What is good and what is evil? Who defines such things? Your first thought may be that these are inherent qualities to every thought, word and action. Or perhaps it isn’t—but that is certainly mine. Perhaps your first thought, whatever it may be, whether I have correctly or incorrectly guessed it, is the truth.

I want to tell you a tale that made me pause and consider where I learned my strong convictions. Perhaps it is one you’ve heard before in some other form. But whatever shape it takes, however the characters appear, it poses the same question:

Who defines what is true?

—Dear Old Shiz—

Sophie hummed along to the Foxfire University alma mater. She hadn’t yet learned the words, though Amy had—she was the one who was supposed to be going to university, after all. Sophie’s family had been anxious about letting her go away to school, suggesting online classes instead. Sophie understood why: it was because of her eyes.

Her parents just wanted to protect her. They didn’t want her to get any unnecessary attention, and for that, Sophie was grateful.

But she also really, really, really wanted to go to university.

And so, when they decided to let her go, even just to look after her younger sister Amy, she immediately agreed. While Sophie was the most noticeably… off, because of her eye color, things hadn’t been easy for her sister.

Sophie’s parents had been infertile until her birth. Whatever fertility doctor they’d seen had to have done something… odd with her, because not only had she been born with brown eyes, but Amy had never been able to walk. (Plus, no matter how much Amy insisted her eyes were turquoise, everyone in her family secretly knew they were really green.)

Sophie really did want to be there for Amy.

But… she also wanted to be there for herself.

Orientation had been fine so far, aside from a few sideways glances when people noticed her eye color. But if she kept her eyes mostly downcast, people were less likely to notice, and she could do her best to blend in.

They were gathered around the pyramid, now, so that Magnate Leto could give a speech and wrap up orientation, but Sophie couldn’t help looking around at the different, small groups that had already started to form. Just by exploring and taking tours of the campus, people seemed to have already found others they clicked with—especially the two brunette, teal-eyed siblings who already seemed to have enormous crowds of friends.

Sophie had even caught their names—Fitz and Biana Vacker.

Her eyes landed on Biana, who stood at the center of a group of girls who were hanging on her every word. From the look on her face, one would have guessed that the conversation was quite sophisticated, though she was likely imparting meaningless gossip. She looked quite pleased with every word that left her mouth, as well as her own appearance.

Sophie’s mood soured. She had enough experience with girls like that to know she wasn’t the kind of friend Sophie would want to make.

Sophie didn’t realize she was staring until Biana looked up, just for a moment, briefly catching her eye. Her eyes flitted away quickly, as though she hadn’t noted anything of importance, and then snapped back to Sophie immediately, like she’d just registered there was, in fact, something notable that she’d just seen.

She’d noticed Sophie’s eyes.

The two of them held eye contact for a moment, and Sophie wondered if she’d let it go and return to telling a story to her friends. Instead, clearly and impolitely, she addressed Sophie. “What happened to your eyes?”

Her voice cut through the air, and everyone in their general vicinity turned to watch, wondering why Biana Vacker had chosen to speak to this other person. They got their answer quickly, and Sophie suddenly wanted to look down.

She held Biana’s gaze. “Nothing happened to them,” she said calmly, daring Biana to ask any of the many questions she’d heard before. Biana opened her mouth, but paused, like she was trying to find some reasonable explanation to propose. Sophie decided to speed things up. “Okay, let’s just get the questioning over with, shall we? No, I’m not contagious; yes, my eyes have always been brown; no, I did not chew on dirt as a child.”

“Sophie,” Amy hissed. Amy, like the rest of Sophie’s family, hated it when she drew attention to herself in this manner, but sometimes, snark felt like Sophie’s only weapon.

“Welcome, new students!” a strong voice exclaimed. To Sophie’s relief, everyone’s eyes, including Biana, turned to the source of the voice, temporarily forgetting about her. A man with gelled black hair came into view, his hands clasped in front of him. “I am Magnate Leto, the headmaster here at Foxfire University. Whether you’re here to study logic, literature, language, or anything of the sort, I know I speak for the entire faculty when I say I have nothing but the highest hopes…” his eyes flitted away from whatever focal point he’d been using, landing briefly on Biana, “...for some of you.” His gaze snapped back up to looking over the crowd of students. “Now, regarding room assignments, it has come to my attention that there have been a few mishaps this year. If you have a concern regarding rooming assignments, would you please raise your hand?”

Sophie raised hers. For some reason, despite the fact that they’d enrolled at the same time, only Amy had received her rooming assignment.

Biana’s hand was strongly in the air as well, and she took a few confident steps forward, commanding Magnate Leto’s attention. “I do, in fact, have a concern.”

“Regarding rooming assignments?” Magnate Leto asked.

“No, not regarding rooming assignments, thank you for asking, but I’ve already been assigned a private suite!” Biana said it loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear, tossing her hair over her shoulder. To the disappointed groans from the cult of followers she’d already gathered, she added, “But, you all can come visit me whenever you want!”

Her followers cheered. “Oh, that is so good of you,” one of the girls closest to her exclaimed.

“You are so good,” said another, giggling.

“Oh, no I’m not,” Biana said with a satisfied grin, waving them off.

“Yes you are!” they exclaimed in unison, taking the bait immediately.

“Oh, stop it!” How could they not tell she was eating up their praise?

“Excuse me, Miss Vacker, did you have a question?” Magnate Leto asked, sounding annoyed. At least someone around here had sense.

“Oh yes, I do! You see, I am Biana Vacker,” she introduced. She waited a moment for the introduction to sink in, as though she were expecting some sort of reaction. Magnate Leto gave her none. “Alden and Della Vacker’s daughter?” After another brief, reactionless pause, Biana continued. “You see, I applied to your sorcery seminar. It is, indeed, my sole purpose in attending Foxfire University—to study sorcery with you! Perhaps you recall my entrance essay, regarding the necessity of magic wands taking familiar forms—”

“Yes, yes, I do remember,” Magnate Leto said, already sounding bored, “but I do not teach my seminar every semester, so unless somebody special were to come along…”

“Well, exactly,” Biana said with a giggle.

“Magnate Leto,” Sophie interrupted, saving the headmaster from further interaction with this girl, “I haven’t yet received my room assignment.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Magnate Leto said, turning around to face her immediately. “And you are… ah.” His expression shifted, only slightly, when he made eye contact with Sophie, though oddly enough, he didn’t seem to be questioning or judging her in any way. “You must be Sophie Foster.”

So, her family must have warned the school about her, then. “Yes,” Sophie confirmed. “My sister received hers, but I never got mine.”

“Interesting,” Magnate Leto said, sounding distracted. “Yes, that’s quite an oversight. Well, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

—

Miffed that Magnate Leto turned away from her to speak to the brown-eyed girl so flippantly, as though her name meant nothing, Biana huffed, turning to her newly acquired circle of friends. “I don’t think he even read my essay.”

“That’s not fair!” a strawberry blonde boy piped up. Biana couldn’t remember his name. He’d introduced himself to her. Dox? Deck? “You should say something.”

“Should I?” Biana glanced back over at where the brown-eyed girl and Magnate Leto were still talking.

A few of her friends murmured their agreement, beginning to urge her to grab Magnate Leto’s attention. Magnate Leto had turned back to the student population, loudly asking a question, but Biana tuned out whatever it was. Surely it could not be more important than the way he waved off her essay without even reading it.

“Magnate Leto!” Biana called, raising her hand as she walked briskly towards him.

“Ah, Biana. How good of you,” Magnate Leto said begrudgingly.

Biana grinned, tossing her hair. “Thank you,” she said, soaking up the praise. Then she remembered she hadn’t actually done anything. “...What did I do?”

“Miss Foster,” Magnate Leto addressed the brown eyed girl, grabbing her hand, “you will share a suite with Miss Vacker!” He placed her hand in Biana’s.

The two of them met eyes for a moment.

Then they both jerked their hands away, shouting, “No!”

“You don’t understand!” Biana insisted. “That’s not what I—no, I want to talk about—”

“I don’t see why I can’t room with Amy! I have always looked after my sister—it’s why I’m—”

“Your sister’s room will be quite close to my own compartment. If she is in need of anything, she will have the headmaster of the school just a few feet down the hall.”

“I’m going to be okay, Sophie,” Amy insisted to her clingy freak of a sister as she began to roll her wheelchair away. Magnate Leto was walking away in the same direction, and the students gathered around were beginning to disperse. No, he couldn’t leave yet! Biana still needed to talk to him about her entrance into his seminar!

“Wait!” Sophie shouted, a strange finality in her tone. Before anyone knew what was happening, Amy’s wheelchair, as though it had a mind of its own, began to roll back towards Sophie… uphill. It came to rest right in front of Sophie, whose eyes were wide, like she’d been caught. Trapped.

“How did you do that?” Magnate Leto asked, his voice hushed and urgent.

“How did she do that?!” Biana exclaimed, stepping back towards the safety of her adoring social circle.

“Sophie!” Amy cried. “You promised things would be different here!”

“I…” Sophie looked like a deer in the headlights. Biana wanted to feel triumphant in her discomfort, but she couldn’t help but feel like Sophie had just demonstrated… power.

Power Biana wanted to have.

She didn’t like the idea of this brown-eyed girl having something she wanted.

“You mean this has happened before?” Magnate Leto sounded eager and excited, and for some reason, Biana had the feeling she wasn’t going to like what came next.

“Yes… but it won’t happen again! I’m so sorry.”

“No!” Magnate Leto corrected sharply, startling Sophie. “Don’t apologize for talent!” he continued, and some of the color returned to Sophie’s face.

“...Talent?”

“Yes! Talent is a gift! Have you ever considered a career in sorcery?” Magnate Leto asked her.

Biana’s blood turned to fire. He was willing to give this random brown-eyed freak a chance at learning magic, but not her? After she went out of her way to write a paper to apply, only for him to wave it off without even reading it? She hadn’t even written an application!

“Sorcery? …Me?” Sophie asked, as though she had no idea the implications of the raw power she’d demonstrated only moments before. It made Biana want to tear her hair out, but she wouldn’t—her hair was her pride and joy.

“Yes. In fact, I believe I shall teach my seminar this semester,” Magnate Leto said decisively. Biana calmed, cheering up slightly. She still wasn’t strictly happy, but so what if this girl was the one who convinced him to teach the seminar? This would make it far easier for her to secure a spot in the class. “I shall teach you privately, and take no other students!”

“What?!” Biana shrieked.

“Oh, Miss Foster, you don’t understand what a gift this is!” Magnate Leto gushed, completely ignoring Biana’s indignance. “I’ve waited many years for a talent like yours to come to my university! The Council itself may have use for the power you display!”

“The Council?!”

“Yes! So long as you pay close attention to your studies, the sky is not even a limit for you.” Magnate Leto turned to walk away, leaving both Sophie and Biana stunned.

“Magnate Leto—” Biana tried.

“Not now.” And with only a few more brisk steps, he was out of reach.

The two girls stood there—one amazed, one distraught—until Biana muttered, “Something is wrong. I didn’t get my way.”

“Very wrong indeed,” Sophie agreed ironically, glaring at her. Oh, fun. She couldn’t wait to share her private suite with this girl.

Well, she would just have to be the bigger person. “Well, come on, then,” Biana invited, plastering a fake smile onto her face. “I should show you to my… our room.”

—What is This Feeling/Something Bad—

Biana’s room was quite large considering that she was intended to use it all to herself. “This is where I sleep,” Biana said, gesturing to her bed, which was enormous and decorated with brightly colored throw pillows. “I have some spare blankets under my bed,” she said, very generously, “which I can set up in the corner to give you a place to sleep. From 7:00 AM to 9:00 AM is my getting-ready-time, so you will not enter the bathroom during those hours. Is that clear?”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Do you hear yourself?”

“I do, in fact. Do you hear me?”

“Do you seriously think this is fair?”

“No, I do not, thank you for asking,” Biana said, keeping her smile in place. “I was promised a private suite, and yet, here I am, sharing it with you. Honestly, I could complain. I am supposed to have a suite to myself, and I do believe there is written documentation of this, and yet, I am choosing to allow you to stay, out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Right.”

Biana didn’t understand Sophie’s incredulity. “Listen. I don’t like you, you don’t like me, and that’s fine. We don’t have to like each other. But you are in my space, and thus, you will respect it. Is that clear?”

Biana recognized the fake, plastic, gritted-teeth smile that Sophie flashed. It was one she herself wore often. “Crystal.”

“Glad we’re in agreement.”

—

To walk to class together was to make a statement: I tolerate this person’s presence. We hold friendly and polite conversation. If you do it more than once, you may even be stating, We are friends. This was the reason that, though Sophie and Biana shared a room and had the first class of the day together, they purposefully left the room ten minutes apart, lest they be misunderstood.

A few weeks into the semester, they’d established a routine: Sophie woke up before Biana in order to quickly get ready, and once Biana took over the bathroom to do her unnecessarily long routine, Sophie would head over to the classroom early, bringing a few books with her. For a few minutes, it would just be her and Professor Fintan, their ancient history professor, gathering things at his desk. Biana would arrive barely on time for class to begin, and no one would suspect that she and Sophie got along. In fact, the entire school was aware of their pure, unadulterated loathing for each other.

“Alright class,” Professor Fintan announced as Biana rushed through the door, barely on time. She took a seat next to Maruca Chebota and tossed her hair over her shoulder, ignoring the look Professor Fintan gave her out of the corner of his eye. “I have officially read and graded your most recent essays.”

Sophie couldn’t help the burst of excitement she felt when he said that. Professor Fintan always wrote high praise in the margins of her essays, as well as helpful feedback, and she was always grateful for the reminder that someone appreciated the things she was good at.

“I am amazed to report the progress! The class average has definitely improved,” Professor Fintan said as he passed back the essays, “though some of us still tend to favor form over content… Miss Vacker.” He handed Biana her essay with a pointed look.

Biana smiled sweetly. “Good-sounding words attract more listeners than substantial subject matter.”

Professor Fintan pressed his lips into a fine line. “Perhaps in the world of… publicity. But in the world of history, glossing over important subjects leads to gaps in important knowledge. Learning history is how we keep it from repeating itself.”

“What’s so wrong with history repeating itself?” Biana’s friend, Maruca, asked. “At least then we know what to expect.”

Professor Fintan didn’t deign to respond, turning around sharply to make his way back to the front of the class. “Interestingly, the subject of today’s lecture is a matter that is quite relevant to my own life—that is, the discipline of sorcery.”

Sophie saw Biana light up at the mention of her aspirations, and Sophie once again felt a sense of satisfaction that she had the one thing Biana wanted the most. “Historically, sorcery was something taught, at least in some form, to all elves once they reached a certain age. Of course, not everyone has the natural talent to learn the more difficult disciplines, and most are only able to become proficient with one, but everyone has some magical spark in them. There were always others, of course, who showed a natural aptitude for the discipline.” His eyes landed on Sophie, and Biana scowled. “But the elvin species seems to have lost its past identity in magic.”

Biana’s hand shot up into the air. Begrudgingly, Professor Fintan called on her. “Yes, Miss Vacker?”

“If you teach everyone magic, it isn’t as special,” she pointed out. “I think only those who prove most dedicated and adept at sorcery should learn to wield it.”

“There are many who believe that,” Professor Fintan agreed, “including our headmaster and professor of sorcery here at this school, hence his decision to train only your talented classmate, Miss Foster.” One of the corners of his mouth turned up as Biana crossed her arms, muttering something that Maruca rolled her eyes at in solidarity.

“However,” Professor Fintan continued, pacing back and forth at the front of the classroom, “this change in identity has caused certain backlash on the discipline. Surely you have heard certain… rumors.”

Dex Dizznee, the strawberry blonde who spent so much of his time shadowing Biana, raised his hand. “Yes, Mr. Dizznee?”

“It’s only certain practices that people are beginning to question, right?” Dex piped up curiously. “Not all magic is bad.”

“No magic is bad,” Professor Fintan stressed. “But yes. Certain forms of magic are receiving more backlash than others. Which, as a pyrokinetic myself, I feel I am quite equipped to teach today.” He made his way over to the chalkboard, flipping it to the other side. “You see, this began with my creation of…” Professor Fintan trailed off when he saw the other side of his chalkboard.

In sloppy, large handwriting, a message was written on the chalkboard that was clearly not written by Professor Fintan, and clearly not meant to be there:

PYROKINESIS WILL BURN DOWN OUR WORLD

FIRE SHOULD BE CONTAINED

AND SO SHOULD THOSE WHO WIELD IT

A hush fell over the room.

When Professor Fintan turned around, his eyes were burning hotter than the balefire torches that lined the walls, illuminating their space. Said torches flared up in unison, a reminder that their eccentric history professor was a powerful, ancient sorcerer and not to be messed with. “Who is responsible for this?”

Every student shrunk in fear, despite the fact that they couldn’t all be guilty. Even Sophie, who had always enjoyed her professor’s company, sank slightly in her seat.

“I am waiting for an answer!”

If the student responsible was in the room, he was too frightened to speak up, and rightfully so.

“Very well,” Professor Fintan said in a quiet voice, though it might as well have been a shout. “Class dismissed.”

Everyone stayed frozen.

“Class dismissed!”

The room sprang to action, students scrambling out of the room as quickly as possible. 

Sophie made her way slowly towards the door, far behind her frantic classmates. Before she exited, she hesitated, turning around. Professor Fintan was erasing the words from the chalkboard, looking troubled. There was lingering anger in his expression, but Sophie didn’t think it was right to be afraid. He could hurt them, yes, but… he wouldn’t.

“Professor Fintan?” Sophie asked tentatively.

He bristled for a moment, but seemed to register that she was the one talking and relaxed. “Miss Foster. You should be off, enjoying lunch with your friends.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Sophie said lightheartedly, “I have no friends.” The way Professor Fintan relaxed, chuckling slightly, made the truth less painful to say.

“Alright then. Did you have a question?”

“Well…” Sophie hesitated. “It’s not exactly a question. I just… ‘fire should be contained and so should those who wield it?’ Do people actually think stuff like that?”

Fintan sighed. “I’m afraid they do. It’s merely whispers right now, but the more acceptable statements like that become…” his eyes darkened. “The world has become less friendly to the more powerful forms of sorcery.”

“But why?”

“People are afraid of things they cannot control.” Fintan opened his palm, allowing a flame to spring up, flickering like a candle. “I control fire, and so I do not fear it. But there are many who see such powers as dangerous.”

“I can’t control fire, but I’m not afraid of your powers,” Sophie offered.

“You are smart with where you place your trust. It is natural to fear those with power, because it is difficult to know who to trust.” Fintan met her eyes suddenly, an almost urgent intensity behind them. “Your magical talents are truly something, Miss Foster,” he told her “but you must be careful whose loyalty you count on when you choose when and how to use them.”

There was a lesson there—or perhaps something he wasn’t saying. Something about his own life. Whose loyalty had he counted on? “I don’t understand.”

“I hope you never do, Miss Foster,” Fintan murmured, his eyes focusing back on the flame in the palm of his hand. “I hope you never do.”

—Dancing Through Life—

Keefe stared after the odd girl as she indignantly stalked away, holding her books to her chest. Well, she was a little touchy.

Foxfire University. Keefe had known it was only a matter of time before he was sent there—after all, it was one of the most prestigious universities in the Lost Cities, and his parents always wanted  nothing but the best.

It was difficult to get Foxfire to accept a student who’d been expelled from so many schools, and his parents were in the habit of donating extreme amounts of money to each college to get them to accept him. It was surely one of the most expensive opportunities they’d bought him, but they were running out of options.

The idea that Keefe might one day manage to get kicked out of every university in the Lost Cities made his lips curl into a smile every time. His parents would be distraught. They wanted him to “care about his education,” which was ridiculous. He wasn’t going to be a prince of a western city forever. Truthfully, it didn’t really matter that much. Their monarchy meant hardly anything under the rule of the Council. In Keefe’s opinion, it was an outdated tradition. But still, one day, he’d be a king, and no one would care how educated he was—not that he was looking forward to that particular responsibility.

No responsibility was by far the best. And when one’s goal is to get expelled from every university they attend, there is no need for any responsibility at all.

This school already seemed to have an odd breed of students, which was expected, he supposed, of a school of its caliber. There was “odd,” however, and then there was… the girl he’d just met.

She literally had brown eyes.

He’d figured it was some kind of trick—perhaps some odd magic spell he’d never heard of, or a pair of contacts, designed to make some kind of point. However, based on her reaction to his snide joke about them, they were a very sensitive topic, which made Keefe think it wasn’t something she’d done on purpose.

He didn’t have the brainpower to think about this right now.

“Biana,” a voice behind him called. He instinctively turned towards the source of the noise, noticing a strawberry blonde boy jogging slightly to keep up with the brisk steps of a beautiful brunette who was hardly paying him any attention. “Biana, wait a minute.”

She turned around to face him, not unkindly. She seemed to regard him with a polite indifference. “I’m sorry, Dest, I promised my brother I would meet up with him, but perhaps we can talk another time.”

“It’s Dex,” the boy said, exasperated. “And I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks now. You’re just so busy.”

“Yes, well, you know,” Biana said flippantly, “life of a Vacker, and all.”

Vacker.

Keefe had definitely heard that name.

He continued to listen to their conversation with a renewed interest, leaning casually against a pillar.

“It’s just, sometimes it feels like you pretend that I don’t exist, but I think you’re really cool…”

Poor guy definitely had a crush on her.

“I don’t pretend you don’t exist,” Biana said. She turned around for a moment, preparing to walk away, before she suddenly turned back to Dex. “Oh. Oh, Dex, do you see that?”

“See what?”

“Him!” she gestured not-so-vaguely to the pillar he was leaning against. Keefe smirked. Of course she’d heard of him. She seemed, from his initial analysis of her character, like the type of girl who read the magazines he’d appeared in. “Do you know who that is?”

“Um… no.”

“That’s Keefe Sencen. His family is royalty!”

“Aren’t those families kind of irrelevant because of the power of the Council—”

Yes, see? Exactly. Keefe decided he liked Dex.

“It doesn’t matter. He was voted Most Handsome Teenager in the last edition of the Lost Cities Trendsetter—”

Fake title. His parents had paid for that appearance in the Trendsetter, trying to at least show off the only parts of himself he seemed to care about. He’d gone along with it because, well, that was the kind of famous he was more than okay with being.

“—and his reputation is so scandalacious—”

Not a word.

“—I have absolutely got to talk to him.”

“I thought you said you had to meet your brother?”

“Sh, it can wait.”

Keefe felt his own satisfied smirk slide onto his face. That was the other kind of famous he was okay with being. Sure, he felt a little bad for Dex, but he was also interested in talking to this girl. She was from the Vacker family, and quite pretty, so likely popular. In order to uphold his reputation, he’d need to ask out a girl like her as soon as possible, and luckily for him, she already seemed interested.

Biana came into his line of view, and Keefe pretended to be distracted. “Hey there,” Biana said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I see you’re new to this school. Were you looking for something? Or… someone?” She fluttered her eyelashes.

Wow, she was going right for it, immediately. Perfect. “Well,” he said, pretending to ignore the clear statement behind her second question, “I think I’m supposed to be in the middle of some sort of history class right about now.” He didn’t exactly plan on going, but it was a good excuse for Biana to show him somewhere, allowing them to continue their conversation.

Dex, who was shadowing her, stepped forward. “Oh, the history building is that way!” He piped up, pointing.

Biana pushed his arm down, not breaking eye contact with Keefe. “That class just ended.”

“Oh, perfect! So, what does one do for fun around here?” Just a glance at his surroundings told him this was a school with very… academically focused students. But he’d never been anywhere, even at the most prestigious of schools, where people didn’t like to go to parties and unwind.

“Well, nothing really… until now.”

Again with the hints. He’d have to find some kind of social gathering to bring her to as his date.

“We’ve been studying!” Dex added.

Okay… maybe he’d have to organize this social gathering himself.

“Well, I see that once again the responsibility to corrupt my fellow students falls to me,” Keefe said, flashing his smirk intentionally in Biana’s direction. She giggled. “Fortunately, I’m up to the task.”

“What if we don’t want to be corrupted?” Dex interjected.

“No one does. Not until they realize how much more fun there is to be had in life.”

“You’re so wise,” Biana giggled.

He was not. “Of course. There are lessons to be learned in life, naturally, but the trouble with schools is that those aren’t the ones they teach. They’re all about learning nonsensical, useless knowledge that will never serve anyone in life. Thinking too much is a recipe for a headache, yet thinking too little has no negative symptoms at all!”

“You already seem smarter than all my professors,” Biana complimented, clearly still sucking up to him.

“I’d imagine. Professors rarely know how to have a good time. Speaking of which, what’s the best place around here to hold a party?”

“Well, there’s the Chanterelle Ballroom!” Biana suggested. “It’s beautiful, in my personal opinion, but we hardly ever hold any events there…”

“Chanterelle?” Keefe raised an eyebrow. “Is that not a type of fungus?”

“I don’t know, but it’s definitely the name of a ballroom.”

“Yeah,” Dex sighed, “this school really committed to the wrong bit.”

…It sure did. “No events are planned there?”

“Never. It’s really a shame.”

“Well, as of right now, I’m saying there will be a party there Friday night,” he said, already planning how he’d make it happen in his head. He’d done this once or twice, and it had never been a failure. “

Biana squealed. “Finally! There have not been nearly enough social events going on, and everything that has happened has been school-sanctioned and boring. So… who’s invited?”

“Whoever wants to come. As many people as possible.” And now it was time to start flirting back. “I think I may know who I’ll be asking to dance tonight,” he said, winking at Biana. He watched her practically melt.

“I bet she’ll be happy to dance all night,” she replied, mirroring his wink. He chuckled.

“You’ll dance with lots of people, won’t you, Biana?” Dex asked, reminding them that he was still there.

Biana pressed her lips into a line. “Can you excuse us for a moment?” Biana said apologetically, grabbing Dex’s hand and walking a few paces away. Keefe leaned back against the pillar, pretending he couldn’t hear every word they said.

—

“Listen, Dex,” Biana said when she was reasonably sure Keefe was out of earshot, “I’d love to dance with you, but I personally think you should be spending time with your date.”

“My date? But…” Dex looked at the ground. “I didn’t plan on asking anybody.”

Biana looked around, her eyes landing on Amy Foster, who sat chatting with a dark-haired girl on a bench near the pyramid. “Well, that’s okay. I’m sure you’ll find someone to go with, even if it’s just a friend.” Biana gasped, as if just noticing Amy. “Oh, it’s so unfortunate that she won’t be able to dance!”

“Who?” Dex asked.

Biana gestured subtly in Amy’s direction. “You know. Her. Because she’s in a wheelchair. I hope somebody asks her to the party. She should get to have fun too, shouldn’t she?” Logically, she’d probably show up and have a good time whether or not someone brought her, but hopefully, Dex would take the bait.

He did. “You’re completely right, Biana. In fact… I think I’ll invite her!”

Biana gasped, as though surprised and touched. “Oh Deck, that’s so kind of you!”

“Dex,” he corrected, looking sullen for only a moment. “But of course!” he said, brightening again, looking over in Amy’s direction. “In fact, I’ll ask her now, so she can look forward to it all day!” And with that, he was out of her hair.

Biana spun back around to face Keefe, realizing he was smirking in their direction. “So… how much of that did you hear?”

“You’re good,” Keefe said by way of answer, walking towards her. “Really good.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Biana said ditzily, shrugging her shoulders.

“So…” Keefe raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be picking you up around eight?”

“Well of course,” Biana said, keeping up the silly, likable demeanor that always got her the most popular guys. “You’re a Sencen, I’m a Vacker…”

“You’re the prettiest girl here…”

“And you’re the handsomest guy!” Biana finished. Keefe nodded in agreement, wearing a conceited grin on his face that only served to make him more attractive. “It just makes sense. We deserve each other.”

“Glad we agree.”

—

“It’s absurd!” Sophie ranted. “This silly, rich boy appears and everyone's off to worship him and some cultish social gathering!”

“Even me!” Amy said with a giggle, bringing Sophie up short.

“Really?”

“Yes! It’s called a party, by the way, and I’m going! Dex was too shy to ask me at first, but Biana encouraged him a little, I think, and well…”

“Biana?!” Sophie groaned, flopping down onto Amy’s bed.

“Don’t say another word against her! Not to me!” Amy insisted. “I’ve never gone out to something like this before, but now because of Dex, I’m going to finally see what it’s like—ultimately all because of Biana!”

“How do you know Biana even encouraged him? Maybe Dex is just being nice of his own free will.” Sophie hoped that was it, anyway. Dex was a nice guy, but he looked at Biana with hearts in his eyes so big they blinded him.

“Well, he kept glancing over at me,” Amy explained, “but then I saw Biana whispering to him and gesturing to me, and only a few moments later, he jogged over to me and asked me out! I just wish…” Amy trailed off, sighing. “I wish I could do something for her in return.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Not Dex?”

“Well, of course Dex,” Amy said quickly. “I’ll go out with him and the two of us will have a magnificent time. But how am I meant to thank Biana?”

“If it matters so much to you, you could try saying ‘Thank you.’”

“I guess.” Amy slumped. “But I want to do something better than that.”

Was she asking for ideas? “Well, what are you thinking?” Sophie didn’t plan on giving her any. Maybe it was her somewhat blind hatred, but the idea that Biana had done something with no intention other than to make Amy happy made her a little skeptical.

“Um… you’re her roommate,” Amy mumbled, fidgeting. “I figured maybe you could help… just because you probably know her better than me—”

“You want me to do something nice for Biana?” Sophie asked incredulously.

“Please, Sophie, you have to understand! I feel that I owe her, and I can’t think of anything to give her that would match the happiness she’s given me!”

Sophie was still confused on why Amy couldn’t go to a party without getting asked out, but it clearly meant a lot to her. She may have loathed Biana, but she loved her sister. “I do understand,” she sighed. “Just let me think. I’m sure I can come up with something.” In fact, she didn’t even have to think. She already knew the one thing that would make Biana as delighted as Amy seemed to be.

Reluctantly, she began to make her way towards’ Magnate Leto’s office.

—

“You what?!”

