He had a point. Sophie once helped her human mom give medicine to their cat, and the amount of yowling that followed made it sound like they were force-feeding him boiling poison.

Grady dragged Verdi toward her trough. “Okay, girl—time to try something new.”

ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!

He took advantage of Verdi’s open mouth and jerked the lasso hard, face-planting her into the seeds. Cravettels scattered everywhere—but some must’ve hit their mark because the next second Verdi was crunching.

“See?” Grady asked. “I hear they taste like pterodactyl.”

Verdi crunched some more.

And . . .

SPIT!

“Wonderful,” Grady said, shaking off the slimy blue bits he’d been sprayed with. “Can you give me a hand?” he asked Brielle as Verdi tried to drag him into her pasture.

Brielle grabbed him around his waist and together they pulled Verdi back to the trough.

ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!

Crunch.

SPIT!

And so the feeding went.

But somewhere around bite number ten—paired with a head full of Sophie’s calming transmissions—Verdi swallowed and . . .

. . . licked her chops.

“If you would’ve trusted me from the beginning, you wouldn’t have wasted half your dinner!” Grady grumbled as Verdi wolfed down the remaining blue seeds. “But let’s hope this means we’ve found something she loves—and that it quells her urge to hunt. A flock of seagulls flew a little too close to her enclosure last week and a couple of them became Verdi snacks.”

Sophie shuddered. “I bet you wish you could Mesmer her.”

“That would be nice—and what a perfect transition for our important conversation!”

“Ugh, I already know what you’re going to say.”

“And what’s that?” Grady asked, wrapping the lasso around his palm and elbow to coil it back up.

“You’re going to tell me that inflicting is a dark power and that I have to be careful about how much I use it because it’ll make people afraid of me, just like people were afraid of you after you manifested. And then I’ll assure you that I’m just trying to fix a few weak spots. Biana and I had a run-in with the Neverseen’s Psionipath a few months back, and my abilities wouldn’t work through his force field. He was right there in front of us—and there was nothing I could do. I can’t let that happen again. Fitz thinks our telepathy would’ve been strong enough if we’d worked together as Cognates. But inflicting comes down to me—and if I’d trained harder, I might’ve been able to stop Ruy from getting away. So see? As Alden would say: There’s no reason to worry.”

“Actually, that’s not what I was going to say—though I appreciate the Alden quote. And I get where you’re coming from. I remember testing my ability against a Psionipath once, and it was incredibly unsettling. But you have to understand that there’s a cost to training. I learned that the hard way—and almost let my power ruin me.”

“Ruin?” Now he had her attention.

“You’ve seen how Fintan was led astray by his craving for flame,” Grady said quietly. “I . . . let myself get just as out of control. I didn’t kill anyone—but I started using my ability for any passing whim. If someone was slowing me down when I was in a hurry? I’d motivate them to clear out of my way. Or if I needed something and didn’t have time to go get it? I’d motivate someone to bring it to me. The real low point was when the Council refused to grant my request to investigate an issue with the trolls. They didn’t think I had enough evidence to justify the drastic measures I was proposing, and I was positive I’d find more than enough if they’d allow me to conduct the search. So I mesmerized Bronte into signing the scroll.”

“Did he catch you?” Sophie asked.

“Of course. And if he’d wanted to, he could’ve had me exiled. At the very least, he could’ve hit me with the full force of his inflicting. Instead he sat me down and shared how he almost fell into the same trap with his ability. He told me that after years and years of training, he reached a point where the slightest aggravation or annoyance would flare his temper, and he’d unleash his rage. His low point was when he lashed out at his mother.”

“So . . . what are you saying?” she asked. “I can’t use my ability? Why would the Council order me to train in it, then?”

“Because the only thing worse than overusing an intense power is not learning how to control it. It comes down to moderation. Inflicting is an incredibly valuable ability—and I’m glad you have it. But don’t let it take over your life. Bronte said he built up so much anger and frustration that he has to keep it all tangled up in a knot deep inside of him—a constant pressure he fights every day to keep from unraveling. And he told me he’s had to teach you the same technique because of all the emotions you’re battling.”

“Aren’t I allowed to be angry about the things that have happened?”

“Of course. And I know you want to protect yourself and your friends. I also know that you feel a tremendous responsibility to be the moonlark—whatever that even is. And those are much more noble reasons to push yourself than anything that motivated me. But that doesn’t mean the training isn’t eating away at you. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing there.”

He pointed to her hand, which was massaging the spot under her ribs.

“It’s not just a knot of emotions,” she told him. “It’s power I can draw on when I need it.”

Grady sighed and pulled her close. “I know. Just promise me you’ll try to let at least some of it go. If you hold on to everything, it’ll tear you apart.”

Sophie nodded, telling herself it wasn’t a lie.

She would try to let it go.

But not until she felt ready.

Right now, she had too many enemies—too many questions—too many worries.

Keefe gave her another huge one that night when she stretched out her consciousness for their nightly check-in.

FINALLY! his mind screamed. I was about an hour away from switching to my emergency plan.

Why? What’s happening?

I don’t fully know. Something huge is going down tomorrow. No one will tell me any specifics—but based on what I overheard, I’m pretty sure they’re going to Havenfield to snatch Grady and Edaline.