The glow stayed dim.
Her magic, after flaring up today, seemed to have gone out. Her shoulders slumped, and the door slammed open.
“Claire!” Sophie burst out as she ran into the room, a threadbare blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “Finally!”
“Finally what?” Claire asked, letting the earring drop onto her bed. Its light was out before it even touched the mattress.
“I have proof!” Excitement radiated from Sophie, as the blanket fell from her shoulders and tumbled to the floor in a graceful sweep. She looked as lit-up as the gems Claire was supposed to be focusing on.
“Proof of what?” Claire asked. A headache was beginning to throb behind her eyes.
“That I’m right,” Sophie said impatiently. “That we can’t trust these Gemmers. They had something to do with Queen Rock!”
“Sophie,” Claire began.
Sophie’s face suddenly loomed over hers, her dark hair falling forward and tickling Claire’s nose. “I know what you’re going to say. To stop with the theories. But this is proof.”
“That’s not what I was going to say, actually.” Claire swallowed. “I … overheard something tonight, after I left you at dinner.”
“What did you hear?” Sophie stared at her sister expectantly.
“I heard Jasper saying something about a …” She hated to admit it, but it was the truth. “About a war.”
“Claire,” Sophie said, sitting down hard on the bed across from Claire’s. “This is serious … Because I heard something, too—something I didn’t want to tell you, but …”
“Sophie, tell me!”
“I heard Commander Jasper talking to someone and he said, ‘She’s our secret weapon.’ ”
She looked at Claire triumphantly, but Claire frowned.
“Who’s a secret weapon? Queen Rock?”
Sophie shook her head emphatically. “No, not Queen Rock. Claire, you know you’re the only one who could have woken her. I think they’re talking about … you.”
Claire opened her mouth to say that that was ridiculous—she couldn’t get a rock to glow brighter than a single fairy light. How was she supposed to be a secret weapon?
They may think we’re trying to crown a new queen of Arden …
Carnelian’s words from earlier that evening came floating back to her, and Jasper’s reply.
War.
“Who was Jasper speaking to?”
Sophie shrugged and shook her head. “I didn’t get a chance to see! He was behind a fallen block and I was trying to get the goats back into the Citadel.”
“You mean,” Claire said, her anxiety receding, “you didn’t even see Jasper?”
“Well, no, but—” Sophie hurried on at the look on Claire’s face, “I know what Jasper sounds like. I can always tell when someone’s got a secret, and I just know Jasper is hiding something. And as I said, I have proof.”
Claire looked at the determined set of her big sister’s jaw. She shouldn’t have been surprised: whenever Sophie got something into her head, she wouldn’t let it go until she’d seen it through, like the time she’d insisted they had to hang a newly discovered pack of tinsel in all the corners of Great-Aunt Diana’s mansion to scare away any ghosts.
That had only been a few weeks ago, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Like Claire and Sophie had been the ghosts, revisiting a former life, while their real lives were here, now, in this world.
And very likely to end in a whole lot of trouble.
“All right,” Claire sighed. “I’ll come with you.” Because no matter how much trouble they might get into, she knew she couldn’t say no to Sophie.
After all, Sophie was why she was here in the first place.
CHAPTER
10
Sophie grabbed a candlestick and yanked Claire through the doorway, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous halls.
The sisters hurried by the pottery room, the polishing chamber, and then Terra’s office, where Claire saw soft diamond light trickling out. Her chest constricted. She really should be practicing—or sleeping. They continued to wind through the labyrinthine hallways, descending one marble staircase, then another, until finally they reached a wide door with a simple red rope tying the handles together: a forbidden wing.
For one moment, Claire thought that Sophie would turn away from the doors and duck down the brightly lit corridor to their left. But she knew her sister better than that. Sure enough, Sophie reached out, and tugged the bow.
“What are you doing?” Claire whispered as the rope slithered to the floor.
“I said I’d show you,” Sophie said, voice equal parts irritation and excitement. She pulled open the doors to reveal—more stairs. Sophie pulled a tiny lamp out of her tunic’s long sleeves and lit it.
