“I’ll try my best,” Wylie promised.

“And it will never work,” an unfamiliar female voice told him. “Only the person who sealed the bonds can unseal them.”

“And I’m guessing that was you?” Keefe called into the darkness.

“It was,” agreed the voice, which had to belong to the other member of the Neverseen—who was clearly the person they needed.

More fire, Sophie transmitted to Marella, and Marella made her blue fireball double in size.

Heat licked Sophie’s cheeks as she searched the brighter space, relieved to finally see all of her friends.

But there were still too many shadows and cracks and crevices.

Keep her talking, Sophie transmitted to Keefe as she opened up her mind.

She was finding this girl—now.

And she was making her set Tam free.

“That didn’t bother you? Treating someone like that?” Keefe called to the girl, obeying Sophie’s request. “Didn’t make you wonder what they’d do to you if they were willing to do that to him?”

“You’re wasting your time,” Lady Gisela told him. “Glimmer’s more loyal to our cause than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Glimmer,” Keefe repeated. “Wooooow. Okay, then. How’d you pick that name?”

“Am I the only one wondering what we’re still doing here?” someone whispered in Sophie’s ear—arguably the last voice that Sophie wanted to hear. “This is a standoff now,” her biological mother informed her, “and our side seems to be out of moves—and King Enki’s surely rallying the troops. We need to get out of here.”

“How?” Sophie whispered back. “Tam can’t leave with those things on his wrists, and Linh’s not going to leave her brother, and I’m not leaving anyone behind. And even if we had a fix for all of that, how are we supposed to get out of the city?”

Keefe was right—they didn’t have an exit strategy.

And his hadn’t worked.

Which was strange.

He’d dragged even more of their friends into danger—he wouldn’t have done that unless they were essential to his plan.

And all Marella had done was make a couple of flames.

And all Linh had done was say hi to Tam.

Was that really all that was supposed to happen?

That was when she noticed the way Keefe kept shuffling his feet as he tried to draw out the conversation.

The very deliberate, repetitive pattern—as if he were calling for more dwarves and nothing was happening.

Which made her wonder how bad it was in the main marketplace.

What was Vespera doing?

It had to be something huge for King Enki to wait this long to come after the elves who’d pressed a knife to his throat.

Bile soured Sophie’s tongue, and she wondered if it was a mistake that she hadn’t reached out to Fitz—but were they supposed to do that if things went bad?

She closed her eyes, deciding it had to be better to know.

But as she stretched out her concentration… she heard it.

A low, audible rumble in the ground.

“I guess that means it’s time,” Lady Gisela said, her voice echoing everywhere as the ground shook beneath their feet.

“Time to find out what happens when you take a king hostage,” Councillor Liora told her. “Don’t expect us to speak in your defense.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Lady Gisela assured her as a dozen dwarves burst out of the floor—and a dozen more after that.

And Sophie shouted to her friends, “Raise your hands!”

Like humans did when they faced the police, to make it clear they posed no threat.

It’s going to be fine, she told herself. Keefe’s the one who helped rescue him.

Surely this is only between him and the Neverseen.

But when she glanced toward the dwarven king—who now stood blocking the door—his eyes were fixed on her.

And they were not friendly.

He held her stare as he raised his leg and slammed his foot down hard enough to crack the floor and…

Then there was chaos.

And Sophie understood why humans loved to say “it was all a blur,” because her brain had no way to process what had happened.

Screams and gasps and grunts and pain—but only for a few heartbeats—and then Sophie realized she was now on the floor, limbs bound, something heavy on her back.

And she wasn’t the only one.

She couldn’t turn her head much, but she could see Keefe and Maruca and Wylie and Sandor and Ro.

Only Keefe was conscious.

And Sophie’s mind fixated on the “how”—how the dwarves could strike so fast, so true, and take out their group in seconds.

But when she found her voice, she shoved down those questions, focusing on the fact that she needed King Enki to know. “We weren’t a part of this.”

She expected him to argue.

But he told her, “I know.”

“Then why?” Sophie wondered, still trying to figure out the misunderstanding as King Enki crouched in front of her.

“Your Council and your Black Swan have come to my city many times—telling me to trust them and no others. Begging for my help. My faith. My fealty. Offering their help in exchange, as if I haven’t noticed how many times they’ve failed. As if my people haven’t had to help them rebuild, over and over and over, after their defeats. As if I didn’t wonder if they ever had a victory. And then they came to me again, telling me they were now allies. Stronger. Smarter. And they told me the next attack would be in my city. Promised to stop it. Told me to trust. But they had no plan. And they sent me children. So I knew how it would end. And I made my own alliance. With the ones who win.”

Sophie’s mouth went dry.

And her heart pounded harder, harder, harder as she strained her neck, searching the prone figures around her for any sign of a black cloak.

“Don’t struggle,” King Enki told her as she tried to twist free, reaching for the strength in her core. “And don’t dare use any of your abilities. Your friends are unconscious now—but I can finish them easily, starting with your goblin, ogre, and gnome.”

Keefe barked a vicious laugh. “You’re seriously allying with the people who had a knife to your throat a few minutes ago instead of the people who helped you escape?”

King Enki marched over to where Keefe lay struggling against the dwarf holding him. “If you think I couldn’t have knocked the Shade to the ground and stabbed him with his own weapon—or simply tunneled away—you’re a bigger fool than I imagined.”

“Then why…?” Sophie started to ask.

But it wasn’t hard to figure out.

Not with hindsight, at least.

“You needed to wait for Keefe to arrive,” Sophie said, certain Lady Gisela was nearby listening. “So you let King Enki play hostage.”

“It wasn’t my most clever improvisation—but it got the job done,” she agreed. “Though King Enki still owes me one more thing.”

King Enki sighed. “If you go back on your word—”

“I won’t,” Lady Gisela assured him.

“Then so be it,” King Enki said, and Sophie twisted and fought, but it didn’t matter. She could only watch as he dragged Keefe over to his throne and dropped him onto the seat—then placed his crown over Keefe’s head.