A WEEK AFTER ELARA HAD ARRIVED IN HIGHFORT, THE CONFERENCE was held in Joya del Mar’s capital city of Avara, a right that Rey Christóbal had claimed as his empire was first to see the necessity of this international alliance. Aveline and Elara would speak on behalf of San Irie. Signey and Professor Smithers would represent Langley. Étolia sent Tournesola Orianne Lumiére with a legion of musketeers to protect her. And Marién, the only other independent island in the Ember Sea, had sent no one at all.
At home, backlash to the announcement of the international conference swirled into a hurricane of vitriol. Protestors had taken to the streets, angry faces emblazoned in black and white on the front page of the newspaper that Elara read every morning before spending the day in Cherry’s lab. She couldn’t imagine how Aveline was dealing with it all—the queen had not been forthcoming on their fire calls—but she could guess that the answer was not well. After all, there was nothing that broke Aveline more than letting down her people, and it seemed as if every major decision she had made in the last few months had made her rule more and more unpopular.
Sometimes Elara wondered if the only thing keeping San Irie from dissolving into civil war was the lingering threat of Iya.
But the one time she had brought it up, Aveline had said, “We’ll deal with San Irie’s problems when we’re in San Irie. Until then, nothing matters more than this conference.” And so, until Aveline had sent Nobility to pick her up, Elara had buried her concern, hoping with all her heart that the other countries would feel the same.
Elara and Aveline arrived at the meeting room early, by Aveline’s request. The queen sat beside Rey Christóbal while Elara waited by the window with a glass of water, dressed in the elegant bronze gown that Aveline had provided for her. Rey Christóbal and Doña Montserrat had already been present at the circular table when they had entered the room, and there were only six chairs present for the attendees—forcing Elara to stand with Tournesola Orianne’s translator. The king’s chair was grander than anyone else’s, high-backed and gilded. His cousin had been allotted the same cushioned chair as everyone else.
Still, the doña was in high spirits, though Elara got the feeling that it took a lot for her to share what lay behind that smile. In a strange way, she reminded Elara of Faron. There was chaos in her dark brown eyes.
On the other side of Aveline was Signey. It was the first time Elara had seen her since their argument, but not the first time they had spoken. With Cherry at her side, Elara had fire called Signey to ask for more blood samples, which Signey had claimed to be too busy to send. The conference was coming up, and she and Professor Smithers had been meeting frequently with Barret and government officials to prepare for it.
Now Signey was in conversation with Professor Smithers as he glanced thoughtfully down at his ring. Elara wished she had found the time to talk with her before this, but she was also glad she hadn’t. Seeing Signey now, her freckled skin and lovely eyes, made Elara’s heart pound unevenly in her chest. They both needed to focus on something other than each other to get through this day.
Tournesola Orianne Lumiére sat between Professor Smithers and Doña Montserrat, rounding out the group. Elara considered it a victory that the tournesola had actually shown up, but she kept her expression blank. They were after a bigger victory than just everyone’s presence. They needed promised soldiers, a signed alliance, and a declaration of war before the conference was over. Then and only then, Aveline had said, would they share San Irie’s research into blood magic and Iya’s past. Until then, Elara would observe and support.
Trust your own judgment.
Rey Christóbal cleared his throat before speaking in patois: “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. You’ve surely seen the stories of the damage Iya has caused, first to San Irie and then across Langley. If left unchecked, his power will only grow, until he poses a real threat to the continent. For that reason, I think it best if we all work together to contain the situation.”
Elara stifled a scoff. His idea. Right.
“We’ve heard the rumors,” Tournesola Orianne said through her translator. “This Iya you so fear is a teenager. You have called us here to deal with the petulant whims of a child?”
“I told you that this is no mere child,” said Professor Smithers. “This boy is a god, bonded to the most powerful dragon in existence, and they both believe this world belongs to them.”
“I heard,” Rey Christóbal said, “that it is Langley’s fault that we are in this position to begin with. Is that true?”
“I don’t think assigning blame is productive right now,” Signey said. “We need to form a plan and begin sharing resources—”
“There are far more young people in this room than I was expecting when you summoned us, Christóbal,” said the tournesola. Her eyes found Elara again. “This one is the Empyrean, but why has Barret sent his child to speak for a nation?”
“I’m in the diplomacy track at the Hearthstone Academy,” Signey said with a surprising amount of calm. “I’m here to shadow Professor Smithers, but I also have personal experience with Iya, since I successfully fought him off from his attempted conquest of San Irie. I’m here to fill in any gaps in the collective’s knowledge, based on what we observed of his strengths and weaknesses. If you’d rather go in ignorantly, we’re happy to leave you to squabble.”
The tournesola tilted her head. “Iya is a Soto as well, is he not? How do we know you’re not here to spy on his behalf?”
“Weren’t you listening? Miss Soto just defended San Irie from her ancestor. She is no spy. She is a savior.” When Aveline finally spoke, everyone in the room turned to listen. Her face and voice were cold, but her eyes were alight with a magnetic fury. “Iya cannot be defeated by one country alone. If we don’t stand together now, one by one we will all fall. We are here to discuss his current strategies and powers so we can formulate a plan to foil his worldwide conquest before it goes any further, and nothing else. Put aside your petty disagreements, and think of your people.”
“Your people have only been yours for five years and you think you can lecture us,” Tournesola Orianne muttered. “I will not continue this meeting until the Soto girl is removed from the chamber.”