“I want you to allow Biana Vacker to join the sorcery seminar,” Sophie repeated evenly.

Magnate Leto seemed to be at a loss for words. After a moment of silence, he finally found one: “Why?”

Sophie had practiced her case for this in her head. As much as she loathed the idea of having Biana take the class with her, she’d promised Amy she’d do something, and she wasn’t about to take no for an answer. “Because she took the time to write an application essay, which shows her dedication. And because I worry that the appearance of rejecting her and not me perpetuates the false belief that femininity and capability are inversely proportional. I think she should be given the opportunity to prove herself before being dismissed.”

She held her breath as Magnate Leto contemplated her words, frowning.

After another pause, he said, “Has Miss Vacker put you up to this? Is she promising you something in return?”

“As if I would ever make a deal with her!” Sophie blurted out. Then she pressed her lips together, blushing slightly. “I mean… no. We don’t exactly get along swimmingly is all I mean.”

He nodded, looking slightly confused. “Well, I appreciate your concern for the appearance of Miss Vacker’s rejection from the seminar, but I can assure you I read her application essay and was far from impressed. She favors flowery words over content, something that would not serve her well in this setting.”

“Maybe she’d learn not to by taking the seminar,” Sophie suggested.

“I’m afraid that’s a skill best taught by professors of other specializations. I appreciate your selflessness here, Miss Foster, I really do, but it simply would not be conducive to your learning to have a student in the class who is so far behind you in ability and aptitude.”

Magnate Leto clearly wasn’t planning on moving, and for good reason. In his position, Sophie would readily reject Biana with a smile. But she’d already decided she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

She had one last card to play. “If Biana isn’t permitted to join because of my ability, I’ll have to quit the seminar.”

For a moment, the shocked expression on Magnate Leto’s face was funny. She held her breath, hoping this would work. He’d seemed excited about her abilities, and hopefully, she mattered enough that this would finally push him to give her what she was asking for.

“Are you saying that unless I allow Biana Vacker to join the seminar, you’ll quit?”

“I will,” Sophie said with a firm nod, trying not to let her nervousness show. Quitting was the last thing she wanted to do, and she hoped she wouldn’t be put in a situation where she had to either make good on her threat or admit her bluff.

Magnate Leto contemplated the situation for a moment. At first, he looked almost annoyed, as though Sophie’s stubbornness was frustrating him. Then, his lips curled into a smile. “You’re quite persistent, Miss Foster.”

“I am,” she agreed.

“Very well. I’ll inform Miss Vacker of her acceptance as soon as possible,” Magnate Leto said, though he didn’t sound strictly happy about it. “And Miss Foster?”

“Yes?”

“You have a stubborn streak.” He paused, looking at her pensively. Sophie stiffened, unsure of how he would feel about it. “Hold onto that.”

Sophie relaxed. “I will, Magnate Leto. I promise.”

—

“The Chanterelle Ballroom is beautiful,” Biana said, giggling, swinging the hand that was holding Keefe’s, “but even more when it’s decorated.”

“Which is, of course, the reason I let you decorate,” Keefe said smoothly. “So that the ballroom could shine as radiantly as you.” Biana giggled once again. She’d been eating up his flirtatious remarks all evening, and it was clear to her that he was going to be hers.

They’d gone for a walk after they finished setting up for the party with the help of a few gnomes they’d met around campus. It was just the two of them, and it was romantic, and everything about it just felt… perfect.

Just like her, and him, and the two of them together.

Their perfect bubble containing only the two of them burst when someone’s footsteps echoed behind them. Biana moved the side to allow them to pass, doing a double take when she realized it was the headmaster.

Magnate Leto continued to walk past them, likely heading home for the evening, when he paused suddenly, turning around. “Miss Vacker. Mr. Sencen.” His frown deepened slightly when he acknowledged Keefe, and his lips curled into a smirk. Biana felt her stomach explode with fluttery things—he really was so attractive when he looked all mischievous…

“Magnate Leto,” Biana acknowledged.

“I was actually hoping to run into you at some point. I’m afraid I have good news for you.”

“If it’s good news, why are you afraid?”

“Because this was not my first choice,” he said with a sigh, “but starting this coming week, you will be a part of my sorcery seminar for the semester. If it truly means so much to you, you’d best be on time and prepared.”

Biana blinked with shock. She knew she deserved to be in the seminar, of course, and she had been hoping she’d soon be able to pester him into changing his mind—perhaps with a little bit of incentive regarding her family name—but what could have possibly changed his mind without her intervention. “Magnate Leto, truly, thank you—”

“Do not thank me,” Magnate Leto said, rolling his eyes. “It was not my idea. It was your roommate’s.”

Her… roommate?

Sophie?

“Sophie advocated for me? But… why?”

“I have no idea. Something about appearances and your determination. I wasn’t buying it, but she insisted that if I denied her request, she’d quit the seminar, and I can’t have that.” Magnate Leto looked genuinely disappointed, and though Biana was slightly offended, her mind was whirring with both excitement and confusion at the opportunity being granted to her and the way it came about.

“So I’m in the seminar? Officially? Just like that?”

“Yes, that’s what I said, isn’t it? I’ll hope that once we’re in the classroom setting, I won’t be having to repeat what I’ve very clearly communicated.” Without another word, Magnate Leto spun around and stalked off, clearly unhappy that he was being forced to include her in the class.

Being forced… by Sophie.

Who she hated.

Who hated her.

Right?

Biana shook her head sharply, as though the motion could ward off the pesky guilt gnawing in her chest. Why should she feel bad for disliking her roommate? Was it because of the backhanded comments she’d made about her behind her back? Surely Sophie did the same thing! Was it because she didn’t want to share more of her space with another person than necessary? That was completely understandable! Just because Sophie had randomly decided to do a nice thing didn’t mean she had to feel guilty.

In fact, that was probably what she was doing: trying to make Biana feel guilty, or achieve some sort of moral superiority over her. Well, she wouldn’t let Sophie get the best of her that way. Truly good people don’t need to flaunt it, so there would be no need to retaliate.

“What’s wrong?” Keefe asked. “You look unnerved.”

“Nothing. I got what I wanted.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There isn’t one,” Biana said brightly, surprised she had to force the smile, though the gesture came naturally. It was hardly the first time she’d had to fake being happy for appearances, though she didn’t understand why in this moment she couldn’t just be happy. “We should head back to the party. The early people will probably start arriving soon.”

—

Keefe danced with Biana almost the entire night, only taking breaks to grab food or a drink or introduce himself to the people at the party. It became quite crowded, and by the end of the night, it was official: he’d earned his rightful title as the most popular guy in the school.

Which, Biana realized with satisfaction, meant he was practically betrothed to her.

Dex had been spinning Amy in circles, acting the part of dancing with her as she waved her arms gracefully. It was truly very sweet. Biana may have encouraged him to ask her just to get him off her back so she could flirt with Keefe, but from what she could tell, she’d done a genuinely good thing. Just look at the two of them, having the time of their lives!

“What are you smiling about?” Keefe asked, grinning. “Could it have something to do with being close to me?”

“Always that, but also, look at them,” Biana said, nodding towards Dex and Amy.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Keefe said genuinely, his voice sounding slightly different. Biana wondered if he was like her, and spent most of his life saying things he didn’t mean.

Surely he meant his feelings for her, though—they’d both made that pretty clear. 

Biana turned her eyes back to Keefe, but he was still looking past her in Amy’s direction, looking distracted. “Hey, I met her earlier. Why is everyone avoiding her?”

She spun around. Making her way towards her sister was Sophie Foster, who, for some reason, had chosen to show up to the party. Her eyes were fixed on her sister, and she smiled slightly at the adorable sight of Dex helping her dance in her wheelchair. She barely seemed to notice that a large bubble of space was forming around her until people started pointing and whispering.

She must have been used to being avoided, but whispers were difficult to ignore.

“Oh, there’s a reason for that,” Biana said, trying to put on her gossipy voice, but for some reason, she couldn’t slip into that persona as easily as usual. Something about Sophie advocating for her to join Magnate Leto’s seminar had really thrown her off. “You probably can’t see from her, but she has natural brown eyes. I say natural, of course, because they’re real, but it isn’t natural, is it? We’re worried she has some kind of contagious disease.”

“I mean, I met her earlier, and my eyes aren’t turning brown, so I doubt that,” Keefe said drily.

“Wait. You did?”

“Yeah, briefly. How do you know each other?”

Biana looked back over at Sophie, who had defiantly begun to dance in an attempt to show everyone she didn’t care at all what they thought. “She’s my roomate,” Biana said distractedly, her mind wandering to a truly insane idea. She owed Sophie, didn’t she?

“Do you two get along? I mean, from a distance, of course,” he joked, referring to her comment about being worried the brown eyes were contagious.

She was about to spit out a quick and offended No! before she realized she wouldn’t really mean it. And what did she gain from saying something she didn’t mean right now?

“Yeah,” Biana said, gripping Keefe’s hand as though he could give her courage without even knowing what she was about to do. She stepped forward slightly, and Keefe copied the motion.

“I’ll say this for her,” Keefe said, still staring at Sophie, “she doesn’t care what anyone else thinks of her.” It could have been any old comment, but Biana understood the depth to what he was saying because she felt the same way.

There was something deeply meaningful to him about being able to disregard others’ thoughts of you. It was something a Vacker couldn’t do, and it was definitely something a prince couldn’t do.

But… “She does. She just pretends not to. I feel terrible,” she whispered.

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, it isn’t,” Biana agreed. She let go of Keefe’s hand and stepped through the crowd into the bubble of space surrounding Sophie, quieting the whispers immediately. Everyone wanted to know what she would do. All eyes were on her.

But right now, she wasn’t performing.

Sophie kept right on dancing, meeting her eyes like a challenge. Slowly, Biana began to mirror Sophie’s movements, dancing in the same random style she’d chosen. Biana saw Sophie’s eyes widen slightly—she hadn’t been expecting that, but she didn’t stop.

The whispering started back up again.

Now it was time to perform. “Sophie’s the only one here with any taste in dance, it seems,” she declared loudly. “Have the rest of you not been reading the Lost Cities Trendsetter?!”

Biana clapped her hands, signaling for the others to join them, and offended at the prospect that they might not have been keeping up with the latest fashion, they began to mimic Sophie and Biana’s dance, the fluid motions keeping to the beat of the music in an odd way.

Biana walked slowly closer to Sophie, meeting her brown-eyed gaze with her own. “Thanks for getting me into the seminar,” she said, just loudly enough for Sophie to hear her over the music and chatter. “Really.”

Sophie’s eyes seemed skeptical, but as though without her permission, her lips curled into a smile. “Thanks for… that. What you just did. I appreciate it.”

“You can repay me by keeping your stuff in your half of the room.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Half?”

Biana nodded. “Whatever the plan was supposed to be, you and I are roommates now, and it’s only fair that we split the room evenly.”

Now Sophie’s smile finally reached her eyes. “You’re not so bad after all, Biana,” she said, halfway to herself.

“And you’re not contagious,” Biana decided. “Which is what really matters.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, but both of them giggled. “Come on,” Biana suggested, “let's go dance that strange combination of movements I just told everyone was the epitome of modern style.”

“What about Keefe?”

“Keefe’s a smooth-talker and a prince, he’ll be fine. Now are you going to show me you can have fun, or no?” Biana raised her eyebrow in a challenge, knowing Sophie wouldn’t dare back down.

Sophie took both of her hands. “I bet you’ll have even more fun with me than you did with Keefe.”

“Oh, I’ll take that bet.”

“It’s on.”

—Popular—

“This was your very first party ever?!” Biana shrieked, kicking her legs where they dangled off the side of her bed. She always acted a little goofy, and Sophie was beginning to wonder if her silliness and frivolity was a facade to make herself seem easier to talk to or more palatable. However, tonight Sophie was almost certain she was at least a little tipsy, which may or may not have had something to do with the drinks she’d watched her roommate consume.

“Do funerals count?” Sophie asked, recalling the few she’d sat through as a child while her parents mourned family members she’d hardly ever met. It wasn’t often that she’d been brought out of the house, anyway. Her family didn’t want her to raise alarm or be subjected to terrible prejudices, and as a result, she’d hardly ever seen the light of day.

Biana blinked in reply, searching for a response. “...Your very first party!” she repeated. She moved on quickly, bouncing off of her bed and plopping down onto Sophie’s. “I know. Let’s both tell each other a secret we’ve never told anyone. I’ll go first.” Biana took a deep breath, clearly eager to share whatever this “secret” was. “Keefe and I… are going to be married!” She turned around, burying her face in the blankets as she squealed.

Sophie wasn’t… completely surprised, given what little she’d gathered so far about her popular roommate and the shallow prince, but it still seemed really fast. “He’s asked you already?” she checked, trying her best not to sound judgemental (and probably failing entirely).

“Oh no, he doesn’t know it yet,” Biana clarified, and Sophie chuckled, shaking her head. She wondered how much of Biana truly believed that the relationship she’d immediately begun with this boy would actually last that long, and how much of her was simply having fun with the prospect, caught up in the thrill of her latest fling. “Okay, it's your turn! Tell me a secret.”

Sophie had plenty of secrets, but none she was going to share right now. “Like what?” she asked, hoping Biana would give her something to bounce off of so she could say something equally as ridiculous as Biana’s.

“Like… um…” Biana’s eyes searched around the room for a moment, eventually landing on Sophie’s neck. “Like… why do you never take off that little bird necklace?” She reached out to touch it, and Sophie swatted her hand away, instinctively scooting backwards.

She’d forgotten she was wearing it. It wasn’t something she ever consciously considered, it just… was. She reached up and ran her fingers over the pendant: a small black swan. “I just do,” she answered. The truth was, she’d always had it from the moment she was a small child, and she’d always suspected it was some gift from her parents. It wasn’t something they’d ever talked about, but she never, ever, ever took it off.

Biana pouted dramatically. “That’s not fair, I told you a really good one!”

Sophie rolled her eyes, unsure how serious Biana was being. “Okay, fine.” There wasn’t much to say, after all. “It’s something my mother gave me when I was a baby, I think. Or my father. I wore it every day as a child, and I don’t know if we ever really talked about it, but I have this dream, or maybe this memory, of my mother telling me it was a sign of how special I was. I never understood why I needed a necklace to be that kind of sign, when…” She gestured to her own eyes. “I was clearly never going to be normal. But I wear it every day, I guess as a reminder that I could be special in a good way instead of just being… weird.”

“You’re definitely that,” Biana agreed.

“Weird?”

“Special in a good way,” Biana corrected. “Well, weird too. But still in a good way. I mean… it takes a good kind of special—and weird—to force the headmaster to include someone in your special one-on-one class, especially someone you don’t even really… like.” Biana pursed her lips together, looking away. “Why did you do that, anyway?” Biana asked, her voice small.

Despite the fact that Sophie had only done it because of Amy, she was suddenly incredibly glad she had. She’d hated Biana for her shallowness and popularity and attitude and empty-headedness, but now that she was looking, she saw so much more than that. A truly shallow rich girl wouldn’t have approached her at the party as she tried to dance in the middle of the floor, joining in her somewhat odd dance and snapping at the room that her dance moves were actually what was in style, and why didn’t they know about that trend by now? A truly dumb, substanceless girl wouldn’t be asking her this question now, either.

“Well, Amy was really grateful that you set her up with Dex. He asked her to dance, and… well, she thought it was a lot of fun. She’s never gotten to do that before, because of… you know.”

“That was sweet of him,” Biana agreed, though she sounded like she hadn’t expected it.

“Is he not usually sweet?”

Biana shrugged. “I don’t know him very well.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. Dex was always hanging on Biana’s every word, and it seemed almost as though they traveled together—though in hindsight, perhaps Dex was simply following her around like a lost puppy, while she remained blissfully unaware (or perhaps purposefully ignored his attention).

Biana suddenly gasped at the light coming through their window. “Look!” she squealed, clapping her hands. “It’s tomorrow! And Sophie…” Biana spun around, an excited, scheming grin on her face. The glint in her eye told Sophie she should be afraid. “Now that we’re friends, I’ve decided to make you my new project.”

Project. Was Biana planning on dressing her up to look like her? Because that was so not happening. “You really don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Biana said, waving off Sophie’s dismissal. “That’s what makes me so nice. You see,” she began as she sat down behind Sophie, beginning to undo the braid in her hair, “I understand not everyone can be born into my brother and I’s family situation. We’re quite fortunate, you see, and when I see others who are clearly… well, less fortunate, I tend to become determined to help!”

“I’m really okay,” Sophie insisted as her hair fell down her back. She wasn’t used to wearing her hair down, and being able to feel all of her hair was somewhat foreign.

“No, when someone needs a makeover, I’m the first person to know exactly what they need. Trust me,” Biana said confidently.

“Okay, even if I do need a makeover…” Sophie still wasn’t a huge fan of Biana’s use of the word “need,” but decided to humor her, “I’m not sure I want one. I’m perfectly fine with the way I am right now.”

“Yes, but nobody else is,” Biana said bluntly, making her way across the room and pulling out a drawer on one of her shelves. She began to sift through the drawer, looking for something in particular. “Your self-confidence is admirable—Keefe said so at the dance, by the way—but you aren’t popular.”

“Keefe said what?” Sophie asked, her heart rate quickening. She had a very low opinion of the prince, of course, given the fact that his carriage had nearly knocked her over on the first day and he’d barely seemed apologetic. In fact, the last words he’d said to her face were a rather insulting joke about her eye color. She’d stomped away immediately, but the prince had reached out just slightly after she’d left, almost like he wanted to take back the joke, or justify it, or pretend to apologize. But he’d become easily distracted by Biana, as expected.

So it wasn’t like she cared what Keefe’s opinion of her was. 

But something about discovering that there was more to Biana than the ditzy mask she wore made her just a little curious about Keefe Sencen—especially if he was apparently complimenting her behind her back in large social settings.

“When you started dancing, he said you didn’t seem to care what anyone thought, and that he respected that. Or something along those lines. Not sure I really remember.” Biana giggled. “I should spend more time listening to the things he says instead of just looking at him, but he’s so —found it!” Biana pulled out a sparkly pink bag with tons of zippers on the sides. “This is my makeover kit. It includes makeup with lots of other foundation and blush and lipstick shades, so I can do makeup on other people. I have a whole other bag for myself.”

Sophie gave up on fighting Biana, who was clearly determined to see this through. Besides, secretly, Sophie wondered, just slightly, if Biana might be onto something. Not that Sophie could ever be popular, or cared about being popular… but could Biana make her pretty?

Even with her brown eyes?

If anyone could do it…

“Alright, close your eyes,” Biana said. Sophie obeyed, hearing the sound of multiple zippers as Biana sifted through her kit. “This is only step one, you know. There’s lots of rules to being popular,”

“Who said I was going to follow those rules?” Sophie asked wryly.

“Me. We’re friends now, remember? So anyway, you have a lot of freedom with what to wear, but it has to be in style. I’ll find you a good fashion magazine. You need a better color palette. As a rule, you can have maybe one gray tunic in your closet, and that is it! You also need more than one pair of shoes, and honestly, whoever sold these shoes to you should be fired. We’re working on the hair thing right now, but honestly, the genetic lottery you lost with your eyes you made up with in your hair. It’s silky and blonde, which is super in style right now.”

“How can natural hair be in style?” Sophie wondered. “We can’t choose how we’re born.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like altering one’s appearance is impossible,” Biana pointed out. “I don’t dye my hair blonde because it’s thick and wavy, which is a popular style for dark hair. You need to hang out with the right friends, which is easy, because I’m your roommate and Keefe clearly already thinks you’re cool. We should also probably find you a sport—”

“Absolutely not,” Sophie said, her eyes flying open. “You can put however much of this you want on my face, but I’m not taking up sports.”

“Relax, Sophie. And close your eyes again,” Biana instructed, resuming her earlier task. “It’s not a big deal. You don’t have to be good. You have to look cute doing it.”

“I’m more of a books-and-studying sort of girl,” Sophie reminded her. “Any chance my sport can be schoolwork?”

“Eh…” Biana seemed unsure. “If you can look cute doing it, maybe it could be an aesthetic. I mean, my brother gets top grades, and he’s popular, but he’s also really good at tackle bramble. I wouldn’t push any boundaries when you’re new to being well-liked.”

“You don’t know that everyone is suddenly going to like me just because you told me how to change my entire personality,” Sophie pointed out.

“Sure they will. I’ve been following these rules for years now, and look at me! Everyone wants to be my friend.”

“I didn’t,” Sophie pointed out. She felt Biana pause what she was doing, and she opened her eyes to see her new friend looking pensive. “I mean, I like you now, but that’s only because I realized you’re more than all that other stuff.”

Biana nodded slowly. “Yeah,” she agreed. “You were different. But you were also the first—and that difference hasn’t exactly gotten a huge crowd of people wanting to be your friend.”

“Maybe,” Sophie admitted. “But that’s not what really matters, is it?”

“Isn’t it?” Biana countered. “Think about all the people in power. They didn’t get voted for because they were unique and thought differently from everyone else, they gained power because everyone agreed with them. And you know the fastest way to get everyone else to agree with you?”

“Use facts and logic to support your points?” Sophie guessed.

“No. The fastest way is to just agree with everybody else.”

Sophie didn’t have time to voice her dislike for that idea, however true it may have been. Biana gasped, pulling a small red hair piece out of her bag. “It’s perfect,” she breathed, reaching up to softly push Sophie’s blonde hair out of her face, pinning it up with the small plastic red flower. “You look amazing in red,” she breathed. She walked over to her bedside table, grabbing a small, handheld mirror. “Meet your reflection, Miss Sophie Foster,” Biana told her, handing the mirror to her. “You’re beautiful.”

Sophie almost gasped when she saw what she looked like. She hardly recognized herself.

“And for the record,” Biana murmured as Sophie stared at her made-over reflection, “you won the bet. I had more fun with you than Keefe.”

Sophie’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk at the words, though she couldn’t focus on them enough to figure out a response. She was too shocked by what her face looked like in the mirror.

Biana was right about the way the red hairpiece complimented her complexion, and somehow, Biana had managed to avoid doing the kind of makeup she and her friends wore that Sophie thought was endlessly goofy. Instead, light blush and contour accentuated her features, and a light red lip gloss seemed to both be beautifying and healing the cracks in her lips at once. As inconvenient as she found wearing her hair down to be, the way it cascaded down over her shoulders made her feel like one of the other girls she’d seen around Foxfire University.

She almost looked pretty.

In fact… she did look pretty.

But her eyes were still very, very brown—and that wasn’t something Biana could fix. “I have to go,” Sophie breathed, not sure she could keep talking with Biana about this. Biana was right, she was beautiful, and yet, she was sure nobody except Biana would ever see it.

She set the mirror carefully down as she walked briskly towards the door of their suite. “You’re welcome!” Biana called from behind her, but Sophie didn’t turn around to thank her. Maybe she should have. Or maybe she was right not to. She wasn’t sure.

Her appearance would never be what other people wanted it to be. She could humor Biana and try to follow all her little rules, but she was sure she would never be “popular.”

Besides… there was no way she was ever going to just agree with everyone else simply to ensure that others ensured her opinion.

That much she was sure of.

—I’m Not That Girl—

Sophie tried not to feel too ridiculous wearing Biana’s clothes. She clearly knew what she was doing, given all the friends she had, even if some of her methods Sophie found morally objectionable. If Biana said this outfit was in fashion, it probably was—Sophie trusted Biana not to try to make fun of her anymore.

“Wow,” a somewhat familiar voice said behind her. Sophie spun around, finding herself face to face with Keefe Sencen, the notorious prince himself. He looked her up and down quickly, the smirk he was famous for settling onto his face. “You’ve been… Biana-ified.”

“Uh… yeah.” Sophie looked down at herself quickly. “It was her idea.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he chuckled, looking her over again. But then the smirk melted off his face, and there was something sincere in his icy blue eyes when he told her, “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

Sophie blinked.

She agreed, of course, but… Keefe was the last person she expected to hear the words from.

“Okay class,” Professor Fintan exclaimed, clapping his hands together and prompting all of them to take their seats. Sophie wondered if maybe today she’d be allowed to sit next to Biana, but realized she wasn’t in class. Perhaps she’d been out a little too late the night before—though strangely, Keefe, who was well known for skipping class whenever he got the chance, was present. “I unfortunately have sad news for all of you. As of today, licensed pyrokinetics are no longer permitted to teach at Foxfire University.”

A murmur rippled throughout the class. Sophie wasn’t sure what they were saying, but she knew she wasn’t going to stand for this. “What do you mean?!” Sophie exclaimed. “Isn’t pyrokinesis just a learned form of sorcery?”

The professor’s small smile carried weight, as though he’d anticipated her being the one to understand. “It is, of course, and one I was asked to learn by the Council.” Soon, he’d drawn his lips so tight his expression couldn’t be called a smile at all.

“So why don’t they just ask you to practice a different form of sorcery?” Sophie insisted. “It doesn’t make sense that they would suddenly just—”

“And yet they have,” he interrupted. “Those in power aren’t always concerned with making sense.”

The sentence bore a horrible similarity to Biana’s carefree assertion that the way those in power gained their positions was by adapting to the opinions and interests of those around them.

Magnate Leto entered the room as though on cue, flanked by two members of campus security.

“Dr. Fintan Pyren, I’m afraid you are being requested to leave the building. This is your final warning.”

He turned to the Magnate, raising an eyebrow. “I simply thought a goodbye to my class was in order, seeing as I’ve been their professor for multiple weeks now.”

He’d been more than just a professor to Sophie. He’d been a mentor, a friend —someone who seemed to understand what it was like to be treated like you were different. Your magical talents are truly something, Miss Foster but you must be careful whose loyalty you count on when you choose when and how to use them. She’d suspected he’d been talking about his own experiences even then, but now that he was being forbidden to teach, she was sure of it.

“A goodbye is most certainly not in order,” Magnate Leto said firmly. “You have been banned from the premises. I’m afraid I must have you escorted from the campus.”

“Magnate Leto,” Sophie insisted, “there has to be something you can do about this.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t,” Magnate Leto said apologetically.

“Oh, there most certainly is,” Professor Fintan insisted, leveling a glare at the Magnate before turning back to address the class. “You are not being told the whole truth!” he insisted. “There is more to the story than any of them will tell you!”

The two members of campus security each grabbed one of his arms. He didn’t struggle, even for a moment, an eerie calm settling over his features. “Oh, I’ll go with you,” he murmured. “I’ll cooperate. But there are still people in this world who can see through the facade control gives you.” His eyes settled on Sophie. “Those people will be far more dangerous to you than I am.”

Sophie swallowed as Fintan Pyren, her professor, mentor and friend, was escorted from the room. She’d never thought of herself as dangerous.

Then again, she never thought she’d need to be dangerous.

Magnate Leto cleared his throat once the door to the classroom shut behind him. “I am terribly sorry about that,” he informed them.

“Why are pyrokinetics being banned from teaching?” Sophie asked insistently. Magnate Leto had also been a mentor to her, taking her on as his sole student in sorcery before she convinced him to include Biana. He couldn’t be behind this, and yet, supposedly, he was in charge of Foxfire University. So was this order coming from even higher than that?

Was this something the Council was behind?

But that didn’t make any sense. The Council was the one who asked Fintan to learn pyrokinesis. He was a talented sorcerer, and if there were as few of those lately as Magnate Leto seemed to believe, why not simply ask him to put his talents to a different use? Why ban him from teaching altogether, simply for following their instructions? There had to be a different reason. This couldn’t be something that came from the very top.

“Pyrokinesis has proven to be a volatile form of magic that has been leading to… instability in those who practice it,” Magnate Leto said carefully.

“If it’s hurting him, why can’t he just stop?” Sophie pressed.

“These are not the matters I am here to discuss,” Magnate Leto said, and Sophie had the distinct sense he was avoiding her question. An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. “I am here, instead, to introduce your new teacher, Professor Alina. Alina has served the Council for years and stood in for me as headmistress in my absence.”

“It is an honor to be a professor at Foxfire University,” Professor Alina said, and despite her melodic voice, Sophie was inclined almost immediately not to trust her. Maybe it was just because of how special Fintan had been to her, or maybe it was because Alina’s voice was just a little too soft, a little too smooth. “While I am here to impart to you the knowledge of our history, we must not forget that for every past, there is a future. And right now, the future of the Lost Cities hinges on the safety we will achieve if sorcerers who specialize in certain… unsavory methods.”

“Such as pyrokinesis?” Stina piped up.

“Precisely,” Professor Alina agreed, causing Sophie’s insides to twist. Magnate Leto seemed content that the room was under control as he nodded and took his leave, but Sophie’s eyes were beginning to swim with something tinted red. “For the moment, pyrokinesis is the only banned practice, but this is only the beginning. Shades, or those who choose to practice the art of bending the shadows that control the world, are likely to be banned next.”

Sophie’s hands curled into fists. She’d learned in Magnate Leto’s sorcery seminar that all forms of magic were controllable, and that each was as easy to start and stop as the last once it was mastered. A licensed pyrokinetic or Shade should easily be able to switch to another discipline, assuming there was truly a good reason behind the bans of the talents in the first place!

Once she finally met the Council, something Magnate Leto was sure would happen due to her powers, maybe she could bring this to their attention. There had to be a misunderstanding, something they could fix!

“Now, one of the benefits of arresting sorcerers who practice these forms of magic is that they will never be able to teach them to—”

“Arrested?!” Sophie suddenly cried out, red swimming in her vision. She needed to get that checked out. She wasn’t sure exactly why…

“Yes, Miss Foster. How else are we to ensure that their knowledge never spreads?”

How else are we to ensure that their knowledge never spreads?

It was just like Fintan had said that one time. He’d sworn to Sophie over their lunch that people would do anything to control the movement of knowledge, and that if you knew anything two powerful…

Sophie’s vision exploded with crimson. When she could finally see again, Alina had dropped to the floor and was holding her head and scrunching her eyes, as though in terrible pain. When she surveyed the room, her heart dropped as she realized everyone else seemed to be under the same spell.

Everyone except one person. “What did you just do?!” Keefe exclaimed.

