"I've been better," she said as the path forked, and she turned down the narrower hall. No one questioned her, even as the hall shrank with each curve of the spiral.

The third turn led them to another fork.

"An adjunct within an adjunct?" Granite asked. "How is that even possible?"

"One path goes up to higher ground." Mr. Forkle turned to Sophie. "Which way?"

Sophie listened for Prentice, but his ghostly voice had gone silent. She transmitted her name again, and when he didn't respond, she tried Black Swan! Follow the pretty bird across the sky! Wylie!

The last word brought him back.

"Left," Sophie said, taking the path that went up.

"Why would they want him closer to the surface?" Mr. Forkle asked Granite as they followed. "That seems illogical."

"Perhaps there was no more room for additions. Or-"

A groaning alarm drowned out the rest of Granite's sentence.

Sirens rumbled and croaked, reminding Sophie of a didgeridoo.

"Sounds like they know we're here!" Mr. Forkle shouted.

Their run turned to a sprint, leaving them breathless as the hallway widened again. Sophie could feel Prentice ahead, each step turning his presence warmer.

Warmer.

WARMER.

"There," she said, dashing up a flight of stairs.

They dead-ended in an unmarked silver door and Dex set to work on the enormous padlock.

"This is different than the one you gave me to practice on," he grumbled.

"But you can open it?" Granite asked.

"I hope so."

"How are you feeling?" Fitz asked Sophie as she shivered against the frozen wall. "Have you blocked out the voices?"

She rubbed her throbbing head. "Some are a little too strong right now."

"Then let me give your mind a boost." Fitz reached for her temples, and as soon as his fingers touched her skin, a burst of energy rushed into her consciousness. It felt like her brain had guzzled about fifty of Elwin's healing elixirs and then got showered with caffeine.

"Is that better?" he asked, his hands shaking as he lowered them.

Sophie nodded. "What did you just do?"

"He shared his mental energy," Mr. Forkle said. "Impressive, Mr. Vacker."

Fitz blushed. "I've been practicing."

"Got it!" Dex shouted, and they all spun toward the door.

Something passed between Granite and Mr. Forkle then, a look equal parts fear and hope as they pulled open Prentice's cell.

The room was massive-easily as big as Sophie's bedroom at Havenfield, which took up the entire third floor of the house. And it was empty, save for a large bubble of glass in the center, lit by silvery spotlights. Curled on the floor inside, lying on a thin blanket, was Prentice. His dark skin glistened with sweat and his hair was a tangled, matted mess. Drool streamed from his lips as he whispered words they couldn't hear.

"Is there a way in?" Sophie asked as Dex placed his palms against the bubble.

"I don't know. This glass feels solid. But there has to be a door."

"Perhaps underneath?" Mr. Forkle suggested.

Dex dropped to his knees and put his ear against the floor.

The room made Sophie's nerves prickle. Why waste all this space if they were going to keep Prentice locked in a bubble? And why was the ceiling a web of roots and wires and metal rods? Everything else in Exile was solid metal, to prevent anyone from tunneling in.

And now that she was thinking about it, hadn't the Collective said that today was some sort of special day, before extra security arrived?

"I can't figure out how this stupid cage works!" Dex shouted over the still blaring alarm. "It's like they designed it specifically to resist Technopaths. But don't worry, I came prepared." He pulled open the left side of his cloak to reveal a half-dozen small metal cubes strapped to his chest. "I wasn't sure what we'd need, so each of these does something different. And at least two of them should be able to shatter the glass."

"Wouldn't Prentice get speared by the raining shards?" Fitz asked.

"Perhaps we could shield him using telekinesis," Granite said to Mr. Forkle.

"I do not like leaving so much to chance," Mr. Forkle said.

Sophie shook her head, no longer able to ignore the prickles. "This is wrong. It has to be a trick."

"Finally, someone who sees wisdom," a voice said behind them.

The alarm went silent as they turned to face all twelve Councillors, blocking their only escape.

TWENTY-NINE.

SURRENDER IS YOUR only option," Councillor Emery told them, his eyes looking as dark as his skin and hair.

Once upon a time, Sophie had counted the spokesman for the Council among her advocates. But she heard no trace of compassion in his velvet voice.

"We designed this trap most carefully," he said. "Nothing was missed-including your inflicting ability, Miss Foster."

Sophie unclenched her fists, but held fast to the frenzy she'd been brewing. "How are you going to stop me?"

"Councillor Bronte will. Should you attempt to inflict, he will be obligated to respond. And we are confident his power will overshadow yours."

Several Councillors nodded, though a few looked apologetic. Surprisingly, Bronte fell into the latter category.

For months the sharp-featured, pointy-eared Councillor had fought to make Sophie's life miserable. But something had changed between them, and now she believed Bronte when he traced a hand across his cropped hair and said, "I am bound by my oath. If forced, I must protect the Council, regardless of how distasteful it may be."

