I jumped and, embarrassingly, squeaked out a panicked yelp. Nine laughed and tapped my trousers, and they, too, transformed. Miraculously—magically—they were even long enough now.

“What did you do?” Alarm filled Aaru’s voice as he backed away from Nine. “What is that?”

“This”—she lifted the device—“is magic. Real magic.” She tapped the rod onto Aaru’s clothes and grinned while the gray fabric rearranged itself into the uniform of the high magistrate’s guards. Then she changed hers, too. “Bring your own clothes. We’ll stash them away for later.”

My heart finally slowed to a normal rate while Aaru and I pressed our things into a small knapsack Nine lent us. The magic device went back into its box—it was probably far too dangerous to bring that with us—and Nine pulled out a sheet of paper with a hasty sketch of the Red Hall and the chamber where the summit would be held.

“Now,” she said, “here’s how this is going to happen.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

WHEN I WAS YOUNGER, VISITING THE LUMINARY Council’s chamber felt like something between a punishment and a treat. I hated politics, but I loved the marble columns and gold inlay, the brilliant noorestones, and the light and open airy feeling. I’d always thought that room, designed by the First Masters, was the height of architectural beauty.

But now, I saw the Fire Ministry’s chambers, and I understood what true power and wealth could offer.

It was all polished bloodwood, with seven tiers that descended toward the main floor and the high magistrate’s bench. Public and private galleries stood above, providing a space for carefully chosen citizens to come see their government at work. The furniture—long rows of desks—and even the staircases were painstakingly carved with decorative swirls and, on the bigger pieces, detailed etchings of their goddess’s great works.

Even though the fifty noorestones shone their usual white-blue, the room looked red. Rich. Forbidding.

Nine had given us strict instructions on how to move, where to stand, and the need for us to do exactly as she ordered. “I’ve worked too hard to earn the trust of the high magistrate and his guard,” she’d explained. “I don’t need the two of you ruining everything in a day.”

I couldn’t imagine how she’d managed to get herself inserted into the high magistrate’s personal guard, let alone the two of us, but when I asked, she simply said she wasn’t going to tell islanders her secrets. We were, after all, supposed to be enemies.

So when we arrived in the chambers, we took our positions and waited while the rest of the Red Hall security escorted the dignitaries to their seats.

The chairs filled up quickly, first with the thirty members of the Fire Ministry. Nine had said they usually took up the entire chamber, with seats next to them for their aides, but now all the ministers sat to the western side to leave room for the rest. There were no aides today.