In fact, Claire hardly noticed anything at all, until the creak of a door reached her ears, and she realized she was not alone.

Chapter Three

CHAPTER

3

Claire struggled to sit up, her waterlogged tunic clinging uncomfortably to her. As she pushed herself onto her forearms, she clearly saw the pink of her skin. The Invis-Ability had completely washed away, leaving her as exposed as a shell-less snail. In fact, with the rain clouds still thick over the setting sun, all color seemed to have vanished as well.

And maybe that was why she hadn’t immediately noticed the little gray house perched precariously on a rock jutting into the hidden bay. It was more of a squat tower, really, with beach stones haphazardly stacked on top of one another like Dad’s stack of overflowing books. A tiny staircase of driftwood wrapped around it, leading to a landing a few feet above the still agitated waves—and an opened door.

Claire scanned the pebbly beach she’d washed up on. She didn’t see anyone. All there seemed to be was this house, her Hollow Pack flung a few feet away from her, and the sharp rock wall that shielded her from the eyes and ships of Needle Pointe.

Which meant that whoever had opened the door must still be inside the house, watching her. Could it be a Spyden?

Claire tried not to be afraid. After all, finding a Spyden was why she’d come all this way. To save Sophie.

On that night on the Sorrowful Plains, which seemed so long ago now, Sophie had been pierced by a Royalist’s arrow, and the unicorn Claire had released from Unicorn Rock had healed Sophie. Or so they thought. It turned out, however, that the unicorn had changed Sophie instead, setting her on the path to becoming one of its own kind: a unicorn.

But why—that Claire still did not understand. Or how.

Would Claire wake up one morning to find that her human sister was completely gone, replaced by the creature of starfire she’d only glimpsed once before? Or would it be a slow and gradual change, with all of Sophie’s hair turning creamy white first, and then … what—a delicate crystal horn protruding from her forehead?

Claire shook her own head, wincing at the thought. She knew lots of girls who wouldn’t mind becoming a unicorn. She’d been to plenty of unicorn-themed birthday parties in the past, and even her own Language Arts folder had a picture of a unicorn galloping in the moonlight. But that was just it: unicorns belonged on invitations, on cupcakes, and in magical worlds—not in her family.

And Queen Estelle believed that the only place unicorns belonged was on a shelf—as a hunting trophy. Unicorns were creatures of pure magic, and unicorn artifacts crafted from their manes, their tails, their hides, could make guild magic stronger.