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“Have you heard from him?” Grayson asked.

“Not directly.” My smile felt bitter for some reason. “Hikaru wouldn’t contact me directly. Not that he reached out to Keir this time either. Keir called Warlock Holland yesterday to check on Hikaru.”

Grayson sat forward, his pale blue eyes attentive. “And what did he have to say?”

“Not much. Nikodemus Holland is a warlock of few words.”

“Sounds typical,” Grayson agreed.

“True enough.” I let loose a weighty sigh. “From what I understand, Hikaru hasn’t done anything…destructive.” I cringed, remembering some of Hikaru’s more memorable outbursts when he’d been younger. “Holland’s a good influence in that regard.”

“And the tail remnant?” Grayson asked. “Has Warlock Holland found a way to return the magic to Hikaru?”

“Not yet, but if there’s anyone who can, I think it will be Holland. He’s a very capable warlock.”

“And now head of the Warlock Council.”

I barked out a laugh. “Much to his dismay and utter disgust. It wasn’t a job he really wanted.”

Grayson’s nose cutely scrunched. “Understandable. I, for one, have absolutely no use for such nonsense. Most will-o’-the-wisps feel the same way. We’re too individual to want to band together and form a ruling party.”

And that was exactly what the Magical Usage Council was for—beings like will-o’-the-wisps. Some species’ numbers were too small to form a ruling body of their own. Others had absolutely no desire to do so. Still, conflicts arose, and it was beneficial to all those involved to have an oversight—a group of individuals who could look into the source of the discourse or offense. Our job was to find a compromise or hand out justice.

I could understand where Grayson was coming from. “I’ve no interest being in charge of the Magical Usage Council.”

“Wise dryad.” Grayson added a saucy wink for effect.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” I certainly hadn’t been very wise when it came to Tenzen Huxley.

Grayson shrugged as if he either didn’t care or wasn’t certain. Head tilted back, Grayson cracked his neck. “So, you ready to try this?”

My focus snapped back into place now that we were back on topic. “I’m ready if you are. Admittedly, I’m not certain what that entails.” It could be I wasn’t ready at all.

“Me either. I guess we’re winging it.” Grayson was trying to sound flippant. The hesitant hitch in his breath made me think otherwise. “How about we start small.”

That sounded reasonable. “What does that mean, exactly?”

Cool, blue flames tickled Grayson’s fingers, licking its way up his arms. “I always hear the call, but it’s louder when I activate my wisp side.” He flexed his fingers, fisting them before relaxing and stretching them again. A frown pulled at his lips. “The only problem is that in here”—he tilted his head, indicating the space we were sitting in—“I only hear the call of your soil. It’s not bad. In fact, it feels incredibly…good. Unfortunately, that’s not currently helpful.”

“Do we need to leave the conservatory or my quarters entirely?”

“Let’s find out.” Grayson popped up off the ground. I followed at a more sedate pace. Arms stretched out before him, Grayson headed back inside. Walking farther away from my soil, Grayson headed for the door. Eyes scrunched and lips little more than a thin line, Grayson looked at me and said, “Looks like we need to leave.”

“Should we go to someone else’s quarters?” I was certain Keir would be willing. Tabitha too. I wasn’t so certain regarding Jima. Ferrets were hoarders by nature. I could only imagine the amount of treasure Jima had collected over the years. Now living in Virginia with his mate, Frost’s rooms hadn’t been used in months. Most of our remaining members were scattered, doing the work the council was originally founded to perform.

Given our losses, there were a number of rooms available that were no longer in use. I didn’t relish the idea of going into one of those. None of us had had the heart to clean or clear them out. Instead, those individuals’ quarters sat empty—little more than shrines to the dead.

Grayson eased my mind. “I don’t think we should use anyone’s personal space. I’d probably pick up on something, but just like your rooms, the treasure would be theirs, not something Huxley left behind.”

There was always the chance Huxley had stowed something in one of our rooms. I nearly tripped over my feet when that thought floated through my head.

“There’s nothing else in your space,” Grayson said, his fingers barely touching my shoulder. “I would have felt it earlier if there were.”

“I… Thank you. I hadn’t even considered it before, and once I did…” I shuddered. “I don’t like the idea of Huxley leaving anything that close to me.”

“Perfectly understandable. I’m glad I could at least allay that fear.”

“So am I. After we’ve practiced a bit, it might be a good idea to check out those other rooms, just to be certain.” Starting with Keir’s.