“I don’t know!” Sophie shouted, her voice shrill with panic. “I got mad.” She still wasn’t sure what had happened, but it seemed an awful lot like Inflicting.

She’d never actually done it before. She’d never even tried to do it before. In fact, Magnate Leto hadn’t taught it as a part of his seminar. The only reason she knew it existed was because of her sorcery textbook, and even then, the practice was painted in a somewhat negative light. If pyrokinesis and shadow control were being banned…

…Well, this wasn’t something Sophie was sure she wanted to have a natural talent for.

Then again, she hadn’t chosen any of her natural talents.

“Well, don’t get mad at me!” Keefe said, somewhat in a panic as he grabbed her hand. Both of them ran instinctively from the room, neither of them stopping as the adrenaline carried them down the steps of the building and out one of the side doors. Class was still in session, so there were barely any people outside as they collapsed side by side on one of the benches, catching their breath. “What are you going to do?” he asked her.

“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted. “I don’t know what that was, and I don’t know that it’s going to be… perceived well.”

“You mean because they’re arresting pyrokinetics and shades,” Keefe said, practically reading her mind.

Sophie blinked, surprised. “How did you know?”

Keefe raised an eyebrow. “Because you’re freaking out. And because we just saw Professor Fintan get arrested. And because you clearly care. You think I’m really stupid, don’t you?”

“No, not really stupid,” Sophie corrected. She didn’t understand how his own reputation, which he had taken upon himself to make sure the student body was well aware of, could offend him when she believed it.

Keefe rolled his eyes. “Why is it every time I see you, you’re causing some sort of commotion?”

“I don’t cause commotions, I am one,” Sophie corrected.

“That’s for sure.”

Sophie glared at him. “Oh, so you think I should just keep my mouth shut? Is that it?”

“No, that’s not what I—”

“You think I want to be this way? That I want to care this much?”

“I—”

“Don’t you think I realize how much easier my life would be if I didn’t?”

“Do you ever let anyone else talk?!” Keefe interrupted, snapping her out of her ramble. Sophie blinked, realizing she didn’t actually know what he was trying to say.

“Oh,” she said, “sorry.” But when he opened his mouth again, she suddenly added, “But can I just say one more thing?!”

Keefe smirked, as she proved his point, but didn’t seem offended as he gestured for her to continue.

“You don’t have to be here, with me, right now,” Sophie said, meeting his icy gaze. “You didn’t have to follow me out here, knowing that I lost control with a dangerous type of magic. And you definitely didn’t have to sit down and start trying to understand me.”

“Yeah, I didn’t have to,” Keefe agreed. “But I did. So?”

“So, no matter how shallow and self-absorbed you pretend to be—”

“Excuse me?” Keefe asked, cutting her off. “There’s no pretense here.” He gestured to himself. “I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.”

“You’re not,” Sophie told him, ignoring the irony of his last words. “Or you wouldn’t be so unhappy.” Maybe it was his eyes. She didn’t know. She didn’t know him, and yet, as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew they were true. Maybe it was the way Keefe reacted, standing and backing away slightly, like she’d somehow torn through all of his defenses and he had to rebuild them as quickly as possible. But she knew she finally understood the prince.

“Fine, then,” he said defensively, “if you don’t want to talk to me—”

“No, I do!” Sophie insisted, standing quickly, not sure where her sudden conviction came from. “I do, I just—” She suddenly realized she’d reached for his hand, and he’d taken it, and she lost the rest of whatever sentence she’d been about to say. Her eyes locked onto where they were holding hands.

This was Keefe Sencen. What in the Lost Cities was she doing?

Both of them sat back down on the bench, as though they’d reached some silent agreement that neither of them was about to walk away. “So… you really think I’m not going to end up in trouble for having the wrong talents?”

“You’re not,” Keefe assured her, and he sounded so confident that it was easy, just for the moment, so believe him. “The Council would be crazy not to want you on their side. I mean, that back there… did you ever even practice that?”

Sophie shook her head. “No. I read about it, like, once, but even then it was just what it does, and not how to do it.”

“You’re clearly an insanely talented witch, Sophie.”

“I’m not a witch yet,” Sophie said, her cheeks flushing. “I’m just… a sorceress-in-training.”

“Who dropped an entire roomful of people to the ground just by getting angry,” Keefe countered. “Look, my point is, you have leverage here. They’ll listen to you because they need someone like you.”

Sophie almost started arguing that they didn’t need her, just for the sake of continuing to argue, when she suddenly looked over at him, seeing him in a different light. He was trying to convince her she was worth something, wasn’t he?

Him. Keefe Sencen. The prince from the west with the “scandalacious” reputation, always getting kicked out of universities until he found his way to Foxfire, one of the most prestigious schools and quite perhaps the last he hadn’t already been through. The one Biana had immediately decided would one day be her husband, simply because of their families and the circumstances of their meeting.

He was from a whole other world.

And yet here he was, trying to convince her that she was one of the most special people in the Lost Cities.

After letting her grab his hand.

He hadn’t pulled away when she’d touched him, as though he’d been burned. It was something Sophie had grown used to, because so many people were worried her brown eyes must be contagious. But he’d let her, and he hadn’t freaked out, and he’d sat back down beside her and only further proved that his shallow, arrogant front was nothing more than a facade.

“What are you thinking?” Keefe asked softly, and Sophie realized she still hadn’t responded to the last thing he’d said.

“I’m thinking… that you’re a lot different than I thought you were,” Sophie said honestly. “In a good way. I don’t want you to feel like you have to pretend with me.” Where did that last part come from? “With me” as though they knew each other beyond the fact that he was dating her roommate as of the day before? What was she even talking about?

“It’s not all pretend, you know,” Keefe told her, which wasn’t what he’d said before. “When you say stuff and do stuff, that’s real, no matter what you’re thinking while you’re doing it. Even if it’s on purpose, or to make a point, it’s not like I’m pretending.”

He’d clearly thought about this before now. “Well, if what you’ve been saying in the last few minutes is real, then thank you,” Sophie said genuinely. “I needed that encouragement. And I appreciate it. Really.”

“I can’t believe you managed something like that on accident,” Keefe said softly.

“Me neither,” Sophie admitted. “But I really didn’t mean to…”

“Then what did you mean to do?” It wasn’t an accusation. It was a question, and it wasn’t finished. Keefe still had something left to say, and Sophie stopped breathing, wondering what it would be. “And why was I the only one… you didn’t do it to?”

Sophie didn’t know.

Why him? Why Keefe Sencen, one of the few people she’d already known she didn’t like?

Looking in Keefe’s eyes was intense, not just because of their icy color, but because there was so much in them that he didn’t show on the rest of his face. But when he met her gaze, she couldn’t look away—and he seemed equally as mesmerized.

Neither of them broke the spell for just a few moments, letting it sit between them, like a moment of mutual understanding. Sophie wasn’t sure what exactly they were understanding about each other, because most of her brain had floated away, but she knew there was something special about the moment.

They couldn’t be more different, and yet, somehow, they understood.

Eventually Keefe stood up suddenly. “We should probably get to safety—I mean you to safety, because you’re worried about—actually you should go and see Magnate Leto, and ask him about whatever happened back there—I’m sure it won’t be an issue,” he rambled, his signature smoothness noticeably absent as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah. Yes, of course,” Sophie agreed, shaking her head to clear the fog. What did he mean he had to get to safety? What was he talking about? She had at least one idea, but it was one she could not linger on, not for more than a second, not even for the full duration of a second, not even at all. “I’ll… see you around?”

“Yeah. Of course. I’ll see you, Sophie.” And then both of them were gone, turned in opposite directions, their brisk steps carrying them far away from the bench where they’d had just one moment of magic.

What had happened back there? What had he seen in her eyes while she’d been looking into his? What did he figure out about her while she’d been learning to understand him?

And why did he suddenly feel like the two of them were in dangerous territory? It wasn’t like…

As though on cue, it began to rain, water soaking her hair and the fabric of her cape. It was as though the universe was trying to help her, shutting down whatever insanity her hummingbird heart was beginning to entertain.

You need to stop this, Sophie, she told herself. There are some things Biana was made for that you just weren’t. She repeated the words over and over again, trying to remind herself that no matter how much makeup Biana put on her face, and no matter what clothing or shoes she wore, her eyes and what happened back in the classroom proved that she was never going to be that girl. She could pretend to be all she wanted, and Biana could try to make it true, but it wouldn’t happen. It wasn’t who she was.

It couldn’t be who she was.

So whatever butterflies she had in her stomach right now… they had to go.

—One Short Day—

Magnate Leto was in his office, and when Sophie knocked, he welcomed her in. “Sophie! I was just about to come find you.”

Sophie’s stomach dropped. “If this is about what happened in history class—”

“Oh, dear, no!” Magnate Leto exclaimed. “Is that why you came to see me?” Relief flooded her senses at his genuine surprise. “And you’re all wet! It must be pouring outside.”

Sophie nodded. “It started pouring almost as soon as I started coming here.”

“We’ll have to work on weather magic, then,” Magnate Leto decided. “It just so happens to be my specialty.”

Sophie sighed. This was good. This meant he wasn’t upset with what she’d done in history class. She hadn’t known Magnate Leto specialized in weather magic, since his affinity for telepathy was well-known (and the first trick he’d taught her, which she’d picked up “magnificently quickly”). But the fact that this was the topic he was stuck on was a good sign. “So what happened to the class… isn’t a big deal?”

“Oh, it’s a big deal for sure,” Magnate Leto corrected, nodding strongly. “You demonstrated immense power, and with a skill you’ve never been taught! Inflicting is far from easy, and yet, with just enough anger, you achieved it. Now, managing such anger will be important, because you hardly want to be losing control of your magic every time you feel an emotion strongly, but this is only further proof of your immense talent as a witch! In fact, this leads very nicely into what I was about to try to find you for.” Magnate Leto picked up a white envelope off his desk, handing it to Sophie.

Sophie stared at the seal.

The seal of the Council.

Twelve wizards and witches who ran the Lost Cities. The most powerful people in the Lost Cities, who, for some reason, had addressed a letter to her.

“Go on,” Magnate Leto prompted. “Open it.”

Sophie’s eyes widened as she scanned the letter. It was addressed to Sophie Foster, the most talented and promising sorceress of her generation, and signed The Council of the Lost Cities, with twelve individual signatures below the title. They were inviting her to Eternalia. They wanted to meet her. They thought they may have opportunities for her.

Opportunities for her. Sophie Foster.

“Wow,” Sophie breathed. “I don’t understand. How do they even know I exist?”

“I reached out,” Magnate Leto told her. “I let them know I had found quite possibly the most exceptional talent for sorcery that has ever been known, and that I believed you deserved the opportunity to show your worth to them.”

Sophie knew her eyes must be shining. This had always been her dream. Somehow, she’d always known that if she just worked hard enough, if she was smart enough, if she was good enough, then getting good grades and pleasing her professors would get her somewhere in life. She’d had the thought in the back of her mind, the possibility of meeting the Council, kneeling before them, being told that she was special in a good way, being offered a position that would make not a single person in the Lost Cities treat her differently for the color of her eyes…

“Thank you so much Magnate Leto,” Sophie said sincerely, trying to fight the urge to throw her arms around her professor and headmaster. “I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“You can thank me by making me proud in Eternalia, Sophie,” Magnate Leto said with a smile on his face. “You’ve earned this opportunity. Now you can show them how amazing you are.”

Sophie’s cheeks hurt from how hard she was smiling, but she couldn’t stop.

This could change everything.

“I will.”

—

The train came in, screeching to a halt, and everyone seemed to realize it was time for a goodbye. “Remember, eye contact,” Biana instructed. “And don’t forget to tell all the councillors how wonderful they are, they’ll love that. And be yourself! Well, within reason…”

“Feel free to be yourself,” Fitz said after his sister. Sophie didn’t know him the best, but he wanted to be with Biana when they said goodbye, and Sophie appreciated it.

“Sophie, I’m so proud of you,” Amy said, her eyes shining. She did look happy for her, but Sophie could tell she had tears about to spill. “And I know our parents would be too. We’re all so proud, aren’t we?”

“You’ll be alright, won’t you?” Sophie checked, her worry kicking in immediately. She’d always been the one to look after her sister.

“She’ll be fine,” Biana said confidently.

“Of course.” Fitz gestured to Dex. “You’ll continue to take care of her, right Dec?”

“It’s Dex!” Dex insisted, insulted, and Fitz’s eyes widened slightly. Both of the Vackers had never gotten his name right anywhere Sophie had heard, and even though they meant well, she wasn’t surprised it was beginning to annoy him. “And…” he looked at Biana, stars in his eyes, and then back at Amy. “I can’t do this anymore.” He suddenly darted away, as though something had frightened him.

Amy gasped. “Dex? What happened?”

“He just needs a little bit of time, Amy,” Sophie insisted. “He’s super nice, and he likes you, he just…” No one had ever had to take care of Amy all the time, no one except for Sophie, and she understood that Amy latching onto Dex may have seemed overwhelming for him. “It’ll be okay.”

“No, it won’t! This always happens!” Amy insisted. “There’s something about me that just isn’t right.” She looked down, quickly wheeling herself away in the same direction Dex had run off.

“Amy, wait!” Sophie insisted, about to run after her sister, but Biana placed a hand on her shoulder.

“She’ll have to manage without you, Sophie,” Biana said softly. “We all will.”

“You’ll be fine,” Sophie said, waving her hand. “You have Fitz.” She nodded towards Biana’s brother, who was still standing by them. “And Keefe! Where is he, by the way?” Sophie suddenly wondered, before shaking her head to clear it. “I mean, it’s not like I expected him to say goodbye to me. We barely know each other.”

“I don’t know him either!” Biana wailed. “I don’t have Keefe, not anymore!”

“Should I… leave you girls to talk?” Fitz asked somewhat awkwardly as Biana shook her shoulders.

“I think that might be for the best,” Sophie agreed. She and Fitz shared one last nod of acknowledgement before he walked away. “Biana, what do you mean? You two seem so happy together.”

“We were before,” Biana agreed miserably. “But now he just seems so distant and moodified… and he’s been thinking! Which really worries me!”

Sophie cracked a smile at Biana’s devastation over the fact. Keefe had built his reputation solidly around the idea that nothing mattered, and one could simply move through life, never caring, never thinking. If Keefe had started thinking, well… Sophie wanted to think she had something to do with that.

Besides, she hated Keefe spreading that message anyway. For him, sure, his life would work out anyway. He was a prince, and no matter what he did with his youth, he’d inherit a kingdom. But for others, his philosophy could really mess things up for someone it mattered to.

“It all started that day Professor Fintan was taken away,” Biana said, making Sophie pause. “I just never knew he cared that much about our pyrokinetic professor!”

It all started that day Professor Fintan was taken away.

The day the two of them had fled from the class after Sophie accidentally inflicted on everyone except him. The day she’d told him she didn’t buy for a second that he was as shallow and self-absorbed as he said he was. The day he’d told her her talents were special, and asked her why, if she’d subconsciously inflicted on everyone, why he was the only one she hadn’t hurt…

The day they’d met eyes, shared some kind of understanding, and nothing had been the same since.

And the day Keefe had started being distant from Biana? The day he’d started thinking?

Could that correlation possibly be a coincidence?

She was sure it wasn’t.

“Oh my goodness, there he is!” Biana exclaimed, suddenly flying to where she’d seen Keefe appear. “Keefe, dear! Here we are!”

She took his hand, leading him in Sophie’s direction, but Keefe’s eyes were trained on Sophie the entire time. He was holding a bouquet of poppies, which he extended towards Sophie. Sophie’s heart kickstarted. What did the flowers mean?

“I’m so happy for you, Sophie,” Keefe said, his fingers brushing against hers as she accepted the bouquet. She needed to get her hummingbird heart in line, now. The flowers were a goodbye gift, she didn’t like or know Keefe very well, and his girlfriend was right there.

“Yes, we’re both so happy,” Biana emphasized, taking Keefe’s arm.

Keefe smiled, though it looked slightly pained, and he didn’t lean into Biana’s touch. “Sophie, I’ve been thinking—”

“Yes, I heard,” Sophie agreed wryly.

“—About that day Professor Fintan was taken away, and… everything,” Keefe said, stealing a glance at Biana, who pretended not to notice. “I think about that day a lot.”

She hoped Biana couldn’t hear how loudly her heart was beating, how much Sophie was reading into the words… Keefe had been thinking about their conversation. He’d been thinking about it a lot.

Enough that Biana had noticed.

“I think about that day a lot, too,” Sophie said softly, wondering if there was something sitting in the air between them that would never find a home. She certainly wasn’t about to let it get cozy in her heart.

“So do I,” Biana said suddenly, stepping between the two of them. “I think about it constantly. How could they have fired Professor Fintan just for practicing pyrokinesis? It’s not like he did anything wrong.”

“Were you even in class that day?” Keefe wondered.

“You were in class?!” Biana exclaimed.

“I… yeah,” Keefe said, stumbling over his words. Sophie had been wondering about that, actually—with his reputation, he should have been the last one she expected to be there, and yet, he was.

She was really glad he was.

“Why?” Biana asked, glancing quickly between him and Sophie, before turning back to Keefe, seemingly discarding the thought. And she should discard the thought, because it was ridiculous. Keefe didn’t… he couldn’t…

“I just… Biana—”

“Keefe—”

“Sophie.” Keefe’s eyes had turned back to her. “Good luck.” And in an instant he was gone, leaving nothing but lingering tension and a beautiful bouquet of poppies Sophie couldn’t stop staring at, like they meant something.

“There, see?!” Biana exclaimed. Her eyes welled up with tears, and though it seemed like an extreme reaction for someone she hadn’t known very long, Sophie still felt obligated to comfort her friend.

“Oh Biana, don’t cry!” Sophie insisted, putting one of her arms around him. “It doesn’t matter what Keefe does or if he thinks. Everyone will love you anyway!”

“Everyone doesn’t matter, I want him! I don’t even think he’s perfect anymore, but I still want him.” Biana suddenly gasped, as though the most horrific thought in the world had just occurred to her. “This must be what other people feel like!” she exclaimed. “How do they bear it?”

Biana sounded so sincerely distraught, Sophie felt bad for cracking a smile. Luckily, the first impulse that occurred to her was one that would surely make her feel better. “Come with me,” Sophie said suddenly.

Biana blinked, the tears clearing. “Where?”

“To Eternalia.”

Biana gasped once again, a happy surprise settling over her face. “I’ve always wanted to see Eternalia!”

It was hard to believe that the Vacker children had never been to the capital of the Lost Cities even once, but there was so much genuine joy in her eyes that the excitement was infectious. Sophie grabbed her hand as the two of them ran to the train, giggling as she showed her invitation from the Council and they boarded.

—

“Oh my goodness, the buildings!” Sophie exclaimed. Everything in the Lost Cities was made of crystal, and yet, everything in Eternalia seemed to sparkle in a way she’d never seen before. “That’s got to be the biggest library I’ve ever seen!” Sophie would have to visit it before the day was over, reading every book she possibly could.

“The salons!” Biana added. “Every place we’ve passed seems like somewhere I’ve got to try. And everybody looks so… fashionable!” She turned to Sophie, a satisfied grin on her face. “It’s like we belong here, Sophie. Both of us. Anyone, even.”

It was true. There seemed to be something for everyone, and the diversity around them made Sophie feel like even her brown eyes didn’t immediately stand out. Nobody seemed to have noticed or looked her in the eye long enough to care. No staring, no pointing, no whispering… it was refreshing.

“Can you believe you’re going to live here someday?” Biana exclaimed. “Probably soon?”

“Assuming the Council is impressed with me,” Sophie pointed out.

“Which they will be.” Biana rolled her eyes. “Be real, Sophie—you’re Magnate Leto’s star student. He says he’s never met anyone as talented as you.”

Sophie had never thought of herself that way before. But now, she truly was daring to hope that this was what she was good at. This would be the thing that secured her place in the Lost Cities. This could fix… everything.

She could never be normal. Not with her eyes. But if she was respected… well, there was a such thing as special in a good way.

“I hope I’ll live here too someday,” Biana added. “As a witch as well, assuming my sorcery major goes better than it’s going now.” Magic was a bit of a sore spot, especially since she shared the class with Sophie, who was far better at the discipline. “I’ll figure it out, though. I will be a sorceress.”

“I believe you,” Sophie said sincerely. “You can do anything you set your mind to, Biana. Even if Magnate Leto doesn’t see it yet.”

Biana’s lips curled into a smile. “Thanks, Sophie. You’re right, of course, but it’s nice to hear someone say it.”

Sophie laughed as they made their way towards the palace at the center of the city, the butterflies in her stomach shifting from excitement to nervousness and then back again. She didn’t know how to feel as they ascended the ornate steps, or as she showed her invitation to the guards, or as the giant gates opened, allowing her and Biana to step inside.

The man directly inside recognized her invitation. “Sophie Foster,” he said with a nod, recognizing her name. “And who is this?”

“Biana Vacker,” Biana introduced confidently.

“She’s with me,” Sophie added, but the man needed little convincing. Biana’s last name carried… weight.

“The Council wants to see you as soon as possible,” he explained as he led them across the wide and ornate space towards another room of the palace. “They’ve cleared the day’s schedule. You must be very important,” he acknowledged, respect evident in his voice as he threw open yet another tall and wide pair of doors. “Sophie Foster and Biana Vacker!” he exclaimed as the two of them walked in. The doors shut with a click behind them.

The twelve councillors sat on twelve thrones, each wearing a circlet that matched their throne. The twelve all-powerful sorcerers who led the Lost Cities.

And standing in front of them… “Magnate Leto?” Sophie exclaimed, hardly realizing she’d just addressed him before she’d acknowledged any of the councillors. “What are you doing here?”

“The Council is quite generous,” he said by way of explanation. “You do something for them, and they will do much for you. I am now the new press secretary of the Council!”

“Ooh! That’s a very important job,” Biana said with a short nod of her head. “The press is very important. Public image. Very crucial.”

What had Magnate Leto done for the Council? Were they that excited to meet her—or, as headmaster of Foxfire University, had he somehow had something to do with the ban on pyrokinetic teachers…?

She shook the thought from her head. What a silly notion! Magnate Leto was a sorcerer himself of many disciplines. He would never turn on his fellow wizards in that way. Surely, there had to be something more than that going on.

“Okay, we should probably do this right now, shouldn’t we,” Biana realized, before dropping onto one of her knees. Sophie followed suit, glad that Biana knew how to properly greet the Council.

“Both of you may rise,” a gorgeous blonde councillor in a pink gown invited warmly. Sophie recognized her out of magazines as Councillor Oralie. Her name was also inscribed on her throne behind her, and Sophie quickly scanned across all twelve, matching each face to a name. “Don’t worry too much about formalities,” she added. “We are so excited to have you here. Feel free to relax!”

“Yes, do forgive the theatrics,” Councillor Emery added. “People do expect a sort of drama and grand entrance for the Council, and you’ve got to give the people what they want.”

Biana nodded vigorously. “Exactly,” she agreed.

“Biana Vacker,” Councillor Terik noted, remembering her name from her introduction. “Alden Vacker’s daughter, correct? One of our most valuable emissaries.”

Biana’s eyes shone. “Yes, his daughter!”

“She is the other student in my sorcery class at Foxfire,” Magnate Leto added, though he looked less than thrilled to share the news. “Sophie is, as I mentioned, the true talent.”

Biana did a good job of not looking terribly insulted. “Yes, well, I aspire to master the discipline, even if it does not come as naturally to me as it does to others,” Biana said proudly, refusing to back away.

“Such a position is quite admirable,” Councillor Liora praised. “Determination. We could likely use someone like you on our team, as well.”

Biana glowed with praise as the attention of the room was directed back towards Sophie. “We hear that you have shown immense talent for sorcery,” Councillor Emery noted. “And so, as such, we would like to put you to a sort of test.”

“I can feel your anxiety, Miss Foster,” Councillor Oralie said in response to Sophie’s queasiness, and Sophie realized she must have used her magic to read Sophie’s emotions. “And you must not worry. Whether or not you pass is no true demonstration of your strength. We simply wish to see whether or not you are able to read from the ancient book of spells.”

Biana gasped. “The ancient book of spells? The one kept in the museum in Eternalia?”

“Yes,” Magnate Leto confirmed as he pulled out a large book with a flourish. It certainly looked ancient—and intimidating. “You must understand, Sophie, that whether or not you are able to read from it is no indication of your talent. After years of careful study, I myself am only able to read a few spells, and this is a language you have never been taught.” Despite his reassurances and his insistence that she could not know the language, he still seemed eager as he placed the heavy book on the ground in front of her. Almost… anticipatory.

Magnate Leto thought she’d be able to read the spells in this book.

But how was that possible, if she’d never before encountered the language?

Sophie knelt to the ground, opening the book. “What spell would you like for me to read?” They all looked the same to her, and just like Magnate Leto had said, it wasn’t a language she recognized.

“Hmm… perhaps a spell of enhanced vision,” Magnate Leto suggested. He made it sound like he pulled the idea out of the blue, but it seemed specific, and he was able to turn to the page quickly, as though he had it memorized.

“Whose vision am I enhancing?” Sophie asked, beginning to grow suspicious. Was there a reason they weren’t telling her they’d planned for her to read a certain spell? And why, if they were so convinced she would be able to read the book, would they assure her of how much it didn’t matter if she couldn’t?

Actually… what made them so sure she could read this book?

Magnate Leto clapped his hands, and three gnomes entered from a side door in the back. “These three gnomes have volunteered as subjects.”

So they did know what spell they were going to ask her to read. Why not tell her? Why feign spontaneity?

“It’s not a big deal if you aren’t able to do it,” Councillor Oralie reiterated. “But this spell would allow these gnomes night vision, far vision, and vision through certain solid substances.”

Even she seemed eager. In fact, the faces of everyone on the Council seemed eager.

If they wanted the gnomes to be able to see further, why not simply cast the spell themselves? All of them were sorcerers. These were the twelve most powerful witches and wizards in the Lost Cities, and yet here they were, all on the edge of their seat, wondering if she, a twenty-year-old girl, would be able to read a spell written in an ancient language she’d never seen before in her life.

“Okay,” Sophie said, drawing out the word and taking a deep breath. She traced her fingers over the ancient words on the page. It wasn’t a script she knew, and yet, somehow, when she looked at them, it was like something hidden in her brain miraculously unlocked.

She began to read, letting the syllables come out of her mouth in a small sort of chant, hoping her pronunciation was right. She heard a gasp throughout the room, but whether it was because she was succeeding or doing something terribly wrong, she couldn’t be sure. She continued her soft chant, tracing the words as she read them until she reached the end of the page. Once again, the Council gasped, and Sophie looked up from her work, her gaze settling on the gnomes she was meant to be helping.

They looked like… they were struggling.

Like they were in pain. “Did I do something wrong?!” Sophie cried out, standing immediately. “Are they okay?”

“Yes, yes!” Magnate Leto assured her, almost laughing with glee. “Yes, this is perfect! You did it, I knew you could do it—”

“It’s hurting them!” Sophie insisted. All three gnomes were squeezing their eyes shut and clutching their heads. “How do I undo the spell?”

“Undo?” Councillor Zarina asked incredulously. “A spell from the ancient texts cannot be undone.”

“What?!”

“What?” Biana added, her voice softer and lighter as she asked the question. “But all other spells can be undone.”

“The ancient texts contain no counterspells in the language that gives them power,” Councillor Bronte explained. “Therefore, the spells cannot be reversed.”

The three gnomes let go of their heads, blinking hard. “Are you guys okay?!” Sophie asked desperately, rushing to their side. “How do you feel? Is it getting better?”

“I…” One of the gnomes opened her eyes completely, and Sophie gasped when she noticed they had turned a bold, dark shade of red, and her pupils had dilated significantly. “It worked. I can see… beyond the castle walls,” the gnome said, but her voice sounded strained.

“Does it hurt?!” Sophie insisted. “I can find a way to reverse it; I know I can.”

“You can’t,” Magnate Leto insisted. “And don’t you realize what you’ve done? They can see beyond the walls! They can see as far as they wish! This is fantastic news!”

“All of them are squinting like it hurts!” Sophie turned to one of the other gnomes. “You can see far, yes?” The gnome nodded. “Would you wish the spell on any of your friends?” The gnome hesitated and glanced at the Council, but did not shake his head.

“It doesn’t matter any more,” Magnate Leto said. “I knew how powerful your magic was, I just knew it! Look!” He pulled back the curtain by the door where he’d retrieved the three gnomes, revealing that the room extended far beyond what Sophie had believed. An entire group of gnomish people stood there, possibly even a hundred, and every single one of them had red eyes, dilated pupils, and was squinting their eyes like they’d recently acquired a terrible headache.

Sophie gasped. “No! I can’t have done this to all of them.”

“You did,” Biana whispered. “That’s why they needed your power. Only you could make all of this happen by accident.”

“No! Not only me!” Sophie turned back to the Council, trying to fight down the defiance in her voice as she addressed them. “All twelve of you are supposed to be all-powerful! Why would you need me to make this happen? I want nothing to do with it; it’s clearly dangerous! We didn’t know what the side effects would be.”

“It is true,” Councillor Clarette admitted, “that we did not anticipate any degree of discomfort to come from the effects of the spell. But look at this magnificent group of brave gnomes! Each and every one of them agreed to be a part of our group of palace spies.”

Sophie blinked. “Spies?”

“What would you need spies for?” Biana agreed.

“That’s a harsh word,” Councillor Emery corrected. “More like… scouts. With their enhanced vision, they will be able to move throughout the Lost Cities, checking easily for any… unsavory magic practices.”

Sophie looked back over at the gnomes. “You guys volunteered for this?” she asked, but the nods were hesitant. Then she remembered that the word Councillor Clarette had used was agreed, not volunteered. Had the gnomes felt like they had any choice?

She spun back to the Council as Councillor Emery’s words registered. “Hang on. What do you mean unsavory magic practices?”

“Surely you’ve realized not all magic is equally… stable,” Magnate Leto explained.

“You mean pyrokinesis,” Sophie said bluntly, thinking of Professor Fintan. Professor Fintan, who had been escorted from the premises. Professor Fintan, who insisted they weren’t being told the whole truth.

