Any trace of sleepiness immediately vanished. As quickly as she could, Claire crawled out of her sleeping bag and out from the tent. There was a chill to the air, and frost laced the ground. Claire reached back to grab the Royalist cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders before hurrying to Thorn’s side under an apple tree. In his hands, he held what looked like two lumpy, loosely knitted ski hats.

“It’s not my best knitting,” Thorn said apologetically as he handed one to Claire. “I’m calling it a Make-a-Face.” From far away, the hat had looked navy, but up close, she could see it was a hodgepodge of color: pinks blending into yellows, which quickly swirled into a shocking green. But threaded throughout all the colors, there was a shimmering iridescence, like sunlight on spider silk.

Or, more accurately, Spyden silk.

“Will they work?” Claire asked, sticking a pinkie through a dropped stitch.

Thorn looked worried, but he nodded. “As long as we keep the anchor objects in our pockets, we should look just like the Malchains.”

Nerves settled heavily on Claire’s chest. That was the plan—her plan.

The Love Knot Tine was missing, which meant one of two things: either it had been smuggled out of Needle Pointe and was far away from Estelle … or Estelle already had it in her grasp.

Thorn, unfortunately, hadn’t known.

“Sorry,” Thorn had said after she’d explained everything last night, “even though I’m her heir, Her Majesty treats me like a little preamble. But just so you know, Queen Estelle already has the Stone Tine with her, I’ve seen her wearing it, and both the Spinners and Tillers have promised to present their tines on Starfell.”

“The Tillers, too?!”

Thorn nodded. “We got their message right before I left for Needle Pointe. The Forger Guild hasn’t decided yet, though!” he’d added hastily as dismay twisted Claire’s face. “If you tell the Forgers everything you just told me, I bet they would give the Hammer Tine to Nadia and help crown your aunt.”

But Claire doubted the grandmasters would believe her. As Thorn had just pointed out, even in Arden with all its enchantment, grown-ups were still grown-ups. They would never take a kid like Claire seriously … but Anvil and Aquila Malchain, famed treasure hunters, were another matter.

It was the Spyden silk that had given Claire the idea.

If a Spyden could weave itself disguises from silk, maybe a Spinner like Thorn could, too. Thorn hadn’t been so sure (after all, he wasn’t part spider), but he thought that if they each held an object that belonged to the person they were trying to illusion themselves into, maybe it would work.

Luckily for Claire, many of the contents in her pack—like the ReflecTent, her map, and a few clothes—once belonged to the Malchains. And the famous cousins didn’t need their belongings at the moment.