Stay out of our way and don’t try to show off.

Who does she think she is?

I’m saved from responding by Pandora, who directs us to take a pair of protective gloves and two tennis balls each. As I put on my gloves, I wonder if I should give someone else my tennis balls, since if I maintain my focus, I should be able to knock someone unconscious with a single word. Then again, that could count as “showing off.” I gnash my teeth together as Arryn’s order rings through my mind again.

But then I think about it further, and I realize that I don’t know how to render someone unconscious with my ability. What if I make them too unconscious and they fall into a coma? What if I don’t make them unconscious enough and they wake up before I’m ready? Is there a difference between being unconscious and being asleep, and how do I decide which is which when I Speak? It’s like having to administer a medicine, but not knowing the dosage. Too much or too little could end in disaster.

Perhaps Arryn is right—until I know more about Speaking, I shouldn’t try to “show off.”

Misreading my troubled expression as I look at the tennis balls, Kael leans in and says, “Don’t forget, Speaking is more challenging under pressure. When your adrenaline is high, it’s harder to concentrate, harder to focus on your intent.” He grabs four of the balls, passing two to me before adding, “Better safe than sorry, princess. Stick with what you know, and we’ll get through tonight just fine.”

That’s another thing I hadn’t considered. I’m not worried about facing this new breakout teenager, but if Lengard is here … Kael is right about the adrenaline that would cause. The idea of a skirmish with them already has my blood pressure rising. My throat turns dry as I grip the balls tightly, psyching myself up to use them if necessary.

A touch on my gloved hand prompts me to turn to meet Pandora’s sympathetic gaze. “Just breathe, Lyss,” she tells me. “You’ve got this.”

Cami moves in closer as Kael, Arryn, and Keeda start to murmur to each other, and she asks Pandora, “How many of these … missions … have you been on?”

“Finding breakouts?” Pandora asks, pulling a knitted scarf from her Mary Poppins pocket and wrapping it around her neck. The lime-green color clashes horribly with her hair, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “Too many to count.”

“And how many times have you crossed paths with Lengard?” I ask.

Her mouth quirks up at the corner. “Too many to count.”

Cami’s concern is splashed across her features, and I’m sure mine is, too.

“Look, guys,” Pandora says, with a quick glance to make sure Kael, Keeda, and Arryn are still murmuring to each other, “it’s not without risk. But you have to think of what’s at stake— the freedom of a Speaker.”

She says it with such passion that I eye her closely and ask, “How did you end up at the catacombs, Pandora?”