“Grizel is doing a perimeter sweep,” Sandor told her.

Sophie had bigger questions. “Does anyone know what happened?”

“No. But I’m guessing this is why Mommy Dearest gave her little Legacy Boy that weird ability that starts with a P,” Ro muttered. “What’s it again? A Polystar?”

“What I saw had nothing to do with being a Polyglot,” Councillor Alina argued. “Polyglots simply have a capacity for language and intonation. They can’t affect emotion.”

“Does that mean Keefe’s a Beguiler?” Fitz asked, and Sophie’s mouth turned sour.

She didn’t know much about the ability—only that Councillor Alina was one, and that Beguilers could use their voice to affect what people were feeling.

But the thought of Keefe being able to do something like that sounded… complicated.

Alina shook her head. “Beguiling is about suggestion—persuasion. Planting thoughts in someone’s mind to guide them to a desired response, preferably without them even realizing what you’re doing. That’s not what happened here.”

“How much did you see?” Elwin asked, straightening his glasses as he stood.

“Not much,” Oralie told him.

“But enough,” Alina insisted. “We arrived right before he gave the command that brought you all out of whatever strange trance he’d put you in.”

“It wasn’t a trance,” Sophie argued. “I was conscious. I just couldn’t…”

“Feel,” Fitz finished for her, turning slightly pale.

Oralie shivered. “I’ve never experienced anything like that numbness.”

“You could sense it?” Elwin asked.

Oralie nodded. “There was a strange emptiness in the air. And when he snapped you out of it, the deluge of emotion felt like it was drowning me.”

“I had to steady her,” Alina added, the silky fabric of her gown swishing as she stalked closer to Keefe’s cot. “Care to shed any further insights on the situation, Mr. Sencen?”

Keefe’s only response was to pull the blanket even tighter around his head.

“He’s scared to talk,” Fitz explained, “in case something goes wrong again.”

Alina frowned. “I’m assuming you know this from communicating with him telepathically?”

“Well, he’s mostly ignoring me,” Fitz admitted. “But that’s what he was worrying about when I checked his thoughts—and now he’s grumbling about eavesdropping Telepaths.”

Sophie couldn’t necessarily blame Keefe for that—even if part of her also wished she’d thought to reach out to him that way.

Her brain felt like it was five steps behind everybody.

“It just… doesn’t make sense,” she said quietly. “Keefe said all kinds of other stuff that didn’t have any effect on us. He was talking like normal until…” She stared at her hands.

“Did you enhance him?” Fitz asked, voicing the same question she’d been about to ask herself.

She replayed her memories. “I don’t think so. I feel like I’d know if I had. And I can control the ability now—and I’m wearing gloves as backup. Plus, Keefe was holding my wrists—not my hands—when he snapped us all out of it, so there’s no way I could’ve enhanced him for that.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Fitz dragged a hand through his hair. “Seems like you must’ve done something, though, since he was fine until…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. But he didn’t need to.

“Until I showed up,” Sophie mumbled miserably.

Her emotions had overwhelmed Keefe the moment she’d walked into the Healing Center. So… maybe the physical contact had pushed him over the edge.

“Okay, I’m definitely not an expert on your freaky elf-y abilities,” Ro jumped in, “but I don’t think it’s anything you did, Blondie.”

“Of course you don’t,” Fitz grumbled.

“Uh, because I know how to use my brain,” Ro snapped back. “I’ve watched her and Hunkyhair together more than anyone, and they always have a calming influence on each other.”

“Maybe,” Fitz conceded. “But that was before…”

Once again, he didn’t finish the sentence. And once again, he didn’t need to.

Before Keefe’s mom changed him.

It was time to start acknowledging that, wasn’t it?

He was a Polyglot now.

And he could do… whatever it was that had made them all go numb.

“I think part of the problem,” Elwin said, yanking back the blanket covering Keefe’s head, “is that we don’t know what Keefe actually did, so we’re just speculating and making assumptions.”

He snapped his fingers, flashing an opalescent orb around Keefe’s entire body as Keefe rolled to his side, keeping his back to everyone.

“It was his tone,” a hushed voice said from the doorway, and Sophie turned to find a third Councillor watching them.

It took her brain a second to recognize him as Councillor Noland—one of the Councillors she rarely interacted with. His dark hair had been slicked back into a very tight ponytail, and he had the most sculpted eyebrows she’d ever seen.

His eyebrows scrunched together as he repeated, “It was his tone. Keefe’s inflection shifted when he gave the command that brought back your emotions. So it’s safe to assume he did the same when he numbed you.”

“You’re sure?” Alina asked.

Noland nodded. “I know voices.”

He did.

He was a Vociferator—another talent Sophie didn’t fully understand. All she knew was that Noland could make some painfully loud sounds when he wanted to. Which might explain why he was speaking so softly.

“So… you’re saying Keefe’s a Vociferator?” Fitz asked.

“No, I’m saying he can give his words power—which also means he can take that power away and let his words simply be words. It all depends on his tone.” He made his way to Keefe’s cot. “I understand how it feels to fear your own voice,” he whispered when Keefe didn’t turn to face him. “But hiding behind silence is not the answer. You must learn control. Restraint. Master when and how to use this ability.”

“Are you volunteering to train him?” Alina asked.

Noland shook his head. “I doubt I will be of much use. As I said, he’s not a Vociferator.”

“Okay, so… what is he?” Sophie asked.

Everyone waited for Noland’s answer—even Keefe peeked over his shoulder.

So the room filled with a collective groan when Noland told them, “Honestly, I have no idea. This is something new to me.”

“A new ability?” Alina clarified.

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Noland wondered. “Every ability begins somewhere.”

“Yes, but most begin naturally,” Alina argued. “And there was nothing natural about this.”

“There wasn’t,” Noland agreed, shifting his gaze to Sophie. His eyes had a slight purplish tint, like the tanzanites in his circlet, and they seemed to twinkle as he added, “But I’m staring at someone else with unnatural abilities. And she’s proven to be quite a valuable asset. Hopefully this boy will be the same.”