“Fine,” Dex conceded, “but you have to admit that you guys aren’t exactly on the front lines—and I’m not saying you should be. All I’m saying is: Don’t act like we don’t get how huge the stakes are just because we still know how to have a little fun sometimes.”

“Yeah, maybe we joke around because it makes all the tough stuff feel a little less terrifying,” Biana added. “It doesn’t mean we don’t know what we’re up against—we know that better than anybody.” She held out her arms, letting the light catch the lines of her scars. “And we’re still here—still fighting. So the only real difference is that now you guys are supposedly going to help us, instead of hindering us, like you have been.”

“Exactly.” Dex crossed his arms, eyeing each of the Councillors. “The way I see it, we’re just going to keep right on doing what we’ve been doing. And whether this new arrangement fails, or succeeds, that’s on you.”

“It’s always on us, Mr. Dizznee,” Emery said through a sigh that sounded more weary than frustrated. “Being Councillors is a tremendous responsibility—one you need to start grasping more fully if we’re going to work together. Which is why we brought you here today. We realize you’re eager to get to work, and assure you that this will only take a few more minutes. But it’s time for the five of you to understand the larger forces at play in our world, and how they shape the roles we’ve taken on.”

All twelve Councillors reached for their pins again, this time pressing the filigree inlaid into the bow and triggering a squeaky rattle in the walls.

Sophie’s ears rang as the honeycomb stones unfolded with extra panes of smooth, clear crystal that slowly rotated as the diamond stones eased apart, allowing the new pieces to snap together with the old and form a much wider globe. The floor stretched toward its new barriers, and within seconds the Paragon had doubled in size—maybe even tripled.

And the clear panes now served as windows, providing an impossible view of…

“I thought you said we weren’t going into space,” Sophie murmured, rubbing her eyes to make sure she was truly staring at the sphere of swirled blue, white, and green like she’d seen in hundreds and hundreds of pictures in human science classes.

She never thought she’d actually see the earth from up above—and it was so much more beautiful than she’d imagined.

And humbling.

And awe-inspiring.

And more than a little terrifying.

Everything she knew—everything she cared about—was so very far away. And she had no idea how they were supposed to get back, or how it was safe for them to be hovering so high up in this sparkly hamster ball contraption.

“Technically, we’re not in space,” Councillor Emery corrected. “We’re at the very edge of our atmosphere, at the Point of Purity, where the force of the sunlight, starlight, and moonlight are all equal. As Councillors, we make this journey at least once a year, to remind ourselves where the true power in our world lies. It’s not in us—or in anyone in our species—but in nature itself. We are fragile, flawed creatures. But by some strange fluke of chance, we’re also conduits for these forces that surround us—and we’re the only species on our planet capable of such a feat. Which makes it our responsibility to use that power for good—to maintain order and peace for all creatures, and to ensure that everyone continues to prosper. That is why we lead. Not for praise or privilege or honor or glory. But because it’s our obligation. And all we hope for in exchange is a thriving, safe planet. Only when you truly believe that about us can you understand who we are, both as your Councillors and as people. The crowns and fanfare are simply a facade to look the part we’ve found ourselves having to play. They do not change the fact that what we really are is a group of twelve relatively normal individuals trying our best to be what people need. And that is why we must stay in power.”

“Our rule will never be perfect,” Bronte added quietly, “but at least we serve for the right reasons—and we will always strive to do what’s best for our people. That’s why we wanted the five of you to stand with us here today, in the center of all that drives us, so we can offer you the new oath that we’ve created.”

Councillor Emery’s gaze shifted to Sophie, and when he spoke again, his tone held a new level of authority. “Everything we do—right or wrong, good or bad, success or failure—is to serve the various species who need our help on this planet. We won’t deny that we’ve made missteps, or that we’ve resisted change—but those days are now behind us. For too long we’ve clung to the old ways, relying on the tried and true because it had worked in the past. But it has failed us, again and again. So it’s time to move forward. Time to embrace new views and new wisdom. And we stand here now, ready to swear to you that from this moment on, you can be assured of three things: We will listen. We will learn. And we will adapt. All we ask in return is that you be ready and willing to do the same. If you put your faith in us, we will put that same faith in you. For the good of everyone.”

“For the good of everyone,” the other eleven Councillors repeated, their diamond circlets glittering like stars. “We will listen. We will learn. And we will adapt.”

“Your service to us will not be easy,” Emery added, widening his gaze to include all of Sophie’s teammates. “It will not be safe. And it will not always be what you wish it would be. But it will be vital. It will be game-changing. And together, we will bring our side to victory—assuming we’re on the same side. Are you ready to accept this partnership?”

“A partnership in the loosest sense of the word,” Bronte clarified quickly. “Your authority will technically be no different than the authority of any other Regent. And our authority will remain supreme. But… we will hear you out and keep an open mind. And the fact that I’m promising this after I’ve endured your ridiculous discussions of team names and titles for Miss Foster—and did so without inflicting on any of you, no less—should be more than enough proof of my commitment to this vow.”

“We’re all committed,” Terik assured them. “The five of you are incredibly special children.”

“Uh, who are you calling ‘children’?” Wylie asked.

Terik smiled. “When you get to be my age—and certainly when you get to be Bronte’s age—you’ll see why the term still applies. But you’ll also see that it’s not a bad thing. There’s great power in youth. What you lack in experience, you make up for in innovation. And hopefully, by combining both perspectives, this new arrangement will be the solution we so desperately need.”

“Which is why we must now ask for your commitment,” Emery added. “We’ve sworn our oath to you. It’s time for you to make yours to us—which will be a two-step process. First a vow, similar to what most Regents say, with slight modifications to reflect our unique situation. And the vow will be followed by a simple test to prove that you’re each ready for the responsibilities and challenges ahead.”

“Test?” Sophie and all of her friends repeated, sharing a nervous look.