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T he tunnel ceased its spinning in a matter of seconds. The whirling colors of ivory, blue, and gold melted outward to form a hallway featuring the same gold-veined marble floors as the bedroom and bathroom, the same blue crystalline walls. At the end of the hall was a pair of white doors painted with intricate gold vines. Etrix stood before them and greeted his daughter with a formal bow.

“We’re ready, regent,” he said as he straightened. The fact that Cora understood his words told her he’d already woven his translation enchantment.

However, Cora wasn’t sure she was ready, and from the way Mareleau edged closer to her, arms cradling her son tightly to her chest, her friend was equally as apprehensive. Cora had been to plenty of council meetings now that she was queen, but was an Elvyn tribunal the same as a council?

They weren’t given long to ponder, for Etrix pushed open the doors and led the way inside. The room beyond was a wide, circular shape and darker than the hall had been. The sconces that lined the walls offered only a faint glow. The rest of the light came from overhead, where dazzling flashes of illumination darted beneath a domed ceiling. Cora blinked up at the lights; they came from glowing wings. Were they…butterflies? They cast the room in shades of blue and green. But as she stepped farther into the room, their wings glowed brighter, shifting to yellow and orange. Some deepened to a fiery red.

“Hold out your hand,” Etrix said. Cora stopped in place and dragged her eyes from the ceiling to find her companions had halted too. Ailan stood beside Etrix. A butterfly hovered over each of their heads; Etrix’s was blue while Ailan’s flickered between green and yellow. She didn’t see Garot until she noticed him settling into a chair nearby, a blue butterfly over his head. That drew her attention to the circular perimeter of the room and the three tiers of seating that lined the walls, the highest tier being the closest to the walls while the lowest circled the floor at the very center of the room. An Elvyn figure occupied almost every chair, leaving a few empty at the innermost tier.

Remembering what Etrix had said, she turned her gaze back to him and lifted her hand. A butterfly fluttered down from the ceiling and alighted on the back of her hand. Up close, she saw it had a total of eight delicate wings, all of which glowed a cloudy yellow-green. Just as quickly as it had touched down, it launched back into the air. This time, it hovered over her head and remained there, much like the ones floating above Etrix, Ailan, and Garot. Another glance at the dome showed most of the butterflies had dispersed and now fluttered above individual Elvyn figures. The light from their wings illuminated harsh stares as well as some curious expressions like Garot wore. Her eyes fell on another familiar face—Fanon—flickering orange beneath the glow of his butterfly. His eyes narrowed slightly as he met Cora’s gaze, and she turned her attention to Mareleau.

It was her turn to claim a butterfly. Mareleau’s eyes danced, expression enchanted, as the winged creature perched upon her hand shifted to a blue glow before hovering above her head.

“Their colors match our moods and emotions,” Ailan explained, voice low. “They ensure no one hides their true feelings from the rest of the tribunal. They also allow us to wordlessly demonstrate our choices when voting on a decision.”

That drained the pleasant aspects of Cora’s fascination. Now she felt naked. She was used to experiencing others’ emotions, but to have hers bared for others…

The light above her head shifted to orange. If the Elvyn associated color with emotions the same way the Forest People did—especially the more artistically inclined—blue would represent baseline calm, progressing into deeper emotions with teal, green, and yellow, then ending with more heated emotions represented by orange and red. White and violet were often used to express pure or spiritual aspects of magic.

The orange wings overhead made her annoyance clear for all to see. She gritted her teeth.

“Come,” Etrix said, gesturing toward the empty chairs at the innermost tier, “take a seat.”

Cora and Mareleau exchanged a wary glance before following him to the center of the room, then to the velvet-upholstered wingback chairs. They were about to sit down when shuffling movement had them halting in place. The Elvyn rose from their seats to kneel beside their chairs, heads bowed low. A murmur of Morkara rumbled through the room. Cora’s eyes darted from the bowed heads to Ailan, only to find her kneeling beside Etrix.

Right. Ailan wasn’t Morkara. Noah was.

Mareleau noticed at the same time, her cheeks flushing at the attention her son was receiving. Finally, the figures rose and returned to their seats. Cora and Mareleau did the same.

Ailan sat between Mareleau and Fanon, while Etrix stood at the center of the room. Cora recalled from her first time in El’Ara that Etrix was Head of Tribunal. “Now that we’ve had our brief recess, we can discuss the last of our topics.”

“We should address the criminal offense first,” one of the Elvyn seated on the second tier said. A red butterfly cast his cold expression, his pursed lips, his angled ears beneath short dark hair, in a crimson glow.

Cora bristled, knowing she was the so-called criminal in question.

“No,” Ailan said, “I already have our first topic prepared. I want a binding vow stated before Queen Mareleau, mother of our Morkara, that you welcome, accept, and protect her, same as her son whom you’ve already sworn to honor.”

A rumble of disagreement spread throughout the room. As more voices added their dissent, Etrix’s translation enchantment lost its effectiveness. Too many Elvyn spoke out, and thanks to the butterflies’ orange and red hues, Cora didn’t need to understand what they were saying to glean the gist of it. They didn’t want Mareleau here.

