“Unfortunately I have no idea. They’re being extremely tight-lipped, since they need to make sure King Dimitar approves it before the sentence is given. Alden still feels that it will likely involve time at the Sanctuary. But he also warned me that there might be something else in addition, and judging by this invitation, I’m guessing it’ll be some sort of public reproval.”
“Do I want to know what that means?” she asked, trying not to envision stocks and whips.
“Basically they would deliver your punishment in front of everyone, along with a stern lecture.”
“That’s . . . it?”
Grady laughed. “And here I thought you’d be panicking.”
“Well, I don’t love the idea of being humiliated in front of my entire school. But compared to being expelled . . .”
“It’s definitely better,” Grady agreed, pulling her in for a hug.
She rested her head against his chest, letting the sound of his steady heartbeat calm her racing pulse.
Then Grady had to ruin the moment by adding, “It’s probably going to be a pretty humiliating experience, though, Sophie. People see you as a threat to the peace and safety of our world. If the Council’s not going to give them what they want, they’re going to have to come down very hard on you to prove they have you under control. I promise, everything is going to be okay. But I think we need to prepare for the fact that tonight is going to be . . . a very long night.”
The crowd at Foxfire was even larger than Sophie had been expecting.
It leaked out the ornate golden doors to the main amphitheater—where the inauguration was being held—and spilled into the grassy courtyard, crushing the bushes shaped like the different mascots and blocking the path.
A tiny, less-than-nice part of Sophie wished one of the glaring people would accidentally find one of the effluxers and trigger an epic stink blast—especially when she spotted Marella standing with Stina.
There was a pocket of space between them, like neither girl truly wanted to be with the other. But when Marella noticed Sophie watching her, she tossed her hair and turned away.
Sandor kept a loose grip on Sophie’s wrist, leading her straight to a security checkpoint outside the main entrance. A dozen elves in bright orange capes were scanning everyone’s registry pendants and dividing them into two lines, one leading up to the arena’s seats, and one to the floor level. Only noble families were given access to the floor—but not all of them. And as far as Sophie could tell, there seemed to be no reason for the division.
Her family was sent to the floor.
The crowd was thinner there, filled mostly with stern-looking elves dressed in very fancy capes. So Sophie was surprised to recognize a familiar face.
“Dex?” she called, rushing over to his seat in the second row, near the center. He was sitting right behind the seats marked for her, and his whole family was with him—even the triplets. Sophie had never seen Kesler and Juline dressed so fancy—though their capes were still far simpler than the finery that surrounded them. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Thought I’d be up in the common area, didn’t you?” he asked, his wide grin making it clear that he didn’t mind if she had. “Not anymore! They stopped us on our way in and told us that because one of my inventions would be featured prominently in the assembly, they wanted me nearby in case they needed any assistance.”
“That’s awesome,” Sophie told him, knowing it was the reaction he was expecting.
But . . . why would the Council want to demonstrate a weapon?
Kesler patted Dex on the back, his pride obvious—though he still looked like he’d rather be back in his lab coat, whipping together some sort of crazy concoction.
“Oh—before I forget,” Dex said, glancing over his shoulder as he dug into the pocket of his jeweled blue cape. “I finally had a chance to fix this.”
He handed over her iPod, which now had a small silver triangle sticking out of the base. “I still don’t get why you need this. But that receiver will pick up pretty much any kind of signal you want. And I made a few tweaks to the way it works, because, well, man that thing was slow.” He touched the screen, tapped one icon, and instantly the Internet loaded. “That’s what you needed, right?”
“Yeah—it’s perfect.” Sophie shoved it into her pocket before anyone could notice—though Sandor had already seen, and was giving her his Do you really think this is the time or place to have human technology out in plain sight? look. “You’re the best.”
“I know.”
She elbowed him, and he laughed.
But he turned serious as he studied the packed audience above them. “I heard the Councillors saying something about an announcement regarding you. Everything okay?”
“I hope so.” She said it with a smile, but what little she’d choked down of her dinner turned to prickles in her stomach.
Despite Grady’s assurances, she couldn’t help worrying that the Council was going to expel her. That wasn’t something they would need a unanimous vote for. Only a majority—and she wasn’t sure she had seven supporters.
She wasn’t sure she even knew seven of the Councillor’s names.
Still, it had to help that Dame Alina was the newest member to the Council. She’d seen firsthand how well Sophie did at school—surely she’d be able to come to her defense.
“It’s time to take your seats,” a snooty sounding elf told them, shuffling past in a silver-and-black cape. “The inauguration will begin in a moment.”
Sophie had barely settled into her chair next to Edaline—which was also conveniently in front of the steps for the stage—when the bells chimed a slow, tinkling peal, and the Councillors and their bodyguards appeared.
They weren’t wearing their usual gowns and capes. Instead, they wore identical silver suitlike garments, with simple, fitted jackets and tailored pants. Their long silver cloaks had hoods, which they all tossed back in unison, revealing matching silver circlets. The female Councillors even had their hair pulled back, making it hard to tell which Councillor was which.