"Distasteful," Councillor Alina scoffed. "Look around you, Bronte. These children were attempting to steal a prisoner from Exile!"

"A prisoner you should've pardoned weeks ago," Fitz argued.

Councillor Alina sighed as she tucked her wavy, caramel-colored hair behind her ear. "Clearly this is your mother's influence, Mr. Vacker. She's hiding here somewhere, isn't she? Don't worry. We'll find her."

It was no secret that Councillor Alina had tried to stop Alden and Della's wedding, begging Alden to marry her instead. Alden had dodged a bullet there-though she hadn't been as bad when she was principal of Foxfire. The power of being a Councillor had gone to her head.

"I feel you trying to invade my mind, Emery," Mr. Forkle said. "Having any luck?"

"Enjoy your last moments of anonymity," Councillor Emery told him. "They will soon end rather dramatically."

"Perhaps." Mr. Forkle twirled the ring on his finger, and terror boiled through Sophie.

Not yet, he transmitted. All is not lost yet.

He must've sent Dex and Fitz the same message, because they both straightened, neither looking particularly reassured.

"We knew you would use Miss Foster to rescue your associate," Councillor Emery told them, "and we knew we could leak enough information to draw them here today. But I must say, we never imagined you'd be foolish enough to come along."

"I could say the same for you," Granite told him. "All twelve Councillors out on a mission-and without their goblins?"

"Our bodyguards exist to make our opponents underestimate us. But you do not look properly intimidated." Councillor Emery glanced over his shoulder. "Would you mind, Clarette?"

A bronze-skinned Councillor stepped forward, her silky black hair swaying with each swish of her hips. She reminded Sophie of a volcano goddess, and the comparison made Sophie brace for some sort of earthquake. But all Clarette did was part her lips.

The sound that came out wasn't elvin or human. Sophie wasn't entirely sure it was earthly. The clicks and chatters and flutters sounded like a dolphin crying as a million dragonflies attacked.

"That's it?" Dex asked. "That's . . ."

His voice trailed off as the ceiling rumbled.

Mr. Forkle pulled Sophie to his side while Granite grabbed Dex and Fitz. The five of them barely got out of the way before a dozen massive boulders crashed into the room.

No-not boulders.

Boulders couldn't uncoil, or stretch eight feet tall, towering over them with hundreds of writhing legs.

"Arthropleura," Councillor Emery said. "Remarkable, aren't they?"

Sophie remembered learning about the giant, supposedly extinct arthropods in her human science classes. "I think they're plant eaters," she told her friends.

"True," Councillor Emery agreed. "But that doesn't mean they're defenseless."

He pointed to the long antennae jutting off the creatures' heads. The ends had forked points, glistening with some sort of clear slime.

Councillor Clarette clicked again, making all the arthropleura drop to a ready-to-pounce position.

"Polyglots," Mr. Forkle grumbled.

Sophie met his eyes.

No, you cannot control these creatures, he transmitted. Clarette is arguably the most powerful Polyglot our world has known-and has hundreds of years of practice.

"And this is merely one of our defenses," Councillor Emery warned.

Sophie studied each of the Councillors, realizing how little she knew about many of them. She didn't even know most of their names, much less their special abilities. But it seemed safe to assume they were all absurdly powerful.

It's time for you to use your emergency pendant, Mr. Forkle told her.

I'm not going to abandon you- Yes, you are! I have no intention of surrendering, but I can't have you here for the fight. I'm ordering Dex and Fitz to do the same.

What about Keefe, Biana, and Della? she asked.

Almost on cue, Councillor Emery turned toward the doorway. "It looks like the rest of your group has arrived."

The line of Councillors parted to allow Squall, Blur, Wraith, Della, Biana, and Keefe to march into the room, followed by a group of dwarves. Keefe's eyes went right to Sophie, and she could see the panic he was trying to hide. Even more troubling was the state of his cloak. Huge chunks of fabric were missing, along with one of the sleeves. Sophie doubted there was enough left to protect him in a leap. Worse still: Della and Biana no longer had their escape pendants.

I'll find a way to spare them, Mr. Forkle transmitted. You must leave-now!

I'm not leaving my friends!

Biana screamed as one of the arthropleura hissed at her.

Keefe pulled Biana behind him. "Yo guys, I hate to break it to you, but giant bugs are so last year. All the cool villains are threatening with ogres now."

"We are not the villains," Emery snapped.

"Are you sure?" Granite asked. "Threatening children seems rather villainous to me. As does leaving a damaged prisoner in a cell without so much as a bed."

"Brave words coming from a talking rock," Councillor Alina said. "Do you honestly expect us to take you seriously in those disguises?"

"We do indeed," Squall said, tilting her frozen head.

All twelve Councillors' circlets crusted with hoarfrost.

"We can do tricks too," a female Councillor said, holding out her hands. Electricity sparked from the edges of her fingertips, tiny lightning bolts filling the air with static.

"You're not honestly going to electrocute us, are you, Zarina?" Mr. Forkle asked.