"They'll never forgive me," he whispered. There was no trace of the prankster Sophie used to know in his deathly pale face. Neither was he the angry, scared boy she had seen back in Ravagog, defiantly facing down King Dimitar

He was the Neverseen's toy, and they had pushed him to the breaking point. Now they were just playing with him for one last time. They thought he was gone. They thought they had driven all the fight out of him.

But Sophie knew better. She knew that she could fix Keefe again, because she couldn't bear to lose him. She thought she understood him better than anyone did, maybe even better than Fitz. He was the first person she'd revealed her secrets to, the boy who'd offered her his shoulder to cry on when they'd flown Silveny to the Black Swan's base. He was the elf who tried to be serious for her when she needed it, and the elf who made her laugh when she thought no one possibly could. He was the only one who'd ever endured more suffering than her. A few months ago he'd asked when his pain ended, when he got his magical fix.

That time was now.