If I were in another situation, I might laugh at his use of the word fortress, but in the last few days, I’ve discovered nearly everyone I’ve met is a shape-shifter, the other half are death-speakers, and I’m some sort of modern ferryman. I am in no place to critique vocabulary.

I’m led to a room with a large, oblong table, already crowded with a mix of flesh-and-blood Valryn and holograms. These must be the elites Shy talked about, the leaders of the Valryn. Among them is Roth, who makes eye contact with me; his fingers play with a chain at his neck. My poppa’s coin—a reminder of the power he has over me.

Bastian directs me to a seat at the head of the table. My back is to a large, dark window. If that isn’t enough to make me uncomfortable, everyone is looking at me, assessing, wondering if I’m capable of the accusations leveled against me. I study them too. Some are surprised and others hostile. No one appears friendly, not even the most familiar face among them. When my eyes land on him, I can’t stop myself from blurting, “Mr. Val? You’re Valryn?”

He is reactionless except for a single raised brow, as if he wants to be amused but his face forgot how.

“Yes, Miss Silby,” he says. “I’m equally surprised you’re the Eurydice.”

My face heats, and for some reason, I find myself wanting to prove Mr. Val wrong, but not just him—all these people.

Roth clears his throat and stands.

“You’ve all been briefed on tonight’s events, along with the disappearance of soul Vera Bennet and the deaths of Chase Lockwood and Lily Martin for which the Eurydice is responsible,” he says.

I have the urge to protest—just what exactly have they been told? But I bite my tongue—I’ll have my chance…I hope.

“It is my opinion that Anora Silby is a danger to herself and others,” Roth continues.

I set my teeth so hard, my jaw hurts, and my hands, resting on the arms of the too-large chair, clench, even the one caught in the claw.

“And what evidence have you to present, Luminary?” the elite sitting closest to me asks.

Yes, what evidence? I want to hear it too.

“You already know the story, Elite Cain,” says another Valryn. “Chase Lockwood’s soul was stolen right from his body—we have proof of that. Is that not evidence enough?”

“It is a start, Elite Ezekiel,” says Elite Cain. “But overall, it proves nothing.”

“Eurydice,” says a white-haired woman who introduced herself as Elite Gwen. “Did you know Chase Lockwood?”

“My name is Anora.”