“Even if we’re not happy about it,” Grady added under his breath—and Sandor, Dex, Biana, and Wylie snorted their agreement.

“Well…,” Sophie said, still struggling to process this unexpected cooperation. “Thanks.”

And amazingly enough, that seemed to settle it.

No arguing.

No drama.

It was almost too easy—which made Sophie worry that there was some sort of trick or loophole she was missing.

“Are you doing this now?” Edaline asked Mr. Forkle, sounding much calmer than Sophie would’ve expected—though Edaline did also seem to be wringing her hands pretty tightly.

“Yes, if Miss Foster is truly ready,” he agreed. And there was a challenge in the way he raised his eyebrows at Sophie—as if he was reminding her that her stubborn demand for information had been the reason they hadn’t reset her abilities already, and that technically nothing on that front had changed.

“I need to fix myself,” she told him, holding his stare. “That’s my number one priority. So yeah—I’m ready. We’ll figure the rest out later.”

She added an eyebrow raise of her own with the final words—her way of challenging him back. Letting him know, We’re not done here—but this is more important.

Then she made her way over to his side, hoping no one noticed the way her knees shook with every step. “Do we need to head to the Healing Center, or…?”

“Your room here should work fine,” Mr. Forkle told her. “It’s probably best for you to be somewhere you’re relaxed and comfortable. I’ll hail Livvy and have her bring over the supplies.”

“That better not mean you’re thinking of doing this without me,” Elwin warned, stepping in front of Mr. Forkle—which would’ve been a lot more intimidating if Elwin’s tunic wasn’t covered in pink fluffy dinosaurs.

“Quite the contrary,” Mr. Forkle assured him, taking out his Imparter and tapping the silver screen. “I’d been planning on having you around as backup—”

“Backup,” Elwin scoffed, raking his fingers through his messy hair.

“I assure you, that’s not an insult,” Mr. Forkle promised. “Livvy’s been researching and perfecting the treatment we’re about to use for the last several months, so naturally she’ll take the lead. But she’ll need you at her side the whole way through. That’s why I’m glad you’re already here and on board with the ability reset. Saves me both an errand and a lengthy discussion. And if…” His voice trailed off as he turned back to the larger group. “Actually, that reminds me. Did I hear correctly that all of you chose to exclude me from whatever meeting I’m interrupting?”

Councillor Emery crossed his arms. “We chose to keep any members of the Black Swan out of the discussion.”

Mr. Forkle’s frown deepened. “I thought we were past these kinds of squabbles.”

“Squabbles?” Bronte repeated. “Is that your way of trying to trivialize our concerns? As if we couldn’t possibly have a valid complaint against your order?”

“No, it’s my way of reminding you that you can come to me, or anyone else in the Collective, and raise your complaints anytime, and we’ll do our best to address them—the way responsible adults do when they want to resolve an issue,” Mr. Forkle corrected. “Holding secret meetings is childish.”

“Funny you should say that,” Bronte noted, “considering we’re gathered here to discuss the problems caused by Granite’s secret meeting with King Enki yesterday.”

Mr. Forkle straightened.

“Ah, so you thought we weren’t aware of your subterfuge?” Councillor Emery asked.

“There was no subterfuge,” Mr. Forkle insisted. “We’ve made it abundantly clear that our current focus is on the dwarves, and that we’d be arranging a meeting with King Enki as soon as possible.”

“And yet you didn’t bother to tell us that you had a meeting actually scheduled,” Bronte argued, “which nearly derailed our visit. King Enki accused us of wasting his time and of misrepresenting our working relationship with the Black Swan, since you clearly weren’t keeping us informed. He seemed ready to cast us out of Loamnore, and the only reason he didn’t was because Miss Foster managed to calm him down.”

For what it was worth, Mr. Forkle did look sufficiently chagrined. “Well. I suppose it might’ve been wise if we’d better coordinated our investigations.”

“Yes, it would,” Councillor Emery agreed. “And it should be noted that we’ve made every effort to be forthright—”

“Every effort,” Mr. Forkle interrupted. “Strange. I don’t remember you informing us ahead of time that you’d be appointing several of our members as Regents—including Miss Foster.”

“You didn’t know about that?” Sophie asked, not sure what to feel when he shook his head.

She’d assumed the Black Swan was fully aware that the Council was offering her the title, since the Council appointed her right after she’d met with Mr. Forkle in his office—and her first assignment overlapped with things that the two of them had discussed. Plus, Tiergan was with them in the Seat of Eminence when they’d agreed to become Team Valiant.

But… now that she thought about it, no one had actually said the Black Swan knew she was becoming a Regent. And Tiergan had been confused about why he and Wylie had received a vague summons to be there.

All of which begged a different question—one Sophie probably should’ve thought to ask when Mr. Forkle admitted a few days earlier that the Black Swan had never anticipated her appointment to the nobility.

“Do you not want us to be Regents?” she asked.

Mr. Forkle dragged a hand down his face. “I have no problem with any of you having the title, nor with you allying yourself with the Council. But… it does complicate things. Particularly since delegating assignments to you and your friends has never been easy for those of us in the Collective—and I realize that may be hard to believe given the way we’ve been dragging you into our plans from your earliest days in the Lost Cities. But… the fact that you were always frustrated by how few and far between our notes were should prove how methodical we try to be—how thoroughly we explore all of the options before we choose to involve you. And the Council isn’t nearly so meticulous—which isn’t meant to be a criticism,” he added when several Councillors made derisive noises. “It’s simply a different method of operating. The twelve of you—as well as your many predecessors—have been handing off assignments to Regents and Emissaries for millennia. It’s second nature to you. And I understand why—it’s the only way a world as complex as ours can properly function. But the Black Swan has had to operate in the shadows for most of our existence, and our goal has always been to involve as few as possible to avoid detection—plus, we’re well aware of the danger involved with our assignments and prefer to keep the risks to ourselves. So when I told you about meeting with King Enki, Miss Foster, it was with the assumption that the meeting would be arranged the way we always arrange anything we’re involving you in—with someone in our order handling all the preliminary investigations and addressing as many potential pitfalls as possible before we ever brought you and your friends to Loamnore. And while I knew the Council worked at a different pace, it didn’t occur to me that they might arrange a meeting with King Enki this fast, since your appointment—and the existence of your team—has yet to be announced.”