“Yes, like pyrokinesis! You understand,” Magnate Leto agreed.

Except Sophie didn’t agree.

“Why must I be a part of this?” Sophie snapped. “All I’ve heard all my life is that the witches and wizards who rule the Lost Cities are all-powerful, yet I haven’t seen any of you manage any more than a single trick.”

“Sophie,” Biana warned.

“No. I don’t buy it. I don’t think you guys can read this book at all. I think that’s why you need me. And gnomish spies, who you were willing to put under a permanent spell without any regard for the consequences!”

Councillor Liora opened her mouth, rage showing on her face, but Councillor Kenric spoke first. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “We practice magic, yes, but the ancient texts elude even our understanding. We each have a singular specialization, just like your headmaster or any other distinguished sorcerer. That’s why we need you!”

Sophie shook her head, backing away. “No. You lied to me.”

“We didn’t lie to anyone,” Councillor Emery pointed out. “It was not the Council who began the rumors that we were all-powerful.”

“And yet you let them continue!” Sophie pointed out sharply.

“Of course they did, Sophie,” Biana said quickly. “I’ve explained how this works.”

“And I still don’t think it’s right! You’re behind the arrest of Fintan Pyren, aren’t you? And all the pyrokinetics?”

“Of course,” Councillor Emery said smoothly.

“How could you betray those loyal to you like that?!”

“Sophie,” Councillor Bronte began kindly, with some form of regret in his voice, “it brings us no joy. Fintan in particular was… a friend of mine. But when coming up on difficult times, the best way to unite the people is to give them a really good common enemy.”

Sophie blinked.

This couldn’t be real.

“So you just invent one? You tell everyone certain magic is evil, just so everyone has someone to hate and be scared of?!”

“Exactly.”

“No!” Sophie bolted from the room, pushing the enormous gates open as she left.

“Stop her!” one of the councillors ordered, though she wasn’t sure which. She could no longer see the names inscribed on the thrones behind them. And she didn’t care. She just had to leave.

“She knows too much!” another shouted, only adding to her disgust.

“DON’T WORRY! I WILL GO TALK TO HER! She’s just… overwhelmed! ” Biana shrieked.

The sound of the gates opening and shutting sounded once again.

Sophie ignored it.

—Defying Gravity—

Sophie could hardly run out the palace’s front gates with the guards on her tail, but she found a narrow staircase, and up she ran, up and up and up and up in an attempt to keep Biana from following her. Biana’s dress was far more ornate, so she likely wouldn’t be able to get up the stairs as quickly. Once she’d reached the highest level she could find, she opened another crystal door, stepping into a room with a crystal dome above their heads.

She was in the dome above the palace on Eternalia.

Okay. What now?

The door opened behind her, and Sophie spun around, dropping the spellbook she’d been holding, prepared to fight whoever had entered the room. But it was just Biana, breathing heavily as she slammed the door behind her. “What in the Lost Cities did you just do, Sophie Foster?!” Biana demanded.

“What was I supposed to do?!” Sophie countered. “Just stand there and let them act like I’m supposed to go along with all their… their wrongness? What they tricked me into doing to the gnomes, and the ban on pyrokinesis and other forms of ‘unsavory’ magic, and—”

“Yes, it’s not the most moral thing ever,” Biana agreed, “but politics aren’t moral! They never have been. That’s not the point. The point is, you’ve been offered one of the greatest opportunities in the Lost Cities, and you’re trying to turn it down!”

“Do you just not even care about doing the right thing?”

“I care about doing the thing that will allow me to have any sort of influence! If you want others to know what you believe in, first you have to gain power, and you don’t gain power by thinking differently!”

“You said to be myself,” Sophie recalled. “This is me being true to myself.”

“I said within reason! Why couldn’t you have just stayed calm for once?!” Biana gripped her head. “I hope you’re happy now that you’ve completely ruined any chance of making anyone believe you—”

“I hope you’re happy to know that you’d just do whatever the Council asks of you, just so you can stay popular—”

“You know what? I am!”

“So am I!”

“Good!”

The two of them turned away from each other, tension sitting in the air between them.

Biana grabbed the front of her hair, squeezing her eyes shut. “Sophie, you don’t get it,” she said in a softer voice. “Defying the Council is a huge deal.”

As if to prove Biana’s point, the speakers at the top of the dome came on, signifying that something was being broadcast through every emergency system in the Lost Cities. “Citizens of the Lost Cities!” Magnate Leto’s voice rang out. “There is now an enemy who must be found and captured!”

Sophie stumbled back, as though something had burned her. Was the enemy her?

Had her sorcery professor… her trusted mentor… just said she should be found and captured?

“Believe nothing she says,” Magnate Leto continued. “She is evil. She is responsible for the poor mutilation of hundreds of innocent gnomes!”

“That was the Council’s fault!” Sophie shouted, even though she knew only Biana could hear her.

“You can recognize her by her brown eyes, an outward manifestation of the darkness in her soul. Her nature is twisted beyond redemption. You must beware this evil witch!”

Sophie blinked. She couldn’t do much else.

Biana took in a shaky breath. “Wow. Okay. I warned you.”

Sophie shook her head, mutely. She wasn’t denying Biana’s warning. Maybe she was saying she didn’t listen, or that she didn’t care.

“Don’t be afraid,” Biana whispered.

“I’m not,” Sophie said confidently, surprised by how steady her voice was. Unexpectedly, the words were true. “It’s the Council who should be afraid of me.”

“Aaaaand you need to take deep breaths,” Biana said, her eyes wide as she placed her hands on Sophie’s shoulders. “That’s not what I meant, and it won’t make anything better. You need to just… say you’re sorry, before it’s too late!”

Sophie shook her head vehemently, but Biana still continued. “You can still work for the Council, like you’ve been working towards the whole time you’ve been at Foxfire! This is what you wanted, remember?”

“No. I mean, yes.” Sophie shook her head again, this time to clear her thoughts. “But I don’t… I can’t want it anymore.”

Sophie shook Biana’s hands off her shoulders, walking past her friend and towards the edge of the dome, overlooking Eternalia. “I can’t ever go back to being the person I was before I knew just how awful our leadership is. Just how horrible the Lost Cities are beneath the surface.”

“It’s not… that bad,” Biana said weakly.

“No. It is, Biana. You know it, and you aren’t ready to admit it, and that’s okay.” Sophie took a deep breath, willing the words to be true. It was okay. Biana didn’t have to understand.

But Sophie couldn’t go back. “It’s time for me to stop chasing someone else’s dream, Biana. I can’t ever be what others are going to want me to be.” She closed her eyes, imagining her magic building up inside of her, wondering what her instincts would come up with. Back in her history class, she’d dropped an entire roomful of people to their knees simply because she got angry. But she hadn’t even known the full scope of the righteousness of her anger.

What would she be able to do now?

“What are you doing?” Biana asked nervously.

“We’ll find out!” Sophie said. She squeezed her eyes one last time, letting the waves of her own power wash over her, and when she opened them, glass and crystal crumbled around them, the dome reducing itself to dust and falling down the sides of the palace. Light wind blew their hair into their faces, and Sophie brushed hers away. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“Destroying the dome on top of the palace in Eternalia?!” Biana screeched. “Sophie, are you crazy?”

“Maybe!” Sophie agreed. “But I can’t just… things have to change, Biana!” Both of them raised their voices over the increased noise around them, both from the wind and the bustling city below.

“Some things will never change, Sophie!” Biana pleaded with her.

“Maybe. But I’ll never know unless I try.” Sophie turned back around to face her friend, trying not to be afraid now that her back was to the edge of the part of the roof they were standing on. “I’m not afraid of being unpopular, Biana. I’m not like you. But there’s a time and place for every way of thinking, and… I might need you.” Sophie extended her hand, holding her breath as she waited for Biana to take it.

Biana stared at her outstretched hand. “Need me for what?”

“Everyone loves you, Biana. And the Council was right about one thing: your determination to learn sorcery shows an important type of perseverance you don’t gain by just… being talented. Imagine my abilities with your perspective. Imagine our combined determination. We’d be unstoppable.”

Biana reached out with her opposite hand, and for a moment, it looked like she was going to take Sophie’s. But at the last minute, she changed directions, leaning down to pick up the spellbook she’d dropped on the floor. She held it out towards Sophie, a mix of conviction and sorrow in her eyes. “I really hope you’re happy,” Biana said again, repeating her words from before. Her voice was soft and thick, and there seemed to be tears shimmering in her regretful eyes.

Sophie accepted the book, stepping back from her friend. “I hope you are, too,” she agreed genuinely.

“I mean it,” Biana added, wiping a tear off of her cheeks. “I hope you don’t regret this.”

Sophie nodded. She hoped the same for Biana.

She opened the book she now held in her hands, flipping through the pages. The text was somewhat recognizable to her mind, now, though she couldn’t be sure what had unlocked that memory. She needed some way to get out of here. Flying? Teleporting?

She whispered the words under her breath, and as she cast the spell, she felt her own magic surge through her body, like a tingle that settled beneath her skin. What was this about falling? Or was it flying? The language was strange, but she knew the spell was complete. She knew what she had the power to do.

Or at least that she could do… something.

The door from the staircase swung open, and guards flooded into the dome. They took a minute to catch their balance when they realized the glass was gone, but as soon as they had their bearings, two of them attempted to seize Biana.

“Excuse me?!” Biana screeched. “Let me go! Do you know who my family is?”

“It isn’t her!” Sophie shouted. “She has nothing to do with this! I’m the one you want!” The guards abruptly let go of her friend, bolting towards her as she dusted herself off, offended. Sophie looked back to the dome, feeling the tingle of the magic spell beneath her skin, and didn’t give herself any time to hesitate.

She ran to the edge and jumped.

The last thing she heard was Biana screaming and the guards shouting as a crack of thunder sounded, and she tumbled into the darkness.

—Thank Goodness—

Biana reached up to smooth the fabric on Keefe’s shoulder. “You look gorgeous as always in your uniform,” Biana remarked, but all of their flirting felt empty ever since… well. A certain day.

“Thank you,” Keefe said, his words more stilted than she was used to—and she’d certainly gotten used to the lack of his old easy personality. He hadn’t been the same since they’d lost Sophie.

Neither of them had.

“I’m not looking forward to going out there,” Keefe mumbled.

“Neither am I,” Biana said sympathetically.

“That’s a lie, and we both know it,” he snapped. Biana blinked. He hadn’t been this short with her in… well, ever.

“That’s not fair.”

“I know.” Keefe ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. It’s just… the search is getting hard, you know? She has to have heard that I’m captain of the guard by now, and if she has any faith in me, she’ll know it’s just because I want to see her again.”

Biana tried not to let the words sting. She knew, in her head, that Keefe didn’t have… those kinds of feelings for Sophie, but he seemed so distant from her, and sometimes it forced her to wonder. Especially when he started saying things like that… “I do too,” Biana agreed, “but we have to do one thing at a time, and today, we have to go out there, stand on the balcony, and smile.”

Keefe nodded, and Biana pretended not to understand the look he was giving her. It was a look that said, Easier for you than for me.

Biana still didn’t understand why.

Keefe had never had trouble pretending to be happy. He was silly and goofy and always smiling mischievously, and even though it was expected that he’d outgrow the pranks, she didn’t think he’d ever outgrow his constant lighthearted mood. It used to be what he was best at.

And she didn’t understand why it bothered him so much that she wanted to be happy. She wanted to walk out onto that balcony, and see all of those people looking up at her, adoring her, looking to her for encouragement, and give it to them. If she could do something good, why not do it? She was the Good Witch, after all.

She’d rather them praise her than defame Sophie.

“Alright, are the two of you ready?” Magnate Leto asked. “The people are terrified. Someone must raise their spirits!”

“Of course,” Biana said. “We’re ready, aren’t we, Keefe?”

And just like that, Keefe’s fake smile and relaxed demeanor slid into place. “Of course.”

Biana fought to slump in reply. Why couldn’t he ever smile for her? Why did he insist on always being miserable when it was just the two of them? Was she so incapable of making him happy?

Well, hopefully, after today, that would change. This was more than a celebration ceremony for Keefe’s two year anniversary as Captain of the Guard. Biana had planned a special surprise today, and if it couldn’t cheer Keefe up, she wasn’t sure what would.

As Biana and Keefe stepped onto the balcony, Magnate Leto following shortly, the eager voices in the courtyard below cheered, shouting praises for Biana, praises for Keefe, and questions neither of them wanted to answer.

“Is it true that the Evil Witch practices pyrokinesis?” one of them shouted.

“Is she responsible for the fires in Eternalia?”

“Where will she strike next?”

“Where will she strike next?”

“Citizens of the Lost Cities!” Biana called, quieting the crowd. “As terrifying as these days have been”—she ignored the way Keefe snorted softly—“we must set aside our panic for just one day in order to properly celebrate!”

This time, when the cheers returned, there were no shouted questions about Sophie. Biana smiled as they shouted praises about her and Keefe.

“Finally, a day free of any talk of an evil witch—we could all use it, don’t you think?” Magnate Leto added. Biana swallowed the sour taste in her mouth as the gathered crowd shouted their agreement and relief.

“To set your minds at rest,” Magnate Leto continued, “our Captain of the Guard, Keefe Sencen, has been instrumental in leading the search for the Evil Witch. Haven’t you?”

Keefe cleared his throat. “Well, yes, I’ve led the search, but I wouldn’t say I think of her as a—”

“So!” Magnate Leto interrupted through gritted teeth, “how does it feel?”

“Frustrating,” Keefe said with a sigh. “Two years and no sign of her. But I became Captain of the Guard with the intention of finding her, and I will not rest until—”

“No no no, not that,” Magnate Leto interrupted. Biana bit her lip. Now was the moment Keefe found out what this celebration was really about—and his reaction would tell her plenty about the state of their relationship. “Being engaged!”

A gasp went throughout the crowd. “Congratulations!” they shouted in near unison.

Keefe took a step back, away from her. Biana swallowed. “This is an engagement party?” he asked.

“It is,” Biana said, smiling sweetly. “Surprise!”

“Yes.”

“I hoped you would be,” she said, turning her perfect smile towards the crowd. “It’s the most amazing feeling in the world, you know. We couldn’t be happier.” It was a lie. Of course it was a lie. Biana could think of many ways she could be happier, and she couldn’t let it show on her face just how determined she’d be for this to be the answer. She needed this to make Keefe happy. She needed this to make her happy. And yet, now that the announcement had been made, it all felt empty.

“Yes,” Keefe agreed, smiling at the crowd, but it was just as empty as every kiss he’d given her in the past year.

“It’s just like a fairy tale ending, isn’t it?” Biana continued, soaking up the crowd’s happiness. “A dream come true.”

A dream come true, indeed. And dreams coming true made people happy. They were supposed to, at least.

Where was her happiness?

“And Biana, dear, we are happy for you!” Magnate Leto added, feeding off of the encouraged crowd. “As press secretary, I have ensured that not a soul in the Lost Cities has not heard the story of your bravery in Eternalia, only a few years ago.”

Keefe sighed. “I hate this part,” he muttered under his breath.

“The day you were summoned to Eternalia for an audience for the Council, they were so impressed with your talent for sorcery, they offered you a position immediately!” Magnate Leto announced. Biana had heard the story many times. It was somehow less true every time it was told. “Then suddenly, enraged and blinded by jealousy, the witch we would come to know as our most evil enemy leapt from the shadows. She’d followed you to the scene, determined that nothing would be offered to you that she could not have as well!”

Wrong. It was so wrong. Biana wasn’t even good at magic. She was the one who wasn’t meant to be there that day.

“You know, that’s not exactly how you tell the story to me,” Keefe muttered.

“Well not exactly,” Biana replied, equally as quietly. “We can talk about it later.”

They would talk about it, of course, and Biana would assure him that she knew how awful and wrong the story was, and Keefe would say he believed her and sound like he didn’t. It was a conversation they’d had many times before and would have many times again, and nothing ever came from it.

Whispers settled on the crowd below. So much for a day with no talk of the evil witch, Biana thought bitterly. Magnate Leto would never resist an opportunity to spread lies about Sophie and her intentions.

Then again, Biana also hadn’t seen Sophie in a long time.

And there had been fires in Eternalia.

And no one knew where they were coming from.

And Biana had no idea what her friend was up to…

“I hear she has extra eyes that stay awake and keep watch while she rests,” someone whispered in the crowd below, and the whisper spread throughout the crowd as others repeated it. “I hear her eyes turn even darker when she’s inflicting pain. I hear that she’s part horse, and that’s why she has brown eyes! No no no, I hear her eyes are brown because of the darkness in her soul. I hear her soul is so unclean, pure water can kill her! Water kills her? Yes, I hear it melts her to the ground. I believe it. Seems appropriate for someone as evil as her.”

“Do you hear that?” Keefe hissed. “Water will melt her? People are so empty-headed they’ll believe anything! I can’t do this anymore.” He turned to walk back behind the curtains.

Biana turned to Magnate Leto, speaking loud enough for the crowd to hear. “Excuse us for a moment,” she said politely, lifting her gown slightly off the floor to allow her to move more quickly after her fiance.

As soon as they were alone, Keefe spun to face her, his fake easygoing attitude vanishing. “I don’t understand how you can just stand out there and smile through all of this!”

“Do you think I like hearing them say all those horrible things about her? I hate it!” Biana insisted. Could he possibly think so little of her? Did he think this made her happy?

It was supposed to. But it didn’t. Couldn’t he see that?

“Then what are we still doing here?” Keefe’s eyes softened, and he walked towards her until they were standing closer than they had alone in a long time. He took her hands in his. “Let’s go,” he whispered, so close she could feel his breath on her cheeks. “Let’s get out of here.”

Biana wanted to say yes. She wanted the hope in his eyes to grow into more. She wanted to stand close to him like this more often, with him actually wanting to be with her, and she wanted to kiss him without everything being devoid of good feeling.

But then she heard the murmurs of the crowd behind her. She had to bring back her cheers. That was her job.

That was what she was good for.

“I can’t,” she said regretfully, stepping back from him. She’d never been the one to put more space between them, and the moment reminded her of another offer to run away that she’d rejected. She’d known, even then, that this was what she wanted, and she still knew it now. She knew what she was willing to make sacrifices for.

But was it worth the sacrifice? Was it worth losing all the good people in her life?

She needed to talk to her brother. He was a Vacker, too. He’d understand.

“Why not?” Keefe insisted. “Why can’t you leave, Biana? What is there for us here?”

“I can’t just suddenly leave, Keefe! Not when people are looking to me to raise their spirits!”

“You can’t leave because you can’t resist this!” Keefe corrected, a horrible acceptance in his eyes that mirrored her own regret. “And that’s the truth.”

Biana sucked in a breath. Well, fine. If he wanted honesty, he could have it. “Maybe I can’t! Is that so wrong?” She remembered the crowd cheering her name. It was the only good thing that had happened so far that day. “Who could?”

Keefe shook his head, like it was a ridiculous question, and Biana knew it, too. She knew the answer to her own question even before Keefe said, “You know who could. Who has.”

He turned to walk away, but she couldn’t let him just… leave. Not like she’d let Sophie leave, jumping off the dome above the palace, the last time she’d ever see her friend. “I miss her too!” she called after him, continuing when he paused, his back still turned to her. “But we can’t just stop living. No one has searched harder for her than you. You even became the Captain of the Guard, working for the Council, to give you an excuse to look. But don’t you see?” Biana shook her head, her voice breaking as she voiced the truth that still kept her up at night. “She doesn’t want to be found.”

Keefe sucked in a breath. For a moment, the words sat between them.

Then he turned around, walking back towards her. “You’re right, of course,” he said, deflating. “And hey. If it makes you happy, of course I’ll marry you.” The smile he gave her almost reached his eyes.

But she hadn’t missed his wording. “It’ll make you happy too, right?” she asked desperately. She needed him to want this as much as she did. If he didn’t… what did she have left?

“You know me,” Keefe said, his performance smile sliding right into place. His shoulders relaxed, and suddenly, he was the picture of the college boy who had thrown flirtatious smirks in her direction and invited her to parties. The boy who cared about nothing and everything, all at once. “I’m always happy.”

It was believable, too, the way he said it.

But Biana knew it was a facade.

She didn’t have to see the pain in his eyes to know it was there.

—Wicked Witch of the East—

Wow, Sophie thought as she stepped into Amy’s office. She’d heard the name Amy Foster thrown around until she’d learned that her sister was an official ambassador to the other intelligent species. Somehow, though, the reality of her position hadn’t set in until Sophie stepped into her house, realizing just how ornate it was.

Amy had done well.

And Sophie… hadn’t been there to see any of it.

She was torn between the guilt of abandoning her sister and the knowledge that staying hidden was necessary. Being public enemy number one wasn’t an easy task to manage, and it wasn’t like Sophie had any training or experience other than what she’d gathered for herself these past few years.

“Beautiful,” Sophie breathed as she ran her hand over the ornate carvings on the bookshelf.

“Who’s there?!” Amy’s voice suddenly cut through the air like a knife, ending the stillness of the room’s beautiful silence. Sophie startled, stumbling back as her sister wheeled herself around her desk.

Sophie sighed in relief. “You scared me, Amy. I’m glad you’re here, actually, you’re the person I came to—”

“I scared you? Sophie, what are you doing in my house?!” Amy hissed.

Sophie stumbled back. “I’m your sister,” she stated bluntly. She searched her sister’s eyes for any sign of teasing, but instead, what she found was almost akin to fear.

Fear?

Sophie had taken care of her sister every second of every day while they grew up. She couldn’t possibly be scared of her, could she?

Could she?

Sophie’s heart dropped into her stomach. “You don’t believe the rumors, do you?”

“I don’t know what to believe!” Amy exclaimed. “You think you know someone, and then suddenly they disappear off the top of the palace in Eternalia and teleport away and as the months go by there’s more and more reports of unrest and attacks and—”

“You think all of that is me?”

“Is any of it you?”

Sophie stayed silent.

Amy seemed to take that as confirmation of something. Sophie couldn’t be sure what, just like she couldn’t be sure which rumors Amy was talking about. It wasn’t like Sophie had been quiet, or caused no unrest at all. In fact, the opposite was very much the case. But she didn’t want her sister to be afraid of her.

“It’s good to see you again, Sophie,” Amy said genuinely, her voice thick with something Sophie couldn’t decipher. “Really. But you should probably leave.”

“I just got here,” Sophie pointed out. “And… I’m here for a reason.”

“So you want something from me.”

“What? No! I mean, yes, but…” Sophie huffed in frustration. It wasn’t like she’d given Amy her entire childhood, or anything. “Amy, of course I wanted to see you. You’re one of the most important people in my life.”

“But you’re here because you want something.”

Sophie grit her teeth. “Fine. Yes. I need you to stand with me.”

“You need me to do what?”

“You work with the Council, correct?” Sophie checked. When Amy nodded, she continued, “Surely you’ve realized that much of what they say to be public isn’t true. Most of it, even.” Amy didn’t seem surprised by Sophie’s declaration, so she took it as a sign to keep going. “That’s why I do what I do. That’s what I stand against.”

“By setting fires to the capital?”

“What? No!” Sophie groaned. “I’m not the one doing that!”

“Then who is? It’s pyrokinetics, right?” There was a mix of apprehension and confidence in Amy’s voice. “The Council isn’t wrong about them, you know, and the attacks prove it.”

Sophie couldn’t say she was wrong. But… “Pyrokinetics didn’t make themselves the enemy. Neither did Shades or psionipaths,” Sophie added. Elves were afraid enough of darkness that she wasn’t surprised they’d gone after Shades, but she was astounded that their latest move was to ban force field magic. “The Council made them the enemy, and now they’re fighting back.”

“I won’t be a part of that,” Amy snapped. “I can’t, anyway. I worked hard to get where I am now, you know. I’m not going to throw that all away just because you made bad decisions.”

“I don’t regret my choice, Amy.”

“Then why are you here, asking for my voice on your side?” Amy wheeled towards her. “Why do you need my help if you’ve done the right thing?” She narrowed her eyes. “Wasn’t Biana your friend? You know, I hold influence, but she holds far more than I do. So why can’t you go to her?”

Sophie winced. She’d thought about it.

There were a lot of reasons she’d decided against it, most of which she wasn’t planning on sharing with her sister.

“She knows you well, too,” Amy continued, “and she was there the day you left. I’m not stupid, Sophie; I know the idea that the job was always meant to be Biana’s and you wanted to take it from her is fake, but for some reason, your own best friend doesn’t support what you’re doing. Funny, isn’t it? I wonder if there could be a reason for that.”

There was. Sophie knew the reason. It wasn’t a good reason, either, and she knew Biana knew it just as well as she did.

“I need someone who isn’t a witch to stand with me,” Sophie explained, giving the explanation Amy was most likely to understand. “Sorcerers are the target of this whole thing. And yes, Biana is the Good Witch, and yes, nobody thinks all magic is evil—the Council is made up of sorcerers, after all—but if she suddenly switches sides, people will just assume she wants to practice one of the ‘unsavory’ forms, and turn against her.”

“Uh, no offense to Biana, but she can’t do magic,” Amy said bluntly. “I was there in school. I heard how Magnate Leto always raved about your talents and made it very clear he wished Biana wasn’t in the class with you. So I’ve been watching carefully, and at every public appearance, she talks about doing magic a great deal more than she actually does any.”

Sophie nodded. “The people don’t know that, though. And the voice of the people is strong.”

“Yeah. Stronger than me.”

“You’re the ambassador to the other intelligent species, Amy. If you started spreading rumors, planting seeds, dropping hints that the elvin Council isn’t all that it seems to be—”

“I’m not trying to start a revolution here, Sophie.”

“I am,” Sophie said, standing her ground.

“Yeah, I know. And I want nothing to do with it.”

“The gnomish people live here, in the Lost Cities. Surely it wouldn’t be difficult for you to ‘accidentally’ let them know that hundreds of their people are now being used as spies, due to a curse that extends their eyesight—”

“Yeah, a curse you cast!” Amy exclaimed.

“I didn’t mean to!”

“How do you accidentally curse a bunch of gnomes?”

“I didn’t know what I was reading. I didn’t know what the effects would be. Please believe me,” Sophie begged. “If I could undo it, I would.”

“Well, if you can’t, it’s done, and it doesn’t really do you any favors for me to tell a bunch of gnomes that you cursed hundreds of their people.”

She was right, of course. And she couldn’t prove it had actually been the Council’s fault. They’d known what the spell was meant to do, but then again, hadn’t she known as well? They hadn’t thought about what the side effects of the spell might be, but neither had Sophie.

Then again, Sophie hadn’t known it was irreversible.

That was too much to explain to Amy, though, and expect her to relay to the other intelligent species while still making it look like she’d dropped those hints on accident. “Amy—”

“No. I don’t have to listen to this anymore. Why should I help you?” Amy no longer looked frightened, but angry. “You jump off buildings and cliffs, teleporting off to who knows where, all to start some revolution to save a bunch of sorcerers who have never done anything for you, but not once have you thought to use your talents to save me! Your sister! I can’t stand, I can’t run, I can’t properly dance—you could give me those things! I’m not good enough to give them to myself.”

Guilt twisted in her stomach. It was true, it had never occurred to Sophie to try to heal her sister, but it suddenly vanished, replaced by confusion, when she realized the implications of Amy’s last sentence. “What do you mean you aren’t good enough to give them to yourself?”

“You were wrong about one thing, Sophie. You said I wasn’t a sorcerer. But I am.” She looked almost defiant as she made the declaration. “I studied magic, and I became good at it, and now here I am. It’s part of why I’m as respected as I am. In many ways, people are just as afraid of me as they are of you.”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense,” Sophie insisted. “You work for the Council. You’re like Biana, right? Everyone should love you.”

“Biana’s image is all about her goodness and friendliness and encouragement. It’s why she talks in that airy high pitched voice and says meaningless fluff to make crowds happy. My image is all about power. The Council likes it that way. I like it that way.”

“Don’t compare yourself to me, then!” Sophie snapped. “My image has nothing to do with power!”

“That’s the most ridiculous sentence I’ve ever come out of your mouth! You could bring the Lost Cities to its knees if you tried. I know you could. Everyone knows you could. It’s why they’re so terrified. Everyone is wondering what you’re waiting for.”

“Nothing! My intention isn’t to terrorize everyone, it’s to bring justice! What don’t people understand about that?”

“Because you’re the most powerful witch the Lost Cities has ever seen. The Council knows it. Magnate Leto knows it. And they’ve ensured that everyone in the Lost Cities knows it. They don’t like being more afraid than their own people, and they’re most certainly afraid of you.” Amy shook her head. “There’s a reason they aren’t afraid of me, though, even though they’ve done well to make sure that everyone else is. I’m not as powerful as you, and I never will be. But you could do anything. You could fix me.”

Sophie’s heart broke. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard Amy say such a thing about herself, and growing up, she’d heard such remarks from others, too. “You don’t need to be fixed, Amy,” she said firmly. “There is nothing wrong with you the way you are.”

“That isn’t true!”

“It is. You’re perfect, Amy,” Sophie insisted, taking one of her sister’s hands. “You don’t need to change.”

“What if I want to change?”

Sophie sighed, pulling out the ancient spellbook she carried with her always. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promised. “But there isn’t a spell for everything.” She flipped through the book quickly. Over the years, her easy recognition of the ancient language had only grown stronger, and she didn’t understand why. It was like she had somehow been born with the sort of knowledge one was meant to have to learn.

She fingered the necklace she never took off, thinking about how she’d been told how special she was as a child. This necklace was meant to be a reminder of it. But other than her brown eyes, which were nothing but weird, how could she have been special from the day she was born?

Ever since she’d become known as an evil witch, well… she’d started to wonder.

“Well? Is there anything?” Amy asked impatiently.

“I’m looking,” Sophie assured her. And she was. In fact, she’d even found a few spells that seemed like they might do the trick, but one had to be careful with the wording. It was far too easy to mistake the meaning of spells, even with an understanding of the words on the page. “Aha!” Sophie exclaimed, smoothing out the pages. She glanced over at the beautiful jeweled shoes on Amy’s feet, a gift from their parents the day they’d been dropped off at Foxfire. Slowly, she began to chant the words on the page, stretching one of her hands towards Amy’s beautiful shoes.