An orange flame sparked in the blue darkness. It had been such a long time since Claire had seen someone make light without magic that, in this world of miracles and wonders, the ordinary seemed extraordinary. Even the outline of her sister’s form a few paces ahead of her seemed special, as though Sophie were a living flame dancing just out of her reach.
Claire wasn’t scared of the dark anymore, but still … unease prickled across her skin. As they spiraled down, she had the sense of walking into a cobweb—the sense of touching something obviously there, but impossible to see.
Soon, the air turned musty. It was an old and ancient smell, one that Claire had only caught once before, in Windemere’s dirt floor cellar. She breathed in deeply, remembering the time Dad showed her where he’d etched his name on a wall stone when he was her age and telling her that once, he had found an arrowhead from a time long gone not far from where she stood.
Dad. She missed him. She missed him so much that it hurt.
“All right,” Sophie whispered a few moments later. “Now don’t be scared.”
“Scared of w—oh.” Claire let out a soft cry.
They’d entered a large, circular room made of an inky black stone, twice as tall as the arched ceilings many floors above. But though they were so far beneath ground, it wasn’t empty. It was filled with people. Hundreds of them standing at attention, all facing the center of the room. Claire froze, her breath stuck in her chest as she waited for the people to turn around and spot them.
But they never did.
“They’re statues,” Sophie said, grabbing Claire’s hand and pulling her through the silent regiments. “It’s an entire army made of stone.”
Claire let out her held breath. The stone was an orangey-red color—a color that should have reminded Claire of desert sunsets, and cozy houses with orange roofs tucked along the seaside, but ever since that awful night in the Sorrowful Plains, when Claire had been forced to see her sister’s blood dry, the color had reminded her of terror and loss.
The soldiers were all in uniform, too, each one wearing a version of armor and holding a black stone spear. Obsidian, Claire recognized from her Gemmer lessons. It was a shiny rock that came from a volcano and could hold the sharpest edge. It was the rock that Commander Jasper and the rest of his Wraith Watch used to tip all their spears.
“Do you really think they’re planning something awful?” Claire asked. She stared uneasily at the standing warriors. In Rock History, Scholar Fossil had taught them that during the Guild War, everything within Stonehaven was made to serve two purposes: to provide beauty and protect the Gemmers. Claire had witnessed firsthand the strength of the Stone Knight … what would an entire army of stone knights look like? A deep chill moved through her. If these statues began to march, their stone feet would crush anything in their way. Wooden Tiller houses. Spinner boats. Human bones.
Sophie reached out to one of the warrior statues, tugging the stone sword from his hip. “Why else would anyone carve an army if they weren’t planning on starting a war?”
“Why else indeed,” a new voice said from the darkness of the stairs.
The sisters turned just as Jasper stepped off the landing and into the cavern.
The Commander of the Wraith Watch walked toward them. In the weak light, he looked taller than ever, and it took Claire a moment to realize he hadn’t grown, just merged with his long, skinny shadow that streamed out behind him and up the chamber’s wall.
“How dare you betray our hospitality? No, don’t say a word,” Jasper warned as Claire opened her mouth. “How dare you disturb the Missing? How dare you spy on Stonehaven?”
“We’re sorry,” Claire squeaked, her heart pounding against her chest so hard that she thought that maybe it was trying to escape. “We didn’t mean—”
“Stop it, Claire,” Sophie commanded, every inch the big sister. “You don’t have to explain yourself. We’re not the ones with a secret stone army!”
Jasper banged the spear butt on the ground, and previously hidden Gemglows flared. Claire’s eyes watered in the unexpected light. She squinted as Jasper hissed, “This is no army. This is the Missing, a war memorial commemorating all the Gemmers whose bodies were never recovered from the battlefield.”
Claire looked around at the warriors, repeating and repeating and repeating, like lines in a dictionary. All these people had died in the Guild War? Her mind swam. And this memorial only represented the Gemmers—what about the Tillers, Spinners, and Forgers?