The only one easy to recognize was Councillor Emery, whose dark skin gave him an air of importance as he welcomed everyone to the assembly. He explained that the inauguration would happen first, followed by a brief speech from the Councillors, which would conclude with an announcement—and Sophie was pretty sure he glanced at her when he said the last part.
Sophie reached for Edaline’s hand as the Councillors stepped back, leaving room for Magnate Leto to move to the center of the stage. His orange robes were a vivid flame among the muted silver of the Council, and when the floor beneath him lifted to create a pedestal, he looked like a torch—a torch that suddenly had an unearthly green glow as the lights dimmed in the auditorium.
“Foxfire,” Sophie whispered, realizing the glow was the same shade as the luminous mushrooms the academy was named after.
No matter how many times the elves explained the “illumination in a darkened world” analogy, she would never stop thinking it was weird to have a school named after glowing fungus.
Councillor Emery’s booming voice snapped her out of her spore-related musings, and he unrolled a golden scroll, reading a long, boring oath for Magnate Leto to repeat—most of which Sophie tuned out. All she really caught was the final stanza—and only because Councillor Emery raised his voice to make it echo around the auditorium.
“Do you swear to put the safety and success of your prodigies above all else—even your own life?”
“Yes!” Magnate Leto called, lowering into a deep bow as polite applause filled the arena.
One by one the Councillors dipped their heads, paying their respects to the new principal of Foxfire. And when they reached the last of the twelve, Dame Alina, she stepped forward, holding a narrow scepter with a glowing orange F on the end. For a horrible second Sophie thought they were going to brand the F onto Magnate Leto’s skin, like farmers did to cattle. Instead, Dame Alina pressed the glowing end against
the center of the pedestal and turned it like a key, making the room rain with glittering orange sparks.
The sight should’ve been breathtaking, but it reminded Sophie too much of the Everblaze. And from the squeamish looks on the Council’s faces, she clearly wasn’t the only one fighting flashbacks.
“That’s the key to Foxfire,” Edaline whispered as the pedestal lowered and Dame Alina handed the scepter to Magnate Leto.
He dropped to his knees and vowed that the light would never go dark on his watch. Then he pressed the key into the floor and the room flooded with light, so bright Sophie had to rub her stinging eyes.
By the time her vision cleared, the pedestal was gone and Magnate Leto had stepped back to the shadows.
“Under normal circumstances, our festivities would end here,” Councillor Emery said as the Councillors moved to center stage. “But we all know our circumstances are hardly normal at the moment. We thank you for your patience and trust, and we’re happy to announce that the gnomes have reported to us just this morning that the cleanup in Eternalia is now complete. Every speck of ash and refuse has been washed away—a truly incredible gift these remarkable creatures have given us, and we all owe them a debt of gratitude. In the months ahead we will owe a similar debt to the dwarves for their help rebuilding what we’ve lost. And we always owe a debt to the goblins for standing at our side, ready to serve and protect. All of these creatures support us—not just because they are generous, compassionate beings—but because they rely on us for something as well. Something that recently we’ve been failing to deliver.” He paused for a second, letting the audience lean forward in their seats, before he told them: “Peace.”
The word triggered a murmur in the crowd, and Councillor Emery waited for them to fall silent before he continued.
“We did not ask for the role of peacekeepers on this complicated, ever-changing planet. And yet it is the role we were born to take. Our unique gifts and abilities have enabled us to secure stability amongst our world, as well as the five protected kingdoms, for millennia. And despite recent turmoil, our role has not changed. Our rule will not fall to threats, or rebellion. Nor will we stand back and let insubordination go unpunished.”
Sophie was pretty sure every eye in the room was on her at that point, but she didn’t scoot down in her chair. Her legs didn’t even tremble as she stood at Councillor Emery’s command—but her heart pounded so hard it hurt as she climbed the stairs and took center stage.
“We’ve heard many cries for various punishments for the child you see before you—and I can assure you, we considered each one at great length. It’s an extremely complicated issue. On the one hand, many of the actions that have angered you were things Sophie didn’t necessarily choose. Others—while wrong—were largely the result of a lack of experience. We all must remember, Sophie Foster is not normal.”
Sophie closed her eyes as the words rattled around her mind. She knew they were true. Yet somehow that made them hurt more.
“This child—through no fault of her own—has been given abilities she neither understands nor is able to control. Pair that with a lack of education and experience in our laws, and we have the perfect formula for disaster. But do we blame an out of control cart for crashing? Or do we blame the driver?”
More murmurs and mutterings, many of them clearly blaming her. But Sophie was more freaked out by the realization that she had no idea where Emery was going with this. It didn’t sound like the kind of speech that was going to end in we order Sophie to scoop dinosaur poop at the Sanctuary for the rest of the year.
“Most of you have heard mention of a Black Swan group hiding in the shadows,” Councillor Emery continued, starting to pace now. “And many of you are aware that they’re the very organization responsible for the existence of the child standing before us. Perhaps you’ve even heard whispers of good deeds they’ve done to cover their bad. Rumors of future plans meant to save us all. And you probably haven’t known how to feel about this information. Neither have we. Such open defiance has never existed in our world, and our inherent desire to believe the best in our people has caused us to hold back, hoping to discover a missing piece that would plant this organization on the side of right. Instead, all we find is wrong.”