“What are you doing?!” Amy exclaimed.

Sophie didn’t let it break her concentration, continuing to chant until the spell was complete.

“My shoes! They’re burning hot, like they’re on fire!”

Once Sophie was sure the magic had settled, she turned her eyes towards her sister’s feet. Indeed, the shoes had turned from a dazzling silver to a crimson red. “Are they cooling down?” she asked worriedly.

“Yes… they are,” Amy said hesitantly. “Can I…” She attempted to stand, placing one foot on the ground off of her chair, then another. As soon as she shifted her weight fully to her feet, though, she collapsed onto the ground.

Sophie was alert immediately, rushing to her side, but Amy held up one of her hands. “No!” she shouted. “Don’t help me,” she said quieter, her brow furrowing in concentration as she attempted to push herself to her feet.

Once she’d successfully found an upright position, she only wobbled a few times in an attempt to keep her balance. The shoes must have given her legs the strength she needed to stand and walk, as well as making it a possibility for her. “Wow,” Amy breathed, looking down at her legs, and then up at her sister. Her eyes were shining.

Finally. It was about time Sophie did something good with her powers.

“I have to tell Dex,” Amy squealed, reaching for a bell on her desk and ringing it loudly. “Dex! Come here!”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “What?! No!” she hissed instinctively, not yet registering the implications of Amy having Dex immediately at her beck and call. “No one can know that I’m here.”

Dex sighed as he entered the room. “I swear, I’m working on the elixir, but I’m also working on like four different gadgets and—” he paused, his eyes darkening with disgust and fear. “You.” Dex suddenly whipped a collection of small black beads out of his pocket. “Stay back! These explode, and I’m not afraid to use them!”

“Dex, I’m not going to hurt you!” Sophie tried to keep the hurt out of her voice. Dex knew her.

“You’re lying!” he insisted. “That’s all you ever do—you and your sister! She’s just as bad as you are!”

Sophie shot a look at her sister. “What did you do?!”

“I told you the people are afraid of me!” Amy exclaimed defiantly. “It’s called holding power! You’d know something about that, wouldn’t you?”

“You don’t know a thing about me, Amy!” Sophie snapped. “Maybe it’s my fault. But it’s true. And clearly, I know just as little about you.”

“Wait,” Dex said suddenly, his eyes shifting back over to Amy. “Wait.” He looked her up and down, like he realized something was different. “Did you… are you… you’re standing!”

All the tension drained from Amy, a lightness adding a bounce to her step as she made her way over to Dex. “Yes! I am, see?”

“But… how?” Dex stared at her dumbly, all of his earlier hatred absent from his expression. “I—I don’t understand…”

“That’s what my sister is doing here,” Amy said excitedly. “She fixed me, and now you don’t have to look after me all the time anymore! We can just… be happy!”

“I didn’t fix you,” Sophie corrected, “I healed you.”

“But I’m better now,” Amy argued. “And that’s the point, isn’t it? Dex, say something,” she begged, her eyes shining with hope as she took Dex’s hands.

Dex squeezed Amy’s hands back, looking delighted, and Sophie wondered if Amy was right. Maybe, now that he didn’t have to worry about taking care of her all the time, he truly would be as happy with her as she wanted him to be. “Amy, this changes everything,” he breathed.

“I know,” Amy giggled.

“Amy, now that you’re able to walk, and go out and not worry about accessibility… well, you won’t need me anymore, will you?!” Dex asked. Sophie’s heart dropped, even as Dex continued on excitedly. The smile melted off of Amy’s face as he said, “I didn’t know how to tell you I planned to leave tonight. I have to go to the ball, I have to appeal to Biana…”

“Biana?!”

“Yes! Biana Vacker. There’s a ball today, and they’re announcing her engagement to the prince and Captain of the Guard, Keefe Sencen!”

Keefe?

“All this time… you just wanted to leave me… for Biana?!”

“Oh, Amy,” Dex said, genuine sympathy showing on his face. “You know I lost my heart to Biana the moment I first saw her.”

And apparently, so did Keefe, Sophie thought bitterly. She’d needed this splash of cold water, of course. As the years had gone by, Sophie had replayed the moments she’d shared with him over and over, and every time, the looks he gave her seemed more significant, the flowers more meaningful, the word more than just a moment of friendly encouragement. She’d clearly allowed her imagination to get out of control.

“Lost your heart?!” Amy shrieked. “To Biana? No! I won’t listen to this. I won’t accept this! You will lose your heart to me!”

“Amy!” Sophie warned, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You can’t control—”

“Just watch me!” Amy insisted sharply. She knelt to the ground, and for a moment, Sophie wondered what she could possibly be trying. Then she heard the sound of frantically flipping pages.

Sophie’s heart stopped.

“Amy, no,” she said quietly, frozen for just a moment. As soon as Amy settled on a page, the ancient words beginning to spill from her lips, she lunged to grab the book from her hands. Amy held it out of the way as she continued to chant, as though this was a game of keep-away and they were small children again. “You’re pronouncing the words all wrong!” Sophie shouted. And it was true—Sophie could tell just from looking over Amy’s shoulder that she had no idea what she was saying.

Though somehow, she had to have known the title of the spell. To steal a victim’s heart. How, without any training, had she been able to read any of this book at all?

What was it about the two of them that made them different?

Sophie reached up to touch her black swan necklace again. It used to be nothing more than a pendant hanging around her neck, but recently, more and more, she wondered…

Amy finally dropped the book with a gasp, surely feeling the tingling beneath her skin as the ancient magic began to work. “These spells are never what they seem, Amy,” Sophie hissed. “You have no idea what you’ve just done!”

As if on cue, Dex collapsed onto the bench on the other side of Amy’s desk. “What did you do?!” he exclaimed, his breathing coming short.

“Do you feel any different?” Amy asked, the hope and excitement in her voice only further demonstrating her naivete. Sophie shook her head. Whatever had happened, it couldn’t be good. Even if the love spell worked, there were sure to be unexpected consequences, if only from the fact that Amy hadn’t correctly pronounced a single word in the spell.

“It’s… my chest,” Dex gasped, both of his hands moving to press directly over his heart. “Something… isn’t right…”

Understanding dawned on Sophie first. “He’s losing his heart, Amy,” Sophie snapped. “I told you not to mess with powers you don’t understand!”

“Losing his… oh…” the moment Amy understood was marked by the horrible realization showing on her face. “How do I undo it?”

“You can’t.”

“Then you undo it!”

“I can’t! A spell from the ancient texts cannot be undone!” Sophie knew it was objectively a horrible time to be lecturing her sister, as Dex was still groaning as he slid off the bench, sinking to the floor.

“This is all your fault!” Amy suddenly yelled.

“My fault?!”

“If you hadn’t shown me that horrible book—”

“Will you shut up?!” Sophie bit. “I have to try to find another spell. It’s the only way I might be able to save his life.” She flipped through the pages as quickly as possible, looking for any kind of spell that could grow someone a heart.

Such a spell did not exist.

Hearing Dex groan once again, she continued to flip through the pages frantically. There had to be something. Perhaps there was a spell that would allow him to live without a heart…

“Save him!” Amy exclaimed behind her. “Please, just save him…”

“What is happening?” Dex mumbled deliriously.

“Please, he doesn’t have much time!” Amy shouted. Sophie ignored her, settling on a page that would allow one’s body to operate without the need for internal organs.

It wouldn’t restore Dex to normal. But he would be alive.

She could still hear Amy’s laments behind her, but she tuned them out, focusing on chanting slowly under her breath, casting her magic in Dex’s direction. Dex passed out on the floor, though whether this was because of the magic or because it wasn’t working fast enough, she wasn’t sure. Slowly, steadily, she finished the spell, magic buzzing beneath her skin as it always did when she read from the ancient texts.

“Did you do something?” Amy asked, alarmed. “Did it work? Is he alive? Does he still have a heart?!”

“He won’t need one now,” Sophie said, hoping she’d properly interpreted the spell she’d read as she closed the ancient book. “I should head to Eternalia,” she said, standing. “What happened to those gnomes was my fault. Even if I can’t undo the spell, they shouldn’t be forced to—”

“Oh, don’t lie to yourself!” Amy snapped. “You’re not going to save a bunch of gnomes, you’re going to look for Keefe.”

Sophie stepped back, as though her sister had slapped her.

Why had she suddenly decided she needed to save the gnomes? Right now, arbitrarily, all these years after it had happened? It needed to happen, of course. She was right. She needed to go to Eternalia.

But Amy wasn’t wrong.

“It’s too late, Sophie,” Amy said grimly, looking down at Dex’s still slumped form. “It looks like neither of us can have what we really want now, can we?”

“My friends are getting engaged,” Sophie pointed out, her heart speeding up. “Of course I want to see them.”

“You’ve avoided visiting your friends for years, Sophie, and for a good reason. It’s dangerous, of course. So why now?”

“This is a big step, and I just—”

“I don’t understand why you won’t just admit that you—”

“There’s nothing to admit! And I’m leaving. You can tell Dex I saved his life.” Sophie started towards the door, but Amy, who had only a few minutes ago been insisting that she leave, suddenly called out for her in a plea for her to stay.

“Wait, Sophie!” Amy insisted. “You can’t just… leave, not now, not yet—”

Sophie spun around, glaring at her beloved sister. “I have done everything I ever could for you in my life, Amy. It hasn’t been enough, and it never will be.” She was out the door before she could hear another word from her sister.

One last shout occurred from the room as she left, however, and one that would haunt her until she learned what it meant: “IT WASN’T ME, DEX! I DIDN’T DO IT, I TRIED TO STOP HER, IT WAS SOPHIE…”

“What did I do,” Sophie whispered, her own heart twisting. She was so sick of spells going wrong.

But she didn’t have time to worry about that now.

She flung open the doors to Amy’s balcony, swung her legs over the railing, and teleported away.

—Wonderful—

Sophie kept a hood over her face and her eyes downcast to keep herself from being recognized as she walked through the streets of Eternalia. She couldn’t enter the palace through the front gates, but a simple spell to keep away the eyes of others made it quite simple to levitate up to the balcony at the back of the palace and break in that way. She stuck close to the walls as she made her way through the ball, ignoring the people dancing and drinking and having a grand time.

She even ignored Keefe and Biana, dancing together in the middle of it all.

Sophie exited the ballroom as quickly as possible, closing her eyes and picturing what she knew of the palace in her photographic memory. She didn’t know where they kept their army of spies, but if she could find someone on the Council and force them to show her—well, easier said than done, but she was a far more powerful witch than any of them—

“Sophie Foster?”

Sophie spun around, hands raised, ready to cast a spell if necessary. A few ancient words ran through her mind in case it came to that, but she had plenty of instinctive nonverbal magic at her disposal as well. She expected a guard, or perhaps some member of the court who’d wandered away from the ball, but somehow, she’d manifested into existence the exact meeting she’d been hoping to have.

A Councillor.

Councillor Oralie, to be exact.

Sophie kept her hands raised, taking a few steps back, but she didn’t try to run or fight. “Where can I find the army of gnomish spies?” she asked, her voice perfectly even.

Councillor Oralie blinked, not expecting the question. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m trying to find the army of gnomish spies.”

Councillor Oralie took a few steps towards her, slowly, like she was trying to show that she wasn’t a threat. “They have their own space in the lower levels of the palace.”

“So I was right, then. They’re prisoners.”

“They are not prisoners,” Councillor Oralie said. “They are free to resign if they wish.”

“And what happens to them if they resign?” Sophie didn’t buy for a second that every one of those gnomes chose willingly and happily to stay serving a Council that had arranged for them to be cursed in pursuit of an army of spies.

“Nothing!” Councillor Oralie insisted. “Well, nothing like you’re imagining, at least. They lose the protection of the Council and the palace, naturally, but—”

“Then of course they aren’t really free to leave!”

“They don’t need our protection.”

“Gnomes live under Council protection. It’s how their livelihoods work. Do you expect them to simply exile themselves?”

“No, we expect them to stay and serve the Council, which is exactly what they want to do.”

Sophie scoffed.

“Sophie, listen to me,” Councillor Oralie pleaded. “The way things are right now is horrible. I wish it was different.”

“Good, because that’s my entire intention,” Sophie said dryly. “To make things different. Glad we’re in agreement.”

“You can’t just make things different. It doesn’t work that way.”

“You sound like Biana,” Sophie said instinctively.

“And look how far your friend has gotten in life!” Oralie pointed out, proving that mentioning Biana had been a mistake. Sophie opened her mouth to argue, unsure whether she would be defending or condemning her friend, but Oralie cut her off. “But it doesn’t matter. Listen. I’ve been hoping you’d stop by for a while now. Not the entire Council agrees, but enough of us wish to offer you a… proposition…” Oralie squinted her eyes at Sophie, like she’d just noticed something. She began to walk closer, but Sophie scrambled back instinctively, her arms raised in preparation to cast a defensive spell. “I’m not going to hurt you!” Oralie exclaimed. “I’ve never meant to—”

“Well you have. You have hurt me—”

“Your necklace,” Oralie interrupted, making Sophie freeze. This time, she let Oralie approach her, her eyes settling on the black swan pendant on Sophie’s neck. “Where did you get it?”

Sophie swallowed. “I’ve always had it,” she said, her mouth dry. How did the Council know about the necklace?

She reached up and touched it instinctively. She’d been wondering about its significance for a while now. Could the Council really have been the answer to this mystery all along?

“Always,” Oralie repeated, looking slightly dazed. “As long as you can remember?”

Sophie nodded mutely, unsure where she was going with this. “Why? What is it?” Sophie wasn’t sure whether or not she really wanted Oralie to respond. Of all the people to know the origins of her necklace…

“Nothing. Just a very pretty necklace,” Oralie said, once again proving the Council’s tendency to lie. Sophie didn’t press the issue, though. If she was ever going to hear more about the background behind her longest owned possession, she didn’t want it to be from a Councillor. She’d rather never know.

Oralie exhaled, a tender, fragile sort of understanding settling over her face. “Well, we still have a proposition for you,” Oralie said shakily. “We want to stand with you.”

“You want to stand with me, or you want me to stand with you?”

“Both,” Oralie replied. “A sort of compromise. Aren’t you tired of running? Aren’t you tired of trying and trying to get things to change, only to fail over and over because of your lack of positive influence?”

Sophie said nothing.

“Your reputation hurts your cause,” Oralie continued. “We could fix that. If we bring you into the light, dress you differently…” Okay, now she was beginning to sound like Biana. “It wouldn’t take much. We tell the people there was an enormous misunderstanding. We tell them you work for the rehabilitation of misguided sorcerers, and—”

“Misguided?” Sophie interrupted. “As in, they learned the type of magic you told them to learn, or whatever came most naturally to them while it was legal—”

“I know you disagree with our methods for uniting the people,” Oralie interrupted. “And I don’t expect that to change. But every problem can have an eventual solution. An ongoing issue does nothing but cause increased fear until the Council is overthrown by unhappy and terrified people. But a problem that induces fear, followed by the perfect fix, introduced by the leaders…”

“Sounds terrible,” Sophie remarked brightly, “and not at all like something I want to be a part of!”

“We don’t have to agree on the reasoning. We don’t expect you to ever agree. But you would still get exactly what you want—quelled fear of certain forms of sorcery, released prisoners…”

The word “prisoners” soured her mood once again, but Oralie was right about one thing: she was so tired of running and hiding.

And she wasn’t getting anywhere.

Sophie let out a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay, I can do that—”

“Perfect!”

“—but I have a condition!” Sophie finished, waiting for Oralie’s reaction.

Oralie nodded slowly, hesitating. “Well… it is a compromise, after all… what do you propose?”

“I want you to release the gnomish spies from service, with a promise of the same full protection from the Council the rest of their species receives!” Sophie crossed her arms, giving Oralie a defiant look that let her know she would absolutely not be moving. She would not compromise any further.

Oralie hesitated.

But then… “I need to ask the rest of the Council, but I think it would be acceptable. Come.” Oralie gestured for her to follow as she led Sophie to a narrow staircase similar to the one she’d used to get up to the dome the day she’d first teleported out of Eternalia. This time, instead of heading as far up as she could, she was following Oralie down so far she figured they had to be underground.

They finally exited onto a dimly lit floor built from stone instead of crystal. If a few cages were added, it would pass for a dungeon. “This is where the spies are kept?!” Sophie hissed, disgust dripping off of her voice.

“It’s less where they’re kept and more where they live,” Oralie corrected.

Sophie didn’t argue, but she didn’t believe her.

Eventually, they reached a room with glass walls and doors, allowing Sophie to see in. The red-eyed gnomes looked as miserable as the last time she’d seen them, sending guilt spiraling through her body, and though they each had their own space and bed, hundreds of them were in the same room.

It did look like a cage.

“Why are they all in there right now?”

Oralie winced. “Well… they’re not on assignment.”

“So they only leave when they’re on assignment?” Sophie’s eyes settled on the door, which had a glass latch on the outside, preventing it from opening. “It’s locked from the outside?! And you insist they aren’t prisoners!”

“They’re not imprisoned!”

“They can’t leave!”

“They don’t need to!”

“I’m undoing the latch,” Sophie said, stepping towards the door. Oralie held out an arm to block her.

“I have to check with the Council first, Sophie. Remember?” Oralie reminded her. “And if you’re interested in our compromise, you’ll cooperate.”

She wondered what sort of conversations the Council had with these gnomes to convince them to cooperate.

“How soon?” Sophie demanded.

“I can go and gather the rest of the Council right now, if you’d like,” Oralie suggested. “You can stay here. Walk around a little. I promise you, it isn’t as dark or dreary as you seem to feel like it is.” She turned around, lifting her beautiful gown to allow her to start back up the stairs.

Sophie turned back towards the gnomes. “I’m so, so sorry,” she breathed. She wondered if they could hear her.

“It isn’t your fault,” one of them replied, their voice muffled by the glass. “We were there. We know the Council asked this of you.”

“I should have thought twice before I did it, though.” Sophie hung her head. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

“You’re the witch, then,” the same gnome said. “You’re the one they call evil.”

Sophie winced. “Yeah.”

“To us, you are anything but,” another gnome piped up. “We know the lies of the Council. We do not fault you for trying to expose their lies.” The two gnomes who had spoken made their way closer to the glass. “My name is Tali.”

“Mine is Bryn,” said the other.

“I’m Sophie,” Sophie introduced tentatively, “though I’m sure you know…”

“If I ever did, I had forgotten,” Bryn admitted. “They refer to you only as the witch nowadays. Or the evil witch, to distinguish you from the good witch, Biana Vacker.”

“They do keep you imprisoned here, don’t they?” Sophie breathed.

“We’re not… strictly prisoners,” Tali said hesitantly. “But we’re only allowed to leave when we’re on assignment.”

“Then you aren’t free.” Sophie felt her voice harden, and she made no attempt to soften it. “I won’t stand for this. Here.” She walked briskly to the door of what she now knew was a cage, reaching for the latch.

“Wait!” Bryn cried out. “If you undo the latch without the special null the Councillors use, it triggers the alarms. The guards will come running.”

“I’m not afraid of the guards,” Sophie told them. It was true. She was far more powerful than anyone in this palace.

“What about the compromise?” another gnome said quietly in the corner. “The Councillor that was down here mentioned a compromise. If you trigger the alarms…”

“I don’t want a compromise.” Her own conviction surprised her, but she knew she couldn’t stand for any of this. A compromise required her to give at least a little.

That was something she knew she wouldn’t be doing.

Before she could change her mind, she flipped open the latch and swung open the door. Right on cue, alarms started blaring.

The gnomes crowded through the door in a hurry, and Sophie had never been more sure that they’d been secretly desperate to escape. “Where do we go?” Bryn whispered.

Sophie stretched her hands out towards the stone ceiling above them. She’d done this before. If she could just channel enough energy…

…the stone cracked.

And then it fell.

There was a brief gasp of terror before it turned to dust above them, just like the dome in Eternalia the day she first left, and the roof of the Foxfire pyramid when she’d attacked the University, and every other time she’d used her power for destruction. Yes, she knew this was part of why they said she was evil. No, she didn’t care.

She knew what she was doing, and whether or not the others understood wasn’t her problem.

As the dust cleared, it became clear they weren’t very far underground. “The walls have dents in them from the collapse,” Sophie realized, pointing. “You can use those to climb out of here!”

The gnomes were scrambling up the walls before she’d even finished speaking the last word. Luckily, most of them had fully escaped before the guards filed into the room through the stairs, each of them holding rifles. Sophie stumbled back, surprised. She still wasn’t… afraid, but she’d been fighting with magic against magic for so long that she’d forgotten guns existed.

And she’d never faced the actual guards before, never allowing them to catch her. So when she saw the man standing at the front, looking determined, holding a rifle of his own, dressed up in the uniform of the Captain of the Guard… well, she almost dropped her spellbook.

He seemed equally as caught off guard.

Keefe Sencen.

Of course it was him. Who else could it be? If Biana was going to work for the Council, why not her fiance?

“You,” Sophie breathed, frozen in place. She should fight them. She should climb out of the cavern and teleport away. She should cast some kind of curse. She should do something.

“You,” Keefe whispered back.

Time seemed to stop moving.

“Keefe, I—”

“Silence, witch!” Keefe ordered, his expression hardening. No, not you too, Sophie pleaded internally, holding up her hands. She surprised herself with an expression of surrender instead of a stance for fighting.

She didn’t know if she could fight Keefe.

Keefe turned to his men. “Fetch large buckets of water, as many as you can carry!”

“Yes, sir!” Three of them left.

“All of you,” Keefe said impatiently. “I can handle her in the meantime.”

“Yes, sir!” The rest of them filed out.

Water? Sophie was aware of the rumor, but there was something fishy about Keefe believing it. It didn’t seem right. Keefe had to know the idea that water could melt her was preposterous.

In fact, the memory of Keefe that played over and over again in her mind ended with the two of them walking away in the rain. Keefe knew the truth. It didn’t even have to be a matter of faith, it was a matter of logic. And Keefe wasn’t nearly as stupid as he used to pretend to be.

So, as soon as it was just the two of them, she slowly lowered her hands.

He lowered his gun.

For a moment, neither of them knew what to say.

Then Sophie whispered, “Thank goodness,” all of her tension releasing with the words. She’d been truly, horribly terrified that he’d turned against her. That he believed the lies. That he spread the lies.

He was Captain of the Guard, after all.

“I thought you might have changed,” she added, still so quietly the echo seemed louder than her actual words.

“I have changed,” Keefe replied. His gaze was focused on her entirely, though, his eyes raking over her slowly. He must have noticed her change in style. It was easier to hide dirt on black things, so she’d taken to dressing head to toe in practical black dress that matched her cape. She surely looked different to him, and he surely noticed.

“So have I.”

There was so much to say, and yet, Sophie couldn’t think of the words for any of it. Keefe seemed to be equally at a loss.

The doors by the staircase swung open, and Keefe and Sophie spun in unison, both of them thinking the same thing: did the guards really return so quickly?

But no. It wasn’t the guards.

Arguably, it was worse.

Three Councillors.

Oralie. Kenric. Terik.

None of them looked pleased.

“And to think we’d decided to accept the terms of your deal,” Terik said, sounding genuinely disappointed.

“And I realized I wanted nothing to do with any sort of deal involving you!” she spat. Terik and Kenric looked like they’d been expecting it. They almost looked apologetic, in an odd sort of way. But Oralie looked like she’d been slapped.

What had changed when Oralie saw her necklace? She hadn’t been acting the same ever since. It was a direct correlation, and it seemed to have made Oralie strangely sensitive.

Well, Sophie had no sympathy, and she didn’t owe her any. “So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way. I’ve done what I came here to do.”

“Stop her!” Terik ordered Keefe. For a moment, Sophie wondered what Keefe was going to do.

Then he leveled his rifle directly at Councillor Kenric. “Let her go,” Keefe bit. “Or I will fire this.”

Poor Councillor Oralie almost looked distraught enough for Sophie to feel sorry for her—but she didn’t. She wasn’t about to give Oralie any more sympathy than she’d earned, which was absolutely none. “You wouldn’t!” Oralie’s voice broke as she said the words.

“I would.” The lack of regret or hesitation in Keefe’s voice should have scared her, but it didn’t. Sophie understood. She’d been in his place.

Her hands weren’t entirely clean.

The door swung open again, and Sophie was sure it would be the guards this time. She raised her hands in preparation for a fight, but instead of uniforms and guns, Sophie found herself staring at the beautiful face of her closest friend, looking as purposefully fragile as ever.

“Keefe, come back to the ball,” Biana said lightly, before registering Sophie’s presence. “SOPHIE?!” she squealed.

“Biana!” Sophie exclaimed as her friend rushed over to envelop her in a hug, clearly oblivious to their tense surroundings.

“Oh, Sophie, it is so incredibly good to see you! You look amazing, too! I know we’ve talked about your color palette before, but I’ve gotta say, the black really suits you. You should wear red more often, though. You should let me dress you up—you know, for old time’s sake…” Biana trailed off, her gaze finding her fiance only a few feet away, still pointing a rifle directly as Councillor Kenric. “Keefe, have you misplaced your mind?!” she hissed. “What are you doing?!”

Keefe opened his mouth, then closed it. Then, as though on a whim, “I’m going with her!” burst from his lips. He seemed surprised by his own words, but he didn’t take them back.

They hung in the air for a moment.

Then, “WHAT?!” Biana shrieked.

“What?” Sophie whispered.

“I said I’m going with her,” Keefe said again, backing towards Sophie, his gun still trained on Councillor Kenric.

“So this was the plan, then?!” Terik demanded. “To become our Captain of the Guard and betray us?”

“There was no plan,” Sophie murmured, mostly to herself, looking at Keefe like she was seeing him for the first time. Didn’t he realize her life was one on the run? One without the comfy beds he was used to or extravagant meals he’d grown up with as a prince?

“No, the plan was to become the captain and find her,” Keefe corrected. “And now I have. And I’m going with her.”

“So wait,” Biana interrupted. She blinked hard, like she was trying to maintain a strong front, but the pain in her eyes and voice couldn’t hide themselves from Sophie. “You mean to say that all this time… the two of you… behind my back…”

For a moment, Sophie didn’t know what she meant.

Then she understood.

All the nights Sophie had spent overthinking the few moments they’d spent together. Had Keefe been overthinking them too? Had Biana?

Was that what this was? She couldn’t dare to hope. Not only was letting herself want things a sure way to get disappointed, but it was also terribly, horribly selfish to want something that was rightfully Biana’s.

Keefe was her fiance.

What was this?!

“It wasn’t like that,” Sophie said firmly, needing her to understand.

“Well, it was,” Keefe said with a slight grimace. The words came across almost flippantly, though it was clear he understood the weight they carried.

Sophie reeled on him, glaring. It was not. Unless he’d been thinking about her the same way she’d been thinking about him… even still, those were just thoughts. There was no such thing as bad thoughts! He had been faithful to Biana!

Keefe backpedaled when he saw the look Sophie was giving him. “Well, it wasn’t! Not… exactly,” he stuttered. Biana took a few steps back, the betrayal on her face only getting worse with every word he uttered. “I just…” he glanced over at Sophie, and then at Biana.

Sophie suddenly became very aware that three councillors were listening to this conversation. Her cheeks heated, and even more than before, she needed this to be over.

“I… let’s go.” Keefe backed towards Sophie, grabbing her hand, the gun still pointed at the members of the Council in front of them. “Let’s go!”

Sophie squeezed his hand and ran. Keefe returned his gun to its holster as they climbed the rocks as quickly as possible, tumbling over the ledge and into the grass. “Fine! Go!” Biana’s high-pitched and thoroughly betrayed voice shouted behind them as they ran. “You deserve each other!”

Sophie ignored the part of her that wanted to turn around and run back to her friend. She felt the need to make things right, of course, but Biana was back there on the wrong side and she couldn’t just run straight to the Council. Not now that she’d officially burned a bridge that was only just beginning to be rebuilt.

“So, you need to jump off a cliff or something to do the teleportation thing, right?” Keefe shouted as they ran.

“Not anymore! Not if I can just…” She closed her eyes, focusing on how fast they were running, on running even faster, on her strides becoming so long she was blinking in and out of whatever void seemed to exist outside of space, and after only a few more moments, she and Keefe tumbled into the darkness.

—As Long as You’re Mine—

Sophie and Keefe tumbled out of the darkness and onto the hard ground. Sophie landed with more grace than he did. Keefe cursed softly under his breath, rubbing his shoulder slightly as he took in their surroundings. “We’re in the woods.”

“We are,” Sophie agreed. “This is where I’ve been hiding.”

Keefe shook his head. “That makes no sense,” he murmured. “My men and I searched every nearby forest, turned them all upside down…”

Sophie ignored the fact that he’d been leading full armies of soldiers after her. After all, it was the implication of his title, and she didn’t have time to be upset with his methods. She was still adjusting to the fact that he was even there. “I cast a protective spell on the trees,” Sophie explained. “Wherever I am, the shrubbery appears thicker, so I am never visible.”

Keefe’s eyes widened. “Wow. Should have known you’d be too smart for us,” he teased. The tease didn’t land as well as it would have if he hadn’t used the word us.

Even if Keefe was on her side, it was clear his head was still back in Eternalia, living the comfortable life he’d achieved. “You have to go back,” Sophie said, hating the words as she said them. “You can’t do this.”

Keefe looked genuinely offended. “What do you mean I can’t? Sophie, I made this choice. I always knew I was going to make this choice.”

“You can’t be Captain of the Guard anymore. You’ll go months, possibly even years, without seeing Biana. Without seeing anyone except me. We’ll rarely have shelter aside from what I can come up with using magic, and we won’t have any of the comfort you’re used to, like beds and consistent changes of clothing and showers and a variety of food and—”

“You think I care about those things?” Keefe interrupted. “Yes, I’m used to certain things, and yes, I grew up a prince, but I’m choosing to give them up. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Sophie challenged.

