“So he’s back in charge of security,” Keefe said, his voice as dark as his mustache.
“He regained his title recently,” Sir Astin explained, “after those maps—and the guards he recommended—saved the alicorns from the Neverseen’s latest attempt at capture.”
“Wait—what?” Keefe asked, and Sophie was forced to tell him what little she knew.
“Great,” Keefe grumbled. “Guess I can add that to the list of awesome things my mom is doing ‘for me.’ Or was doing for me. Or . . . whatever.”
Sophie reached for his hand, hoping he wouldn’t pull away. He twined their fingers so tightly it cut off her circulation.
“Don’t look now,” Dex whispered, “but I spy Stina.”
Sophie followed the tilt of Dex’s head. “Ugh—you have to be kidding me!”
Of all the people they could’ve ended up standing near, they had to wind up right by the Heks family? Stina had tamed her frizzy hair into a sweeping braid and wore a loose gown that made her look much more statuesque than gangly. But her scowl definitely hadn’t changed.
“Is that Marella?” Dex whispered, pointing to a petite girl next to Stina, leaning against an arch, unraveling one of the tiny braids in her long blond hair.
Marella had befriended Stina not long after her falling out with Sophie, and Sophie was sure she’d done it to spite her.
“We should be careful,” Sophie said, pulling Dex and Keefe deeper into the shadows of their archway. “If any of them recognizes us, I’m sure they’ll turn us in.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to judge the Hekses—or Miss Redek,” Sir Astin said under his breath. “The Heks family has proven there is more to them than we once thought. And as for Miss Redek, has she never told you about her parents?”
“No,” Sophie admitted. Dex shook his head as well.
Marella gossiped about everyone except herself.
Sophie stole another glance at the couple standing with Marella. Her dad had wide ice blue eyes like his daughter, and her mom had the same unruly hair. They looked normal enough.
Sir Astin leaned closer. “Her mother suffered a traumatic brain injury when Miss Redek was barely a toddler. It’s unclear exactly what happened—though many suspect an abundance of fizzleberry wine came into play. All we know is that Lady Redek fell off the balcony of their house and cracked her skull. Elwin did all he could, but some wounds cannot fully heal. At times her emotions get overloaded. I remember one conversation I had with her, she laughed, cried, and screamed at me in a matter of minutes. She drinks elixirs to manage it, but it still takes its toll on her family. In fact, young Miss Redek keeps trying to manifest as an Empath in hopes that she can help her mother gain further control. A couple of months ago we thought her mind had finally cooperated, but it turned out to be a misunderstanding.”
“A couple of months?” Sophie whispered, realizing that synced perfectly with the time Biana manifested as a Vanisher.
That was the day she’d first noticed Marella not acting like herself—and not long afterward, her and Marella had their big fight. She’d thought Marella might’ve been jealous because she’d said once that she wanted to be a Vanisher too—but that must’ve been something Marella had made up to cover her secret. Now Sophie wished she could run over and apologize for not understanding. Or go back in time and be a better friend.
An immense fanfare reminded her why they were there, and her pulse sped as all twelve Councillors glittered onto the stage. Their jeweled cloaks and circlets glinted in the sunlight, but this time it didn’t make them look regal. Compared to the gnomes in their overalls and grass-woven dresses, the Council looked frivolous and cold.
Oralie stood between Bronte and Terik, and Sophie could see the unease in their stance. Even Councillor Alina’s confident smile was missing.
“Thank you for coming today,” Councillor Emery said, his eyes focused on the gnomes. “As promised, we’re here to answer your many questions. But we’re going to start with the main one. Why were you kept in the dark about the plague? We did have a reason—one that was not actually our choosing. We kept the secret because your ancient leaders begged us not to tell you. In fact, it was their dying wish.”
He paused to let the news rustle through the crowd. Even Sir Astin seemed surprised to hear it, and no one seemed to know how to react.
“Keeping our promise has been one of the greatest challenges we’ve ever faced,” Emery continued. “But we felt it was important to honor the word we gave. We still feel it’s important, which is why we must at least ask that you leave the matter here, trust that we’re following the wishes of your leaders, and return to your lives.”