Another Royalist Claire didn’t recognize stepped forward. He wore boots of birch bark and beneath his cloak, she could make out a tunic outlined by thorns. Excitement rustled through the Tillers in the crowd as the man, too, presented a cushion with another gleaming arc: the Oak Leaf Tine. It, too, was placed on the pillar.

Finally, Jasper stepped forward and added the Stone Tine to the collection.

At least two, and possibly three of the crown’s four tines were within arm’s reach of Estelle. She lacked only the Hammer Tine.

Claire’s heart pounded. She needed to get to the front! She needed to break whatever Gemmer enchantment hobbled the unicorn.

“My dear Tillers and sweet Spinners, I thank you for your promised allegiance,” Estelle said as Claire pushed her way forward. “And now our friends the Forgers shall unite the tines at last, and with the crown’s new power, I shall be able to rid Arden of the wraiths—forever!”

The crowd let out a cheer again, but Claire noticed the Forgers remained quiet. They shifted slightly to reveal a man with a round girth and no-nonsense blond cut. He looked so similar to General Scorcha that Claire knew this Forger had to be related.

“Grandmaster Bolt,” Estelle said, extending her hand as if she expected it to be kissed. “I am grateful for your allegiance.”

“It’s a bit early for that.” Grandmaster Bolt snorted. “Before we pledge anything or crown anyone, the Forgers have questions—”

“Grandmaster Bolt,” Fray cut in, her voice cool, “you see the unicorn, do you not? Each moment you delay, another wraith could attack an innocent!”

“And another Forger’s blood could be turned to stone!” Grandmaster Bolt said firmly. He looked at Estelle, his gaze steady above his rather spectacular mustache, which made him look slightly like an armored walrus.

“We concede that you do appear to be the last queen of Arden, who ruled hundreds of years ago. However, for the last month, people of all guilds have been discovered frozen in their homes and in their fields, their blood turned to rubies by a rogue Gemmer. If that is not you, madame, then, who is it?”

There was a murmur of assent from the Forgers behind him. The grandmaster continued. “The Forger guild was not treated well by your family in the past, and now the Gemmers are again terrorizing us? Why should we trust you? Why should we give you the Forgers’ Tine?”

Fray opened her mouth in anger, her lips contorted in fury, but Estelle held up her hand, silencing the old historian. “I planned for this to be my token of appreciation, but instead, I’ll make it my promise to you.” She clapped her hands. “Bring out Claire Martinson!”