SIXTY-ONE.
KING DIMITAR LOOKED every bit as ridiculous as Sophie remembered, between his riveted metal diaper and his hairless gorilla-shaped body.
He also looked extra terrifying.
He wore no cape or crown-just a series of swirling tattoos across his forehead, and yellow stones set into his earlobes. But everything about him testified to his kingship. He moved with authority and confidence, as though he knew he could defeat the goblins towering over him without even needing his evil-looking sword.
If barbed wire were as thick as King Dimitar's head and sharpened to a wicked point, it would look a lot like his blade. A single stroke likely wouldn't just kill someone, it would disembowel them.
"Oh, relax," King Dimitar said in his painfully familiar voice as the goblins pointed their curved swords at his chest. "If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead."
"And if your presence was welcome, we would've invited you," Councillor Emery countered.
King Dimitar smiled-a cruel curve made jagged by his pointed teeth. "You accuse me. That's invitation enough. If you're going to insinuate that my people are behind this plague-"
"Do you deny it?" Councillor Emery interrupted.
"I don't deny that the drakostomes exist. Nor that they are one of my favorite possessions. But tell me this: Have you found any signs of ogres at the sites of the infestations?"
The Council's silence made his smile stretch wider. "That's what I thought."
The gnomes resumed their cries, hurling insults and accusations. Councillor Emery called them to order before he told the king, "Evidence can be missed."
"Or it can never be left in the first place." He stalked closer to the goblins, forcing them back a step before turning to the crowd. "Your rebels came to me with this grand scheme for domination. I've simply sat back and watched it unfold."
"He's right," a new voice shouted from somewhere high above them.
Gasps echoed through the city as a black-cloaked figure waved from the roof of an amethyst and emerald tower. Even from that height, the white eye symbol on his sleeve taunted them.
"I wouldn't move if I were you," the figure told the goblins scaling the walls to arrest him. He snapped his fingers, and a sphere of neon yellow Everblaze sparked to life over his left hand. "You just rebuilt this city, didn't you?" he asked the Council. "I suspect you'd prefer not to do it again. Especially since this time I hardly think you can count on the gnomes to help."
King Dimitar laughed, picking bits of something Sophie didn't want to identify out of the jagged barbs of his blade. "Now you see my new strategy. I don't have to defeat the elves. You'll do that yourselves."
"Why?" Councillor Emery asked, his eyes focused on the Neverseen figure. "Why would you harm so many innocent gnomes?"
"Because sometimes you have to let things burn to let something better rise from the ashes." He tossed the fireball up and caught it with his other hand a split second before it would've ignited the building. "And let's not ignore the role you've played. We've been waiting for you to come forward, confess the secrets you've kept. We timed each release of the plague in careful stages-and look how many it took to get us here today. Even now, you only stand there because the gnomes pieced things together. That's become the elvin way, secrets and lies, while those who depend on you suffer in ignorance. But things don't have to stay that way!"
Sophie tried to think, but every time the flames flickered, her mind was paralyzed by memories of the jeweled buildings melting into glittering lava.
She was too lost in the past to ask the question Dex asked next-the question that changed everything: "There's no way to grow back a hand, right?"
The logic shattered her panic, and in the brief seconds of clarity she managed to realize, "That's not Brant."
In fact, now that her brain was catching up, she recognized the raspy tone of the figure's voice.
"No," she whispered. "It . . . it can't be."
But she knew it was, even before the figure pulled back his black hood.
"I'm tired of disguises," he said. "Tired of living like I'm the one with something to hide. Tired of letting you think I fear you. I stand before you now as the future of our world, every bit as unstoppable as my flames."
Sophie stared in horror at the face that was every bit as real as it was impossible.
Blond hair.
Slender features.
Cold blue eyes.
"Surprise," he said as Oralie screamed and Terik had to hold her back.
Somewhere in the chaos Sophie could hear King Dimitar laughing. But she was too shocked to feel anything.
Fintan had survived the Everblaze.
SIXTY-TWO.
HOW COULD HE be alive?" Sophie asked. "Alden saw the flames overwhelm him."
"Clearly there was some trick," Sir Astin whispered.
"Does that mean-"
"No." He cut her off before she could fully form the question. "Kenric is gone."
"So was Fintan!"
"Yes. But do you think Kenric would let us mourn his loss? Let that thought go-now. It will only distract you from our actual problem." He pointed to the roof, where Fintan stood, stroking the smoke around the Everblaze as if it were his pet.
It wasn't fair-if she had to have Fintan back, why couldn't she have Kenric, too?
But Sir Astin was right. Kenric would never let Oralie suffer. Just watching her thrash and flail and sob broke Sophie's heart.
Fintan turned to the goblins, who'd huddled up to work out a plan. "Remember, the only reason these flames aren't devouring this building is because I'm holding them back. If anything happens to me, this whole city burns."
"This is madness," Councillor Terik shouted at Fintan.
"No-it's called taking action," Fintan snapped back. "A new concept for you, I realize. I remember when I was a Councillor. Always sitting back, thinking we needed more time, more information, more thorough consideration. We claimed it proved our superior wisdom. But really? We were cowards. Afraid to make the hard choices and do what needed to be done."
"And what are you accomplishing by killing innocent gnomes?" Emery shouted.
"It's called getting your attention," Fintan said. "We have a plan-one I wish I could take credit for, but that's owed to our previous leader. It's a shame she couldn't be here to see her vision realized. In the end, she was a coward too. She wanted to think more. So I removed her to see the Lodestar Initiative through."
Keefe's hand fell slack in Sophie's, and she needed Dex's help to keep him steady when Lord Cassius shouted, "What have you done to my wife?"
