“Glad you could join us, Noabell,” Julian said, extinguishing the orb with a murmured word and a flick of his wrist. “I’m happy to see that you know where the door is, in addition to the windows.”
Noa strode down the aisle with a bounce in her step. Julian’s quips weren’t going to dim her excitement. She was a royal councillor!
The throne room was grand, anchored by pillars of dark basalt and framed with windows of colorful sea glass, through which the sunlight poured and splashed the floor with squares of gold. On either side of the aisle rose tiered benches like seats in an amphitheater. The throne at the far end, made from fantastically shaped driftwood and jagged spears of obsidian, commanded immediate attention.
Julian rose and went to the table, and the councillors fell silent. There were eleven in total—five of Julian’s most trusted mages, as well as an ambassador from each of the six Florean islands he had conquered so far.
“Let’s begin,” he said. Murmuring something in Hum, Julian summoned a larger orb, which rose above the table to the height of a lamp before shattering into a hundred tiny glints to illuminate the scattered papers. “You’ll notice that we have a new councillor. I trust you’ll give her ideas your full consideration.”
A few of the councillors, including Renne and Asha, a wizened mage who had also served their parents, smiled at Noa. Others, including most of the ambassadors from the islands Julian had captured, watched her with varying degrees of curiosity and disapproval. Noa gave them her best imperious stare, which didn’t achieve much except to make some of them smile condescendingly. She decided that she would start practicing in front of a mirror.
“First, the reports,” Renne said.
Each of the ambassadors described the state of their islands, including their defenses and the taxes they had raised for Julian’s treasury. Julian looked distracted. At one point, he summoned another orb and began tossing it lazily from hand to hand. Reckoner awoke, sniffed around for Julian, then snuffled against his hand for chin scratches. Once he got them, he flopped back down under the table. He repeated this process five minutes later. Reckoner had a short memory.
The ambassadors droned on. Renne broke in occasionally to do some droning of his own, though his was flustered and occasionally confusing. Renne wasn’t any better at public speaking than he was at magic or strategy, and Noa wished for the thousandth time that Julian hadn’t appointed him second-in-command, which made him head of the council. Noa had tried to talk him out of it, but Julian wouldn’t hear a word against his childhood friend. She’d also tried to get him to replace Ellabeth, a mage so ancient she could barely do magic anymore, and whose only contributions to council meetings were to loudly demand that the councillors repeat themselves and occasionally snap at Julian to stand up straight. There were plenty of other capable mages on the island to take her place, but Julian refused to sack her, for Ellabeth had been Mom’s councillor since before he was born. Noa had grudgingly come to accept that this sort of impractical loyalty was one of Julian’s weaknesses that she was never going to change.
There wasn’t much new information since the last meeting, and Noa began tapping her foot impatiently. Julian eyed her with amusement. When the last ambassador fell silent, he said, “Perhaps we should come to our main order of business.”
“Yes,” Asha said. “I’ve been waiting to hear more about these mysterious magics you hinted at yesterday.”
Julian told them what he’d told Noa, recounting the myth of the Lost Words and what he’d learned from the captured mage. Noa watched the faces of the councillors as he spoke. The ambassadors looked puzzled, if not skeptical. But the mages’ eyes sparkled with excitement. It was clear that the myth of the Lost Words was well known among them.
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” said one of the ambassadors, a man with yellow hair and a very red nose. “But this strikes me as a fool’s errand. We have plenty of magic at our disposal—what we don’t have is territory. We should focus on capturing more islands, not chasing after long-lost grimoires. You can be sure that Gabriela isn’t so easily distracted.”
Julian’s expression didn’t change, but Noa saw him stiffen ever so slightly, as he always did when Gabriela’s name was mentioned. His mages knew this and avoided bringing her up whenever possible, but this ambassador was new and clueless.
“You don’t get it,” Noa said before Julian could respond. “This isn’t just about finding new spells—it’s about stopping Xavier from getting them.”
The ambassador looked down his red nose at her. “And if he does? Are we not led by the most powerful dark magician in Florean?”
“Julian can’t protect us against magics he’s never seen, let alone used himself,” Noa said. “If Xavier finds the Lost Words, it could be the end of us.”
Several of the mages were nodding. The ambassador huffed. “We don’t even know they exist.”
“Precisely,” another ambassador said. “Could this be some elaborate scheme of Xavier’s to send us on a wild-goose chase? His mage may have been lying.”
“He wasn’t,” Julian said. “But perhaps you’d like to hear it from him?”
A shadow seemed to fall across the council. Renne was regarding Julian with an uneasy look that made Noa frown. Renne was Julian’s oldest friend—when had he started being afraid of Julian?
Julian motioned to the guard at the door, who vanished into the antechamber. Seconds later, he was back, and behind him were two more guards, each supporting the arm of the man between them.
“Here we are,” Julian said pleasantly. “Say hello to the council, Thadeus.”
The man, who wore the red-and-gold cloak of Xavier’s mages, looked up. Noa recoiled, and several of the councillors gasped. The man’s eyes were shadow. A