“History,” Jasper said, voice as hard and cold as hail, “is not always pretty. Come with me.”
Silently, they followed Jasper back through the clay warriors and to the stairs, the tip of his obsidian spear glittering in the dim light like an eye.
No one saw them sweep through the Citadel’s halls. The evening bells had tolled long ago, and everyone was now sleeping. Claire wondered how long they’d been in the memorial … and how many hours were left before the morning chimes sounded and she was forced to endure another day of Gemmer classes.
But when they reached the door to their room, Jasper swept them past, and up another set of stairs.
“Where are you taking us?” Sophie asked sharply.
“To where you should have gone in the first place,” Jasper grunted, his pace quickening.
Sophie halted. “No,” she said, shaking her head fiercely as she pulled on Claire’s tunic. Claire stopped walking.
“My sister and I will return to our room,” Sophie said. “We’ll stay there. I promise.”
“Follow me,” Jasper insisted. “That’s an order. You won’t like what happens if you don’t comply with the Commander of the Wraith Watch.”
Sophie grabbed Claire’s hand, squeezing hard, but still she did not move. Jasper’s eyes narrowed and he slowly lowered his spear’s point until it was level with Sophie’s heart.
“Jasper?” Scholar Terra’s voice cut through the silent halls. “What are you doing with the princesses?”
The spear suddenly lifted as Jasper whirled around to face Terra, resplendent in a garnet bathrobe and matching sleeping cap.
“Taking them to the tower,” Jasper said gruffly.
Terra’s eyes grew larger behind her spectacles. “Who gave the order?”
Jasper shifted slightly. “Well, I did.”
Terra’s nostrils flared slightly. “Only Grandmaster Carnelian can give that order,” she said tightly.
“These girls were in the Chamber of the Missing,” Jasper yelled, apparently no longer able to contain his temper.
Terra swept forward, her eyebrows looking extra thick as they dipped beneath her spectacles. “And why was that, girls?”
“They were obviously searching for alternate ways to breach the Citadel!” Jasper exploded.
“We were not!” Claire said hotly.
“Then what were you doing?” Terra asked.
Claire didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t her idea to go sneaking around in the dark. She looked at Sophie, and the Gemmer adults followed her gaze.
Sophie looked back defiantly. “Claire heard Jasper talking about war, and then—”
“As Commander of the Wraith Watch,” Terra said, sounding weary, “Jasper is also the keeper of the memorial. No one else is allowed down there, except on the longest night of winter, when the Gemmer Guild mourns all that were lost. A time to again remember why the Gemmers shall never march to war again.”
“But,” Sophie protested, “I heard voices, too!”
“Terra,” Jasper said, turning away from them. “These girls are clearly trouble. Here they are admitting to spying on our conversations.”
“Be that as it may,” Terra said, “it is still the grandmaster’s decision, and we will trust him to make the right one. Go to bed, Jasper. I’ll see that the girls go back to their rooms.”
“Trust can be a dangerous thing in times like these,” Jasper warned.
Dangerous times—times when magic wasn’t strong enough to keep things from falling apart and Queen Rock was missing. She shivered.
“I see no reason to go against protocol in this instance,” Terra replied, calmly but firmly.
Finally, Jasper relented. “As you will, Scholar. Carnelian can make the final call in the morning as to whether the intruders will be exiled. But rest assured that as soon as he gives the command, I will personally make sure they are dumped outside the Citadel’s wall, never to impose on us again.” He walked quickly down the hall, and Claire didn’t breathe until he’d gone.
“Thank you, Scholar Terra,” Sophie said.
Terra turned to Sophie, her eyes bright with anger. “I don’t want to know why you were in the forbidden sections of the Citadel, but there is a reason those wings are off limits.”
“We won’t do it again,” Claire said, feeling bad for Sophie, even though it was her fault.
