Come on, Sophie’s voice groaned in her head. You know what you heard in the Petrified Forest. Estelle told you herself that the only useful unicorn is a dead unicorn. Trust yourself!

Estelle stood before the cheering crowd, letting their joy wash over her. Her gown, encrusted with blue sapphires so dark they were almost black, glittered in the torchlight. Her dark curls had been swept into a silver net, but her head was empty of a crown. She expected a coronation.

The queen held out her hand, and Jasper strode across the dais, his spear in one hand and a cane with a ram’s head handle held in the other. Grandmaster Carnelian of Stonehaven’s old cane. He presented it to Estelle with a flourish, and when she accepted it, he bowed low, once to her and once to the tranquil unicorn. Claire’s thoughts continued to race, trying to find a reason—any reason—the unicorn would ally with Estelle, and she finally landed on “Mesmerization,” which she whispered to Sena. “Like how Estelle tricked all of Stonehaven.”

Sena grimaced. Unicorns were creatures of pure magic. If Estelle was so powerful that she could manage to bend even a unicorn to her will, then what chance did Claire, her friends, and Nadia have against Estelle? The only thing that slightly comforted Claire was the fact that the Spyden had said—

Claire breathed in sharply. The Spyden had said that only a queen can defeat a queen … not that she would.

“We need to break Estelle’s control,” Sena said harshly, unaware of the storm in Claire’s mind. “How does she do it?”

“With—with a Mesmerization Opal,” Claire said. “She’s probably wearing one.”

“Then, we need to get closer.” Without waiting for Claire’s agreement, Sena threw herself into the crowd, carving a path with her pointy elbows. But they weren’t the only ones trying to reach the front. The crowd pressed forward, wanting to be closer to the promised queen. Closer to the unicorn. A chant broke out around them, swelling like a wave that would never break: “Long live the queen! Long live the queen!”

Finally, when Claire thought that the frenzied excitement of the crowd might crush her, Estelle raised her hands. Her sleeves fell back to reveal pale wrists, and the entire cheering crowd immediately fell silent. At last, Estelle d’Astora addressed her court for the first time in three hundred years: “Welcome.”

The single word hit Claire like an arrow, and she stumbled to a halt. Until now, Estelle had been far enough away that she could have been a stranger. But when the queen spoke, her voice, magically amplified, was both familiar and comforting. It sounded of sing-alongs in Starscrape Citadel, encouragement next to a crackling fire, and a warm chuckle when Claire had finally made a ruby spark. It was Scholar Terra’s voice that resounded over Hilltop Palace.