We do the best we can.”

Maybe they did. But the Council’s “best” didn’t seem to be good enough anymore—assuming it ever had been. And Sophie was tempted to remind Oralie that no one had asked the elves to put themselves in charge.

But she needed to stay focused.

“What exactly do you remember from the instructions?” she asked, pointing to the cache.

Oralie stood, holding the tiny crystal up to eye level. “I know it needs my blood, sweat, and tears. I’m just not sure if that’s the right order to give them in. It might be tears, sweat, then blood. Or sweat, tears, then blood. Or sweat, blood, and tears. Or blood, tears, then—”

“Is there someone you can ask?” Sophie cut in. “What about Bronte?”

“Councillor Bronte would not support my decision to come here. Nor would any of the other Councillors. They believe the Forgotten Secrets should remain forgotten.”

“Then why bother storing the memories in the first place?” Sophie countered.

“Because it’s important to have a record somewhere, in case of an extreme emergency.”

“Well this—”

“Isn’t,” Oralie finished for her. “At least not as far as the rest of the Council is concerned. In fact, several Councillors feel that the uncertainty behind Keefe’s condition would best be managed medicinally—or by containing him.”

Bile soured Sophie’s tongue. “They wouldn’t order Elwin to keep him sedated, would they? Or lock him away in Exile?”

Or both.

She couldn’t bring herself to voice the last option, in case it gave the Council ideas.

Exile’s somnatorium was real.

Sophie had walked through its disturbingly silent halls.

“I won’t let that happen,” Oralie promised. “But the more information we have about what the Neverseen are planning for him, the better. Why do you think I’m here? I told you, I’m done hiding from the darker truths in our world. I’m ready to face them—even if it means violating my oaths. I just can’t count on any help from the rest of the Council. Particularly because I’m working with you.”

Sophie frowned. “But, I’m a Regent now. And the leader of Team Valiant! If they don’t trust me—”