“What do you mean?”
“She seems different lately. Distant. I know she has responsibilities, but…” Mairen wraps her arms around herself. “She used to stop and talk. Ask about the children by name. Now she barely acknowledges us when she passes through.”
My jaw tightens. Because Mairen is right. The woman wearing Bree’s face—because that’s who we’re really discussing—treats therefugees like subjects instead of people. Useful when they serve her purposes, invisible when they don’t.
“She’s been under a great deal of pressure,” I say carefully. “Leading isn’t easy.”
“Of course not.” But doubt lingers in Mairen’s expression. “It’s just… when she first came to us, it felt like she understood. Like she’d been where we were. Now it feels like she’s already forgotten.”
Pain flares beneath my ribs, sudden and searing.
The summons burns through my flesh like acid, and I barely manage to keep my expression neutral as the Council’s brand activates beneath my skin. Not now. Not when I’m finally starting to understand the full scope of what this deception is costing these people.
“I’m sorry,” I manage, pressing a hand to my side. “Council business. I’ll be back.”
Mairen’s face immediately shifts to concern. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” The word comes out sharper than intended. “Just… duty calls.”
I turn and walk quickly toward the sanctuary, needing to be away from witnesses before the magic takes hold. Behind me, I hear Mairen calling out something about hoping everything goes well, but her voice fades as the summons intensifies.
The magic wraps around me like chains, pulling me sideways through space. Light and shadow twist into a corridor of sound, disorienting and nauseating, until—
The Chamber of Five materializes around me.
Same black throne, same position of deliberate inferiority. But this time, the atmosphere is different from our last meeting. Where beforethere was agitation and threats, now there’s something that might be satisfaction.
Valdris paces near her throne, but her flames dance with controlled pleasure rather than agitation. Nyx looks more relaxed than I’ve seen her in months, draped across her throne with the lazy contentment of a predator whose hunt has succeeded.
Even Marcus seems less rigid than usual, his steel throne reflecting what might be approval.
Only Eris maintains her typical distant expression, silver eyes unfocused as she stares at something none of us can see.
“Thane,” Valdris says as I take my seat. “Your timing is impeccable.”
I settle into my black stone throne and wait. The shift from our last meeting—when they were ready to unleash Phil immediately—to this is jarring.
“We have an update,” Marcus announces. “A change in strategy.”
“Phil’s visit didn’t go as planned,” Valdris admits with obvious irritation. “His methods proved… less effective than anticipated.”
My blood runs cold, but I keep my expression neutral. “I’m not surprised.”
“However,” Nyx continues smoothly, “her influence continues to grow. More refugees arrive daily. Her following expands.”
“Which brings us to our decision,” Marcus says. “The Council has voted.”
Here it comes.
“The Ashen Oath will be reopened,” Valdris announces. “Effective immediately.”
The words hit me like ice, but I force myself to remain still. “I see.”
“Under proper oversight, naturally,” Nyx adds, her smile never wavering.
“What sort of oversight?” I ask carefully.
“We’ll need access to the chamber she unlocked,” Marcus explains. “Full access. No restrictions.”