“No,” Keefe admitted easily. “But I’m nothing but excited to find out—yes, even if it means I sleep on the ground and don’t change out of this uniform for weeks,” he added when she tried to interrupt. “Food and showers are great, yes, but I just want…” Keefe sighed. “I just want you, Sophie.”

Sophie could barely think after hearing the words.

Oh yes, she’d thought about him saying them, and then told herself she hadn’t. She’d read into every detail of the few interactions they’d ever had as far as they could possibly be read into. She’d imagined what might happen if he lay awake at night, not thinking about Biana but about her, and then quickly dispelled the thoughts from her mind, telling herself it had been far too long and she’d allowed her imagination to run far too wild.

And here he was, saying he was willing to give up everything he’d ever known in life… because he wanted her.

“This might be a bit of a leap,” Keefe murmured, stepping closer to her, “because this is the first time we’ve seen each other in person in years, but… the more I think about you, the more I think I love you.” The last three words came out like a whisper. “You’re all I’ve thought about ever since you left, and… I am absolutely crazy about you,” he said bluntly. “And you don’t have to say it back. I know it’s insanity, and you might not even feel the same way—”

“I do,” Sophie interrupted. “I mean… the word ‘love’ is… terrifying. But I’ve been thinking about you more than I should, I think.”

“I’ve definitely been thinking about you more than I should,” Keefe agreed. “Especially considering…” he trailed off, but Sophie knew the end of his sentence.

He was engaged to Biana.

Even before that, he’d been dating Biana.

If Keefe thought he was in love with her, why had he spent so much time stringing her friend along?

Sophie didn’t want to have that conversation now, though. She understood complications better than anyone. And she didn’t have energy for a fight, not now, not when she’d just gotten Keefe back after so long.

“Then again,” Sophie whispered, taking another step towards him, “I’ve been doing lots of things I shouldn’t.”

“That you have,” Keefe murmured.

“They say I’m evil.”

“That they do.”

“You’re sure you want to be in love with the evil witch?”

“Very sure,” Keefe confirmed. “All that matters now is how you feel.”

Sophie paused. They were standing so close now that she could feel his breath on her cheeks, and as cliche as it sounded, it made her very, very aware of how easy it would be to kiss him. “I feel…” she trailed off, reaching up with one of her hands to cup his face. “I feel like all I’ve ever wanted to feel is love,” she breathed, “and now you’re here, and suddenly it seems like it might be possible.”

“Well, you’re far more eloquent than I, it seems.” And with that, the conversation was over.

His lips were on hers.

In the back of her mind there were concerns. Concerns about Keefe’s understanding of the commitment he was making. Concerns about Keefe’s willingness to stay so long with a girl he knew he didn’t love. Concerns about the way in which she was betraying her closest friend.

But just a few moments of his mouth moving against hers was all it took to cure her of all the concerns.

She reached up with both of her hands, threading them through his hair, and his hands snaked around her waist, using them to pull her even closer to him. They were both so desperate to be as close to each other as possible that they were beginning to lose their balance, and Keefe’s solution to this was to back her up just a few paces so her back was pressed against the rough bark of an old tree, allowing him to lean into her. Sophie appreciated the extra leverage, allowing her to pull him impossibly closer, but she was starting to feel less than satisfied with their slow, easy pace.

She’d take the time to drink him in later. Right now, she needed him to kiss her as fiercely as he possibly could. She tried to show him this by increasing the intensity of their kiss, and he understood immediately, tilting his head to achieve a better angle, to kiss her deeper, to kiss her the way she needed to be kissed.

When the two of them came up for air, Sophie managed through her labored breaths, “Hold me… as tight… as you can. Convince me… that you’re really… here.” No sooner had the last word escaped her lips than his mouth was once again on hers, his arms somehow managing to hold her even tighter than before. She couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t need to. She didn’t need oxygen; she needed more of him.

She’d never dared to let herself imagine this. Yes, she’d let her imagination run slightly wild, adding implications to every word he’d ever said to her that seemed preposterous at the time. But she had never let herself imagine him holding her like this, kissing her like this… even now, it felt surreal.

When Keefe’s lips migrated off of hers, peppering kisses to her jawline, she whispered, “I still don’t understand how this is real.”

“It certainly feels real,” Keefe murmured. And that it certainly did—she gasped, gripping his hair tighter as his lips began to work their way down her neck.

“I got so used to… I…” Sophie briefly lost her train of thought as he found yet another particularly sensitive spot, accidentally tugging on his hair again. “I got so used to the idea of you being someone else’s, I never even imagined…”

Keefe briefly paused what he was doing, leveling his eyes with hers. “I was never hers, Sophie,” he asserted. “I was always, and still am, completely and wholly yours. As long as you’re mine.”

“Of course I’m yours,” she breathed. Before she had the opportunity to say anything else, his mouth was on hers once again, hot and insistent, and she gave into the magic immediately, her hands snaking up his back. So what if all these years, he wasn’t hers to dream about? He was hers now. There was something to worry about there, surely, and she’d probably remember what it was later, but for now, she didn’t have any energy for worrying. She had no resistance left.

Even though she worked alone, everything she did was constantly for others. Re-legalize all forms of magic. Save the imprisoned sorcerers. Save the cursed gnomes.

Right now, she just wanted something for herself. And she was determined to make every last moment last.

“You’re such an idiot,” she muttered without any bite as her lips wandered off of his. She made her way across his jawline and over by his earlobe, whispering against his skin, “You should have broken up with her so much sooner.”

“Yeah,” Keefe agreed, though the way his tone came out, his mind seemed to be a little fuzzy. Sophie grinned, taking pride in this. He eventually seemed to actually register what she’d said, though, because he added, “I should have. But I can’t undo that now. And I can’t ever go back. I see things… so differently with you.”

“Oh really?” Sophie pressed her lips to his softly, pulling back to hear his response. “How so?”

“Well, right now I’m seeing stars, but I just mean… the world isn’t the same through your perspective, and I like it that way.” His lips quirked into the familiar smirk she recognized from their days at Foxfire. “And I really like this. Seriously, are you doing magic on me, or…”

Sophie shut him up with another searing kiss. She was satisfied with his response, and officially done with not kissing him. They had so much time to make up for, so many years he’d spent alongside a girl he never loved, so many nights she’d spent convincing herself this was all in her head. Their future was uncertain, yes, but that didn’t matter right now.

All that mattered was the way she couldn’t seem to support her own weight anymore, even leaning against the tree, and as her knees weakened, he followed her to the ground. All that mattered was the way his hands had made their way inside her tunic, sliding up her sides like she was something sacred. All that mattered was how amazing he looked on top of her, illuminated by the moonlight, his eyes shining with something beautiful and pure, like she was the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen.

But she wasn’t.

The thought hit her suddenly like cold water, and the haze in her mind cleared. She wasn’t the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and she never would be. That title would go to Biana, and even still, there were thousands of girls prettier than her, and Keefe was objectively one of the most handsome men in the Lost Cities. He and Biana were voted hottest couple only a few months ago. The article had been right above one blaming her for the fires in Eternalia that she didn’t set.

Keefe sensed that something was wrong immediately, shifting so less of his weight was pressing into her as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Sophie wanted to lie. But there was something so open about the concern in his eyes that loosened her tongue, turning her completely honest, though perhaps it was her lingering muddled mind from his intoxicating kisses. “I just wish I could be beautiful for you,” she blurted out.

His eyes somehow managed to soften, which was a true feat, considering how soft his gaze already was. “Sophie…”

“Don’t tell me that I am.” Sophie couldn’t stand hearing him tell her what he thought was the right thing when they both knew it wasn’t true. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“What? Sophie, it isn’t lying,” Keefe said firmly. “You are hands down the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life, and the fact that you don’t know it only makes you more attractive.”

Sophie scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ve been told my entire life that my eyes make my face nearly impossible to look at—”

“Look at me, Sophie,” Keefe instructed. It was an easy task, especially with the way he was still on top of her, and looked… well, he always looked amazing. “Look at the way I’m looking at you right now. Does it look like I find your face impossible to look at?” His eyes scanned her fully, before settling back on her face. He looked… completely enamored with her. “You can read minds, can’t you? Or is that a rumor?”

“I can, but I only do it with permission.”

“Then you have my permission, Sophie. Read my mind. See what I really think about you.”

His eyes shone with sincerity, so after a moment’s hesitation, Sophie closed her eyes and slipped past his defenses. She gasped at the sharpness of his mind. The only time she’d ever seen memories as clear as this was in her own mind.

You have a photographic memory, she transmitted as she sorted through his most recent memories, which mostly involved being on top of her. She blushed as she watched the two of them get more and more wrapped up in each other.

I do, Keefe replied mentally, almost bashfully. I guess I don’t talk about it a lot.

Sophie searched through the memories regarding her, most of which they’d just made, and was stunned when she realized the sentiments that surrounded the way he saw her.

Beautiful.

Perfect.

Amazing.

Brilliant.

Gorgeous.

Utterly intoxicating.

His imagination had also taken a few steps into a few possible futures from the moment they were currently living, which made Sophie’s cheeks heat up. “Wow,” she breathed aloud as she pulled out of his mine. “It really doesn’t bother you? My eyes, I mean? They seem to bother everyone else.”

“Just as beautiful as the rest of you,” Keefe confirmed.

And he meant it.

Sophie had never imagined anyone would say anything of the sort to her and mean it. Even Biana, who she considered a dear friend, had bluntly admitted that her brown eyes were likely her worst physical trait.

And here Keefe was, saying the most amazing things in the world.

He reached for her face, brushing a strand of hair off her cheek before he leaned down to kiss her. Sophie immediately allowed herself to be swept up in the magic, the electricity that sparked between them, pulling him down closer, tangling their legs together, and not even attempting to put up a fight against her own desires.

Not one thing in the past three years had gone right for her. She deserved to have just this one thing.

No matter how it came to be.

Biana had plenty of good things.

It was only fair to Sophie.

—No Good Deed—

Sophie awoke to the sun peeking through the trees after the first full, good night of sleep she’d gotten in a very long time.

She was still sleeping on a patch of moss. But she was sleeping on a patch of moss with Keefe, and somehow, he managed to look so peaceful despite the fact that this was objectively probably the least comfortable surface he’d ever slept on. His arm was around her shoulders, and somehow, that alone was more comfortable than if she’d been on her bed back home, a warm comforter on top of her.

Normally, Sophie got up as soon as she was awake, needing to be as efficient as possible. Sleep was nothing but a necessity. But right now, she allowed herself this moment of just… peacefully lying beside the most perfect, amazing guy in the Lost Cities.

And he truly was amazing. If she’d learned anything the night before, it was that the rumors about him were absolutely true, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be jealous of any of the girls who’d started those rumors back when they were in university. After all, according to his mind, he was truly and completely hers, so there was no reason for her not to enjoy the fact that he was… experienced.

Sophie felt the moment Keefe began to stir beside her, his eyes blinking as they adjusted to the light coming down through the trees. “Wow,” he said under his breath. “I’m really here.”

Even though Keefe had gone to great lengths to dispel any doubts or worries from Sophie’s mind the night before, she still felt a few of them creep back in. “Any regrets yet?”

“Nope. And there never will be.” Keefe turned over on his side to face her, and the sincerity was still written all over his face, just as intense as it had been as he kissed her for the first time the night before, and when he’d told her everything about her was beautiful, even her eyes… looking at that expression again was more than enough to convince Sophie that he’d meant every word he’d said. “I can’t believe I’m here because it feels like a dream, Sophie. I imagined this so many times, but I was beginning to think I’d never get the chance to make it come true.”

“You give quite the speeches,” Sophie murmured, pressing a feather-light kiss to his lips as her cheeks reddened with his praise.

“Only what you deserve.”

Sophie was trying to think of an equally sappy reply to extend the moment when the sun above the trees instantly vanished, clouds immediately covering the sky. “Did you do that?” Keefe asked, squinting at the sky, trying to make sense of it.

Sophie shook her head, sitting up in alarm. “No, I didn’t. But someone had to have made it happen. That’s not how the weather works.”

“It’s not,” Keefe agreed. “Do any of the Councillors know how to do weather magic?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Sophie muttered, when suddenly, a memory from back at Foxfire struck her with lightning.

“We’ll have to work on weather magic, then. It just so happens to be my specialty.”

“Magnate Leto does, though,” Sophie said under her breath. “What is he up to?”

“Would a storm hide the magic that protects you?” Keefe asked curiously. “The spells that keep you from being found?”

Sophie shook her head. “It’s held up in bad weather before. I mean, this could just be a… coincidence…” As soon as she finished the words, her mind began to fill with images that weren’t hers.

These visions were never fully accurate. They were hazy and always left out important details. But they were always, always, true in some ways. “Do you hear that?” Sophie whispered, mostly to herself. She knew Keefe wouldn’t be seeing the same visions as her. “It sounds like… someone in pain…” In fact, it almost sounded like her sister… but she had to be making that up in her own worry. Right?

“I don’t hear anything,” Keefe said, looking at her like she was slightly crazy.

“Of course you don’t. But I…” Sophie gasped when she saw the sudden shift in the weather play out in her mind, fast winds blowing a… a what? That couldn’t be right. “I see a house… and it looks like it’s flying through the sky!”

“What are you talking about?!”

“It’s headed east… it’s my sister. She’s in trouble, I know she is.” She scrambled to her feet. “I have to go find my sister.”

“Your sister is fine, Sophie!” Keefe insisted. “There are no people crying out in pain and no houses flying through the sky. Take a deep breath, okay?”

“You don’t understand.” Sophie placed her hands on Keefe’s shoulders, looking him square in the eye. “When something important is going to happen, sometimes I get these… visions. They’re not always detailed enough to tell me everything I need to know, but they’re never wrong.”

Keefe nodded. He still looked slightly disbelieving, but he listened to her. “Okay. I’m coming with you then.”

“No,” Sophie insisted. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m not afraid of your sister. I know that some people—”

“That’s not what I mean,” Sophie interrupted. “You can’t follow me when I go out in the open like this. It’s dangerous. There are people who want to find me, capture me, and kill me, and I’m sure you’re on the traitor list now as well, okay? So stay safe, and… promise that you’ll see me again.”

Keefe’s gaze softened, and he pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her. It was almost enough to make her forget that her sister might be in trouble. “Of course, Sophie. We will always see each other again. You can see houses flying through the sky; can’t you see that?”

Sophie cracked a smile. Of course. Keefe wouldn’t ever leave her, not forever, not after what she’d seen in his mind. It made significantly more sense than the idea that Magnate Leto was making it rain houses.

“Listen,” Keefe said suddenly. “When you’re satisfied that Amy is safe, there’s this castle out west that my family owns. No one has lived in it in years. The only people there are the sentries that watch over it, and they’re loyal to my family. I’ll send word to them. They won’t turn against you.”

“You want me to live in your castle?”

Keefe shrugged. “It’s a little run down, but it’s better than casting spells to protect you in the woods.”

“Then where does your family live?”

“The other castle.”

“Oh, of course.”

“I will keep my promise,” Keefe said firmly. “We will see each other again.”

Sophie pulled him in for one last embrace before they separated. She ran as fast as she could through the clearest path in the forest that she could find, focusing on building enough momentum to teleport. As soon as she began to flicker in and out of the void, she focused on Amy’s home as strongly as she could, and tumbled into the darkness.

—

Sophie’s teleportation was fantastic, of course, but Biana was a particular fan of the theatrics of her bubble travel method. The people loved it, the Council loved it, and it was a form of magic she was able to pull off consistently.

She knew the reason the people called for her. Everyone was in a mix of shock and joy to find that Amy Foster was dead.

The witch’s sister is just as evil as she is, the people used to say. Now they said, She was crushed by a house with a teen boy driving it! Good news, good news, the witch is dead!

Houses couldn’t be driven. Biana was sure this had to do with the tornado that formed out of the blue. And well, she had her suspicions about that…

She hoped it wasn’t because of what she’d told the Council. She’d told them to spread a rumor that Amy was in danger to get Sophie to run into their trap. It was wrong, of course, but wasn’t it wrong of Sophie to run off with her fiance, not a hint of remorse on her face?

She didn’t mean for Amy to die, though.

Please, please, please let this have been an accident, Biana pleaded with the universe. Please let this have been a random, unexpected weather event.

The aforementioned teenage boy was the first person Biana saw as she landed. He was wearing unfamiliar clothing, staring at his surroundings like they were the strangest thing he’d ever seen in his life, and one thing was for sure: he definitely didn’t know he’d killed a witch.

Biana put on her best performance smile as she approached the boy, whose eyes widened as they landed on her magic wand. “Okay,” he said, “this is definitely not Kansas.”

What was a Kansas?

Biana kept her smile plastered to her face. What was she supposed to say now? The rumors had been that the boy was a wizard, and that he’d used sorcery to drop a house on top of Amy Foster. “Well,” she said slowly, “are you a good wizard or a bad wizard?” Yes, that was the right thing to say. That made sense.

The boy blinked. “Am I a what?”

Oh, yikes.

“A wizard,” Biana repeated. Please say something that makes sense. I can’t do this today.

“Um… I’m not,” he said slowly. “My name is Jensi. I’m from Kansas?”

Seriously, what was a Kansas? “Well, I was called because a mysterious new wizard just dropped a house on one of our most evil witches!” Hold the smile. Call Amy evil. You’ve done it for years. “And there’s the house, and here you are, and that’s all that’s left of the witch.”

Jensi gasped, taking a step back when he saw feet poking out from underneath his house. “Oh, I really didn’t mean to do that!” he exclaimed. “That’s my house, yes, but I didn’t want to kill anybody!”

“But your house landed from out of the sky,” Biana said. She believed him, yes, but she was genuinely at a loss for what else to say. It was clear to her that this boy was from an entirely different reality that she was not prepared to deal with today. “So the question is whether you are a good wizard or a bad wizard!”

“I’m not a wizard! Wizards have long beards and pointy hats with stars on them.”

Biana raised an eyebrow. Well, she’d certainly never heard that before. “Well, you are a hero of the people!” she exclaimed, moving on. “You’re an answer to their deepest wishes, come down from a star—a beautiful star called Kansas!”

“Kansas isn’t a star. It’s a state.”

Will you just work with me here?! Biana wanted to exclaim. “The people are celebrating you,” she said, keeping up her smile. She wasn’t even gritting her teeth. She’d gotten every good at this.

“Oh. Well…” Jensi looked slightly uncomfortable. “Interesting. I still don’t think I’ve done anything very notable—”

Biana was saved from having to come up with another ridiculous and meaningless response by a crack of thunder. Sophie tumbled onto the ground in front of them, looking very, very determined, and very, very angry.

Biana closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Great! More to figure out how to handle! Now her maybe-best-friend-who-sort-of-betrayed-her was here, looking every bit the evil witch she’d always been described as, and here was this boy who had maybe accidentally killed her sister, and here was this house from some place called Kansas crushing Sophie’s sister, and she didn’t have the energy for this today.

“I thought you said she was dead!” Jensi said, stumbling back with fear.

“That’s her sister,” Biana explained, stepping in front of Jensi. She didn’t know if it was really necessary to protect him from her, but she had to put on a show. Besides… she really didn’t know.

She and Sophie hadn’t talked in a long time.

She didn’t know which attacks Sophie was and wasn’t responsible for.

She would never believe her friend was evil, even with the way she and Keefe had betrayed her. But she wasn’t totally certain that she was… stable.

Sophie approached Biana, looking her square in the eye. She looked furious. Her gaze flitted over to Jensi for a moment, but then moved back to her. “Who killed her?” she hissed. “Was it you?”

“What?!” Biana exclaimed. “It most certainly was not!” Biana couldn’t say anything she really wanted to, not here, and Sophie couldn’t either, but she couldn’t believe Sophie would think such a thing about her.

Then again, she was the one who’d told the Council Sophie’s sister was the way to capture her.

It’s a coincidence, she told herself weakly.

“Was it you, then?!” Sophie asked, turning to Jensi. Jensi stumbled back, frightened, but Sophie didn’t seem to care. Biana knew grief was hard, but Sophie seriously needed to stop this, or the evil witch allegations wouldn’t be going anywhere.

“It-it was an accident,” Jensi stammered. “I didn’t mean to kill anyone, I swear. I would never have killed her on purpose.”

Sophie grit her teeth, but turned back in the direction of the house. It was moments like these that reminded Biana that Sophie was just a normal girl who wanted the best for the world. A hurt girl, but still one who wanted nothing but the best.

If Sophie wanted to vaporize Jensi on the spot, she would have. She had the power.

But Biana was, of course, the only one who saw that.

“I can cause accidents too,” Sophie muttered dangerously, not helping her cause at all as she walked towards the house. She knelt next to what remained of her sister’s body. Her eyes fixated on the ruby slippers she wore.

Of course. Those contained some form of magic, right? Once upon a time they’d been silver, yet ever since they’d changed colors, Amy had miraculously been able to walk. Jensi knew nothing about their world—he would need something that could protect him. From the world, from the magic he was unaware of, from the Council… possibly even from Sophie.

In a split second decision, Biana flicked the top of her wand, and the beautiful red shoes disappeared from Amy’s feet, appearing instead on Jensi’s.

“Whoa,” Jensi exclaimed, looking down at the sparkly heels he now wore. “What are these?!”

“What did you do?!” Sophie shrieked. She stood to her full height, glaring at Biana. Biana met her gaze strongly, refusing to back down. They’d need to have a talk later, but for now, she was standing by her decision. “Give me back those shoes!” she snapped. “That’s my magic, you know! That boy doesn’t even know how to use them!”

Biana said nothing, turning to Jensi instead. “Don’t ever take them off,” she whispered. “The magic in them must be very powerful, or the witch wouldn’t want them so badly.”

The words tasted horrible.

She was making them up entirely, and she hated referring to Sophie as “the witch” instead of her name, but she had to keep this up. It was the way things were, and Sophie knew that well.

“You stay out of this, Biana!” Sophie snapped, but luckily, there was no new betrayal in her eyes. She’d known, of course, that Biana had built her life on the other side. She was Sophie’s opposite as far as the Lost Cities were concerned.

“You have no power here!” Biana exclaimed regally, lying through her teeth. “Now leave before someone drops a house on you as well!”

Sophie knew she was making things up, of course. That was the most terrifying thing about their relationship. If the things people said about them were true, Sophie would be able to kill her in seconds.

If it ever truly came down to Sophie versus Biana, they both knew who would win.

Sophie grit her teeth. “Fine. I’ll bide my time.” She turned to Jensi, and they both knew her anger was misplaced as she bit, “But you would do well to stay out of my way.” After a few brisk steps, she broke into a dramatic run, her cape flowing behind her in the wind until she disappeared in a crack of thunder.

“Okay, that was scary,” Jensi said shakily as Biana stared after her. They’d never had to really interact in public like that before. It was new territory. And… she hated it.

Sophie had to hate it too.

She’s not scary, Biana wanted to say. She wouldn’t hurt you. Not really. She’s just upset, and rightfully so. And hurt. And grieving.

But she didn’t say any of it. She couldn’t say any of it.

“I’m afraid you’ve made a very bad enemy out of the evil witch,” Biana said instead. The words rolled off her tongue easily. She had practice. “The sooner you’ve left the Lost Cities and gotten back to wherever Kansas is, the safer you’ll sleep!”

“Oh, I want nothing more,” Jensi agreed. “But how am I meant to get back to Kansas? I can’t go back how I came…” he glanced over at his house once again.

And the truth was, Biana had absolutely no idea. She’d never even heard of Kansas. She didn’t know where it was. “The only people who may be able to help you with that are the Council of the Lost Cities,” Biana answered, officially making this No Longer Her Problem.

“Okay,” Jensi said slowly, “and how do I find this Council?”

“In Eternalia,” Biana said, gesturing to the glittering paved path leading away from Amy’s estate. “All roads eventually lead to Eternalia. It’s in the center of the Lost Cities.”

“So if I just start walking,” he said uncertainly, “I’ll eventually find… Eternalia?”

“Yes,” Biana confirmed, hoping that was actually true. She’d always taken trains rather than walking, and given the amount of untrue tales regarding Eternalia in the Council, she couldn’t be 100% sure that all roads actually eventually led to Eternalia. But it was the only thing she knew to tell him, other than… “Be sure to keep those shoes on your feet,” she warned once again, gesturing to the sparkly red heels he was still wearing. “If you do not, you will be at the mercy of the evil witch.”

Biana hated how comfortable she’d grown with the lies.

Jensi nodded solemnly, and Biana wished she didn’t have to scare him in that way. But she’d given him the shoes for a reason. He would end up needing some kind of magic, she was sure of it, and there was no way to truly make Jensi understand what to do with them (especially because she didn’t understand the way the magic worked herself), and she felt a responsibility to leave him with as much protection as she possibly good, which was regrettably little.

“Thanks for your advice,” Jensi said somewhat awkwardly, looking over towards the path. “I guess… I should try to go to Eternalia, then.”

“I wish you a safe and quick journey,” Biana said by way of farewell as Jensi hesitantly walked off onto the paved glittering road, soon disappearing around a corner. She waved prettily, keeping her performance smile plastered on her face until he fully disappeared. As soon as he was gone, she scanned her surroundings, wondering if anyone else was still around, waiting to meet their new and mysterious hero.

She was alone.

She dropped the smile.

“That’s right,” she said, mostly to herself now that Jensi was gone, “you just take that one road, that whole time. Oh, I really hope he doesn’t get lost,” she muttered to herself as she walked closer to the house that had fallen on top of Amy Foster. “I am so bad at giving directions…”

She knelt beside what was left of Amy, letting out a defeated sigh. She had to admit that the people had their reasons for celebrating her death. She had been a feared figure on purpose, both because of her own cultivation of this image and the Council adding to it as often as possible. The fact that her sister was theoretically the most evil witch in the Lost Cities certainly added an aspect of terror.

Biana kept the respect of people by being loved. Amy kept their respect by being feared.

Sophie never had their respect at all.

And now Amy was gone, and Biana understood the celebration, she really did, but she couldn’t feel happy. She’d never been close with Amy, but she’d cared about her. She’d cared about Sophie, and Sophie cared about her.

“Oh, Amy,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I wish things didn’t have to be this way.”

“Oh, what a touching display of grief!” a familiar voice snapped behind her.

Biana leapt to her feet immediately, reeling around. “I don’t believe you and I have anything further to say to one another!” It wasn’t true, of course. There was plenty to say, but nothing she wanted to say. She was angry, she was hurt… and in some ways, she was ashamed.

She’d purposefully told Jensi that Sophie was the epitome of all evil. And why? For her own image, which Jensi knew nothing about? For her own self-righteous anger with her friend, for running away with her fiance? Did she even have a right to be upset about that now that Sophie had lost the most important person in the world to her, possibly because of Biana’s own fault?

Of course I have that right, Biana reminded herself. What they did was wrong, no matter what. And it had to have been a coincidence. The Council didn’t cause the tornado. They didn’t.

“Those shoes were the last thing left of my sister!” Sophie shouted, her voice wobbling slightly on the last word. “And now that ridiculous farm boy has walked off with them!”

“That isn’t his fault!” Biana reminded her. “I gave them to him, Sophie. Don’t be upset with him. Don’t make a teenager into your enemy. He just wants to go home to wherever Kansas is. This is between you and me.”

“Oh, it is,” Sophie agreed. “And I would certainly appreciate some time alone to say goodbye to my sister!”

Biana pursed her lips, meeting Sophie’s fiery gaze. Then she nodded mutely, stepping aside respectfully. “Of course,” she whispered, continuing to back away.

Seeming somewhat surprised that Biana had agreed so easily, Sophie deflated, sinking to her knees beside what was left of her sister. “Amy, I am so sorry.” Her voice was thick and shaky, and it was clear to Biana that she was crying. “Please, please forgive me.”

What was Sophie apologizing for? No, Biana couldn’t let Sophie blame herself for this, not when she was already clearly falling apart. “Sophie, no,” Biana exclaimed, rushing to her friend’s side. “You must not blame yourself! It’s dreadful, it really is, to have a house fall on you… but accidents do happen!”

Biana cringed as she said the words, hoping Sophie wouldn’t notice, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing for Biana to give away. Sophie slowly turned her head so their gazes could meet. Sophie’s eyes were intense and her voice was low and accusatory as she said, “You call this an accident?!”

“Well…” Biana hesitated, her word getting caught in her throat, stopped up by guilt regarding her possible involvement. “Maybe not… an accident…”

“Then what would you call it?”

“A… power shift?” Biana didn’t know who would eventually take Amy’s role. “Caused by a bizarre and unexpected twister of fate,” she emphasized, trying for a smile. She hoped her pun would cheer Sophie up just slightly.

It didn’t work.

Sophie stood, striding towards her. Biana backed up steadily. She wasn’t afraid of Sophie, but she was nervous about the accusation in her tone—even more nervous that it might be true. “So you think cyclones just happen, out of the blue?”

“Well—no, I never—”

“No, of course you never, you’re too busy telling everyone how wonderful everything is—”

“Well, I am a public figure now! People expect me to—”

“Lie?!”

“Be encouraging!” Biana insisted. Were those encouragements lies? Well, did it really matter? “What exactly have you been doing, anyway? Besides teleporting around, frightening people wherever you appear—”

“Well, we can’t all travel by magic bubble.” Sophie crossed her arms, seeming unimpressed. “Whose invention was that, anyway? The Council’s? Even if it wasn’t, I’m sure they’d be tripping over themselves to take credit for it—”

“Actually, it was mine,” Biana snapped. “And the Council isn’t the only one taking things that don’t belong to them, are they?”

It was a low blow, but in Biana’s personal opinion, it was deserved. She watched Sophie turn the words over in her brain, knowing the exact moment she registered what Biana meant. “Now hang on one second,” Sophie said quietly, closing her eyes to calm herself as venom dripped from her words. “I know it may be difficult for someone like you to understand how someone like him could actually choose to be with someone like me. But it happened, Biana, and it’s real. And no matter how much you wave around that ridiculous wand of yours”—she gestured to Biana’s large wand, which she gripped tighter—“you can’t change it! He never belonged to you.” Sophie began to take long strides towards Biana, who stood her ground. “He doesn’t love you. He never did! He loves me!”

