“What is the lackie princeling doing here?” Bolt demanded. “He could be spying for Estelle!”

“No one here is lacking anything except for manners,” Sophie snapped, glaring at the grandmaster.

Bolt glared right back. “And I suppose you’re going to tell us the same story Nadia and Scythe just did, a nonsense tale involving lost descendants of Prince Martin and a Spyden?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m not,” Sophie said, grabbing Claire’s hand and pulling her forward. “She will. She’s the one who spoke to the Spyden, after all.” She gestured to Claire. As all eyes turned to Claire, she once again felt as she did before at the Tiller Council: confused and woefully out of place.

“Sophie,” Claire whispered urgently, “I’m not the story-teller—you are!”

“Go on, Claire,” Sophie whispered. “I believe in you.”

Scythe pushed back his wooden chair and, standing up, gestured for Claire to take his spot next to Nadia. Reluctantly, Claire slid in and took her place at the circular table, while Sophie, Nett, Sena, and Thorn scooted so that they stood right behind her. Looking around, she realized she recognized many faces: the director of Needle Pointe, Grandmaster Bolt, General Scorcha, and Grandmaster Iris, as well as a few other Tillers, and alchemists from Woven Root. But still …

“Where are the Gemmers?” Claire asked.

“An excellent question,” a Tiller grandmaster with squinty eyes piped up.

Nadia hastily spoke over her. “They’re fine, Claire, for now.” She pushed an untouched plate of snowdrop cookies toward Claire. They were shaped just like the little springtime flowers that sprang up in a unicorn’s hoofprints, but there was no way Claire could eat, not when it felt like her stomach was doing the polka.

“According to my scouts,” Nadia continued, “shortly after you left Stonehaven, Jasper challenged Carnelian for the grandmastership. Jasper lost, though the Gemmering he threw at Carnelian was destructive enough to break Estelle’s Mesmerization on all of Stonehaven. Estelle, however, is furious that the Gemmers won’t join her, and so she’s sealed them behind the Everless Wall. Anyone currently in there can’t get out—and no one can get in.” A troubled expression darted across Aunt Nadia’s face. “Supplies, we suspect, are low.”

“I’ve had enough of Gemmers,” Grandmaster Bolt growled, and the sound was so bearlike, Claire wondered for a second if it hadn’t come from the etched bear on his breastplate. “And I’ve almost had enough of this conversation, too. Scythe claims Nadia needs to be crowned, but with three of the four tines most likely destroyed in the magical earthquake, that question appears moot.”

“Actually,” Sophie said, and Claire felt the warm press of her sister’s hands on her shoulders, “it’s not. Claire?”