But there was nothing to seize.

Lady Gisela could make all the threats she wanted—cause all the theatrics. And Vespera was welcome to show up too. Or Gethen. They could have a great big Neverseen reunion.

And nothing would change the fact that Keefe wasn’t there.

Sophie mentally repeated the reminder as she tapped her foot, trying to be subtle with the motion.

She had no idea what was happening in the marketplace, or how much danger the group over there was in. But surely if Nubiti was busy, there were other dwarves she could send as backup.

Lady Gisela sighed. “I don’t understand why you insist on being so afraid of my son’s legacy, Sophie. I’m trying to give him the best life—the best world—I can possibly give him. That’s what parents do. We reach for the stars for our children.”

Sophie snorted. “This isn’t about Keefe—this is about you! You’re so desperate to be right about whatever creepy thing you’re planning that you’ll do anything to keep it going. No matter how much it hurts your son—or how clear he makes it that he wants nothing to do with you.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s resisting!” Lady Gisela argued.

“That’s because you keep refusing to tell him!” Sophie snapped back. “It’s almost like you know he’ll still reject it—and reject you.”

“What a strange conclusion for the moonlark to come to,” Lady Gisela murmured. “You’ve never rejected your creators, have you? And they made you their experiment.”

Sophie had to laugh at that. “You love to get all high and mighty about how you’re not like the Black Swan. But at least the Black Swan lets me have a choice in what happens to me! Oh, and by the way—that treatment you did to yourself and Lord Cassius? That totally counts as an ‘experiment.’ And I’m sure whatever you’re planning to do next is even worse. So you can stop deluding yourself. You’ve been experimenting on your son his entire life.”

Lady Gisela shook her head. “Trust me, there’s no delusion. Project Moonlark twisted and tweaked your genetics until you became something other. And the Black Swan may be okay with that—but I would never do that to my child. All stellarlune does is use the natural forces in our world to bring out someone’s full potential!”

“Stellarlune?” Sophie repeated, trying to stay focused—trying not to glance at the blond, ringleted Councillor across the room to see how she was reacting to all of this.

Lady Gisela smiled. “I see what you’re doing, Sophie. Stalling. Keeping me talking. Hoping I’ll say too much, all while waiting for the others in the marketplace to come save you. But I assure you, Vespera is keeping them very busy. Her plans are always so much more convoluted than mine.”

“Right, because this isn’t convoluted,” Wylie muttered, waving his arms around the room. “And I love how you’re totally ignoring the fact that your boy’s not here.”

“He’s not.” Lady Gisela turned to glare at Sophie. “And clearly you’re very proud of the stand you’ve taken.”

“I am,” Sophie agreed.

“And yet, for all your bluster, you failed to consider that I might be stalling as well. And you forgot the most important truth.” Lady Gisela stalked to the edge of the force field before she added, “I know my son way better than you do. That’s why I left him his own message.”

Ro groaned and muttered a string of words that seemed to cover every ogre insult ever created. “I’ll kill him.”

“I’m sure you’ll try,” Lady Gisela told her, stomping her foot again, making two more dwarves crawl out of the floor.

And with them was a sand-crusted, disheveled blond guy who was very clearly not tied up or restrained in any way.

Keefe coughed a few times and shook the dirt out of his hair before he stole a quick glance at Sophie. And his smile looked more sad than sheepish as he shrugged and told her, “Couldn’t let you have all the fun without me.”

FORTY-NINE

YOU PROMISED!” SOPHIE SHOUTED AS Ro screamed, “WE HAD A DEAL!”

“I know.” Keefe shuffled his feet, tapping his toe against the floor as the dwarves who’d dragged him there disappeared into the sand. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s it?” Sophie glanced at Ro, wondering which one of them looked more eager to launch a dagger at Keefe’s head.

“That’s all you have to say?” Ro added.

And Lady Gisela must’ve seen the murder in their eyes because she clapped her hands and called out, “All right, everyone—take a deep breath! Let’s not forget that there are hostages to consider! So keep those weapons tucked away. And I don’t like the way that some of you are trying to move right now either—especially you three.” She pointed to the Councillors, who’d been silently skirting the perimeter of the Grand Hall, moving toward the door. “Wishing you could go back to cowering in your crystal castles?”

“As opposed to cowering behind a force field?” Councillor Noland shouted back.

“Wait—what hostages?” Keefe asked.

And then his eyes seemed to notice, for the first time, the daggers being held at Flori’s and King Enki’s throats—and he stumbled back, shaking his head.

Sophie assumed he was fighting the same mix of frustration and horror and disgust that she was.

But Keefe had focused on the piece she’d missed. “You’re holding the DWARVEN KING hostage?” he shouted at his mother. “In the middle of HIS CITY? Right by HIS THRONE?”

Lady Gisela shrugged. “It’ll be fine, so long as you cooperate.”

Keefe whistled. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You’re in a way bigger mess than we are.”

Sophie had to agree—but she couldn’t share Keefe’s smugness.

The Neverseen rarely made mistakes—and when they did, they were disasters.

Vicious, bloodthirsty newborn troll–level disasters.

And now they had a dwarven king being held at knifepoint.

And while King Enki was being shockingly quiet and submissive for the moment—surely it was only a matter of time before his guards came charging in.

What if they blamed her and her friends, since one of them had made the force field that first trapped him?

Would the Councillors be able to smooth over a situation that fraught?

“Oh, stop with the wide-eyed-glancing-over-your-shoulders-with-panic thing,” Lady Gisela told her. “You look as pathetic as your little friends cowering behind your goblin—who’s supposed to be protecting you, isn’t he?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Sophie told her, glad to see that Sandor had positioned himself between Wylie and Maruca, since she had Ro near her. “You’re the one who’s going to be facing down an army of angry dwarves. Is all of this really worth it?” She waved her arms around the damaged throne room, imagining the depths of King Enki’s fury. “Whatever crazy thing you’re planning—”

“There’s nothing crazy about this!” Lady Gisela corrected. “Though those who lead the charge are often seen as such. And I’ll endure the scorn, and the risk, and the sacrifice, and the work, because I’m building something lasting. I’m building a—”