Fury burned in Mareleau’s eyes, matched by the red butterfly overhead. Cora reached across her armrest to lay a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. She hoped it conveyed her wordless promise—that if worst came to worst, she’d worldwalk her and Noah out of there at once.

Mareleau gave Cora a knowing nod, and her butterfly cooled to orange.

Etrix raised a hand, and the arguing ceased. When he spoke, his words were clear, his translation weaving back in place. “We are not here to discuss all humans or witches. Just the two human queens in question. Only one is up for discussion now.”

“Mareleau is the blood of my blood,” Ailan said. “Should I die before Noah comes of age, the mora will recognize her as regent, and there is nothing you can do about that. She must be allowed to stay here with him, even if only for the sake of the flow and control of mora .”

“Allowed,” Mareleau muttered through her teeth, quiet enough so only Cora could hear. “As if they can keep him from me. As if he belongs to them and not me.”

Cora wasn’t sure if the rage she felt was Mareleau’s or her own. She was angry on her friend’s behalf. On Noah’s. Mareleau had only agreed to come to El’Ara for her son’s protection, and to keep the dragons from seeking her in the human world. She hadn’t even begun to discuss whether she and Noah would live here. Ailan had promised her time to save such choices for later, that they’d figure out the future together after they’d defeated Darius.

Ailan continued. “She brought her son here to honor his position as Morkara of El’Ara. In return, you must honor her as Edel Morkara’Elle.”

The last few words remained untranslated, but they were vaguely familiar. Ailan had once said they meant something like a queen mother.

“You’ve already accepted the mora’s choice to deem Noah your Morkara,” Ailan said. “You’ve accepted him despite his human blood.”

“If we accept her,” said the same dark-haired Elvyn from the second tier, “are we to simply accept all other humans in the future? What if she bears other children? What of the Morkara’s children? Are we to accept a diminishing bloodline, accept that our people may one day cease to be should the humans proliferate faster?”

A few Elvyn voiced their agreement, but Etrix spoke. “I’ve already stated that we are not discussing all humans. Nor are we discussing the distant future. Your fears are valid, and they will be addressed in due time, but today we discuss only the most pressing topics. Do you vow to honor, protect, and accept our Morkara’s human mother, Mareleau, as Edel Morkara’Elle?”

Another murmur of dissent hummed around the room, but the voices ceased when Etrix bent his knee.

“Then I shall be the first,” he said. His butterfly adopted a violet glow. “Edel Morkara’Elle Mareleau, I state my binding vow that I honor, protect, and accept you as the mother of my Morkara and a citizen of El’Ara.”

Garot quickly followed suit, kneeling beside his chair like everyone had done for Noah earlier. Ailan followed next, then—to Cora’s surprise—Fanon. After that, the other Elvyn bent their knees in turn until every head was bowed. Beneath the violet hue of their ever-fluttering butterflies, they stated their vows.

When they rose and returned to their seats, the colors shifted mostly back to shades of orange, though some had cooled to green or blue.

Mareleau released a slow exhale. Her relief was so palpable, it made it past Cora’s wards. Cora offered her a reassuring smile, but it left her face at Etrix’s next words.

“We will now discuss the other human queen, Aveline Caelan.”

Cora’s heart kicked up, and her butterfly flashed red before she forced her breaths to even out, her emotions to calm. Everything had turned out well for Mareleau. Perhaps it would go well for her too.

Of course it was easy for Mareleau , sniped some dark part of her mind. Everything is easy for Mareleau. You’re just her decoy, remember?

Resentment speared her chest. It was so sudden, so violent, she nearly gasped out loud. What the hell was that about? Those hadn’t been her thoughts. She could never think that about Mareleau! Yet…they’d come from inside her, not outside. No, that was impossible.

“She was condemned by our former steward,” said one of the Elvyn, tone brimming with disgust. Cora was grateful for the distraction. The resentment faded from her heart as she found a new target for bitter feelings. “Fanon sentenced her to death?—”

“A sentence that was supported neither by me nor the rest of the tribunal, mind you,” Etrix said. “Furthermore, Queen Aveline has been pardoned by our regent. She is a close ally of our regent, our Morkara, and our Edel Morkara’Elle. Her guilt or innocence in breaking our laws is not up for debate. We are here to establish new rules to accommodate the alliance our regent would like to propose to the humans.”

“She’s a worldwalker,” the same Elvyn said. “She entered our world with her magic and left the same way. She should be punished before we can even consider allying with her.”

Etrix’s butterfly darkened to a shade of teal, the only sign he was growing impatient. “It remains impossible for a worldwalker to utilize their magic to cross the Veil into El’Ara. As Ailan already explained, the human queen’s actions were accidental. It was only her connection to a unicorn—and his horn’s ability to pierce the Veil—that allowed her to enter our world last month.”

Last month! Mother Goddess, that’s right. To the Elvyn, it had only been a month since last summer’s events.

Etrix went on. “Preventing a worldwalker from exiting El’Ara through magical means was never woven into Satsara’s wardweaving. She left El’Ara for fear of her life after being targeted by the dragon Ferrah.”

