Ilse knocked at the seventh hour, two days after the deep-ward chamber, while I was standing at the map room window pretending to look at the volcano and actually thinking about something else entirely.

Two knocks, a half-beat, one more. I said come in before she finished.

She set the Council notice on the table without making me reach for it. “The Council has formally requested a report. Two days.”

I picked it up and read it, which was mostly a ceremony. The language was official and cold and said what it meant: account for yourself, account for the Vael sorcerer who has been living in our Citadel for six...