He placed his hand on Keefe’s wrist, and the warm, burnished tone of Noland’s skin made Keefe look extra pale.

“Look at me, Keefe,” he ordered, and after several long breaths Keefe slowly rolled toward him. “It’s time to stop fearing this change. You need to speak again. Trust me—this we have in common. You need to prove to yourself that you can do it—still be normal. Still be you.”

He’s right, Sophie transmitted when Keefe pressed his lips together. Nothing bad is going to happen.

Keefe’s eyes met hers, and she took that as permission to open her mind to his thoughts.

Nothing bad is going to happen, she promised again.

You don’t know that, he argued.

Yes, I do. What happened was a fluke. Just… don’t say “numb,” and you’ll be good. And maybe don’t hold my hand.

She flashed a smile he didn’t return. But that might’ve been because hers was a little forced.

It wasn’t your fault, he told her.

She wanted that to be true.

Otherwise… what? She’d never be able to touch his hand again without triggering some horrible reaction?

But this wasn’t about her.

It wasn’t your fault either, Keefe, she transmitted. It was just… an accident.

Maybe, he reluctantly agreed. But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen again. Or something even worse.

It won’t be as bad as you’re thinking.

She was doing her best to ignore the images screaming around Keefe’s head, but it was hard to skip past the flashbacks of her blank, dazed face—or the images of things he was afraid would happen. Visions of everyone screaming and thrashing from some imagined terror he’d forced upon them. Or inconsolably sobbing.

Emotions are powerful, Keefe told her.

I know. But… even if something like that DID happen, it would only be temporary—just like the numbness was. You’d figure out how to undo it. And it’s not like you’re the only person to struggle after manifesting. Marella set fire to her bedroom. Linh flooded everything. Jensi said his brother got stuck half-phased in the floor. I thought I’d gone insane because of the voices in my head—and I inflicted on Sandor. Sometimes it takes time and practice to get the ability under control.

But what if I never get control?

You WILL. Everyone does.

Okay, but what if—

“Ugh, are you guys done with your mental conversation yet?” Fitz interrupted.

Ro snorted. “Boy, is that an ironic question coming from Captain Cognate. And I’m surprised you weren’t eavesdropping.”

Sophie was too.

Unless he had been and just didn’t want to admit it…

Not that it mattered.

She turned back to Keefe and switched to talking, so Keefe would have to use his voice too. “Just try one word. Something random, like… aardvark. Or mallowmelt. Or boobrie. How could anything bad happen from saying ‘boobrie’?”

Ro sighed when Keefe shook his head. “Looks like we need to try a different kind of motivation. So here’s the deal. I’m going to give you to the count of five to say something—and if you don’t, I’ll start talking. And I think we both know which of your secrets I’m going to share first.”

Keefe’s eyes narrowed.

“Is that glare supposed to scare me?” Ro asked him, followed by a big, fake yawn.

“It might be unwise to antagonize him,” Oralie warned.

“Nah, Hunkyhair’s harmless. That’s what he’s forgetting. Nothing’s going to change the fact that he’s a great big softie. Meanwhile, I am not. So when I make a threat, I mean it.” She flashed a pointy-toothed smile at Keefe. “One…”

Come on, Keefe, Sophie transmitted when Ro got to “three.” Say “alicorn.” Or “gulon.” Or better yet—tell me what the Great Gulon Incident was!

“Four,” Ro warned.

Keefe bit his lip so hard it looked ready to draw blood. But before Ro got to five, he whispered, “Mrs. Stinkbottom.”

Sophie had to laugh at his word choice.

But the best part was: Nothing happened.

“See?” Noland told Keefe. “It’s that easy. Now say something else—a little louder this time. Your power doesn’t come from volume. It comes from tone.”

Keefe shook his head.

Ro groaned. “Come on, Hunkyhair. I know you have about fifty different jokes you’re dying to make. Especially with Captain Cognate over there. Give us your best one!”

Keefe shook his head again, and Sophie tried to imagine what it would be like if he stayed quiet like this all the time.

He wouldn’t be Keefe anymore.

You’re really going to let your mom win like this? she asked. Give her this kind of control?

No. I’m just trying to be responsible—for once. If I’d tried that a few days ago, I would’ve listened to Tammy Boy—and you—and stayed out of Loamnore. But I did what I always do, ignored everyone, and look how awesome that worked out for me.

Except you’re still ignoring everyone, Sophie argued. Do you really think Noland would tell you to try this if he was worried it would put him—and two other Councillors—in danger?

Probably not, Keefe conceded. Unless he’s looking for an excuse to send me to Exile.

A cold shiver rippled down Sophie’s spine, and she turned to study the Councillors, wondering if they would sink that low.

They definitely would.

But… that wasn’t what this was.

They already have a reason to exile you, she reminded him, fighting another shiver. They know you numbed five people. That’s more than enough to lock you up.

I guess. He blew out a breath. But… maybe I should be. I know what happened, okay? The emotions got overwhelming, and I needed them to stop—so I MADE them stop. And with my empathy so sensitive right now, we both know that could happen again. Especially when I’m with…

The thought trailed off, but Sophie knew exactly what he’d stopped himself from saying.

“His mood is sinking,” Oralie announced before Sophie could figure out what to say. “So perhaps we should hold off on any more practice for now? I suspect his emotional state is directly tied to this new ability.”

“You can feel his emotions?” Alina asked. “Without any contact?”

Oralie nodded. “And in case you’re wondering, that’s definitely a new development.”

“Have there been any other developments?” Alina asked Elwin. “Aside from Keefe’s stronger emotions, becoming a Polyglot, and whatever this new ability is?”

Elwin snapped his fingers, flashing orange light around Keefe. “Well, he’s been battling a headache and nausea since he woke up. Guessing that’s from stress, though—and from being unconscious for three and a half days, and almost dying.”

Alina’s jaw tightened. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

She tapped her shoe against the floor—tap tap tap tap tap—until Fitz told her, “Keefe’s empathy is stronger too.”

“Thank you, Mr. Vacker,” Alina told him. “I appreciate someone cooperating—even if it should have been our Regent.”

“I’m cooperating,” Sophie argued. “I’m just not sure if Keefe’s empathy is stronger, or if it’s just extra sensitive right now because the ability reset.”