Lena’s stomach roiled, and she started to stumble backward toward the Holy Council. She tripped on the steps, landing hard on her tailbone. The man in white brocade was Lord Chatham, and he was approaching her with thunder in his face. He’s finally woken up, then, Lena thought, her heart pattering. Time to face the consequences.

There was no sign of the injuries his mechanicals had inflicted upon him—but it looked as if he was determined to have his revenge.

Suddenly Emris was at her side, hauling her to her feet. She watched his expression harden as he realized what was happening.

Lena drew herself up tall.

“Hand her over, huntsman,” Lord Chatham demanded.

Emris shook his head. “She is not mine to hand over.”

“I’m not coming with you,” Lena said, her hand circling the butterfly in her pocket, the weight of it lending her courage. Its wings fluttered at her touch.

“This girl destroyed my property,” Lord Chatham growled, continuing to address Emris. “Do you have any idea how much she has cost me? The King has authorized a warrant for her arrest.” He held out a piece of paper stamped with a large red seal. “Hand her over.”

The guards moved forward, surrounding the pair.

“Lena is a novice of the temple of Faul. You will need to petition the Council,” Emris said firmly, but the men didn’t seem to be listening, tightening the circle around them.

“We should go,” Lena said. She glanced up toward the Holy Council, but it was unlikely the few left inside were aware of what was happening on their doorstep.

“Petition the Council? Me?” Chatham’s voice was mocking. For the first time, Lena thought she saw a glimpse of black-rainbow glimmer flashing behind his gray eyes, and felt an instant chill. “First, my godsdamned apprentice runs off with the most precious item in my possession. Then this little thief refuses to sell me something that isn’t even hers to sell and sets a fortune’s worth of stock against me with her filthy Rogue magic, nearly killing me. I’ll have to destroy it all. Do you have any idea how expensive it’s going to be for me to replace that stock?” His guards parted for him as he climbed the first few steps, then closed in tightly behind. “And you talk to me of petitions.” Chatham opened his hands wide at his sides. The air crackled, and with a sudden whoosh his palms were glowing and fizzing with a fierce, flickering, electrical light, yellow sparks flying between his fingers. “I will have retribution.”