“You honestly want to jeopardize the security of these proceedings?” Oralie asked, ignoring the protocol of letting Councillor Emery do the speaking.

“No. I want him to be placed under heavy guard in the small storage outbuilding in the main courtyard,” Mr. Forkle said calmly. “And he can remain there until the morning negotiations, in which case he’d be brought into the meeting. Keep as many guards on him as you like—and lock him back in the outbuilding when the proceedings are over. There’s no reason for him to attend the galas or dinners.”

“There’s no reason for him to attend anything at all!” Alina argued. “He’s a Pyrokinetic.”

“Yes, and lumenite doesn’t burn,” Mr. Forkle reminded her. “Isn’t that why the Ancient Councillors chose it when they built this fortress?”

Oralie stood, her fragile hands gripping the end of the table. “I can’t believe anyone is considering this. That lunatic is bent on destroying everything we hold precious. What can we possibly gain from allowing his voice to be heard?”

“Perspective,” Empress Pernille told her. “For millennia we’ve been told there’s one way—the elvin way. And now, it appears the elvin way is divided. I find it hard to believe I’m the only one who’d like to know what these other elves have to say—especially since one alternate elvin perspective is already being presented by the Black Swan. Why not hear the other?”

“Because he’s a murderer!” Oralie shouted.

“So am I, by elvin standards,” Queen Hylda said. “So are most of us. Death goes hand in hand with war.”

“You’re in favor of Fintan joining us?” Councillor Bronte asked the goblin queen. “After his involvement in what happened with Brielle?”

“It’s because of his involvement in Brielle’s death that I would like to hear him out. I’d like to understand what her life was taken for.”

“None of us are saying we’ll agree with his logic,” King Enki added. “We’d simply like to hear what that logic is. Isn’t it our responsibility to consider the issues from every possible side before we render a decision?”

Sophie was surprised to realize King Dimitar was staying silent during the debate. And he glared at those supporting Fintan’s admission with a murderous sort of rage.

The Councillors looked just as disgusted. But—ever the diplomats—they put it to a poll, making it clear that the Council’s vote would only count for one. Mr. Forkle was given a vote, since he was a leader of his order. Sophie and Edaline were excluded as observers. The final verdict: four to three in favor of letting Fintan attend.

“Well,” Councillor Emery said, massaging his temples. “It appears we have some adjustments to make. So we ask that you please return to your rooms—and understand that you will not be able to leave them for the rest of the night. We need to ensure everyone’s safety as we drastically amend our protocols.”

Righty and Bunhead shuffled Sophie and Edaline away from the crowd, leading them through a set of balefire-lit halls into the bowels of the fortress.

As soon as the door closed to their suite, Edaline pulled Sophie close. “It looked like you and Mr. Forkle were having a telepathic conversation while everyone argued. Please tell me what what’s going on. I promise I’m strong enough to handle it.”

For most of the time Sophie had spent with her adoptive family, Edaline had been the fragile one, broken by her grief over losing Jolie. But there was no weakness in Edaline’s voice or any tremors in her hands as she rubbed Sophie’s back.

So Sophie leaned closer and whispered, “We think the Neverseen are going to attempt a prison break, and we’re trying to figure out how to stop them.”

Edaline nodded slowly. “And I’m assuming Mr. Forkle didn’t ask the Councillors to move the prisoners, because you’re worried that’s what the Neverseen want?”

“Actually, I think he just knew the Council would never go along with it,” Sophie admitted. “But your reason is important too.”

“So what does Mr. Forkle want us to do?”

“No idea,” Sophie admitted, not missing the way Edaline had included herself in their planning. “It’s so hard to strategize when we don’t have any idea what they’re thinking. Everything we do could play right into their hands.”

“Do you think Keefe will have any insights?”

“If he does, they’ll probably be super vague and warn us about the wrong thing,” Sophie grumbled. But on the off chance, she decided to reach out to him.

Just the girl I wanted to talk to, Keefe told her.

No time for banter, Keefe—Fintan just talked his way into the Peace Summit. I’m pretty sure he’s planning to break Ruy, Gethen, and Brant out of the dungeon. In fact, I’m betting Brant and Ruy are a part of it.

Keefe’s mind unleashed a bunch of words she’d get in trouble for using.

I take it that means we’re guessing right? she asked.

You might be. I know Fintan’s off on a mission right now—and Alvar told me they’ve been building toward it for a while. He said it would make the world lose all faith in the Council.

Sophie’s stomach did a twist-flip move that made her really wish she hadn’t eaten so much dinner.

Ugh, I’m the biggest idiot on the planet if that nightmare at the Pallidrose hideout was a ploy to get them captured, Keefe mentally grumbled. His thoughts strayed to his burned hand, and Sophie could tell the nerves still hurt him, even though the skin had healed.

It was probably her cue to tell him he wasn’t an idiot—but he had done some pretty idiotic things.

Then again, so had she.

If getting arrested was part of their plan, we all played right into it. All we can do is hope we’ve caught our mistake with enough time to stop them.

And I’m assuming you’re at the summit? he asked. Never mind, of course you are. You’re probably right where it’s most dangerous.

I am, Sophie said. And so is Edaline.

More inappropriate words pounded through his head. Why would the Council let Fintan in? Didn’t they learn after what happened to Kenric?

It wasn’t their decision. Some of the other leaders wanted to hear what he had to say. And Mr. Forkle figured it was safer than letting Fintan anywhere near the cells.