Aveline opened her mouth to say something no doubt scathing, but Doña Montserrat placed a hand on her arm. The queen calmed at once, though she didn’t look happy about it. The doña nodded toward the door. “It’s a reasonable request. Miss Soto, please leave. Professor Smithers can handle Langlish interests in your stead.”
“No.” It took Elara a moment of thunderous silence to realize that she was the one who had spoken. But with everyone’s eyes on her, including Signey’s, she refused to take back the words. “Don’t dismiss Signey because she’s a child or because of who her family is. The San Irie Revolution was won by children: me, my sister, the queen. It was won by a child who knew that his family was in the wrong and took steps to defeat them: Reeve Warwick. Our nation is our nation because we didn’t dismiss someone as too young or too biased to make a difference. If we expect to work together to stop a threat much larger than ourselves, then we need to trust one another. If we can’t do that much, then why are any of us here?”
Tournesola Orianne smiled, as though Elara had played right into her hands. “Aren’t the two of you in some sort of relationship? Perhaps you should both leave.”
“This is getting ridiculous,” said Rey Christóbal. “No one is leaving. The Empyrean is right. If we begin to doubt that anyone in this room is against Iya, then where do we draw the line?”
One by one, everyone looked away from her except for Signey. Her dark eyes seemed darker with some emotion that Elara couldn’t read from so far away, but it wasn’t anger. It looked closer to guilt. Elara wondered if Signey had thought their disagreement about Faron was enough to break them, if by choosing Faron’s side then Elara would never be on Signey’s. She tried a smile, small and confident, and her smile widened when Signey returned it. They had a lot to talk about, but, at least in this moment, they felt okay.
The conversation finally, finally turned to Iya. But even riding the high of being heard by the adults in the room, Elara could tell after the first twenty minutes that this meeting would have no immediate resolution. Tournesola Orianne had nothing but barbed comments to make. Rey Christóbal seemed determined to cast blame on Langley, as if their admission of guilt would change the circumstances. Professor Smithers took the lead on the conversation, but he was on the defensive. And Aveline and Doña Montserrat were involved in a small argument of their own, leaning across Rey Christóbal to take verbal swipes at each other.
Elara looked around the room bleakly. Her hope seemed naive in hindsight. She should have known this was what would happen when you gathered this many people with this many large egos in the same place. She had, after all, been on the wrong side of the gods’ own stubborn pridefulness when they had named her the Maiden Empyrean and tried to get her to kill Faron as a condition of saving the world. When things were hard, when they required time or sacrifice, most beings would choose the easiest path—no matter who else was burned in the process.
But there was a difference between knowing that and seeing it in action. The fate of the world was on the line, and the rulers and representatives of four different nations couldn’t work together even long enough to have a discussion.
She spoke up again, stomach churning with disgust. “Please, can we talk about a treaty and declaration—”
“Empyrean,” said Rey Christóbal, “while I appreciate your presence and your wisdom, your constant interruptions have worn out their welcome. This is politics, not theology. Your opinion is unneeded.”
“But we’re short on time to—”
Aveline silently shook her head as she stared down Elara, a warning in her face. Elara’s words died in her throat, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. Signey met her eyes again, and this time her expression was easy to read. She looked as disgusted and hopeless as Elara felt, as if she wished they had kicked her out so that she could still pretend to respect the rulers in the room.
Elara bit the inside of her cheek as the arguments carried on. Otherwise, she feared she would say something she would regret.
By the time the meeting ended for the day, dinner beckoning them all to the ornate dining room, Elara was so exhausted that she asked Aveline if she could eat in her room. She wasn’t sure she could make it through a meal with all the rulers after that, especially with Tournesola Orianne’s smug Aren’t the two of you in some sort of relationship? still burning in her ears. Elara didn’t regret anything she had said today, but she needed a better strategy for tomorrow. Especially if even the queen thought she had spoken out of turn.
She turned a corner and stopped. Signey Soto was leaning against the wall, her hands in the pockets of her wide-legged trousers. Elara hadn’t had much time to admire her before, and she was too exhausted to do so now. But the camel-colored pants and white button-down, paired with her curly hair and plum lip paint, made it hard to take her eyes away.
“You stood up for me,” said Signey, straightening. “Why?”
“It was unfair of them to try to kick you out. Especially because of your last name.”
Signey’s eyes narrowed.
“What?” Elara demanded.
“I thought you’d say it was because I’m your girlfriend,” Signey admitted after a moment. “I thought—well, it was unfair, too. What I thought.”
“We haven’t exactly been on the same page lately.” Elara stifled a yawn. “But this conference”—another yawn—“it’s too important for personal grievances.”
Signey reached out, and Elara froze like a startled cat, watching intently to see what she would do. But her hand just closed around Elara’s shoulder and tugged her forward. “You’re exhausted, and you’re still making time to talk to me? You need to take care of yourself.”
“What was I meant to do?” Elara asked, her skin warm beneath Signey’s fingers. “Just walk past you?”
“I would have understood, all things considered.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. To anyone, but especially not to you.”
“I know.”
Elara wanted to say something else, but then Signey’s arm slid around her shoulder, tucking Elara in close to her side, and she didn’t dare breathe a word that would draw attention to it. Part of her felt as if she were dreaming. Maybe she had fallen asleep during the conference, dipped into a world where all her problems fell away because a pretty girl was touching her. But then they were in front of Elara’s bedroom door and Signey let her go and the dreamlike haze of the walk faded back to her imperfect reality.
“Thank you. For sticking up for me. For being you,” said Signey. “Let’s get through this conference, and then maybe… we can talk? Properly talk.”
Elara smiled. “I’d like that.”