“You won’t have an opportunity to anyway,” Terra said. “I’m sorry to say this but Jasper is right. It is almost certain that Grandmaster Carnelian will support his motion to exile you both.”
Shame and panic collided in Claire’s chest. She knew she should have stayed in her room and practiced more! Instead, she’d wasted time, and now they were in trouble, and might, as soon as tomorrow, be kicked out of apprentice lessons forever. Her lip trembled and she tried not to cry.
Even Sophie, it seemed, was out of words.
Unable to meet Terra’s eyes, Claire looked down at the floor, staring at the veins of blush pink that swirled through the marble. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
The trip back to their bedchamber felt twice as long.
As soon as their door clicked shut, she whirled on Sophie. “What were you thinking?” Claire shouted.
Sophie crossed her arms, her face defiant. “What?”
“I told you I had to practice!” Panic made Claire’s voice rise, skidding out of control. “We came here to wake the moontears, not to spy on Jasper … and now I’m not sure if I will ever be able to, and maybe I’m not even a Gemmer princess after all!”
“Claire—”
“Calling a faint light from a ruby isn’t really progress, and all I made today was this lumpy ball of clay.” She thrust her hand into her pocket and shoved the misshapen marble under Sophie’s nose. “And no matter how hard I try, I just can’t—”
“Claire.”
Claire felt the pressure of Sophie’s hands on either side of her shoulders.
“You don’t have to worry about proving you’re the princess or not because you are,” Sophie said. “You woke the last unicorn. You saved my life.”
Sniffling, Claire took a few deep breaths, then nodded. Sophie let go of her shoulders.
“Claire … you did create something.” She plucked the clay ball from Claire’s palm and held it up. “It might not be a Grail, but it’s a perfect little clay egg.”
Claire rolled her eyes. Sophie thought she was helping, but she wasn’t. Not one little bit.
“If you like it so much, you keep it,” she said, getting into bed. “I’m giving up. Maybe Arden will be better off if we just go home.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve wanted, though?” Sophie’s words whipped out. “Oh wait, I f
orgot. Why would you want to go home when you’re a princess here?”
Claire stared at her sister, mouth agape. “You think it’s fun to be a princess? You think it’s fun to have everyone laughing at you and to be the worst in the class? You’re the one who got us into Arden in the first place, and now that we’re here, I’m just trying to do the right thing! It’s not my fault you’re not magic—stop being so selfish!”
The skin around Sophie’s lips had gone white. “You think I’m being selfish?” Her voice was quiet, but it held all the tension of an oncoming hurricane. “Well then, here’s my first act of not being selfish. You can have the room to yourself!”
And before Claire could utter another sound, Sophie had thrown the clay egg to the floor and slammed the door behind her.
With the back of her hand, Claire wiped away angry tears. Infuriating Sophie! How did she not understand? How did she not get it? And after all that she had been through—riding a wyvern, traveling through a stone forest, facing the Royalists—why did she still let Sophie convince her to do something she hadn’t wanted to do? Why did she still care so much what her sister thought?
And now Claire was mad at herself. She would never be able to sleep now. And in the morning, she’d have to face Grandmaster Carnelian and his multitude of rings.
She pulled the covers up over her head, and let her tears fill the hot darkness, hoping upon hope that tomorrow would never come.
CHAPTER
11
Tomorrow, it turned out, was here already. Claire’s eyes itched from lack of sleep and she rubbed them as early morning sunlight streamed into their room.
It was their last morning in Stonehaven.
She had spent the short amount of the night left tossing and turning, and when she wasn’t trying to count sheep—or goats, as it was nowadays—she’d been full of thoughts of Mom and Dad. She missed them. She had remembered what her parents had told her before fifth grade graduation, not so long ago, when Claire had been consumed with worries about middle school and leaving elementary school behind forever. Dad, who’d met her eye in the rearview mirror and smiled, said that if she was so worried, he could help her create a disguise so she could sneak back into fifth grade in the fall. Mom had reached behind from the front seat and patted her knee. “The end of one thing always means the birth of something new,” she’d said.
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