It takes her a moment to answer. There’s clear strain on her face. She’s concentrating hard on something.

“Now, I’m going to bring in the others.”

“What others?” John asks.

In answer, there’s a rush of noise from all around us. All of a sudden, it seems like we’re in the middle of a crowded party. That’s because the gallery surrounding the Elders table is now completely filled with people. They’re all our age—some maybe a few years younger—and at first glance seem to come from all over the world. Many of them talk excitedly among themselves, some making introductions, others discussing the vision they just saw, analyzing the details of the Setrákus and Pittacus story. Others sit by themselves, looking nervous or afraid. A tanned boy with dark hair and a beaded necklace won’t stop crying into his hands, even though he’s being comforted by a pair of blond girls who look like they belong in a commercial for hot cocoa. The way they’re acting, it’s like these people have been sitting here the whole time and we’re the ones who just teleported into view. I guess, from their perspective, that’s exactly what happened.

Sam sits in the very first row, a surly-looking girl with a mess of braids sitting next to him. He looks right at me, smiles and mouths hey.

Then, the commotion really starts.

“Look!” screams a Japanese girl, and it takes me a second to realize she’s pointing at us.

A murmur goes through the crowd as everyone notices us sitting around the table. At first, they all talk at once, peppering us with questions that I can’t even distinguish. Slowly, the room goes quiet. A respectful silence eventually falls. These are the human Garde. I can only imagine how bat-shit insane this whole thing is for them.

And now, I realize, they’re waiting for us to explain the situation.

I look around our table. Ella is still completely spaced out. Next to her, Setrákus Ra thrashes and struggles. Adam and Five both look like they’re about to hide under the table. Even Marina is blushing and looking uncomfortable. Unlike the others, Nine grins, nodding to as many people in the crowd as he can.

“What up,” he says. A few people in the audience snicker.

Obviously, one of us needs to say something more substantive than that.

John stands up, his chair scraping loudly against the marble floor. “It’s the dude from YouTube,” I hear someone whisper, and from the other side of the room someone else says, “It’s John Smith.” John looks at all the different faces, trying not to appear overwhelmed. I see Sam flash him a thumbs-up. John takes a deep breath, then hesitates. He turns to Ella.

“Do they all, uh, speak English?”

“I’m translating,” Ella answers simply, her eyes glowing intensely.