“Exactly,” Tam agreed. “You’re with me on this, right?” he asked Linh.

Linh shook her head. “Remember how people have doubted us? Their murmurs and snipes about the strength of our powers. Their outrage when you left with me after I was banished. Not to mention the mistrust because we’re twins. They had reasons for their feelings. Did that make them right?”

“No—but their reasons are stupid,” Tam argued.

Multiple births were rare in the elvin world, and for some reason that bred judgment and scorn. Sophie would never understand how the elves could be so brilliant and sophisticated and still have so many strange prejudices. They didn’t care about skin color or money or appearance. But they condemned anyone without a special ability, or anyone with unusual genetics.

“And you think that’s the same as joining the enemy?” Tam asked.

“No, I think it means we shouldn’t pass judgment until we see how things play out. Actions never tell the whole story. Good can be done for the wrong reason. And bad can be misunderstood.”

“Fine,” Tam grumbled. “But if he comes anywhere near me, I’m siccing the dwarves on him until he lets me take a reading. And you guys should be keeping us way better updated about this stuff,” he told the Collective.

“The incident at Foxfire was only yesterday,” Mr. Forkle explained. “But I realize you’re both feeling very separated—and that’s because you are.”

“Maybe it would be easier if we returned to the Lost Cities,” Linh told her brother.

“You really want to go back to Choralmere?” he asked. “You want to deal with Mom panicking that you’re going to flood the house every time you gaze at the ocean? You want to hear Dad constantly lying about us, like our very existence brings him shame?”

“Of course not,” Linh told him. “I just—”

“I might have a solution for you,” Mr. Forkle interrupted. “I’ve been in talks with the Council about a new arrangement that would allow you to visit the Lost Cities regularly. But nothing is official yet, so I’m going to need you—”

“Let me guess,” Tam jumped in, “You want us to be patient?”

Mr. Forkle smiled. “I know I ask for that a lot. I also demand it of myself. I’ve often said that it seems we’re attempting to drain the ocean with a leaking spoon. But even if that’s the case, we can either give up, or we can continue taking it one dripping spoonful at a time. And this”—he pointed to the symbol Sophie had projected—“is a pretty important spoonful. We need to find out what it means.”

“I can ask Keefe,” Sophie offered. “Though he didn’t recognize the black disk or the symbol when I showed it to him last night, so I doubt he’ll be much help.”

“I can think of someone who might know more about the symbol,” Fitz mumbled. “But . . . you’re not going to like it.”

Sophie was about to ask who when she figured it out on her own.

She groaned. “Please tell me you’re not asking us to trust Lord Cassius.”

TEN

WOW,” LINH WHISPERED, staring at the stark crystal skyscraper looming over them. “This is where Keefe grew up?”

“It explains a lot, doesn’t it?” Sophie mumbled.

Mr. Forkle hadn’t been sure if it would be wise to bring the twins on this excursion—but Sophie had insisted. Maybe it would help Tam understand where Keefe was coming from.

Their feet crunched on the gravelly ground as they crossed under an intricate arch with the word CANDLESHADE woven into the iron. Lord Cassius answered the golden door before Mr. Forkle finished knocking, looking pristine in his intricately embroidered blue cape. He reminded Sophie far too much of his son—same blond hair and ice-blue eyes. Same handsome features. But he was the version where all the fun had been squeezed out and only the sour was left.

Even his smile was creepy—oily and insincere as he said, “Why, Miss Foster. I almost didn’t recognize you with your hair back. But it’s always a pleasure to see you. And you as well, Mr. Forkle. And Mr. Vacker.” His eyes flicked past Sandor and Grizel without acknowledging them and settled on Tam and Linh. “And who might our surprise guests be?”

“This is Tam and Linh Song,” Mr. Forkle told him, ignoring Tam’s scowl at the use of his last name.

“Song?” Lord Cassius repeated. “You’re Quan and Mai’s children?”

“Their twins,” Tam corrected.

Tam’s father had tried to convince people that Tam and Linh were a year apart in age, but they refused to play along.

“I see the resemblance now,” Lord Cassius said, studying the twins more closely. “I know your father well. He was a Level ahead of me at Foxfire, but we often studied together. We still meet for drinks in Atlantis sometimes.”

Tam glanced sidelong at Sophie. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that.”

“Do your parents know you’ve joined the Black Swan?” Lord Cassius asked.

“I don’t see why they would,” Tam told him. “And for the record, we haven’t sworn fealty.”

“Yet,” Linh added quickly.

“I know the feeling.” Lord Cassius had volunteered to join the Black Swan himself—which made Sophie want to vomit on his jewel-encrusted shoes. She didn’t care that he’d been searching his wife’s possessions for clues to her Neverseen activities. Finding a bunch of maps and a leaping crystal kit would never make up for the way he’d treated his son.

“Oh my,” Lord Cassius said, fanning his face, “I always forget how intense your emotions are, Miss Foster. It’s such a strange sensation to feel them wafting through the air. A bit like static electricity, only pricklier.”

Most Empaths needed physical contact to take a reading, but for some reason Keefe and his father were different—at least when it came to Sophie.

“Well,” she said, hoping he could feel the massive waves of disgust she was sending his way, “some things give me a stronger reaction than others.”

Abuse came in all forms—and while Lord Cassius had never hit his son, his constant belittling criticism had done plenty of damage.

Not surprisingly, he didn’t bother asking for an update on Keefe as he stepped aside to let them in. The sparse foyer felt as cold and welcoming as a morgue—black floor, sleek walls glinting with sparks of blue balefire, and a silver staircase that spiraled all the way up to the two hundredth floor.