"We could start with a description of the delegates," I say pointedly.
His fingers tap once against the chair arm. "You are new to Xytheos. I have recordings showing their faces. Their shuttle was traced.”
“Then you can find out who they were working with,” I say.
"That would have been a simple matter—if they were still alive," he says. "I will speak plainly for you. This was not sanctioned by the Concord Council or myself. If Vorak's men carried Concord credentials, they were stolen or forged."
I inhale, intending to bring up the projection of the High Lord’s orders, but Rythar's hand closes around my arm. The warning is in his grip.
Don't push.
The High Lord regards us both, then leans forward, elbows on the table. “As Vorak is now dead, the Council’s concern is not with blame. It is with the pattern of escalation. If this cycle repeats, Xytheos will return to open war. I have long requested that he remain under your supervision at Reach’s End, Rythar. In his own territory. And now you have killed Vorak and claimed his territory for yourself. There are those who will be spurred to conflict by this.”
Rythar’s voice is final, almost bored. “His territory has always been part of my biome. The war with Vorak never stopped. We had periods of truce. Now the war with him is ended. I restored stability.”
The High Lord’s gaze flickers, but he doesn’t dispute it.
“Very well,” he says, sitting back. “We have another concern.”
He looks me in the eye for the first time here, and I feel the electricity race across me, stronger.
“Your communication prior to and during the abduction. You attempted unauthorized contact with another Starfallen. This is not permitted under Concord law.”
I freeze. He’s doing something when he looks at me.
Testing my truthfulness? Trying to read my mind?
I glare at him and work up my biggest grievance with his entire system. “Starfallen are supposed to be protected under your laws, but Vorak hurt Sophia. Themateyour systemgavehim.”
A flicker of annoyance flashes across the High Lord’s face.
“So where is Sophia? We never found her,” I demand.
The High Lord is so still that I can’t see him breathing. Then, with a flick of his hand, he signals to the armored advisor.
“It seems Sophia is quite resourceful. She is in safe custody,” he tells me, his voice light. “As is the other Starfallen. The one you call Maya. My bride.”
A shock runs through me at Maya’s name. “Maya?”
He nods. “She is physically well. Though she has also exhibited… troubling psychic effects. I am helping her recover. It has taken much of my focus. I have no other option than to care for my bride, but it is possible that my focus on her has distracted me from events such as Vorak’s.”
I open my mouth, but the words die on my lips, because what happens next floods my body with relief so sharp I almost fall to my knees.
They bring Sophia in.
The Council guards escort her through the door, one on each side. She’s leaner than I remember, her hair hacked shorter, jaw set tight. But she’s well. Whatever hurts she’s been through, they’ve healed. At least on the outside.
The world narrows to just her and me.
She sees me, and the steadiness of her jaw wavers for just a second.
The High Lord watches us with polite interest, but there’s something about the way his hands flex, the way his head tilts to catch every micro-expression.
“Starfallen Sophia Carter,” he intones, “you are summoned to account for your actions. Do you understand?”
Her face is set in stone again. “As much as you ever let me understand, sir.”
I get the sense that the two of them have been communicating in some way. Perhaps mentally.
