His meaning clicked a second too late.

Just enough time for Sophie to shout, “DON’T!” and Tam to meet Keefe’s eyes and tell him, “Stay away from me!”

Then darkness poured out of his hands despite the glowing bonds around his wrists, and the thick, inky black puddled on the ground.

“Stay away from me,” Tam repeated as he stepped into the darkness, disappearing with Lady Gisela into the shadows.

THIRTY-SEVEN

THEY’RE GONE.”

Sophie, Fitz, and Keefe all said the words at the same time—but their tones were completely different.

Sophie sounded shocked.

Fitz sounded furious.

And Keefe sounded…

… broken.

He started shaking right after, and Sophie and Fitz shared a look that seemed to say, It’s going to take both of us to get him through this, without either of them needing to actually transmit the words.

So they pooled their consciousnesses together and wrapped the warmth around their shivering, crumbling friend before they leaped the three of them back to the safety of the Lost Cities.

A large crowd was waiting for them in the Havenfield pastures, despite the late hour, since Sandor had indeed woken Grady and Edaline with news of Sophie’s reckless behavior—and word must have spread rather quickly from there, because they now found themselves facing Flori. And Alden. And Della. And Grizel. And Biana. And Woltzer. And Lord Cassius. And Mr. Forkle. And Tiergan. And all twelve Councillors. And the rest of Team Valiant. And Lovise. And Elwin. And Livvy.

Even Marella and Maruca had turned up, since Marella had a way of finding out about everything.

The only people missing were Ro—who was still surviving the war between her stomach and the amoebas—and Bo and Linh, which was a huge relief, since Sophie had no idea how to tell Linh about Tam’s betrayal, or whether they should even be calling it that.

Keefe, unsurprisingly, wasn’t nearly as conflicted.

Once his shock wore off, there was a lot of yelling.

And kicking the ground.

And finding stuff to fling as hard as he could.

There was even one brief moment where Sophie was pretty sure he’d been crying.

That was when she led him over to Calla’s Panakes tree and made him sit on her pile of pillows, wrapping him in one of the blankets to try to calm his shivers.

Soft melodies whispered through the leaves, and Sophie hummed along to help him find the rhythm.

“I know you can’t understand the lyrics,” she said quietly, “but it’s a really peaceful song about shifting seasons and the forest growing stronger each day. Will you close your eyes and try to listen?”

He sighed. “It was almost over, Foster. We had her.”

“I know.” She hugged him as hard as she could—not caring who was watching. Surely no one would fault her for being a good friend after what Keefe had just gone through.

“We had her,” Keefe said again. “And Tam would’ve been free if he’d just come with us.”

Maybe not.

Sophie stopped herself from voicing the words.

Just like she stopped herself from reminding Keefe that when he’d been with the Neverseen, there’d been a moment when he’d chosen to help Alvar escape instead of fleeing with her and her friends.

They’d have that conversation later. Once Keefe had calmed down. And once she’d had more time to process what had happened—because even if Tam did have a good reason for what he’d done, it could still end up being the kind of mistake they’d all pay the price for.

“Just try to rest for right now,” she told Keefe, calling Wynn and Luna over to snuggle with him. “I have to go answer more questions.”

Keefe nodded blankly. “We had her, Foster.”

“We did,” she agreed. “And we’ll get her again—for good this time.”

She repeated the vow in her mind as she stood to head back to the group.

And maybe Keefe thought she couldn’t still hear him as she walked away.

Or maybe it was too big of a worry to keep to himself.

But as he reached for a blanket, she heard him mumble, “We’d better do it fast. Otherwise I’m going to have to face my legacy.”

* * *

Poor Fitz looked pretty shaken by whatever bombardment of questions he’d endured while Sophie was getting Keefe settled.

And Sophie didn’t blame anyone for being upset—or for demanding answers.

She also felt seriously horrible for how much they’d worried everybody.

But when it came time to discuss proper punishment, she had a few things to say first.

“I know what I did was dangerous—”

“What we did,” Fitz corrected, reaching for her hand—which was buried under several layers of gloves again.

“It was my idea,” Sophie argued.

“Doesn’t matter,” Fitz insisted. “I chose to go with you—and I’d do it again.”

“So would I,” Sophie admitted, tangling their fingers together as she turned back to face the others. “That’s what I was going to say. I know this was dangerous. And I know you’re all stressed out and mad at me because of it—especially you, Sandor. And I get why. Just like I also realize how lucky I am that all three of us made it back unharmed. But… I don’t regret going. And if I had to do it all over again, I’d still sneak away.”

“Even though you didn’t accomplish anything you set out to do by going?” Mr. Forkle asked.

“We accomplished some of it,” Sophie argued.

“Yeah, we found their hidden path,” Fitz added.

And if Lady Gisela was to be believed, they’d also gotten an answer to whether or not Keefe was involved in what happened with the accident—though Sophie was still holding out hope that his mom had been playing one of her mind games in that moment.

“We also learned that Lady Gisela’s planning something for Keefe soon,” Sophie added. “And that Tam’s warning about what she wants him to do is probably true. And we saw those weird glowing bracelet things they’re using to keep Tam in line—”

“Yeah, about those,” Elwin interrupted, “when you get a minute, I’d love to see a projection of what they looked like.”

“So would I,” Wylie agreed. “I don’t understand how light would control a Shade.”

“I have a few theories,” Elwin said, mostly to himself.

“Do any of those theories involve quintessence?” Mr. Forkle asked him, and Sophie’s insides tangled tighter at the word.

“All of them, actually,” Elwin admitted, which did not help Sophie’s knotted-up feeling.

“Then it sounds like you and I need to have a longer conversation,” Mr. Forkle said, rubbing one of his temples. “I’ll project some images of the bonds for you—I’ve already seen Miss Foster’s and Mr. Vacker’s memories of them.”

“You have?” Sophie and Fitz asked in unison.

“Yes. When you run off in the middle of the night, sending everyone you care about into a panic—and then turn up with stories of accidental showdowns against our enemies—you lose the right to insist I follow the rules of telepathy. Though, for the record, I only searched your London memories.”