"Nothing more than she deserved," King Dimitar said, reminding everyone that Fintan wasn't the only monster among them. "And no more than I'd be willing to do to any of you."
"Is that a threat?" Councillor Bronte shouted.
"It's an end to the ridiculous charade we keep playing," King Dimitar told him. "Aren't you as tired of it as I am? You despise us every bit as much as we despise you. And were your minds not so pitifully weak, you would've attacked us long ago."
"And if you didn't know we could beat you, you would've attacked us," Councillor Emery snapped.
"For the moment," King Dimitar agreed. "But let's see what happens when we cut off your resources."
"Yes, let's," Fintan said, turning to the gnomes. "Everything the Council told you about the drakostomes is true-with the exception of one crucial detail." He paused to make sure he had their full attention before he added, "There is a cure."
King Dimitar reached into his metal diaper and pulled out a narrow test tube filled with a muddy liquid. Sophie wasn't sure which disgusted her more-where that test tube had been, or the fact that the ogres had withheld the cure all this time.
"You didn't honestly believe we wouldn't save some of the Panakes bark, did you?" King Dimitar asked the Council.
"So here's how this is going to work," Fintan told the gnomes. "You agree to our deal, and we'll give you the cure to save your ailing kinsmen. There should be enough time to save them-no thanks to the Council and their stalling."
"And what is your deal?" Councillor Emery asked.
"I'm not talking to you. This decision is entirely up to the gnomes. Are you listening?" he asked them. "I'm only going to say this once. We're willing to share the cure on a single condition. You must leave the Lost Cities and serve in Ravagog."
"The gnomes do not serve us," Councillor Zarina shouted.
"I love that you've managed to believe that lie after all this time. Perhaps you leave their chores to their discretion. Perhaps you tell them they can leave anytime. But they've been trapped by their ignorance, and those who dared to live beyond the Lost Cities had no knowledge of the danger of their situation. You also left them without a homeland, by your choice, not theirs, and your word that it was the request of their leaders."
"It was!" Bronte shouted. "Every decision we made was in an effort to protect your people. We can see now that there were flaws in our reasoning-but don't confuse the situation. The villains are not those who shielded you from the truths of these revelations. It's those who broke the treaty and unleashed the plague. Those who stand before you now ready to enslave you, not save you."
"It's true," Fintan told the gnomes. "Our offer isn't one of freedom. You will serve the ogres in Ravagog. But your loved ones will survive this infestation."
"I have a project for you," King Dimitar added. "One that requires your special talents. Serve me well and you have my word that I'll never unleash the drakostomes again."
"Why should we believe you?" someone shouted, and again, Sophie wondered if it was Calla's voice. "How do we know the cure is even real?"
"We're willing to prove it," Fintan said, nodding at King Dimitar.
King Dimitar flung the test tube toward the Pures, and the gnomes scrambled to catch it before it shattered.
"Test it," Fintan told them. "And as you watch it work, keep in mind that-by their own admission-the Council has tried to create a similar remedy for nearly five thousand years. They can't provide you with a cure. And you can't cure yourselves. We're the only ones who can help."
"You have one week to make your choice," King Dimitar added. "Either I will find you at the gates to Ravagog, ready to serve, or I will unleash the plague. And I wouldn't count on the protection of the elves. The distribution system is already in place. Hide here, and the drakostomes will contaminate the Lost Cities."
"A life serving the ogres is no life at all," Oralie shouted to the gnomes.
"Funny, I thought death from disease was far less of a life," Fintan corrected. "But as I said, it's your choice. You have a week."
With that, Fintan leaped away-but not before tossing his sphere of Everblaze at the Council. The silver stage burst into flames, and the Councillors scattered as the goblins rushed to pull them to safety. Others cried for the reserves of frissyn. Through the chaos, Sophie caught the briefest glimpse of King Dimitar laughing as he vanished into the ground.
"This was my mom's vision," Keefe said, shaking so hard Sophie knew he would collapse any second. His skin felt cold to the touch and his eyes looked glazed.
"What's wrong with him?" Dex asked.
"I think he's in shock." Sophie hoped that was all it was, but she couldn't help thinking about how Alden had looked after he first saw Prentice in Exile-when his mind first started to shatter.
Keefe had just seen his father. And King Dimitar pretty much confirmed his mom was dead. And Fintan had claimed that this horrible mess had been her idea. And thanks to Lady Gisela's note, Keefe knew she did it all for him.
"Keefe needs help," she told Sir Astin.
"I agree," he said. "Your disguises are also nearly gone. But it would be unwise to head straight to Alluveterre, in case the ogres are tracing any leaps."
"So where are we supposed to go?" Dex asked.
"With me," a sharp voice said behind them. "I can hide them at Sterling Gables."
Sophie spun around and found Timkin Heks. Her confusion morphed into disbelief when Sir Astin agreed.
"Wait," Sophie said as Timkin tried to take Keefe from her.
"It'll be okay," Sir Astin promised, holding a crystal up to the sunlight. "I'll meet you there as soon as I speak with the Collective."
He was gone before she could argue.
"Come on," Timkin said, dragging her, Dex, and Keefe toward his wife, who had a path already created for them.
"We can't leave Fitz and Biana," Sophie argued.
"Alden already took them away," Timkin said.
"And why should we trust you?" Dex asked, locking his knees to slow their momentum.
"Because Mr. Forkle isn't the only one with multiple names."
It took Sophie a second to figure out what he meant-and also who he could be.
She squinted at Timkin, trying to imagine him covered head to toe in white curly fur as she asked, "Coiffe?"
"Yes. Now come with me."