“No,” Alina corrected, checking her reflection again, “that’s how true power works. It’s not weapons or muscles or unhinged brutality. It’s natural talent.”

“And yet I’m in charge of keeping Hunkyhair safe,” Ro reminded her. “If you guys are so powerful, how come you hide behind your bodyguards?”

“Everything’s settled, right?” Elwin jumped in before Alina could respond.

Oralie and Noland said “yes” at the same time Alina and Sophie said “no.”

“What’s your problem with this arrangement?” Noland asked Sophie.

“It’s not the arrangement,” Sophie explained. “It’s the fact that no one made sure Keefe’s okay with it. He should get a choice in his training.” Tiergan had given her one before he became her telepathy Mentor. So she asked Keefe, “Are you okay training with Alina and Oralie and whoever else?”

Keefe considered that for a second before he nodded.

Noland clapped his hands. “Good, then we’re settled. I’ll inform the rest of the Council and—”

“We’re not settled,” Alina interrupted. “I still have one final requirement.” She pointed to Sophie. “It’s already been proven that you’re capable of triggering a disturbing aspect of Keefe’s ability. And I’m not convinced you can fully control your enhancing, either. So until we understand more about what we’re dealing with—and Keefe gains some level of control—you need to stay away. No visits. No hailing each other or sneaking off or whatever else you two do.”

Noland tugged at the collar of his jerkin. “I suppose that is a valid precaution. Don’t you agree, Oralie?”

A beat of silence followed, and Sophie stared at her feet, already knowing Oralie’s answer.

But when Oralie spoke, she told Noland, “I think this should be up to Keefe. He knows his limits better than any of us—and he’s shown his desire for caution by refusing to talk, despite all of our urging. So what do you say, Keefe? Do you want Sophie to stay away from Splendor Plains for now?”

“Splendor Plains?” Fitz asked.

“That’s the name of my estate,” Elwin explained.

He said something else, too. But Sophie wasn’t listening. She was too busy studying Keefe’s face.

He was the most stubborn, rebellious person she’d ever met.

But there was no fight left in his eyes.

He looked only tired and shattered as he turned toward Oralie and nodded that yes, he wanted Sophie to stay away.

- FOUR - KEEFE

Welcome to Splendor Plains!” Elwin said as the scenery glittered into focus and Keefe turned to study the sprawling mansion in front of them, which somehow managed to be both super colorful and really, really boring.

The walls were floor-to-ceiling windows, and each pane was a different shade of glass, arranged in vibrant, alternating patterns of the light spectrum.

But the architecture itself was pretty basic.

Flat roof.

Square rooms stacked on top of each other.

Lots of sharp angles.

Even the wide, straight flight of stairs that Elwin led them up was made of dull, square stones. And the door was a simple sliding sheet of glass.

Inside, the huge main room was almost entirely empty. The only furniture was a swiveling white armchair and a small, round table, both arranged precisely in the center.

“I’m guessing this isn’t what you were expecting,” Elwin told Keefe, setting Bullhorn down so that the slinky banshee could duck down some tiny gap in the glass floor and scurry away under their feet.

It was and it wasn’t.

Honestly, Keefe had never really given a whole lot of thought to where Elwin went when he wasn’t at Foxfire.

He knew Elwin had to live somewhere.

He’d just never had a reason to imagine it.

And now… he lived here too—at least temporarily.

Life just kept getting weirder and weirder.

But it was way better than going back to the Shores of Solace and Daddy Dearest, with his constant demands and criticism—especially since his dad would love that Keefe couldn’t snap back with any jokes or insults.

And it was definitely better than letting the Council build him a “facility.”

Plus, Elwin had a steady supply of sedatives, and Keefe did not share Foster’s aversion to drug-induced sleep. He’d actually been planning to beg Elwin to knock him out for a few more days—or weeks, whatever it took—hoping he’d wake up and his senses would be back to normal.

But as soon as the Councillors left, Elwin started scrambling to pack up and get them out of there, so that sleep-away-the-troubles plan would have to wait.

Elwin claimed he was worried that the rest of the Council would try to change the plan once they knew what was happening, so he wanted to get Keefe settled in so they could see how well things were going. But Keefe was pretty sure Elwin was mostly just trying to find some way to fill the excruciating silence that followed Foster’s sudden departure.

She’d raised her home crystal to the light and disappeared as soon as Keefe had agreed to Alina’s condition—without even saying goodbye.

Keefe couldn’t blame her.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to remember the look on her face—the hurt and betrayal and sadness and anger.

Even if he wasn’t an Empath, he would’ve felt each emotional blow.

And he deserved to, because he knew she was already blaming herself for what happened, and he’d basically told her that he blamed her too.

It wasn’t her fault.

It was his fault—and his mom’s fault.

He’d only told Sophie to stay away because… he was scared.

And embarrassed.

And what if he discovered more horrible changes?

He needed some time and space to figure out how to hide everything that had happened—and he wasn’t going to be able to do that with Miss Worries-Too-Much watching him with a crinkly-forehead stare.

So… he’d told her to go away—and then he’d been too big of a jerk to even tell Fitz he should go after her.

He’d thought about it, so maybe Fitz had been eavesdropping again, and that’s where he went when he left a few minutes later.

But Keefe doubted it.

Fitz could be pretty dense when it came to things like that.

And some tiny, selfish part of Keefe secretly hoped he was right. Because if Fitz couldn’t figure that out on his own, he didn’t deserve Foster.

Then again, neither did he.

Ro heaved a sigh. “I hope you have some cures for ‘mopey boy’ in that little satchel of yours, Doc. Otherwise it’s going to be one big sulkfest around here. And I never thought I’d say this, but it’s even worse without Hunkyhair talking.”

“Sadly, there’s no cure for teenage angst,” Elwin told her, motioning for them to follow him to a glass staircase tucked into the far corner. “Though baked goods can help—and I always have some fresh ripplefluffs in my pantry. Today’s are chocolate peanut butter.”

Keefe shook his head as hard as he could.

His stomach was still recovering from the squelchberries.

“Aaaaaaaand there’s the sparkle-overload,” Ro said when they reached the top of the stairs and found themselves in a hall where the windows were draped with crystal-beaded curtains and the doors were each positioned near fancy chandeliers.