“She has crucial information,” said another Elvyn, this one seated on the third tier. He gestured toward Cora. “Should she give this information to Darius, share how he could utilize a unicorn to cross the Veil, we’ll be done for.”

“Which is why we’re forging an alliance,” Ailan said, her butterfly flickering between orange and red.

“How can we trust her?” said another voice.

Then another. “She’s human! She can’t make a binding vow.”

And another. “I still say she should be punished.”

The voices overlapped, compromising Etrix’s translation magic once more.

Anger simmered in Cora’s gut, melding with the enraged emotions clawing their way past her shields. It sent a piercing ache to her temples.

“I want to hear what Fanon has to say,” said Garot.

Cora shot him a glare across the room. Of all the people to make such a suggestion! And she’d thought he was on her side. Was he simply obtuse?

Fanon’s jaw shifted side to side. His butterfly glowed a deep orange, and he slouched in his chair like he wanted to be anywhere else. Cora braced herself for whatever hatred he was about to spew.

His voice came out tight. “Whatever I have said or done as steward is no longer relevant. We have our Morkara now, and our regent. I condemned the human queen as I saw fit when the authority was mine, but our regent has condemned those actions in turn. We have Ailan’s judgment now. You need not mine.”

Cora blinked a few times, surprised by his words. She wasn’t the only one. While his statement moved some to silence, it outraged others.

“We still can’t trust her!”

“How can we trust an alliance with a worldwalker?”

“She must demonstrate her worth as our ally.”

“She could use her magic at any time.”

Another ache pierced Cora’s temples as the arguments dissolved back into chaos. Devils below, she felt like she was in the council room with Lords Kevan and Ulrich, the target of their ire and suspicion. She never had managed to earn their trust or respect before they’d met their demise, but she had gotten her way a few times with a blend of truth and lies. She tried to think of some way to utilize those same lessons now, but she had just one idea. One that weighed heavy against her thigh and sent a memory of pain through her neck.

Breathing out a slow exhale, she rose to her feet. “Can I speak?”

The arguing voices went silent.

Ailan sat up straighter, brow furrowed. Etrix turned to her, head tilted slightly to the side. His butterfly flickered a deep green, then softened back to blue. “Yes, Queen Aveline. You may speak.”

“Your regent has already spoken on my behalf,” Cora said to the room at large, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice, “so I will not repeat what has already been said. No, I cannot make a binding vow, and I know a human’s promise means nothing to you without one. All I can offer you is this.”

Cora extracted the collar from inside her robe. Her stomach turned just to hold it. She lifted it for all to see. “If you can’t trust my magic, then collar me until it’s time for me to return to my people. That’s all I can offer you.”

She held her breath, waiting for more arguments, or for one of the Elvyn to act and snap the device around her neck.

But Ailan spoke first. “Where…where did you get that? Why do you have it?”

Cora faced the regent as Ailan rose from her chair to stand beside Cora. The Elvyn woman’s eyes were wide as they locked on the item in Cora’s hand.

Cora was surprised by her reaction. While it was true she hadn’t mentioned the collar when she’d talked about her time in El’Ara, she’d had no reason to believe Ailan would be so shocked by it. “Fanon used this on me. It suppressed my magic.”

Ailan shot a fiery gaze at Fanon, her butterfly darkening to blood-red. She pointed at the device. “That was made for one individual.”

Fanon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It was made for a worldwalker. I brought it with us to investigate the trigger that had alerted us of an unwelcome intruder.”

“You shouldn’t have used it on her.”

He opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut. His butterfly was almost as deep-red as hers now. “As you say, regent.”

Ailan marched up to Cora and snatched the collar from her hands. “No one will use this on her, or any of my human allies. This was reserved for Darius, and for him alone it will remain.”

Disgruntled murmurs sounded throughout the room, but Ailan spoke over them.

“Don’t you see now? The human queen has demonstrated trust in the only way she can. She offered to let us collar her, and we will let that be enough. She returned a priceless, irreplaceable item to where it belongs. It is perhaps the only thing that will give us a chance to defeat Darius.”

Another ripple of surprise moved through her. Cora had assumed the collar was a common piece of Elvyn technology, not a one-of-a-kind artifact.

“It didn’t work before,” one of the Elvyn said. Her expression was neutral beneath the glow of her yellow-green butterfly.

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t an advantage,” Ailan said. “Now, enough with this back and forth about Queen Aveline. She is my ally, and she has demonstrated trust like you demanded.”

When no one stated a word of reproach, Ailan returned to her chair. Cora did the same and was relieved to feel somewhat lighter. She hadn’t realized how much she’d dreaded wearing the collar again until it was taken from her hands. Ailan now held it in her lap, gingerly, as if it were precious.

Cora couldn’t help but wonder about it. Why was it so irreplaceable? What had the Elvyn female meant when she’d said it hadn’t worked before? Had they tried to use it on Darius? Had it been part of Satsara’s attempted wardweaving?

There was a story there, and Cora needed to know more.

“Now,” Etrix said, drawing her attention away from the collar, “let us discuss the alliance.”