Dancer stiffened, and Han put his hand on his friend’s arm. “He’s trying to get a rise out of you,” he murmured. “Don’t give him an excuse to hush both of you. Just let him dig himself a deeper hole.”

“Alister and his copperhead friends have obviously concocted this story in order to discredit me,” Bayar went on. Finally, he looked at Dancer and Willo. “Are you two aware that copperheads are forbidden to enter the Council House? Leave, or I will have you seized.”

“You don’t have the authority to order anyone seized,” Han said. “You are no longer High Wizard.”

“We won’t stay much longer,” Willo said. “This place drains my magic away.” She looked Bayar in the eyes. “Before we go, I have something to return to you.” She pulled a pouch from her belt and turned toward the council. “This is the jinxpiece Gavan Bayar used to render me defenseless.”

She handed it to Adam Gryphon. He picked free the tie and dumped Bayar’s ring onto his palm. Extending his hand toward the center of the table, he tilted it, the ring glittering in the light like an accusing eye. Two falcons, talons extended, back-to-back. With emerald eyes.

“It is a jinxpiece,” Gryphon said, poking it with his forefinger. “Very powerful, indeed.”

He didn’t say what everyone knew—the ring exactly matched the amulet Gavan Bayar had worn since his Naming. He closed his hand over his amulet as though he could hide it from view.

“The Demonai warriors say that if you mark your enemies, you can always find them again,” Willo went on. “You marked me, Bayar. You left me a scarred spirit—and a son.” She paused. “But I left my mark on you, too.”

“This has gone on quite long enough,” Bayar said. “We were in the process of—”

“Let her speak, Bayar,” Gryphon said. “We have time for this.”

“Display your right palm to the council,” Willo said. “Show the mark I made on you.”

Instead, Bayar closed his hands into fists. “Who seduced whom, witch?” he said, his voice low and venomous. Turning in a swirl of fabric, he stalked from the room.

For a long stunned moment, nobody moved. Then Micah Bayar rose and followed his father. But not before delivering a glare of pure hatred at Han and Dancer. His uncle, Lord Mander, hustled out after him.

Those left at the table stared after them.

Han balanced the gavel on his hand. “Well, I think we’ve lost our quorum,” he said. “So I don’t think we can do any other business today.”

Abelard smiled, shaking her head. “Well, well, Alister. Usually these meetings are deadly dull. New blood, indeed. You have infused new life into these proceedings.” Abelard, of everyone, seemed willing to accept Dancer, if by so doing it disgraced Gavan Bayar.