Ky’s crooked grin goes into full-throttle mode, dimples blazing.
When at last—at last—we reach a circular door that could have totally been stolen from the Shire, Countess Ambrose gives three long knocks followed by two short ones.
I half expect a munchkin to pop through a hole in the door and demand we state our business.
But of course one doesn’t. After a few beats the door swings inward, opened by a pudgy little man even shorter than I am. The countess lists her head toward him, then enters a chamber as round as the door. Its walls are made of glass, an entrance identical to the one we arrived through straight across from us. We are indeed beneath the city. If we’re not in the heart of the ocean, we’re somewhere near it. Sea surrounds us on all sides, the water murky for lack of sunlight. A round table fit for Camelot adorns the chamber’s heart. Whoa. Cool.
With a sweeping arm the countess says, “Won’t you all please take a seat?”
Ky pulls out a chair for me and I sit. Then Zane catches him by the shoulder. “This is yours.” He presses the mirrorblade, hilt first, into Ky’s hand.
“Thank you.” Ky sheathes his most prized possession and takes the seat beside mine. Our hands find the other beneath the table.
Zane stands at attention off to one side, the pudgy man who let us in flanking his left.
The countess takes her place behind one of the chairs.
I watch her. Something’s different. But what?
“She’s in her natural human form,” Ky thinks. “See how her height has changed? And her eyes?”
My own regard narrows as I consider the woman before us. Ky’s right. She’s a shorter, less glamorous version of her Siren self. Much more approachable, almost motherly. Her nails tap on the chair’s wood. When our gazes lock she gives me a smile far different from the one she offered on the shore.
Three knocks, then two short ones on the opposite door. The doorkeeper shuffles over, the short distance apparently winding him as he huffs and puffs around the table. When he opens the door, several people file in.
A burly man with a beard to his naval and a kilt hanging low under his protruding gut.
A dwarf-sized woman with a squarish head and thick glasses.
A couple in their late fifties, the man thin and balding and the woman exhibiting the rosiest cheeks I’ve ever seen.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice.” Spreading her arms like wings, the countess says, “Welcome to the Council of Reflections.”
Something is wrong with Joshua.
The consensus is unanimous.
“He’s clearly out of control.” The countess’s voice carries throughout the chamber. “I recognized it the moment he entered my court. There’s a madness in his eyes. A determination I’ve seen before.”
I wrinkle my brow. Raise my hand.
The countess offers a genuine smile. “You need not raise your hand here, Queen Eliyana.”
My leg shakes beneath the table and Ky steadies it.
I’m pretty sure this is the first time anyone has called me Queen. Highness and Majesty, yes, but Queen? With my name attached? Never.
“As ruler of the Second you are an equal member of this council. Not only that, but you are the Verity’s vessel. A woman has not held that role in a great many years. My grandmother two generations previous was the last female vessel.”
I tug my right sleeve down past my hand. I feel the Void pulsing where it does not belong. The countess knows Ky holds the Void, too, but she no longer seems concerned about him. Just Joshua. Why? My nerves manifest in fidgets and stomach cramps.
“Also,” the countess adds, “may I say I was quite impressed with your candor upon the shore earlier? Standing up for what is right and true is very rarely easy. You are indeed worthy of the title you bear.”
I tuck my hair behind my ears. Both legs jiggle now, and I smooth my sweaty palms over my thighs. “Um . . .” I glance at Ky, who nods his support. “Where have you seen it?” I’m afraid of her answer. “The madness, I mean.”
“In Jasyn Crowe, of course.”
The notion sends a shudder through me. Joshua? Like my grandfather? Impossible.
“Is it?” Ky counters in my head. “David suffers half the Void. It may have become too much for him.”
You suffer half and you’re fine.
“I’ve been cautious not to feed it. I practiced controlling my evil urges for years after Tiernan forced me to drink dark Threshold water.” He knocks my knee with his. “Besides, I had the Verity then, just as I have it now. In you.”
Joshua has me.
“Does he?”
His question stops me. I stare at my ringless left hand. The Verity keeps the Void at bay. Counterbalances it. Did I cause Joshua to go dark? Did my actions send him over the edge?
Some vessel of the Verity I’ve turned out to be.
“David has made his own choices. That’s not on you.”
The fury behind Ky’s thought is almost enough to knock me off my chair.
Instead I straighten, lean in. Don’t want to miss what the countess has to say. That’s why we’re here, after all.
“The question,” she continues, “is why would David go to such great lengths to steal from me?” She lifts one eyebrow and the corner of her mouth at once. “Before the quake, he was in his chambers. My Guardians have confirmed he took off shortly after with what he believes to be my most prized possession.” Elbows propped and fingers steepled, she taps her chin. “When I discovered he used you all to create a diversion, I immediately took it upon myself to rectify my error and remove you from the catacombs.”
“What did he take?” Ebony chimes in, though the signature irritation in her voice is absent.
The countess eyes her. “A Midnight Rose from the Garden of Epoch.”
A low murmur ensues, whispers rising from both council and crew.
“The place is legend,” Ky informs me alone, distracting me from the conversation. “Said to be guarded by a Fervor Dragon.”
Where is it?
“Where else?” When I don’t respond he adds, “Look around you. We have representatives from every Reflection save two.”
I consider the council members. The countess from the Fourth and me from the Second. Kilt-man introduced himself as one of five chiefs from, you guessed it, the Fifth, while the woman half my size hails as a governor all the way from the Sixth.
The elderly couple are not a couple at all, but a brother and sister from the Third. Caretakers who teach of the Reflections and Callings to those in the Third who have ears to hear. Ky is the one who shared with me how most people in the Third lack belief in the Void and the Verity. How the Called there must keep their abilities hidden.
My mind drifts to that November night two months ago when we walked through Wichgreen Village, sat on a bench, and talked after he saved me from Gage. I welcome the memory instead of hindering it as I’ve become accustomed to doing. Close my eyes and relive his embrace at the village gate. The sound of his voice when he told Gage never to come near me again.
“Earth to Em,” Ky says in my head. “I’m sitting right here. You can have the real thing anytime you wish.”