Sophie had barely finished the last word before Biana slapped her, instinctively, like they were two young girls having a catfight on the playground. It was cathartic for a moment, but as soon as Sophie recovered from the shock, she cackled, sounding every bit the maniac she’d been painted as by the press. “Oh, do you feel better?”

“Yes,” Biana said with a satisfied smile, “I do.”

“Good.” Sophie slapped her back, the exact same motion Biana used, and suddenly Biana understood why Sophie laughed. It was ridiculous. They were two of the most powerful witches in the Lost Cities. What were they doing?! “So do I!”

Fine, then. They would do this.

In the most petty fight of all petty fights, Sophie and Biana charged at each other in a rather pathetic manner for two experienced sorceresses, grabbing onto each others’ hands and shoving like they were little children. There was something cathartic about the tension exploding in this way. She didn’t have to perform or act like some mature, all-knowing Good Witch, she could just… Sophie hit me! Now I’m going to shove her!

Honestly? It felt really good.

She didn’t want to be smart right now. She was just mad.

“HALT IN THE NAME OF THE COUNCIL!” a palace guard shouted. Seven of them ran to the scene, and Biana’s heart suddenly dropped.

It couldn’t mean what she thought it meant.

“Stop! Let me go!” Sophie shouted as the guards seized her. She could curse them, of course, and escape easily, but she didn’t. She was the same girl Biana had always known, even now.

“Let her go, I almost had her,” Biana complained.

“Sorry it took us so long to get here, Miss,” said one of the guards holding Sophie back. Suddenly, Biana didn’t care about fighting Sophie anymore.

This was proof that this had been the plan.

This was the trap to capture Sophie, using harm to her sister as bait. A trap Biana had helped them plan…

Biana watched the blood drain from Sophie’s face, her fury being replaced with cold, utter betrayal. “I can’t believe it,” she spat. “I can’t believe that you would sink so low, using my sister’s death as a trap to capture me!”

“No!” Biana insisted. “I never meant for this to happen! You have to believe me!”

A loud shout sounded from above their heads, and everyone turned to look as a rope swang in from one of the trees. “Let her go,” Keefe said with so much swagger Biana had to fight not to roll her eyes at her—at Keefe’s antics.

Sophie blinked. “Keefe, what the hell?”

“I said let her go!” Keefe insisted, more seriously this time, pointing his rifle in the direction of the guards. “Or… explain to the Lost Cities how the Council’s guards stood and watched as their beloved Good Witch was slain!” Keefe turned and stood, pointing his gun square at Biana’s chest.

Biana raised her hands immediately, gasping. “Keefe…”

“I said let her go!” Keefe shouted again, and this time, the guards listened, forever concerned with her safety.

But Keefe wasn’t, apparently.

It was funny, really, how all the wrong people were loyal to her. But perhaps that was the natural consequence of being loyal to the wrong people.

Sophie stumbled away from the guards, brushing off her now-free arms. Once again, Biana was reminded by the power held in those hands. Once again, Biana remembered that Sophie was consciously choosing not to kill every one of those guards, all at once.

The Council was so lucky it was a girl as pure of heart as Sophie that they had chosen to make into their enemy.

A girl as pure of heart as Sophie didn’t deserve to be made into the Council’s enemy. And every day, Biana worried that she would snap and give in, becoming exactly what everyone in the Lost Cities was afraid of…

“Run, Sophie,” Keefe hissed.

“No,” Sophie refused. “Not without you.”

“Go! Now!”

Biana hesitated, her arms still in the air as she stared at Keefe and the rifle he was pointing in her direction. “Do it,” she whispered to Sophie, not even worried about what the guards might think.

After a moment’s hesitation, Sophie bolted away, her cape billowing behind her. Soon, she would teleport away, and neither Biana or Keefe would have to worry about her.

She was safe.

What about them?

Keefe still had his gun trained on Biana, the only leverage he had keeping the guards from seizing him. If he dropped it, he’d be arrested and interrogated as a traitor. If he fired, he’d kill her.

He didn’t want to kill her. Biana may have had no clue how to handle empathy magic, but she knew, in her heart, that Keefe had no desire to see her die.

He wouldn’t fire.

Biana slowly put her hands down, taking a few steps towards Keefe. He didn’t waver, but his face was twisted into a grim expression. Once Biana was close enough to him that she could feel the weapon against her chest, his hand began to shake.

The guards stood behind him, poised to handle whatever came next.

Keefe dropped his weapon, deflating as he allowed the guards to seize him. “What? No!” Biana shrieked as they roughly began to drag him away.

“He is a traitor!”

“No, no, no, stop! In the name of goodness stop!” Biana shouted regally, infusing her performance voice into her desperation. For a moment, the guards halted, and Biana knelt beside Keefe, who wasn’t resisting. “Don’t you see?” she pleaded. “He was never going to harm me.” He met her eyes, and the very small amount of regret she saw there was a confirmation. For a moment, understanding seemed to pass between them.

Suddenly, Biana didn’t have it in herself to feel betrayed. Not after everything she’d done. Everything all three of them had done.

This was too complicated to be fixed by a slap to the face or a tense argument. There was too much harm. There was too much wrong and too much right on all sides.

“He just… loves her,” Biana finished, willing her voice to stay steady. Her performance cracked for just a moment, her voice breaking slightly on the last two words. Keefe’s eyes shone with a sudden sadness at her acceptance.

“I’m so sorry,” Keefe whispered. The guards began to drag him away as soon as he spoke. Why wouldn’t he put up a fight?!

“Take him up to that field there!” one of them shouted. “Put him on one of those poles until he tells us where the witch went!”

“No!” Biana screamed. “Don’t! Don’t! Please don’t hurt him! ” They weren’t listening to her anymore, though, too eager to punish their traitorous captain.

Biana sank to the ground, her ball gown bunching around her, and wept.

—

“No, no, no, no,” Sophie whispered to herself, flipping through her spellbook as quickly as possible. Maybe she was being careless, but she had to stop this. She had to. She’d hidden in the nearby bushes long enough to see them take Keefe out to the corn field, and she knew they would torture him until he told them where she went.

Just like she knew he’d never tell them.

“Come on,” she hissed, frustrated with the ancient language. Why was it that the most powerful spells were always ultra-specific in ways that made it impossible to achieve her true goal? She wished desperately that her own magic was powerful enough to save a life, to make Keefe impervious to harm as he withstood the torture, but it wasn’t, and she knew that. At least, she didn’t know how to do such a thing, and time was of the essence.

“Let nothing bruise him, cut him, or draw any blood,” Sophie murmured as she searched for a spell anxiously, “no matter what they try, no matter what they do…” She let her words guide her to the spell that had to be right.

If this couldn’t save him, nothing could.

So she began to chant under her breath.

She chanted about him meeting no harm, never getting hurt, never feeling pain, never dying… she chanted in the ancient language, never taking a breath until her lungs were burning, and the magic tingled under her skin, but how would she even know if it worked, anyway?

What had she even done to Dex? She’d tried to save his life, she had saved his life, and yet, she still remembered Amy’s chilling words: It wasn’t me, Dex! I didn’t do it, I tried to stop her, it was Sophie…

She wasn’t sure she would ever understand why. 

So what was she even doing to Keefe right now? Who knew if it would work? This stupid ancient magic never did what she thought it was going to do. It never did what it was supposed to do.

Keefe could already be hurt, bleeding, dead, and the guards who tortured him wouldn’t even care, and the Council wouldn’t care, and of course Biana would care but she wouldn’t do anything about it because she was a coward. Maybe she’d cry prettily and pretend it was because her fiance was a traitor. In fact, that was exactly what she would do.

Sophie slammed the book shut and tossed it to the ground.

Sophie glanced around at the walls. They were rather dark, and the place was not well looked after. It was no surprise that Keefe’s family had chosen to live at their other castle. But right now, it was exactly what she needed. Crystals were just another reminder of how the Lost Cities managed to keep up a glittering appearance while it rotted underneath.

She’d never done anything for the Lost Cities but try to save them. She placed a spell on a group of gnomes by accident and put her own life on the line to let them go. She saw the injustice of the Council and did everything in her power to right it. She saw the lies the Council allowed the people to believe and tried to expose them.

And what did she get in return?

People spoke about the horrible day she cursed the gnomes. They saw every action as an attack. They called her the liar.

Every attempt at good was twisted into something evil. Every bad thing was blamed on her. She had never set a single fire in Eternalia, and yet, every single attack was attributed to her.

And how could they be surprised?

How could they make enemies out of pyrokinetics and act surprised when their cities began to burn?

And what did she gain from denying such rumors when every word she said was taken as a lie? When every attempt at good was seen as an act of evil?

Nothing.

What was the point?

She couldn’t save Keefe from the castle guards. She couldn’t save the Lost Cities from their Council. She couldn’t save Biana from herself. She couldn’t make anyone see past the lies they wanted to believe.

She couldn’t save Keefe.

And she was so, so tired of trying to be everyone’s savior, when this was what she received in place of thanks.

She knew she looked the perfect picture of the evil witch everyone made her out to be as she marched through the halls of the castle, but she didn’t care. She knew her plan was reckless as she threw open the doors to the run-down balcony and dove off the edge, but she didn’t care. And when she tumbled out of the void and into the palace in Eternalia, she didn’t care if anyone saw her.

She was done with caring.

Let them see.

They would blame it on her, anyway.

They wanted her to burn down their capital? Fine. She would.

She took one moment to admire the contained balefire that lit the hall. The result of Fintan’s brilliant magic, which the Council had once praised. Once needed.

Still needed, clearly.

With just a few memorized words muttered under her breath, the sound of shattering glass echoed throughout the hall, continuing throughout the ground floor of the palace. She extended her power as far as it could possibly reach, and within minutes, the entire place was enveloped in flames.

—March of the Witch Hunters—

Keefe blinked slowly, registering that he wasn’t as sore or dead as he should be.

He hadn’t said a word about the castle. He hadn’t given the guards the slightest hint where Sophie had gone. Not once did he even consider the idea. Expectedly, the guards certainly hadn’t liked that, which they made… very clear.

And here he was, still on a pole in a cornfield, no longer being tortured to the point of death. In fact, he didn’t feel any pain at all. Had he simply gone numb? It wasn’t even painful to be attached to the pole like he was. He felt limp and physically numb. Interesting. Was this a normal side effect of torture? Did the palace guards believe him to be dead?

He looked down at himself, wondering if he could inspect his own wounds, and startled. His clothing had somehow changed into something more patched and ripped, and his hands…

…his hands were made of straw.

What.

“Just keep walking,” a young voice muttered, “and eventually you’ll find this Eternalia place. Of course, because that makes total sense! Just keep… walking…”

Keefe looked back up to see a dark-haired teenage boy standing in front of him, looking suddenly distraught. He gazed out into the cornfield for a minute, before looking to his left, and then to his right. “Great. I have to turn. How am I supposed to know which way to go?”

Talking to oneself was usually not a good sign, but considering that everything about this boy, from his hairstyle to his clothing, indicated some unfamiliar culture, Keefe decided to go with it. The only thing that looked even remotely like something from the Lost Cities was his… shoes…

…Amy Foster’s shoes.

Made with Sophie’s magic.

Oh, this boy had made an enormous mistake somewhere along the way.

While the boy was looking off into one direction, Keefe pointed the other way. “Pardon me! That way is a very nice way,” he said brightly.

The boy blinked, startled. “Who said that?!”

This was rather fun. As he looked around, Keefe changed to pointing the other way. “It’s pleasant down this way too!” The boy startled again, his eyes landing on Keefe for a moment, and he wondered if his smirk was giving him away.

“I swear he was pointing the other way,” he muttered.

“Of course,” Keefe continued as soon as his eyes averted, “some people do go both ways.” When the boy looked back at him, he was pointing in both directions.

He fought back his laughter. He’d certainly missed messing with people. The last few years had been so… serious.

The boy squinted at him, finally suspicious as he approached him. “You’re the one who spoke, aren’t you? Or am I finally going crazy?”

“Of course not,” Keefe replied.

The boy raised an eyebrow. “Right. Well, I suppose I might be losing my mind, then. Scarecrows aren’t supposed to be able to speak.”

Scarecrows?

Well… that explained the straw…

How had Keefe turned into a scarecrow?

“You aren’t the one losing your mind,” Keefe muttered, mostly to himself, “but I might be.”

“Is it because your head is full of straw?” the boy asked curiously.

Keefe laughed, assuming the boy was making a joke. However, when he met his gaze, he realized the kid was 100% serious. Heaven forbid a prince turned into a scarecrow use a figurative expression. “Uh, yeah. Yes. I have straw instead of a brain.”

“So how can you talk, then? If you haven’t got a brain?”

How could he talk if he was a scarecrow, actually? That was the real question. No, no, no, the real question was why was he a scarecrow?

“I don’t know,” Keefe said flippantly. “Lots of people who talk seem to not have brains, don’t they?” Himself included. In fact, he was basing that exact quote off of an insult Sophie had once used on him.

The boy nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense.”

Wow, this kid’s brain had to be fried. Then again, he had clearly been through something, what with the way he was dressed and the way he was wearing Sophie’s sister’s shoes and clearly had no clue where he was going. “It’s been a long day for you, has it?” Keefe asked.

“Oh, for sure,” he agreed. “Apparently, I killed a witch by accident. My house landed on her. I didn’t mean to!”

…Huh. Perhaps Sophie had been right about the house flying through the sky. You learn something new every day!

“Oh! My name is Jensi, by the way. I just realized I didn’t tell you!” Jensi rushed. “So sorry about that. Like you said, it’s been a long day, and I still haven’t been able to—oh! Oh no!”

“What?” Keefe asked, confused. He followed Jensi’s pointed finger with his eyes, startling when he noticed a crow pecking at his collar. “Hey! Shoo! Get off!” The crow pecked at some of his straw neck before flying away. Keefe rubbed his neck as though it hurt, though he still didn’t seem to be able to feel any pain.

“Aren’t you a scarecrow?” Jensi pointed out. “Isn’t scaring crows your job?”

“Uh… yes, well… I don’t have a lot of practice.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s because, uh… it’s because I don’t have a brain.” He might as well commit at this point.

“Well, back in Kansas, I think a scarecrow being able to talk would be plenty to scare the birds away,” Jensi remarked.

What was a Kansas?

“Is that where you’re from?” Keefe asked curiously, trying to fish out more about where this boy came from. Clearly, a lot had happened that he didn’t know about (his house killed Amy Foster and somehow he ended up wearing her shoes) , but he was clearly from an odd sort of culture Keefe had never heard of.

“Yes! I want to go back there, so I’m going to find the Council so they can send me home!” he said excitedly.

Hm… whoever told this boy the Council could help him was probably well intentioned, but had certainly set him up for disappointment. “The Council of the Lost Cities? Who referred you to them?”

“The good witch, Biana,” Jensi said eagerly. “She was so helpful. She’s the one who gave me the dead witch’s shoes so I can use them as protection against her evil sister!”

Keefe blinked once.

Twice.

Then, “Biana gave you those shoes… as protection against the evil witch… and then told you to go see the Council of the Lost Cities, because they have the power to send you home?”

Jensi nodded.

Keefe had to fight back the urge to laugh. Whether it would be an ironic laugh, or a bitter laugh, or a fully genuine laugh, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t let Jensi know what he knew. He didn’t need to put this poor kid through any more than he’d already been through. “Well, I should probably be going to see this Council too, then, if they’re so powerful. Perhaps they’d be able to give me a brain!” Yep, he was definitely committed to this bit now.

Jensi lit up. “You definitely should! I could use a travel companion more familiar with the roads, anyway. Although…” Jensi hesitated, looking down. “I accidentally made an evil witch pretty mad at me, so maybe you’d be safer if you didn’t.”

Keefe thought back to the magical night in the woods he’d shared with Sophie, their lips moving in harmony until both of them were too dizzy to stand. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“You want to come with me, then?”

“Of course!” Keefe attempted to follow him before realizing his feet were still very much not on the ground. “Uh, do you mind helping me down from this pole, or…”

“Oh! Yes, of course!”

—

Keefe found listening to Jensi’s tales of Kansas quite fascinating, especially since the place seemed to be quite backwards and devoid of all magic. Eventually, though, Jensi’s voice trailed off, and Keefe became aware that there was another voice in the background.

Someone was muttering under their breath. Keefe and Jensi stopped in their tracks, sharing a look. “Who’s there?” Jensi called.

“What?” the voice said louder, addressing them. A face poked out from behind a bush. “Oh! Hello. Don’t mind me. I’m just trying to make my arm cooler.”

Jensi blinked. “Make your arm cooler?” He turned to Keefe. “What does he mean, make his arm cooler?”

Keefe had no idea what he meant by that. But… that was Dex Dizznee.

His face was easily recognizable as the boy who had held a strange beef with Fitz Vacker and been hopelessly in love with Biana. This was the boy who had been kind to Amy and accidentally sold his soul to her for eternity. But when he stood up the rest of the way, it was clear something had happened to him.

One of his arms was entirely made of metal, as well as his opposite leg. His torso was a metal plate with buttons, as though half of him had been turned into machinery. “What happened to you?” Keefe exclaimed, barely keeping himself from calling him by his given name. If he revealed that he knew Dex from University, he’d probably have to explain who he was, and it wasn’t exactly obscure knowledge that Prince Keefe Sencen, formerly Captain of the Guard, had betrayed the Council. It was definitely in his favor right now to remain an anonymous scarecrow.

“I’m trying to make it so my metal arm can punch stronger,” Dex explained. “I’m Dex, by the way. And if you just give me one moment…” Dex began to fiddle with the edge of his arm once again, tightening some of the screws. “There! Finished. You’ll never see anyone punch as hard as I can now. I would demonstrate, but…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m guessing neither one of you wants to be punched?”

“For sure,” Jensi said quickly. “So are you some kind of cyborg?”

Dex sighed. “Yeah, I guess. I wasn’t always, though.”

Yeah, that was for sure. “What happened, then?” Keefe asked, attempting to sound casual. Did this have something to do with whatever had turned him into a scarecrow?

“The evil witch did it, you see,” Dex said, his gaze darkening. “She turned me into this after her sister took my heart away.”

Keefe fought the urge to roll his eyes. He should have expected another evil witch tale. “Oh, well you don’t have to worry about the sister anymore,” Jensi said hesitantly. “I killed her. Well, by accident, that is. I didn’t mean to, but my house crushed her.”

Dex gasped. “Oh, I heard about that!” he said eagerly. “So you’re the new wizard, then?”

Jensi shifted uncomfortably. “Why does everyone seem to think I’m a wizard?”

“Oh, it’s just what I heard.” Dex shrugged. “It’s fine if you don’t practice magic. Safer, even. There’s too many ways magic can go wrong—like with the evil witches.” Dex shuddered, and Keefe had to bite his tongue to keep himself from correcting him. It wasn’t Dex’s fault he believed the Council’s lies, and besides, it was safer to let him continue to think such things. “And the pyrokinetics, of course. There have been so many fires set in Eternalia recently, and everyone knows they were set by the evil witch.” They literally weren’t. “She practices pyrokinesis, you know. They say she started it when she started defending their evil form of sorcery.”

Sophie quite simply did not practice pyrokinesis. Where had that rumor even started?

“She recently set the most terrible fire of all, too,” Dex said, his voice taking on a hushed tone, even though they were the only three people around. “The palace in Eternalia burned almost entirely to the ground!”

“Are we sure that was the witch?” Keefe asked, unable to help himself. Maybe he couldn’t clear Sophie’s name, but he could certainly call this insanity into question.

“She was seen doing it,” Dex confirmed. “They say she teleported to the ground level of the palace in plain sight, and before the guards could seize her, she shattered the glass around the balefire that lit the entire level! I hear she was gone as fast as she arrived, and she looked more furious than anyone had ever seen her.”

“That’s horrible!” Jensi exclaimed.

“I don’t believe everything I hear,” Keefe said skeptically.

“Really? Biana the Good Witch confirmed publicly that she’d seen the witch set the fire, which she’s never done before.”

Keefe’s heart stopped beating.

Biana had told plenty of lies in the name of public image. But she had never once blamed a single attack on her friend, even if she didn’t put a stop to the rumors.

“I’d never seen her so shaken,” Dex continued. “Like she’d seen a ghost. I think the scariest part was how much power she showed shattering all the glass on the floor, and the fact that even though she was in plain sight, it was impossible for the guards to catch her. Before, we thought it was only a matter of getting her to come out of hiding, but now…” Dex shuttered. “Now it’s clear she can’t be stopped unless she wants to be.”

That was the other thing. The way Sophie had never let loose her full true power, not wanting to cause any true death or destruction. She hadn’t always succeeded, but she’d never done anything without the purest intentions. That was why people didn’t realize that if the tales about her were true, their lives would be long over.

But now Dex was saying it exactly the way it was.

Sophie could not be stopped. Not by anyone but herself.

And Biana confirmed it. And she looked shaken in public…

Sophie, what have you done?

“That’s terrifying,” Jensi breathed. “I sure hope I’m able to get home soon.”

“Is that where you’re headed?” Dex inquired. “Your home?”

“Hopefully. I’m from Kansas, but no one around here seems to know where that is.”

“I don’t,” Dex admitted. “How do you plan to get back?”

“Well, Biana told me if I went to Eternalia, the Council would be able to help me get home!” Jensi said, repeating what Biana was fully aware was utter nonsense.

Dex lit up. “You’re going to appeal to the Council for help? Is there any chance I could accompany you? If anyone can reverse what those horrible witches did to me, it’s them.”

“Of course!” Jensi agreed readily. “This scarecrow here is coming, too, because he needs someone to give him a brain.”

Keefe nodded vigorously. “Yep. I really need that brain, and the sorcerers on the Council are the only people powerful enough to give me one.” Maybe he needed to be easier on Biana for all the ridiculousness that came out of her mouth on a daily basis. He certainly wasn’t doing much better now.

“Luckily, I still have my brain, but I don’t have a heart any longer.” Dex tapped softly on his metal chest. “The evil witch’s sister stole my heart out of jealousy, because I revealed my love for Biana. Then, because she was not satisfied with the cruelty of such an act, the evil witch herself turned me into this. I’m lucky I’m good with machines, in any case—at least now I can do cool things like program my arm to punch harder.”

So… Amy took his heart away, which objectively should have made him die, and then Sophie turned part of him into a machine, allowing him to survive without one.

It kind of sounded like Sophie saved his life.

Keefe was still reeling, though, from the revelation that she may have truly burned the palace in Eternalia to the ground…

That wouldn’t be productive to say, however. “Well, we should probably continue our journey to Eternalia, shouldn’t we?” Keefe said instead, hoping emotions didn’t show very well on scarecrow faces.

This time, instead of Jensi’s odd tales of Kansas, Keefe had the pleasure of listening to Dex relate the worst of the rumors regarding the love of his life, and had never wished more for this trip to finally be over.

—

“They each had a request, naturally,” Magnate Leto relayed to Biana. “Dex Dizznee, who has been magically transformed into part-machine, wished for his heart to be restored.”

“Dex?” Biana gasped. “I believe I may know him!”

“A scarecrow asked for a brain, and the boy, Jensi, asked for a way to return home to Kansas.”

Yes, Biana remembered him. She’d sent him to the Council because Kansas-related problems seemed a bit above her paygrade.

“Of course, we have no idea where Kansas is, and neither does the Council,” Magnate Leto said quickly. “Returning Mr. Dizznee’s heart would be to reverse a spell cast from the ancient texts, which is impossible, and no one even knows how this scarecrow came to be, or why he seems so convinced that he has no brain.”

“So the Council can’t help,” Biana said in plainer terms. She’d known this already, of course, but she was now at a loss for how to help this odd group. Jensi, especially, deserved to be sent home to wherever Kansas was…

“Of course. But they couldn’t say that, naturally, so the Council has sent them to fulfill an important but unfortunately impossible task,” Magnate Leto said with diplomatic regret.

“What task?”

“One that is cause for the grand and eager sendoff they are receiving from the people of Eternalia,” Magnate Leto said vaguely. “Come.” He gestured for her to follow, and they stepped out onto a small balcony that overlooked a courtyard. It wasn’t as large or grand as the one by the palace had been, but it certainly did the job. Across from Biana and Magnate Leto, on the other side of the courtyard, was a larger, higher set balcony. On it stood Dex Dizznee with machinery around his chest, a sentient scarecrow who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, and Jensi, who was fidgeting nervously with his hands.

The crowd was going wild, cheering for whatever task the three of them had been asked to accomplish. “This is more than just a service to the Council!” Dex shouted over the crowd. “I have a personal score to settle with Soph—with the witch!”

Biana’s head turned so quickly to look at Magnate Leto, she was surprised she didn’t snap her neck. “What did you ask them to do?!” she hissed.

“What does it sound like?” Magnate Leto asked calmly.

“She’s the reason I’m now part machine, and her sister the reason I have no heart!” Dex continued, the crowd cheering for him as he continued to shout his testimony. “But for once, my heartlessness will serve me well, as I plan to be nothing but heartless when we kill her!”

“You asked them to kill Sophie?” Biana clarified, her voice low and serious. “That’s not just impossible, it’s a death sentence.”

“You don’t truly believe your friend would kill them, do you?” Magnate Leto asked with feigned surprise.

Of course she wouldn’t, Biana wanted to say, but she didn’t know.

She’d been there to see Sophie teleport into the palace and burn it to the ground.

She didn’t know how far Sophie was willing to go. Not anymore.

Not since her sister’s death, and… Keefe…

Biana couldn’t think about Keefe right now. She couldn’t. He could still be alive, and she didn’t know, and she wasn’t going to think about it because she didn’t need to. Not yet.

Dex turned to the scarecrow expectantly, who scratched the back of his straw neck when he realized the crowd was waiting for him to speak. “Uh… down with the evil witch!” he shouted without much energy. The crowd supplied the energy he lacked, cheering and crying out their own hatred for the “evil witch.”

“Kill the witch!” someone in the crowd hollered. Soon, it had turned into a chant. “Kill the witch! Kill the witch! Kill the witch!”

Poor Jensi looked so anxious, Biana wondered if he might melt to the ground any second.

“This has gone too far,” Biana breathed.

“Sophie can take care of herself,” Magnate Leto said, unconcerned.

Sophie wasn’t the one she was worried about. But… now was as good a time as ever to voice her other concern. It was the only time in her life she hadn’t gone with whatever they’d said, and she was going to make the most of it. “Magnate… something’s been troubling me about Amy, and the cyclone that killed her.”

“Truly a tragedy,” Magnate Leto said agreeably.

“Truly,” Biana said skeptically, “but I can’t help but wonder why it happened.”

“Perhaps it was just her time.”

“Was it?” Biana ventured. “Or did you…”

Magnate Leto suddenly turned to face her, his politically controlled shows of emotion giving way to a truly darkened gaze. “Now you listen to me, Miss Vacker. You may have fooled the rest of the Lost Cities with your little ‘aren’t I good?’ routine, but we both know better than that. This is what you’ve wanted from the very beginning, and now you’re getting what you wanted.”

Biana stepped back, as though she’d been burned.

She tried to deny it, but no truthful words would come to her—and she was sick of telling lies.

“So your job now is to smile and wave and shut up.” Magnate Leto spun on his heel and walked back through the curtains, leaving Biana alone on the balcony, listening to the crowd cheer and chant about how much they wanted her truest friend dead.

—For Good—

“Thank you, Tali,” Sophie said as warmly as she could manage. “I never imagined that you would choose to use your powers this way. I wish I could reverse the spell.”

“We understand that you can’t,” Tali replied, “and the rest of us agree. If we must do something with this curse, we would rather help you expose the Council’s lies than contribute to their tyranny.”

Sophie brought the gnome into a quick hug, turning to do the same with Bryn. “They’re the only ones coming, correct?”

“Just the scarecrow and the machine man. They say they don’t have a brain and a heart, respectively,” Bryn reported.

“No heart?” Sophie checked. Her mind immediately flashed to Amy’s accidental spell on Dex, and the way Sophie had saved him by making it so he would no longer need one… “The machine portion of this man… it doesn’t happen to be around his chest, does it?”

“It is,” Tali confirmed, “as well as one of his arms and one of his legs.”

It could be a coincidence, but for some reason, it felt like a solved mystery.

“Thank you for bringing in the boy,” Sophie said, unable to make it sound as kind as she meant it. Every feeling she associated with that farm boy was bitter.

“Of course. We hope he gives you what you need,” Bryn said genuinely. She and Tali left the room as Sophie began to pace.

“What I deserve,” Sophie corrected under her breath. She didn’t need the shoes. She was plenty powerful without the reminder of her old magic, but those shoes belonged to her sister.

They were a gift from their parents. They were infused with Sophie’s magic. Amy had worn them, and eventually, they had allowed her to walk. They were a reminder of her family.

This boy had no right to them.

“What kind of well-brought-up boy takes a dead woman’s shoes?” Sophie hissed under her breath as she paced. “Must have been raised in a barn.” She knew he was panicking, and she’d heard him crying, and it wasn’t that she didn’t care, but… it didn’t matter to her.

She didn’t have room in her heart for it to matter to her. Not right now.

Besides, he looked like he was only a few years younger than she was. Surely he could figure out how to handle one little night in a slightly scary castle.

“They’re coming for you,” a familiarly light voice said behind her. Sophie spun around immediately, greeted with the sight of Biana, uncharacteristically serious, standing at the top of the winding stairs.

“Go away!” Sophie snapped as Biana lifted her gown to descend the stairs.

“Let that poor boy go! He did nothing to you!”

“He stole my sister’s shoes!”

“I stole your sister’s shoes! He has done nothing wrong. And neither had most of the people in that palace, by the way!” Sophie froze. “Yeah, I was there for that. The Council made it out alive. So did Magnate Leto. So did I. But not everyone did.”

Sophie didn’t respond.

“Your enemies aren’t the ones who suffered that day, Sophie.”

“I don’t care.” Did it matter if it was a lie? When she was talking to Biana Vacker, the queen of lies herself?

“I don’t believe you,” she insisted. “I know you, Sophie.”

“Do you?”