He turned to stare at Sophie, making it clear he included her in that wrongness, and she wished they’d given her something to hold herself steady. Her wobbly knees couldn’t carry her much longer.
“We promised you an announcement tonight,” Emery continued, “and it is this. Our vow to you that our primary goal is now to track down the members of this organization and punish them for their illegal actions. And we shall not rest until every last one has been captured.”
“What?” Sophie asked, not sure if anyone could hear her over the roar of the crowd.
She couldn’t tell if they were cheering or complaining. But she could see Grady on his feet—and Alden moving toward him from his seat a few rows farther back. Their mouths seemed to be saying the same thing she was.
“You’re going after the wrong group!”
If Councillor Emery heard them, he ignored it. Instead he called the crowd back to order, holding out his hands as Councillor Liora conjured a small flat black box into them.
“We realize this task we’ve sworn to will be no easy matter,” he said, moving slowly toward Sophie. “We’re hunting a group who’ve become extremely skilled in the art of hiding. Nevertheless, we will find them. And in the meantime we will do everything we can to minimize the damage they’ve done to our world. Which is why we’ve created this.”
He opened the box, pulling out a silver circlet with three flat stones set into the curled pattern. Something about the design looked familiar, but Sophie’s mind was spinning too fast to make the connection.
It wasn’t until he raised it over her head that she realized what was happening.
Two of the Council’s bodyguards rushed to her sides, holding her in place as Councillor Emery clamped the silver band around her forehead.
The circlet was Dex’s telepathy restrictor.
The Council was trying to take away her abilities.
FIFTY-EIGHT
SOPHIE COULDN’T THINK THROUGH THE PAIN.
The world had twisted into a smear of color and light—echoing with pounding, pulsing screams. She could feel her body being bumped and jostled, but she couldn’t tell what was happening. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was still awake—and she hoped she wasn’t.
If this was reality, she wasn’t sure how to survive it. Except to retreat from the agony.
She pulled her consciousness back, following a feint trail of warmth to the nook in her mind. Soft gray fog curled around her and she buried herself in it, sinking deeper and deeper until the last of the noise faded.
She was safe.
Happy, even.
Content to curl up tight and stay there forever.
But reality came crashing back, flooding her senses with light and sound as someone shook her awake.
“Sophie, can you hear me?” a deep, accented voice asked. “Nod if you can hear me.”
Sophie nodded, triggering a chorus of relieved sighs.
Arms wrapped around her then—a tangle so thick, she couldn’t tell how many people were holding her. She leaned into them, soaking up their strength and support until she could open her eyes.
Blurry shapes slowly morphed into faces.
Too many faces.
It took her brain a second to work out that some of them lived only in mirrors, and another second after that to recognize Dame Alina’s old pyramid-shaped office. In front of her stood Elwin, Tiergan, and Alden, looking stressed and weary as they studied her. Grady and Edaline hovered behind them with tear-stained faces, along with a ghostly pale Magnate Leto. Behind them were all twelve Councillors—none of whom seemed to want to look at her. And cowering behind everyone was a crying, trembling Dex.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled when Sophie met his eyes. “I didn
’t know—I swear. I thought—”
“There is nothing to apologize for,” Councillor Emery interrupted. “Obeying the order of the Council is never to be regretted.”
“In this case it is!” Grady shouted. “You may be able to ban Sandor from this room—but I will defend her when he can’t. How could you even think of doing this to an innocent child?”
“If she’s so innocent,” Councillor Emery said calmly, “why did she illegally visit a Forbidden City yesterday?”
“How did you . . . ?” Sophie started to ask, but her voice trailed off when she remembered the registry pendant clamped around her neck.
“Yes, Miss Foster,” Councillor Emery said as she reached for her necklace. “We do have ways to keep track of you. We choose not to use such methods very often, to protect our people’s freedom. But imagine our disappointment when we checked yours yesterday—during a particularly heated debate regarding your punishment, no less—and found you had visited your former residence. We do not know why you went there, but we can only assume it had something to do with the Black Swan. Which is why we decided on a more drastic punishment.”
He held out the telepathy restrictor, no longer clamped around her head—which explained why she could think again.
She shrank back in her chair, and Grady and Edaline moved in front of her, shielding her behind them. Alden and Tiergan moved to their sides.
“You’re not getting anywhere near her with that,” Grady warned.
“The matter has already been decided,” Councillor Emery said calmly. “And interfering with the Council’s decisions is a treasonous offense.”
Grady snorted. “Not if the Council’s gone crazy.”
“Watch yourself, Lord Ruewen,” one of the Councillors Sophie had never heard speak before told him. “We have dwarves on standby, ready to haul any resisters off to Exile. We will not tolerate such disrespect.”
“But can you tolerate cruelty?” Alden asked quietly. “You saw how the device affected her. She was practically catatonic.”
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