“Gryphin says there’s a new hedge maze in the garden, and a bunch of Royalists are guarding it!” Sena said triumphantly. “The unicorn is probably at its center!”

“Good chimera,” Claire whispered, and she thought she could hear the chink of metal as the creature must have started to proudly preen copper feathers. The sun had now fully set, but the voices around them had risen. It was only a couple of hours until the star shower would begin, but at least they knew now where the unicorn was trapped.

Claire took a deep breath. “We should go,” she said to Sena. “We need to find Sophie and Nett—”

She broke off as she realized her words were alone in the complete and sudden silence that had fallen over the ruins. Claire turned back to face the front and saw a line of hooded Royalists walking across the dais, led by the tall, black-haired, spindly figure grasping an obsidian spear tight in his hand: Commander Jasper of Stonehaven.

Claire inhaled sharply. When she’d last seen him, he’d worn the uniform of a member of the Stonehaven Wraith Watch, but now he was in Royalist-blue robes, four rings of white sewn around both sleeves, which meant he was no longer Commander Jasper but Grandmaster Jasper.

There were other Royalists she recognized as well: a large man with a club she’d seen on the Sorrowful Plains, a woman with a wreath of woven leaves, and the hunched figure of an old man, with a single bushy eyebrow—Nett’s grandfather, Francis Green. Each Royalist carried onto the dais an object that seemed to glow with an inner light: unicorn artifacts.

Claire caught a glimpse of a knife hewn from unicorn bone; a staff inlaid with a glimmer that could only be unicorn ivory; and a drum stretched tight with unicorn hide. There was more—oh, was there more. But Claire couldn’t stand it any longer. She let her gaze unfocus as, one by one, the Royalists piled the artifacts on top of each other until all that could be made out was a gleaming mound.

Just when Claire thought the horrible parade would never end, the last Royalist finally took the dais. Like the others, her cloak hood was down, so Claire could clearly see the ancient and water-thin features of Mira Fray. She took her place at the center of the stage. Beneath her robe, she wore a blue gown that fluttered, despite the fact that there was no breeze in the hall. The fringe and tassels on her dress undulated on their own accord.

Sophie. Claire needed to find Sophie!

But she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as Mira Fray’s voice rolled over the expectant crowd. “All hail the last queen.”