“Yes! And I know you don’t want to hear this, but someone has got to say it: you are out of control! It is a pair of shoes. I’m sorry I gave them to him. Let it go. You can’t go on like this!”

“I can do whatever I want!” Sophie snapped. “I’m the evil witch, remember? Who’s going to stop me?”

“Yourself!”

“Clearly not!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Then open your eyes!”

“Excuse me?” Tali’s small voice sounded, indicating she’d re-entered the room. “I don’t mean to interrupt whatever is going on here—”

“No, feel free,” Sophie said, glaring at Biana. “My friend here was just leaving.” It was strange, of course, how no matter what happened, both of them always managed to refer to the other as their friend.

Maybe Sophie just didn’t know what friendship was supposed to be like, and saying she had no friends felt more depressing than saying she had one. Even if that one was spreading lies about her in the name of staying popular, trying to convince her to drop the only plan that was keeping her sane while everything was crumbling down around her…

“You have a letter,” Tali continued, handing an envelope to her hesitantly. “You don’t have to read it now, but…”

Sophie tore it open immediately, looking for any possible way to avoid continuing her conversation with Biana. “I can read it now. For convenience. Thank you, Tali.”

Tali turned to exit with a nod of acknowledgement as Sophie’s eyes scanned the words. Who would know to send her a letter here, anyway? Who would have the address of this palace?

No one knew where she was except…

Dear Sophie,

I hope this letter finds you no longer holding a kid hostage. If not, Sophie, please let the poor guy go. I know you’re mad, and I understand, and I know your sister just died and he’s wearing her shoes, but also, NO, okay?

I’m alive. Sort of. Maybe? I’m sentient. Somehow, inexplicably, I have turned into a scarecrow. You don’t happen to have an explanation for that, do you?

Dex swears Amy took his heart away and then you turned part of him into machinery. I can’t be sure how much of it is true, but it sounds to me like you saved his life. Do tell me that story, though—I’m a bit confused by it.

I’m getting sidetracked. My point is, this place is horrible for you—what you did recently in Eternalia proves that. I think you need to get out of here. And well, I can’t be Keefe Sencen anymore, so it’s not like there’s anything left for me either. I guess what I’m saying is I think we should run away. What is there here for us that doesn’t make everything feel awful?

Dex and I are on our way to rescue Jensi and complete the task he was given, which is to kill you. There are trap doors and hidden rooms all over that castle, so it shouldn’t be difficult to fake your death. As for the matter of there being a body, well, there’s this rather convenient rumor going around that water can melt you. I’m sure you see where I’m going with that.

No one can ever know we’re alive, Sophie. No one. That includes Biana, no matter how painful it may be.

I know it’s a big change. In some ways, it might seem reckless. But that’s what I’m known for, right? My parents always used to say they worried I’d run away one day, and I do love disappointing them. Being a traitor to the Lost Cities is my final, grand act of rebellion, and running away will just be the finishing touch.

I love you, Sophie. And I know you. So I can say with confidence: you can’t go on the way you are now. Either you’ll regret it, or you’ll become someone you aren’t. I don’t want to lose the girl I love.

Always and forever yours,

Keefe

(As long as you’re mine.)

Sophie felt nearly dizzy as she read the letter over and over again, absorbing the words and their implications. Keefe wanted her to fake her death and run away with him. Keefe was… a scarecrow.

The scarecrow. The one who was traveling with this kleptomaniac boy.

“They’re coming for you,” Biana had said. “They” meaning… Dex and Keefe?

Dex Dizznee, indoctrinated as the rest of the Lost Cities with the lies of the Council, who she could have been friends with in another life?

Keefe Sencen, the boy she’d once scoffed at in University, now the love of her life…

Sophie pressed her lips into a thin line. Of course. She really should have read the spell more closely. Now, naturally, no harm would come to him, he would not feel pain, and he certainly wouldn’t die. She’d succeeded in her goal in the literal sense, she supposed.

“What is it?” Biana finally asked quietly, reminding Sophie that she was still in the room. “It’s Keefe, isn’t it? This is his family’s castle. Is he…” she trailed off.

“We’ve… seen his face for the last time,” Sophie said somberly, glancing back down at the part of the letter that was perhaps the hardest to digest, despite its truth. No one can ever know we’re alive, Sophie. No one. That includes Biana, no matter how painful it may be.

Biana stifled a sob behind her, and Sophie found herself blinking back tears. She’d already lost Keefe today, and now she was about to lose Sophie. Sophie had been there mere hours ago.

She was counting on her friend to be better than her.

“It’s over,” Sophie whispered, folding the letter back up and tucking it carefully into its envelope. “I surrender.”

“What?” Biana shook her head as if to clear it. “Sophie, what is it?”

This was sure to be whiplash for Biana, but Sophie needed to start planning to leave as soon as possible. She would need to be above a trap door when they attempted to kill her, and she couldn’t just leave the ancient spellbook laying around where just anyone could find it…. There would need to be a bucket of water nearby, too, so they would test the rumors (and, if all went smoothly, believe them to be true).

“You can’t be found here,” Sophie said, turning back to her friend. “You need to get out of here before they arrive!”

“No!” Biana said, though neither of them were quite sure why.

“You have to go.”

“No, I have to tell the truth!” Biana began to back towards the stairs she’d entered from. “I’ll go back to Etenarlia! I’ll tell everyone everything!”

“No! They’ll just turn against you!”

“I don’t care anymore!”

“Well I do.” Sophie placed her hands gently on Biana’s shoulders, encouraging her to look her in the eye. “Promise me you won’t try to clear my name.”

“But—”

“Promise.”

“Alright, alright, I promise!” Biana surrendered. “But… I don’t understand.”

It was ironic, really, that now that Biana had decided for the first time that she didn’t care what anyone thought of her, it was Sophie who insisted she keep up her image. “You were right about one thing, Biana. The moment I jumped off that palace in Eternalia, I ruined any chance of making anyone believe me. You’re the one people listen to. It’s one of the things you’re best at.” Sophie’s lips curled into a smile, and Biana giggled softly, a reminder of the dynamic they’d once had.

Biana’s smile faded quickly. “I only have that because I lie. And what do I accomplish, then?”

“You have their respect,” Sophie answered. “They listen to you. If you start defending me, they’ll say I bewitched you. All of my efforts are tainted by years of slander. But your name is a blank slate—even better than that, it’s a decorated slate. If anyone can show the people of the Lost Cities the ugliness behind their crystal palaces, it’s you.”

“You really think so?”

“Just do a better job than me,” Sophie said, cracking a smile. “Here.” In a split second decision, she reached for the spellbook she’d taken from the Council that one fateful day in Eternalia. “I want you to have this.” She held it out in front of her, her arms completely straight, as though the book could hurt her if she held it too close. And maybe that was what she was afraid of. Maybe that was why she gave the book up now, after it had never done what she’d truly asked, always causing more harm than good. Even now, the shoes that allowed Amy to walk for the last few days of her life had driven her half-crazy now that they were on the feet of the foreign farm boy.

“Oh, Sophie,” Biana said, tears welling up in her eyes as she accepted the book. For a moment, Sophie thought she might thank her, and it could be a tender moment. But then Biana turned away dramatically and cried, “You know I can’t read this!”

Sophie laughed. There was something easy about falling into their old dynamics, playing the parts that were once theirs. If it weren’t for the context, perhaps they could pretend the last few years hadn’t even happened. “Then you’ll just have to learn. It’s up to you, now, Biana—for the both of us.”

Biana opened up the book tentatively, trailing her hand over one of the foreign pages before closing it, seeming lost in thought.

“You’re the only friend I’ve ever had,” Sophie added.

“And I’ve had so many friends,” Biana replied facetiously, giggling in a way that sounded like it wanted to be a sob. Sophie cracked a smile at her personality once again peeking through the clouds above their heads. “But…” Biana’s smile faded once again to something more serious, “only one that really mattered.”

Biana reached up to wipe the lingering tears out of her eyes, looking down for a moment at the ancient book in her hands. Then she looked up at Sophie, and even in her regal gown, her hair done beautifully and everything about her looking the part of a princess, the uncertainty in her eyes shone above all as she hesitantly said, “You know that thing old people always say? The thing about how we’re fated to meet certain people, because those people can teach us how to be better people, and then we can teach them…” she trailed off. “I mean, I don’t believe in fate, but what I’m trying to say is… well, I don’t know if I’m a better person, but I definitely wouldn’t be the same person if I never met you.”

Biana’s eyes shone with an uncharacteristic sincerity, and Sophie found herself saying, “I know I never seemed to listen to you, and in a lot of ways, I don’t regret what I did. But I learned a lot from you, Biana—more than you’ll ever realize. You’re a part of me, now. You always will be.” These might be some of her last words to her closest friend. What did she want them to be? “I don’t know that we made each other into better people. Maybe we did. But either way, I’ll never be the person I would have been if I hadn’t known you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

In a moment’s decision, Sophie threw her arms around Biana, and Biana embraced her back, pulling her as tight as physically possible. “I’m sorry,” Sophie whispered, though she wasn’t sure exactly what it was she was apologizing for. Leaving? Not listening? Blaming her? Her actions regarding Jensi and her sister’s shoes? The fire in the palace at Eternalia? How many of those things did she truly regret? Some of them, certainly. Maybe it was all wrapped up in those two small words.

Biana understood. “Me too,” she breathed, somehow managing to hug her even tighter than before, burying her head in Sophie’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter now, Sophie. Goodness, we were a mess, but it doesn’t seem to matter anymore.”

“We are a mess,” Sophie corrected, and both of them chuckled. “But you’re right. It doesn’t matter.” I’m leaving forever. “It just is.”

“Maybe I am a better person for knowing you,” Biana murmured into her shoulder.

“Me too.”

The echo of the large palace doors slamming shut far below them jarred them out of the moment. “You have to get out of here!” Sophie hissed urgently, and this time, Biana obeyed, lifting her gown as she ran towards the stairs, looking over her shoulder one last time before she disappeared.

—Finale—

From where she was hidden, Biana could barely hear a thing. One thing she was sure of, though: Jensi, Dex and the scarecrow felt like they were winning, and Sophie was putting on one hell of a performance as an evil witch.

What was going on? What about the letter declaring Keefe’s death had made Sophie suddenly choose to surrender, when beforehand she was halfway out of her mind over Amy’s magic shoes?

A moment of stunned celebration preceded the fall of quiet over the palace. The three of them must have left. Perhaps they were celebrating leaving with Jensi alive, not realizing Sophie always intended for them to win. Now, they were gone, and Biana wondered what they would tell the Council. They’d only promised to send Jensi home if they killed Sophie, not just if Jensi managed to survive. What would they do now?

Then again, they didn’t have the power to send Jensi home either way, so it didn’t really matter…

Biana tiptoed back over to the door by the staircase, opening it tentatively. “Sophie?” she called, stepping through the door and scanning the room. Nothing was in its right place, which made sense, she supposed. “Sophie?” Where was her friend? Had she left, for some reason? No, that couldn’t be right. She knew Biana was hiding here, and she would surely want to say goodbye to her one last time. Biana knew she certainly had more to say, more apologies to make, more words she hadn’t had time for.

Her cape was on the ground. Why was her cape on the ground?

Biana lifted the front of her skirt as she jogged down the stairs, surveying the room. The ground was wet, and Biana had to be careful where she stepped, making sure she didn’t slip. There was a bucket of water on its side next to Sophie’s discarded cape. It was mostly empty, though water was still spilling out of it slowly, further soaking Sophie’s already drenched cape.

“Sophie?!” Biana called again, more frantically, kneeling down to take the cape in her hands. Sophie never left it anywhere. She’d never seen her take it off. “This isn’t funny!”

Unwanted flashbacks came to mind, and suddenly Biana felt as though she were back on that balcony, smiling and waving and listening to all of the horrible gossip in the crowd below her.

I hear her soul is so unclean, pure water can kill her!

Water kills her?

Yes, I hear it melts her to the ground.

I believe it.

Seems appropriate for someone as evil as her.

“That’s preposterous,” Biana muttered to herself, trying to laugh, but she couldn’t, because Jensi and his friends had left with a celebration of victory and here there was water and here was Sophie’s cloak and where was Sophie?!

“Sophie!” Biana shouted again, practically screaming it this time, loud enough she should be able to hear her wherever she was, because she had to be nearby. She’d seen her touch water before, right? Right? They’d been roommates. Did she take normal showers? Surely she did, but suddenly, Biana couldn’t remember. She drank water, right? She had never brought a water bottle to class, Biana remembered, but that couldn’t mean she didn’t drink water. How else would she have survived? Elves needed to drink water.

Then again, elves also had blue eyes.

Biana clenched her fists around the fabric of Sophie’s cape. Water squeezed out of it like a sponge, and tears began to fall from her eyes, landing on the dark cloth.

It couldn’t be possible. It was just a random rumor, just like everything else. How would they have known, anyway? Did the Council start the rumor? Did the Council somehow know such things? Perhaps Sophie admitted something about an allergy to water to Magnate Leto back when he’d been her mentor.

“I know. Let’s both tell each other a secret we’ve never told anyone.” Biana still remembered the day she and Sophie had gotten back from her first ever party. She’d been a little bit drunk and was feeling a little bit silly, and she wanted nothing more than to tell Sophie how sure she was that one day she’d marry Keefe. It would have been a perfect time for Sophie to tell her she was allergic to water, if she was, and she’d acted like she didn’t have any real secrets, so she couldn’t be. Unless she’d considered that too much of a weakness to admit to someone she’d hated up until that day…?

Brushing Sophie’s cape off to the side, she saw abandoned on the ground the small black swan necklace her friend had told her about that day. She never took it off.

She never would have left that behind.

Biana picked it up like it was something fragile, something precious, something that should be kept in a museum behind glass and only ever looked upon by those worthy to see it. She slipped it into the hidden pocket in the side of her gown.

As the grief and acceptance settled in, she began to cry.

—

To descend in a magic bubble is to travel in such a way that everyone is able to see your facial expressions and determine how you feel about the place you are traveling to. And so, as a traveler by magic bubble, Biana had to act. She descended on Eternalia by the damaged palace with a smile on her face. Not a single tear stain was visible. No one who laid eyes on her would have guessed that she was overcome with grief.

“Look!” the scarecrow exclaimed to Jensi as she descended. “Maybe she can actually help you!”

Bless the scarecrow for having such confidence in her and such a lack of confidence in the Council. However, she still wasn’t sure how to send the poor guy back to wherever Kansas was.

“Can you?” Jensi asked desperately. “The Council was able to help my friends here, but still doesn’t know how to send me home!”

“Which doesn’t make sense,” Dex muttered. “Aren’t they supposed to be all-powerful?”

Of course he’d realize what a lie that was now, of all times. But it was too late to matter. “How did they help you?” she asked suspiciously. It was true, the Councillors were all witches and wizards of varying caliber, but to restore Dex’s heart would be to reverse a spell from the ancient texts, and there was no way of knowing what was going on with this sentient scarecrow and his lack of brain!

“Well, they gave me a diploma from University of Lumenaria!” the scarecrow exclaimed. His tone was somewhat ironic, though Biana couldn’t figure out why. “This proves that I have a brain in my head.”

Perhaps the irony in his tone was because he could tell that was a preposterous idea.

“And they gave me this heart-shaped watch as a ‘token of affection’ to prove I had a heart!” Dex held out the object in question. “Do you hear it? It ticks! It’s no replacement for the beating of my physical heart, but it’s certainly better than nothing!”

Biana blinked. Dex was an intelligent individual. He really was. Wasn’t he?!

“They couldn’t send me home, though,” Jensi lamented. “Can you help me?”

Think of something to say. Think of something to say. “You don't need to be helped any longer. You've always had the power to go back to Kansas.” Fantastic words, but what was she going to actually do with them?!

“Then why didn’t you tell her before?” the scarecrow exclaimed.

An excellent question, truly. This scarecrow was smarter than he gave himself credit for. “Because he wouldn't have believed me. He had to learn it for himself.” Wow, she was pretty good at this, wasn’t she?

“So the answer is in what I’ve learned?” Jensi checked.

When Biana nodded, Dex asked Jensi, “What have you learned?”

“Well…” Jensi thought for a moment. “Well, I think… that it wasn't enough just to want to see my family again. And it's that if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again I won't look any further than my own backyard. Because if it isn't there I never really lost it to begin with. Is that right?”

Biana didn’t bother herself with deciphering what he was trying to say. “That’s all it is,” she said warmly.

“How easy and simple,” the scarecrow exclaimed, though once again Biana had trouble deciphering the drawl in his tone as he held up his diploma. “I should have thought of it for you!”

“I should have felt it in my heart,” Dex added, holding up his watch.

Biana shook her head. “No, no,” she said lightly, “he had to find it out for himself! Now…” Okay, this was the part where she revealed how whatever nonsense Jensi had learned actually allowed him to go home.

She glanced around. Her eyes landed on her own magic wand for a second, but she knew she didn’t have the power to make it happen. Sophie might have, if she were here, but she… well, she wasn’t.

Biana still had the ancient spellbook she’d given her, though. Her last gift. Perhaps that could help them… but Biana still didn’t know how to read it!

That was when Biana’s eyes landed on the shoes Jensi was wearing.

Maybe she didn’t need to be able to read it. After all, there was a product of ancient magic in their very present, cast by perhaps the most powerful witch of all time. “Now those magic slippers will take you home in two seconds,” Biana said, far more confidently than she felt.

“Now?”

“Whenever you wish.”

“That’s wonderful news!” Jensi said eagerly. “But… I’ll miss all of you terribly!”

“We’ll miss you too, kid,” the scarecrow said, giving him a pat on the back. “Now let’s get you back to Kansas!”

Nope. Goodbyes needed to take a little longer, because Biana was still figuring out how she could possibly use the shoes to send this guy back to Kansas.

But they were all looking at her expectantly now, so she supposed it was time for her to speak more nonsense and hope with every fiber of her being that it miraculously turned out to be true. “Close your eyes…” she said slowly. Nothing could go wrong with asking him to close his eyes, even if it wasn’t necessary. “Tap your heels together…” the magic was in the shoes, so that should work, right?” “...three times!” Three was a good number. It was used quite often in magic. “And think to yourself… there’s no place like home.” If he thought about it really hard, the magic might work, right? Biana wasn’t very good with sorcery. She never had been.

She was counting on Sophie’s magic to see them through this.

“There’s no place like home,” Jensi whispered. He repeated the phrase a few times, and Biana waved her wand as though she had something to do with any of the magic, and miraculously, within a few seconds, he disappeared.

Biana kept a cool and collected demeanor to keep herself from shouting I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT ACTUALLY WORKED.

Dex sighed. “He was a nice kid. I’ll miss him, certainly.”

“I will too,” the scarecrow agreed. He glanced at his wrist, eyes widening. “Oh, the time! I have places I need to be!”

“You aren’t wearing a watch,” Biana pointed out.

“Well with my newfound brain,” the scarecrow exclaimed, holding up his unearned diploma once again, “I can tell the time just by looking at my wrist!” A few moments later, he was gone, leaving Dex and Biana slightly bewildered.

“Yeah, I have no clue what’s up with that guy,” Dex admitted.

“Quite a character,” she said with a shake of her head. “Well, I hope he’s on time to whatever he’s rushing off to. I, unfortunately, have places to be as well.”

“Wait!” Dex exclaimed before she could move to leave. “The day I lost my heart… I was going to head to the ball. I had something I wanted to tell you.”

Biana raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I…” Dex’s cheeks flushed. “Well, now that I have a heart again…” he looked down. “Well, you just lost Keefe, I guess,” he mumbled, “so I should probably wait a little, shouldn’t I?”

Biana’s brain took a second to load.

Then, “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. Even back at university… it’s stupid, I guess.”

“No, no,” Biana reassured him quickly. “It’s not stupid at all. It’s actually… really sweet.” Dex had always been sweet, though Biana had to admit she hadn’t paid much attention to him back at University. If she had, might things have been different? If she hadn’t spent every moment attaching herself to Keefe’s side, could there have been something here? “But… you’re right. About me just losing Keefe, I mean.” And Sophie.

“Yeah.” Dex laughed nervously. “Um… I really like you. A lot. Even just as a person. And it would be great if we talked more often. And in the future, I mean…”

Biana cracked a smile. “In the future,” Biana agreed. “Who knows what will happen then?”

—

Sophie had never been particularly claustrophobic or afraid of the dark, but after being in this tiny, dark space for so long, she was beginning to develop a slight sense of both fears.

She was about to give up on the plan when she heard three strong knocks on the top of the trapdoor. It swung open, and there was Keefe. Or, well… a scarecrow wearing a patched-up version of Keefe’s clothing.

“It worked!” Keefe exclaimed.

He offered her a hand, and when Sophie grasped onto it, she couldn’t help but register how flimsy it felt, made of straw rather than human flesh. She felt a pang of guilt at the reminder that she’d been so reckless with her magic—although, in the end, she had saved him. Hadn’t she?

“I was beginning to think you’d never get here,” Sophie said honestly.

“Fantastic performance,” Keefe said, and the look on his face resembled his old smirk. “Totally believed you were melting away. You really sold it with those shrieked insults in Jensi’s direction.”

“I meant them,” Sophie said bluntly. “You know what they say. The best lies are rooted in truth.”

Keefe chuckled. “As soon as I saw Amy’s shoes on his feet, I knew someone had made a very, very big mistake.”

Sophie sighed. “Biana. It’s not his fault, I guess. But… I don’t want to be mad at Biana right now.” She opened her mouth to continue, but the right words wouldn’t come. She wasn’t sure the right words existed.

“Yeah,” Keefe agreed quietly. He didn’t try to give words to it either. They both understood.

“Are you sure she can’t know?” Sophie asked, though there was no real argument behind it. She knew the answer.

Keefe knew she knew, too, and he didn’t bother answering. “I wish we could tell her too, Sophie. But we have to stay safe. Our lives have to be completely separated from the Lost Cities forever, starting now.”

In some ways, it was terrifying.

In other ways… a huge relief.

“I’m sorry for…” Sophie trailed off, reaching up to touch his straw face.

“So that was you, huh?” Keefe said sardonically.

Sophie’s cheeks heated. “I was trying to save your life.”

Keefe laughed, and there was no resentment to it. “Mission accomplished,” he said wryly. “I’m definitely alive. Probably. I can talk, and I can think, for you see, the all-powerful Council of the Lost Cities has given me a brain!” he declared mockingly.

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I must admit, I’m interested to know how they played that.”

“It’s quite amusing, in my personal opinion.” Keefe reached into one of his pockets, pulling out a rolled up piece of paper. “Behold, a diploma from University of Lumenaria!”

It only took Sophie a moment to realize the irony. “Didn’t you get expelled from the University of Lumenaria?”

“Yep! It wasn’t even for a cool reason, either. Nothing Great Gulon Incident level. Apparently they had a rule about how much class you could miss, which is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Who cares how much class I go to if I pass the tests?” Keefe rolled his eyes. “It was a fine addition to my collection of schools-I-was-kicked-out-of, though. So I suppose I haven’t earned a brain, after all.”

“Well, I fell in love with you without a brain in your head, so that doesn’t bother me,” Sophie quipped.

“You also fell in love with a human,” Keefe pointed out.

Sophie shook her head seriously. As fun as their banter was, it was important to her that he knew she didn’t care about that at all. “You’re still beautiful.”

Keefe gave her a look. “Right. You don’t have to lie to me.”

Sophie remembered saying the exact same words to him, the magical first night they’d spent together in the forest. She remembered his response, too, and surely, with his photographic memory, he was recalling that moment as well. “You are hands down the most handsome boy I have ever seen in my life, and the fact that you don’t know it anymore only makes you more attractive.”

“Well then, I’ll certainly strive not to realize that I make quite an attractive scarecrow, in order to maintain your interest.” His stupid smirk made another appearance.

“I’m starting to remember why I don’t compliment you.”

Keefe chuckled them, and in unison, their heads turned towards the door to the downward staircase. “We’re doing this, aren’t we,” he breathed.

“I’m ready if you are,” Sophie said, turning back to him to check. When he met her gaze, his eyes were blazing with resolve and love. The confident way he placed his hand in hers told her everything she needed to know.

—

Biana was walking briskly through the palace, growing used to the constant burning behind her eyes. She could cry at any moment, but she wouldn’t. Not yet.

“...really don’t understand what you’re so upset about,” Magnate Leto’s voice drifted from a nearby room. Biana paused to listen. “They didn’t suspect a thing. They were quite satisfied with their brains and hearts… Biana even found a way to send that boy home!”

“You know that’s not why I’m upset,” Councillor Oralie bit back, her voice hushed and sharp. Biana had never heard her sound anything but calm, her voice smooth and melodious. She pressed her ear against the door.

“Well then, do spell it out for me, Councillor.”

“You knew.”

“I knew what?”

“That it was her. She had the necklace. Surely you realized.”

“What necklace?” Magnate Leto asked in the collected voice that gave no hint as to what he was thinking. “I fear you’ve lost me.”

“Don’t play dumb. You can’t just pretend the project didn’t happen just because your moonlark didn’t end up serving the Black Swan’s purposes.”

Black Swan.

Biana’s hand moved to gently rest against the pocket that sheltered Sophie’s beloved necklace. The one she never took off.

The one with a black swan pendant.

She had the necklace. Surely you realized.

Magnate Leto laughed without feeling. “Sophie Foster was not the moonlark. That project is as of yet incomplete.”

“Do not lie to me, Leto Kerloff,” Oralie said dangerously. “Give me your hand, look me in the eye, and tell me Sophie Foster was not my daughter.”

Biana’s eyes grew to the size of tea saucers. If she’d been holding something in her hands, she probably would have dropped it.

Daughter.

“Alright then,” Magnate Leto said, presumably offering Oralie his hand. “Project Moonlark is incomplete.”

“You feel… sincere,” Oralie said, sounding frustrated. But Magnate Leto had twisted his wording.

He hadn’t truly told Oralie whether or not Sophie was her daughter.

Biana opened the door, not bothering to keep her face light and pretty as she stepped in. “Ah, Biana, dear,” Magnate Leto acknowledged, brightening. “I would think you’d be out celebrating.”

Why? Why should I celebrate my friend’s death? Biana wanted to snap. But it wouldn’t get her anywhere. Abruptly, she pulled Sophie’s necklace out of her pocket, holding the chain tightly between her two fingers as she let it dangle, allowing them to see the pendant. “This was Sophie’s.”

Magnate Leto paled. “Biana, what does this have to do with—”

“She never took it off. She said it was meant to be a reminder that she could be special in a good way. But I don’t think that’s all there is to it.” Biana looked back and forth between them. “And I think you guys know.”

Oralie’s hand was shaking as she reached out, her palm up. “Can I hold it?” she asked, her voice unsteady, as though she’d just given birth and wanted nothing more than to embrace her child for the first time.

If she’d reached out to take it, Biana would have snatched it away, tucking it back into her pocket. But there was something about her fragile voice and her unassuming outstretched hand that made her relinquish the item. Oralie ran her thumb over the pendant. “It’s the one.” She looked up at Magnate Leto, her eyes hardening. “Then the project isn’t over, then. But Sophie Foster is still my child.”

“Oralie—”

“Was she my daughter?!”

“Yes!” Magnate Leto finally exclaimed, his collected mask disappearing. “But it doesn’t matter now, does it? Next time, we’ll have to ensure she’s raised properly, so she doesn’t get these ideas in her head. Or perhaps we should undo whatever genetic mutation caused her to have brown eyes, so she won’t identify so strongly with outcasts.”

“You’re just going to make another Sophie?!” Biana could feel the disgust dripping off her voice like venom. “What is wrong with you?” She couldn’t think of a more tactful way to say it. She couldn’t believe that Sophie had been… a project.

“I hope you don’t plan on asking me for my DNA again,” Oralie said through gritted teeth, “because I don’t plan on giving it.”

Biana shook her head. “No. Nope. You don’t get to act like you’re in the right here, Councillor. Not after the way the Council has treated and slandered your daughter.”

“I am only one vote out of twelve!”

“Then resign,” Biana said, straightening her shoulders. “Resign from the Council. Leave the life behind. Don’t be complicit in this. In fact…” Biana turned to Magnate Leto. “I want you to leave the Lost Cities. And I want the Council to admit that they are average in power. Oh! And I want every arrested pyrokinetic, Shade, and psionipath to be released. Is that clear?”

“You have no authority beyond what we have given you!” Magnate Leto snapped.

“No.” Oralie shook her head at Magnate Leto. “She does. She’s the one the public sees. She’s the one they love. The Council… we spend so much time locked away in the palace, we’re practically myths easily proven false.”

“And I plan on proving them false,” Biana agreed, nodding her head. “And she’s right, Magnate—you seem to have given me slightly more power than you intended.” A self-satisfied smile settled onto her face, and she tried not to sound too giddy as she asked, “So what’s it going to be?”

—

Later that day, after the exhausting festivities and Biana’s assumption of power, she finally let her mask crumble in the safety of Fitz’s room. She threw herself into her brother’s arms and wept despite the day’s victories, and Fitz embraced her. He didn’t need to ask her any questions—he understood.

———

What is the difference between what is good and what is popular? What is the difference between what is evil and what is disfavoured? It is possible, of course, that there is no difference, and morality is defined entirely by public opinion, but I like to think there’s something beyond society telling us what’s right and wrong. Inside of us, somewhere, there’s an instinct, a conscience formed only by our nature rather than our culture. A broken conscience was at one point whole, and no one is born without one. I can’t prove that this is true, but it’s something I like to believe.

Who was good in this tale? Sophie? Biana? Keefe? Certainly not the Council. Was anyone fully good? Is anyone truly evil?

There is, of course, the partialities of the author to consider. I’ll admit that while I don’t believe any of our protagonists were truly right, I have a certain sense of who was truly wrong. Perhaps my challenge is to find the good intentions in Magnate Leto and the Council; to find their consciences and determine just how broken they truly are. Perhaps they are far less fractured than I have painted them out to be.

But the challenge I hope this tale leaves you with, as it did for me, is to keep the question constantly in your mind, every time you believe something to be true: where did I learn this? Or even, more simply, Why?