“I would just like to point out that the two of you have always insisted I was crazy for thinking the Queen had an affinity for all five conduits. Looks like I’m right,” Silene says with triumph in her voice and a wide grin.

“Fine,” I admit. “That does seem to be the case. But you have to agree the idea of that is… It’s inconceivable.”

“Yes, thank you, I’m incredibly intelligent, I know,” Silene says after sticking out her tongue. Both Fionn and I roll our eyes. Despite her flippant and childish demeanor, I can see the gears turning in Silene’s mind. “Did she appear to use any blood or speak any spells?”

“Not that I saw. But there was plenty of blood around her from the explosion. I don’t know if she needs to physically touch it to channel or just have it around,” Fionn answers.

“We just don’t know enough about it, and that’s the problem,” I say with a frustrated growl. “We’re not going to find anything out if all we ever do is meet with her never-ending Council of Advisors.”

“She made it extremely clear that we shouldn’t try another stunt like today, Thorne,” Fionn says firmly. “It’s too dangerous to attempt to spy on her again. I don’t even know how she knew I was there.”

“That’s what troubles me the most,” Silene offers. “Your light bending is impossible to spot. We’ve used it countless times, even around your father, and this has never happened. Did you slip at some point?”

“No,” I say, firmly. “I know I can be a cocky bastard sometimes, but when it comes to my magic, it’s warranted.” I give them a crooked smile. “I didn’t slip. I know I didn’t.”

“What do we do now?” Fionn asks. All three of us deflate, unsure where to go from here.

It’s been weeks since we arrived in Thayaria, and all we have to show for it are endless meetings with mid-level advisors. We’ve listened to them plan how much grain to purchase, where to store it, whether they should subsidize it; sat in on discussions about applications for government-sponsored small business and arts grants; even observed a contentious vote regarding raising taxes in Arberly to fund more scholarships to the magical training school for gifted channelers. On and on the meetings go, never about anything that might give us insight into Queen Laurel’s magic, pulling us from room-to-room with little time to rest or strategize with one another on how to get the information we actually want.